Osceola the Seminole Part 38

These were the shadows upon the water promised by Haj-Ewa--black shadows upon my heart.

Mad queen of the Micosaucs! what have I done to deserve this torture?

Thou too my enemy! Had I been thy deadliest foe, thou couldst scarcely have contrived a keener sting for thy vengeance.

Face to face stood Maumee and her lover--seduced and seducer. I had no doubt as to the ident.i.ty of either. The moonbeam fell upon both--no longer with soft silvery light, but gleaming rude and red, like the chandeliers of a bagnio. It may have been but a seeming--the reflection of an inflamed imagination that influenced me from within; but my belief in her innocence was gone--hopelessly gone; the very air seemed tainted with her guilt--the world appeared a chaos of debauchery and ruin.

I had no other thought than that I was present at a scene of a.s.signation. How could I think otherwise? No signs of surprise were exhibited by either, as they came together. They met as those who have promised to come--who have often met before.

Evidently each expected the other. Though other emotions declared themselves, there was not the slightest sign of novelty in the encounter.

For me, it was a terrible crisis. The anguish of a whole life compressed into the s.p.a.ce of a single moment could not have been more unendurable. The blood seemed to scald my heart as it gushed through.

So acute was the pang, I could scarcely restrain myself from crying aloud.

An effort--a stern determined effort--and the throe was over. Firmly bracing my nerves--firmly grasping the branches--I clung to my seat, resolved to know more.

That was a fortunate resolution. Had I at that moment given way to the wild impulse of pa.s.sion, and sought a reckless revenge, I should in all likelihood have carved out for myself a long lifetime of sorrow.

Patience proved my guardian angel, and the end was otherwise.

Not a word--not a motion--not a breath. What will they say?--what do?

My situation was like his of the suspended sword. On second thoughts, the simile is both trite and untrue: the sword had already fallen; it could wound me no more. I was as one paralysed both in body and soul-- impervious to further pain.

Not a word--not a motion--not a breath. What will they say?--what do?

The light is full upon Maumee; I can see her from head to foot. How large she has grown--a woman in all her outlines, perfect, entire. And her loveliness has kept pace with her growth. Larger, she is lovelier than ever. Demon of jealousy! art thou not content with what thou hast already done? Have I not suffered enough? Why hast thou presented her in such witching guise? O that she were scarred, hideous, hag-like--as she shall yet become! Even thus to see her, would be some satisfaction--an anodyne to my chafed soul.

But it is not so. Her face is sweetly beautiful--never so beautiful before. Soft and innocent as ever--not a line of guilt can be traced on those placid features--not a gleam of evil in that round, rolling eye!

The angels of heaven are beautiful; but they are good. Oh, who could believe in crime concealed under such loveliness as hers?

I expected a more meretricious mien. There was a scintillation of cheer in the disappointment.

Do not suppose that these reflections occupied time. In a few seconds they pa.s.sed through my mind, for thought is quicker than the magnetic shock. They pa.s.sed while I was waiting to hear the first words that, to my surprise, were for some moments unspoken. To my surprise; _I_ could not have met her in such fashion. My heart would have been upon my tongue, and lips--

I see it now. The hot burst of pa.s.sion is past--the springs tide of love has subsided--such an interview is no longer a novelty--perhaps he grows tired of her, foul libertine that he is! See! they meet with some shyness. Coldness has risen between them--a love quarrel--fool is he as villain--fool not to rush into those arms, and at once reconcile it.

Would that his opportunities were mine!--not all the world could restrain me from seeking that sweet embrace.

Bitter as were my thoughts, they were less bitter on observing this att.i.tude of the lovers. I fancied it was half-hostile.

Not a word--not a motion--not a breath. What will they say;--what do.

My suspense came to an end. The aide-de-camp at length found his tongue.

"Lovely Maumee, you have kept your promise."

"But you, sir, have not yours? No--I read it in your looks. You have yet done nothing for us?"

"Be a.s.sured, Maumee, I have not had an opportunity. The general has been so busy, I have had no chance to press the matter upon him. But do not be impatient. I shall be certain to persuade him; and your property shall be restored to you in due time. Tell your mother not to feel uneasy: for _your_ sake, beautiful Maumee, I shall spare no exertion.

Believe me, I am as anxious as yourself; but you must know the stern disposition of my uncle; and, moreover, that he is on the 'most friendly terms with the Ringgold family. In this will lie the main difficulty, but I fear not that I shall be able to surmount it."

"O sir, your words are fine, but they have little worth with us now. We have waited long upon your promise to befriend us. We only wished for an investigation; and you might easily have obtained it ere this. We no longer care for our lands, for greater wrongs make us forget the less.

I should not have been here to-night, had we not been in sad grief at the misfortune--I should rather say outrage--that has fallen upon my poor brother. You have professed friendship to our family. I come to seek it now, for now may you give proof of it. Obtain my brother's freedom, and we shall then believe in the fair words you have so often spoken. Do not say it is impossible; it cannot even be difficult for you who hold so much authority among the white chiefs. My brother may have been rude; but he has committed no crime that should entail severe punishment. A word to the great war-chief, and he would be set free.

Go, then, and speak that word."

"Lovely Maumee! you do not know the nature of the errand upon which you send me. Your brother is a prisoner by orders of the agent, and by the act of the commander-in-chief. It is not with us as among your people.

I am only a subordinate in rank, and were I to offer the counsel you propose, I should be rebuked--perhaps punished."

"Oh, you fear rebuke for doing an act of justice?--to say naught of your much offered friendship? Good, sir! I have no more to say, except this--we believe you no longer. You need come to our humble dwelling no more."

She was turning away with a scornful smile. How beautiful seemed that scorn!

"Stay, Maumee!--fair Maumee, do not part from me thus--doubt not that I will do all in my power--"

"Do what I have asked you. Set my brother free--let him return to his home."

"And if I should--"

"Well, sir."

"Know, Maumee, that for me to do so would be to risk everything. I might be degraded from my rank--reduced to the condition of a common soldier--disgraced in the eyes of my country--ay, punished, perhaps, by imprisonment worse than that which your brother is likely to endure.

All this would I risk by the act."

The girl paused in her step, but made no reply. "And yet all these chances shall I undergo--ay, the danger of death itself--if you, fair Maumee,"--here the speaker waxed pa.s.sionate and insinuating--"if you will only consent."

"Consent--to what, sir?"

"Lovely Maumee, need I tell you? Surely you understand my meaning. You cannot be blind to the love--to the pa.s.sion--to the deep devotion with which your beauty has inspired me--"

"Consent to what, sir?" demanded she, repeating her former words, and in a soft tone, that seemed to promise compliance. "Only to love me, fair Maumee--_to become my mistress_." For some moments, there was no reply.

The grand woman seemed immobile as a statue. She did not even start on hearing the foul proposal, but, on the contrary, stood as if turned to stone.

Her silence had an encouraging effect upon the ardent lover; he appeared to take it for a.s.sent. He could not have looked into her eye, or he would there have read an expression that would have hindered him from pressing his suit farther. No--he could not have observed that glance, or he would hardly have made such a mistake.

"Only promise it, fair Maumee; your brother shall be free before the morning, and you shall have everything--"

"Villain, villain, villain! Ha, ha! ha, ha! Ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!"

In all my life, I never heard aught so delightful as that laugh. It was the sweetest sound that ever fell upon my ears. Not all the wedding-bells that ever rang--not all the lutes that ever played--not all the harps and hautboys--the clarions and trumpets--in the world, could have produced such melodious music for me.

The moon seemed to pour silver from the sky--the stars had grown bigger and brighter--the breeze became filled with delicious odours, as if a perfumed censer had been spilled from heaven, and the whole scene appeared suddenly transformed into an Elysium.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

TWO DUELS IN ONE DAY.

The crisis might have been my cue to come down; but I was overpowered with a sense of delightful happiness, and could not stir from my seat.

The arrow had been drawn out of my breast, leaving not a taint of its poison--the blood coursed pleasantly through my veins--my pulse throbbed firm and free--my soul was triumphant. I could have cried out for very joy.