Prisoners of Chance Part 36

A hoa.r.s.e growl of rage burst from the throat of the Puritan. "Prophets of G.o.d!" he roared. "Surely we are the selected instruments of the Lord sent hither for the salvation of this worthy man; we are the soldiers of Gideon, the chosen of the Most High."

Before I could lift hand or voice in interference he had braced his ma.s.sive shoulder against the towering figure of wood, and, with a mighty heave sent the monster crashing over upon the rock floor, himself sprawling beside it as it fell. As they came down together in a cloud of dust, an opening was revealed behind the stone pedestal on which the idol had stood. Torch in hand I instantly crept forward. I found myself in what was little more than the merest cell, yet dimly illumined by a single beam of light streaming downward as if penetrating through some slight crevice in the rock. The narrow hole, for it was hardly more, was bare of all furnishing; both walls and floor were damp, but there were remnants of coa.r.s.e food and a pannikin of water.

Its sole occupant sat cross-legged on the hard floor, bound about the waist with a band of metal. One end of this was attached to the wall in such a manner that the prisoner could neither rise to his feet nor lie down. Never have these wandering eyes of mine looked upon a figure more pathetic. For an instant I stood there, swaying upon my feet as though from sickness, staring at him incredulously. His thin, pale, effeminate face was rendered wonderfully piteous by the depth of suffering so plainly revealed within the great, black, appealing eyes.

So peculiarly delicate were the features, so slender the fragile form, about which a frayed and rusty robe clung loosely, that for a moment I actually believed I was looking upon a young girl. So strong was this impression that I drew back, almost abashed. This slight pause enabled Cairnes to regain his feet and press past me. As his eager glance fell upon that slender, crouching figure, I observed how suddenly his eyes hardened, his whole expression changed.

"You are a priest of Rome!" he exclaimed harshly, staring down.

The white, girlish face brightened instantly, the two thin hands plucking forth from some fold in the tattered robe a small silver crucifix. At sight of this the stern-mouthed Puritan drew sharply back, as if he feared contamination from the symbol.

"_Oui, Monsieur_," answered the soft voice, with an odd note of joy in it. "I am of the Society of Jesus."

"'T is plain to see. What do you here?"

The priest smiled gently, his eyes dimming with tears fixed upon the cross.

"'Tis strange question. Surely Monsieur knoweth little of our Order, or he would not need to ask. We are soldiers of Christ, commissioned for war, even to life or death. We ask nothing but the privilege of service, and the command of our superior. I am named missionary unto the savage tribes of this river. It has been the will of G.o.d that I suffer in order that through me some souls born into heathendom may thus be redeemed from the torments of the d.a.m.ned."

The sectary's rough, gray face reddened until it was nearly the color of his hair.

"'Tis false!" he growled, smiting one hand hard upon the other in anger. "You only lead the way straight to h.e.l.l with your false doctrine. Have you made any converts to the Roman harlot in this tribe?"

"Nay, Monsieur, I cannot lay claim to such reward." His eyes slowly uplifted to the face of his questioner. "Jesu hath not as yet opened before my understanding the way which leadeth to their hearts. I can but work, and pray for guidance. I have only baptised one who was dying of a fever, and sprinkled with holy water an infant, unknown to its mother. It is not much, yet I bless the good Mary for the salvation of those precious souls."

"Saints of Israel! do you think that mummery saved them?"

"Surely yes, Monsieur; is it not so taught of our Order?"

I shall never forget the look upon Cairnes's face. At the moment I believed him wrestling with temptation to strike the helpless man, so irritated was he by these confident words of Romish faith. Determined to prevent discussion, I elbowed him aside, and bent down over the fastenings of the Jesuit.

"Enough of this," I said sternly, barely glancing at Cairnes. "Keep the rest of your Puritanical sermonizing for a conventicle. We have here a fellow-Christian to be rescued from the savages; this is no time to jangle over creeds."

"A fellow-Christian! I hold no fellowship with such; he is but an emissary of a false religion, a slave to the Evil One."

"Enough, I say," and I rose to my feet fronting him. "I care little which is right in doctrine, you or he. Here is a man begging aid of us in extremity. Surely the priest has suffered for the sake of Christ, regarding whom you speak so freely. So have done with dogma, and play the man a while--press here with your strength on this knife-blade until I bend back the metal and set him free."

He yielded, ungraciously enough, to my command, giving so good a turn to the steel with his vice-like fingers that in another moment the Jesuit was released from the wall. Slowly and painfully, clinging fast to my hand for aid, the man arose and stood before us, swaying wearily, his thin lips pressed tightly together as if he would stifle a cry of pain.

"Are you suffering?" I asked, greatly moved by the expression of agony imprinted on his pallid face.

"It will pa.s.s, Monsieur," he answered bravely, trying to smile at me.

"'Tis strange the spirit of man is so enslaved to the flesh that one cannot wholly master a bit of physical pain. No doubt I am somewhat cramped from my long imprisonment, and, perchance, my wounds have not rightly healed."

"Are you wounded? I beg you permit me to attend to that. I possess some small skill in the bandaging and dressing of cuts."

His eyes rested upon me with all the tenderness of a woman.

"I truly thank you, Monsieur, but it is beyond your skill to aid me, even were you of the school of Paris. They be of a savage nature, which G.o.d alone may beautify."

He slightly lifted his long black robe as he spoke, and may the merciful Father forgive the oath which sprang to my lips as I gazed in horror at the disfiguration--two fleshless limbs, one without even the semblance of a foot, merely a blackened, charred stump rested on the rock floor.

"Mother of G.o.d!" I sobbed, "it has been burned off!"

"Ay," he returned, in all gentleness, covering the awful sight. "Yet were they gladly given for Christ's sake."

"I doubt that not," gazing in wonder at his girlish face. "But tell me, who were guilty of such fiendish cruelty--the savages of this tribe?"

"Two months ago it was done in the valley below, in the village of the Natchez," his eyes again upon the crucifix. "Yet dwell not upon it, Monsieur, for it is so little I can hope to do for the glory of G.o.d.

It may be I am not even worthy of martyrdom."

"So the Natchez did that!" the breath hissing between my teeth. "Where was their gentle-hearted Queen?"

"I know not, Monsieur, if they have a Queen. I saw none exercising authority excepting priests of their strange worship. It was the chief priest who held me in the flame."

I crushed back the hot, useless words burning on my lips, and turned to look at the Puritan. We had conversed in English, and he must have comprehended every word, yet there was no softening in the glint of his hard, gray eyes.

"Hear you the priest's story, sirrah?" I asked, feeling strong inclination to vent my spleen on him for such bull-headedness. "Is he not one to honor rather than pick a quarrel with in such place as this?"

"'T is no quarrel I seek, nor am I like to question the fanatical courage of a Jesuit. But I tell you his teaching is false, an outrage on the true religion of the saints, and I am of a strain which can never companion with any of that black-robed breed. Call me what ye please, Master Benteen, but I am too old a man, too long indoctrined in the faith, ever to acknowledge brotherhood with hirelings of the Romish church."

"Companion with whom you please," I retorted savagely. "But I tell you this, preacher, and once for all,--you 'll bear yourself like a human being to this poor lad while I 'm with you, or else make answer to me.

Is that plain? I care nothing for your dogma, or your hair-splitting, but I know what fair play is between man and man,--ay, and mean to have it here, even if it costs you a split head."

"I beg you will both be at peace, Messieurs," broke in the soft, caressing voice at my elbow. "There can be no cause for comrades quarrelling over me. I am not worthy a ruptured friendship. Yet I fail to understand any occasion for your seeming trouble; has the older man some reason to distrust my robe?"

"Reason! Saint George! 'tis precious little that ever bothers him.

The fellow is a Puritan preacher--of the same breed as the Huguenots--and possesses a head as hard as an oaken plank."

I nearly laughed at the unrestrained expression of aversion which swept the girlish face. An instant the black eyes lost their gentleness, the thin fingers clutched the silver cross.

"Mother of G.o.d! a heretic! a preacher of that doctrine! Never before have I met his kind, nor do I care now to make close acquaintance. A Puritan! _Sainte Marie_, have mercy! Yet surely in such stress as this we may for the time overlook our differences in faith, and be as men together? Is it not G.o.d's will? But I know little of conditions.

Is there some path open for escape from here? Then will I let this Puritan be, save for a prayer to the Virgin."

"I fear there is none, unless you know of some back opening to this rock hole."

He shook his head sadly, his gaze still on Cairnes.

"None, Monsieur; the pa.s.sage endeth here."

"Then the three of us are safely cooped for those savages to work their will upon. No pleasant thought that, yet little good can arise from losing hope. For one, I fight it out, and let others do the praying.

Let us retrace our way to the big room, where we can hold council in more comfort; perchance we may find yet some opening to the upper air.

Cairnes, lay hold upon the other side, and help to bear back this lamed man to the altar."

I doubted greatly his compliance with my order, and determined to settle this affair between us without more delay. But he came forward, unwillingly enough and muttering.