Margaret Tudor Part 8

"'Twill be prison fare, sir," grunted the old sailor, "and we'll be lucky if he doesn't find it cheaper to heave us overboard and be done with it!"

"Tut! man,--hold your croaking tongue in the poor young lady's presence," whispered Mr. Collins; but I heard what he said, and bade him tell us our true case and what real hope there was of our liberation.

"There is every certainty," he said. "When word reaches their Lordships in England, they will not fail to make complaint to the Spanish Council,--and they have no just cause for refusing to set us free. But I trust we shall not have to wait for that. If we had a Governor of spirit, instead of a timorous old man like Sayle, he would have already sent the frigate down here to demand us of the Spaniards. There are not lacking men to carry out the enterprise: Captain Brayne could scarce be restrained from swooping down on the whole garrison--as Rob Searle did, not long ago, when he rescued Dr. Woodward out of their clutches."

"Captain Brayne!--the frigate! Do you mean that the _Carolina_ has arrived?"

"Two months ahead of our sloop," declared Mr. Collins; "but Governor Sayle has despatched her to Virginia for provisions, of which we were beginning to run short. The _Port Royal_ has not been heard of, so 'tis feared she went down in the storm."

He went on to tell me of the new settlement which had been already laid out at a place called Kiawah,--a very fair and fruitful country, which Heaven grant I may one day see!

In my turn I related all that had befallen me since we reached this place. They heard me out very gravely, and promised to contrive some means of communicating with me in case of need.

Then, as it grew very late, we parted, promising to meet the following night; and I crept softly back to the house and my little room, greatly comforted that I now had a worthy gentleman like Mr. Collins with whom I could advise; for with his knowledge of the Spanish tongue and his sound judgment I hope he may influence the Governor in our favour.

The sun is setting now, I think, although I cannot see it from my window; for all the sky without is faintly pink, and every ripple on the bay turns a blushing cheek toward the west. I must lay by my pen and watch for an opportunity to keep tryst at the gateway with my two good friends....

Nine of the clock.

G.o.d help me! I waited in the garden till I heard a whistle, and stole down to the gate as before.

A man put out his hand and caught at mine through the bars. It was that vile Tomas--the wretch who would have murdered my dear love! I screamed and fled, but he called after me in Spanish. The words were strange to me--but the tones of his voice and the coa.r.s.e laughter needed no interpreter!

As I flew across the garden, too frightened to attempt concealment, Dona Orosia stepped out into the courtyard and demanded an explanation. I knew not what to say, for I could not divulge the motive that had sent me out; but I told her that a man had called me from the gate, and when I went near to see who it might be I recognized the servant of Melinza.

She seemed to doubt me at first, till I described him closely; then she was greatly angered and forbade me the garden altogether.

"If I find you here alone again," she hissed, seizing my shoulder with no gentle grasp, "if I find you here again, I will turn the key upon you and keep you prisoner in your chamber."

So now I dare not venture beyond the court and the balconies; and there will be no chance of speaking with Mr. Collins unless he dares to come under my window, and there is little hope of his doing that unseen, for 'tis in full view from the ramparts of the fort, where a sentry paces day and night.

CHAPTER XI.

August, the 7th day.

When I began this tale of our captivity it was with the hope that I might find some means of sending it to friends, in this country or in England, who would interest themselves in obtaining our release.

However, from what Mr. Collins told me, I feel a.s.sured that news of Mr.

Rivers's capture has already been sent to their Lordships the proprietors, and this record of mine seems now but wasted labour. Yet from time to time, for my own solace, I shall add to it; and perchance, some day in safety and freedom, I and----another----may together read its tear-stained pages.

This day I have completed the seventeenth year of my age. It is a double anniversary, for one year ago this night--it being the eve of our departure from England--I first set eyes upon my dear love.

Can it be possible that he, in his dolorous prison, has taken account of the pa.s.sing days and remembers that night--a year ago? 'Twould be liker a man if he took no thought of the date till it was past,--yet I do greatly wonder if he has forgotten.

As for me, the memory has lived with me all these hours since I unclosed my eyes at dawn.

I can see now the brightly lighted cabin of the _Carolina_, where the long supper-table was laid for the many pa.s.sengers who were to set out on the morrow for a new world. I had been somehow parted from my uncle, Dr. Scrivener, and I stood in the cabin doorway half afraid to venture in and meet the eyes of all the strangers present. I felt the colour mounting warmly in my cheek, and my feet were very fain to run away, when Captain Henry Brayne, the brave and cheery commander of the frigate, caught sight of me, and, rising hastily, led me to a seat at his own right hand.

(I do recollect that I wore a new gown of fine blue cloth--a soft and tender colour, that became me well.)

As I took my place I glanced shyly round, and saw, at the farther end of the long table, the gallantest gentleman I had ever set eyes upon in all my sixteen years of life. He was looking directly at me, and presently he lifted his gla.s.s and said:

"Captain Brayne, I give you _the Carolina and every treasure she contains_!"

There was some laughter as the toast was drunk, and my uncle--who had only that moment entered and taken his seat beside me--asked of me an explanation.

"Nay, Dr. Scrivener," said the jovial captain, "'tis not likely the little lady was attending. But now I give you--_the health of Mistress Tudor!_ (and it will not be the first time it has been proposed to-night!)"

And that was but a year ago. I would never have guessed that at seventeen I could feel so very old.

CHAPTER XII.

San Augustin's Day--August, the 28th.

Oh! but I have been angered this day!

What? when my betrothed lies in prison, ill, perhaps, or fretting his brave heart away, am I to be dragged forth to make part of a pageant for the entertainment of his jailers? I would sooner have the lowest cell in the dungeon--aye! and starve and stifle for lack of food and air, than be forced to deck myself out in borrowed bravery, and sit mowing and smiling in a gay pavilion, and clap hands in transport over the fine cavalier airs of the man I hold most in abhorrence!

Do they take me for so vapid a little fool that I may be compelled to any course they choose? Nay, then, they have learned a lesson. Oh, but it is good to be in a fair rage for once!

I had grown so weary and sick at heart that the blood crawled sluggishly in my veins; my eyes were dull and heavy; I had sat listlessly, with idle hands, day after day, waiting--waiting for I knew not what!

Therefore it was that I had no will or courage to oppose the Governor's wife when she came to me this morning and bade me wear the gown she brought, and pin a flower in my hair, and sit with her in the Governor's pavilion to see the fine parade go by.

"This is a great day in San Augustin," she said, "being the one-hundred-and-fifth anniversary of its founding by the Spanish."

As the captives of olden times made part of the triumph of their conquerors, 'twas very fit that I, forsooth, should lend what little I possessed of youth and fairness to the making of a Spanish holiday!

But I was too spiritless, then, to dare a refusal. I bowed my head meekly enough while Chepa--the smiling, good-natured negress--gathered up the rustling folds of the green silk petticoat and slipped it over my shoulders. I made no demur while she looped and twisted the long tresses of my yellow hair, fastening it high with a tall comb, and tying a knot of black velvet riband upon each of the wilful little bunches of curls that ever come tumbling about my ears.

When all was finished, and the lace mantilla fastened to my comb and draped about my shoulders, I was moved by Barbara's cries of admiration to cast one glance upon the mirror. 'Twas an unfamiliar picture that I saw there, and my pale face blushed with some mortification that it should have lent itself so kindly to a foreign fashion.

I would have thrown off all the braveries that minute; but just then came a message from Dona Orosia, bidding me hasten.

"What matters anything to me now?" I thought wearily; and, slowly descending to the courtyard, I took my place in the closed chair that waited, and was borne after the Governor's lady to the Plaza, where, at the western end facing upon the little open square, was the gay pavilion.

Its red and yellow banners shone gaudily in the hot sunlight of the summer afternoon, and the fresh sea breeze kept the ta.s.sels and streamers all a-flutter, like b.u.t.terflies hovering over a bed of flowers.

Three sides of the Plaza were lined with spectators, but the eastern end--which opened out toward the bay--was kept clear for the troops to enter.

Against the slight railing of the little pavilion leaned Dona Orosia, strangely fair in a gown of black lace and primrose yellow, that transformed the soft contours of her throat and cheek from pale olive to the purest pearl. She deigned to bestow but a single cold, unfriendly glance upon me; then she bent forward as before, her lifted fan shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun-kissed sea.