Prisoners of Chance Part 5

As we approached the farther end this pa.s.sage suddenly widened into a half circle, sufficiently extended to accommodate the huge b.u.t.t of the mizzenmast, which was completely surrounded by an arm-rack crowded with short-swords, together with all manner of small arms. A grimly silent guard stood at either side, and I perceived the dark shadow of a third still farther beyond, while the half-dozen cabins close at hand had their doors tightly closed, and fastened with iron bars.

Instinctively I felt that here were confined those French prisoners, the knowledge of whose exact whereabouts I sought amid such surroundings of personal peril, and my heart bounded from sudden excitement. In simulated awkwardness, I unfortunately overdid my part.

Shuffling forward, more eager than ever to keep at the heels of my protector, yet with eyes wandering in search of any opening, my bare feet struck against a projecting ring-bolt in the deck, and over I went, striving vainly to regain my balance. Before that human statue on guard could even lower his gun to repel boarders, my head struck him soundly in the stomach, sending him crashing back against one of those tightly closed doors. Tangled up with the surprised soldier, who promptly clinched his unexpected antagonist, and, with shocking profanity, strove to throttle me, I yet chanced to take note of the number "18" painted upon the white wood just above us. Then the door itself was hurled hastily open, and with fierce exclamation of rage a gray-hooded Capuchin monk bounded forth like a rubber ball, and instantly began kicking vigorously right and left at our struggling figures. It gives me pleasure to record that the Spaniard, being on top, received by far the worst of it, yet I might also bear testimony to the vigor of the priest's legs, while we shared equally in the volubility of his tongue.

"_Sacre_!" he screamed in French, punctuating each sentence with a fresh blow. "Get away from here, you drunken, quarrelling brutes! Has it come to this, that a respectable priest of Holy Church may not hold private converse with the condemned without a brawl at the very door?

Mother of G.o.d! what meaneth the fracas? Where is the guard? Why don't some of them jab their steel in the blasphemous ragam.u.f.fins who thus make mock of the holy offices of religion? Take that, you black, sprawling beast!"

He aimed a vicious stroke at my head, which I ducked in the nick of time to permit of its landing with full force in my companion's ribs.

I heard him grunt in acknowledgment of its receipt.

"Where is the guard, I say! If they come not I will strangle the dogs with my own consecrated hands to the glory of G.o.d. By the sainted Benedine! was ever one of our Order so basely treated before? Get away, I tell you! 'Tis a disgrace to the true faith, and just as I was about to bring the Chevalier to his knees in confession of his sins!"

Gonzales was fairly doubled up with laughter at the ludicrous incident, choking so that speech had become an utter impossibility. By this time the aroused guards began hurrying forward on a run down the pa.s.sageway to rescue their imperilled comrade, yet, before the foremost succeeded in laying hands upon me, a newcomer, resplendent in glittering uniform, with an inflamed, almost purple face, leaped madly forth from the opposite side of the mast and began laying about him vigorously with an iron pin, making use meanwhile of a vocabulary of choice Spanish epithets such as I never heard equalled.

"By the shrine of Saint Gracia!" shouted this new arrival hoa.r.s.ely, glaring about in the dim light as if half awakened from a bad dream.

"What meaneth this aboard my ship? _Caramba_! is this a travelling show--a place for mountebanks and gypsies? Shut the door, you shrieking gray-back of a monk, or I 'll have you cat-o'-nine-tailed by the guard, in spite of your robe. Get up, you drunken brute!"

The crestfallen soldier to whom these last affectionate words were addressed limped painfully away, and then the justly irate commander of His Christian Majesty's flag-ship "Santa Maria" glowered down on me with an astonishment that for the moment held him dumb.

"Where did this dirty n.i.g.g.e.r come from?" he roared at last, applying one of his heavy sea-boots to me with vehemence. "Who is the villain who dared bring such cattle on board my ship?"

Gonzales, now thoroughly sobered by the seriousness of the situation, attempted to account for my presence, but before he had fairly begun his story, the Captain, who by this time was beyond all reason, burst roaring forth again:

"Oh, so you brought him! You did, hey? Well, did n't I tell you to let no lazy, loafing b.u.mboat-man set foot on board? Do you laugh at my orders, you good-for-nothing sc.u.m of the sea? And above all things why did you ever drag such a creature as this down between decks to disgrace the whole of His Majesty's navy? Get up, you bundle of rags!"

I scrambled to my feet, seeking to shuffle to one side out of his immediate sight, but a heavy hand closed instantly on my ragged collar and held me fronting him. For a moment I thought he meant to strike me, but I appeared such a miserable, dejected specimen of humanity that the fierce anger died slowly out of his eyes.

"Francisco," he called sternly, "heave this thing overboard, and be lively about it! Saints of Mercy! he smells like a butcher-boat in the tropics."

Hustled, dragged, cuffed, mercilessly kicked, the fellows got me out upon the open deck at last; I caught one fleeting glimpse of the great masts, the white, gleaming planks under foot, the horrified, upturned, face of Alphonse in the little boat beneath, and then, with a heave and a curse, over I went, sprawling down from rail to river, as terrified a darky as ever made hasty departure from a man-of-war.

CHAPTER IV

WE HOLD A COUNCIL OF WAR

The last object I remember seeing was the white face of the Capuchin monk peering at me over the rail, and my earliest thought as I arose to the surface, was that as the water had probably cleansed my skin it would be wise to keep well out of sight from the deck. Fortunately the boat floated close at hand. Laying hasty grasp upon it, but remaining well immersed in the river, I bade the thoroughly frightened black paddle with diligence out of that neighborhood. This was a task he was not slow in accomplishing, fear lending strength to trained muscles, and we soon had the good fortune to discover a safe landing-place beneath the lee of a long mola.s.ses shed, where our plight was un.o.bserved by any one.

Remaining hidden here myself, feeling reasonably secure from prying eyes, I despatched Alphonse after dry clothing, meanwhile tramping back and forth across the packed earthen floor to keep chilled blood in circulation, seeking eagerly to evolve out of the confused events of the afternoon some programme for future guidance. This task was no light one. The closer I faced the desperate work remaining unaccomplished the less I enjoyed the outlook, the more improbable appeared success. Getting aboard the "Santa Maria" was now, to my mind, the simplest part of the adventure, but beyond the accomplishment of that feat I could perceive little to encourage me. What must necessarily follow my safe gaining of that guarded deck, during the dark hours of the night, depended so largely upon the occurrence of helpful circ.u.mstances, any definite plan of action arranged beforehand became simply an impossibility. Still, striving to make allowances for the unexpected, I managed to put together a chain of details, trusting, with the blind faith of a fatalist, that these would somehow fall into line when the hour came. If they failed, as was likely, I determined to shift them about in any way possible as each fresh emergency arose.

I realized how small a part any preliminary survey holds in such an enterprise as now fronted me, an enterprise to be worked out amid darkness and grave personal peril, where any bungling act or false move might overturn everything in an instant; yet it is always well--or at least so I have found it--to trace some outline of procedure, rather than trust wholly to the intuitions of the moment. G.o.d's aid seems usually granted to those doing most for themselves.

I felt little confidence by the time Alphonse returned, yet my firm determination to make the effort had in no way abated. Indeed, had failure been an absolute certainty I should have gone forward exactly the same, for I was bound to it by my pledge to Eloise de Noyan. I have reason to suppose dogged determination a part of my nature, but then something far more compelling than this inherited tendency drove me irresistibly forward to my fate. This is no story of the rescue of a prisoner of war, but rather of how love impelled an ordinary man to the accomplishment of deeds which seemed impossible.

It was evening, already quite dark, it fortunately proving a night of cloud and threatened storm, when I ventured to steal into the little cottage on the Rue Dumaine, and found there, even as I had left them, Madame de Noyan and the _pere_ awaiting me. How anxious a day she had been compelled to pa.s.s since the hour of my departure was plainly imprinted upon her beautiful face, gently touched by the softened light from a shaded candle near which she rested; nor was the naturally pale, emaciated countenance of her spiritual adviser entirely free from outward marks of care impressed upon it by his patient vigil.

I recall still, a pang tugging at my old heart, with what unspeakable gentleness Eloise came forward, holding forth both white hands in greeting, while unrestrained tears glistened upon the long lashes partly veiling the eager glow of soft eyes searching my face. She uttered never a word of questioning relative to the result of my mission; merely stood there silent, her warm hands in mine, her gaze fastened upon me, as if within my eyes she sought to read everything unasked. Perhaps she did, yet to me it seemed the perfect abandon of trust, and often since have I thought upon it as ill.u.s.trative of her unswerving confidence in my honor.

"I do so thank you, Geoffrey Benteen," she said in all simplicity, "for thus coming to us once more."

"I returned the earliest moment possible, Madame," I replied quietly, although all my heart must have leaped responsive into my eyes, contradicting such coolness of speech. Be that as it may, my sweet mistress never glanced aside, nor drew back her hands from mine. It was the gravely observant priest, standing behind within the shadows, whose natural impatience caused him to interrupt our greeting, although he spoke not unkindly.

"My son," he said, deep anxiety evident in the tone of his soft speech, "we have remained in solemn prayer ever since the hour of thy departure, and, while we doubt not our pet.i.tions have found favor of both Mother and Child, yet the flesh sorroweth, and we yearn greatly to know all from thine own lips as to the fortunes of this day. Tell us, I beg thee, hast thou discovered aught of comfort or help for the condemned?"

His words brought me back to earth with sudden rush. Releasing the soft hands I had been clasping so tightly in momentary forgetfulness, I led the lady to a seat, even finding another myself before venturing upon reply.

"I thank you heartily for your prayers, Sir Priest. Often have I heard my father say the prayer of the righteous availeth much, and although I be not of Holy Church--for those to whom I looked in earlier years for guidance were of the dissenting breed--yet I yield respect to all true religion; and even in the woods, where men grow rough, giving small thought to the voice of their souls, I have discovered much to tell me of G.o.d, and to make me thankful for His mercies. But you ask a difficult question. The day has not been ill spent nor wasted. This much, at least, I may say--I have discovered one weak spot in the Spanish guard-line, and intend to make the best possible use of it.

Yet the venture is bound to prove a desperate one, and nothing except the overruling care of Him who guides us all can secure the desired outcome."

He piously crossed himself, his thin lips moving silently above the silver crucifix resting in his white fingers, but Eloise only leaned more eagerly forward, her dark eyes anxiously scanning my face.

"Have you seen my--the Chevalier de Noyan?" she questioned tremblingly.

"No, Madame, yet I have been aboard the 'Santa Maria,'--though in truth 'twas not altogether an enjoyable experience,--and now know precisely where the prisoners are confined, even to the room of the Chevalier.

If you will listen patiently I will briefly relate the story; then we can outline together our further plans for the night. Are we alone?"

Both nodded, far too eager to waste time in words, and as rapidly as possible I described those incidents already narrated. At the close Eloise simply thanked me in silence with an appreciative glance, but the priest proved more demonstrative.

"Thou hast, indeed, accomplished much, my son," he exclaimed impulsively, clasping and unclasping the slender fingers of his white hands nervously. "Surely but for our fervent prayers the good Lord would never have led you amid such imminent and deadly peril. Yet to me the venture appeareth even more hopeless than before. You made mention of plans; shall we not discuss such at once, for the rapidly speeding time must greatly press us. The great Apostle once said, in connection with the work of the Spirit, 'Brethren, the time is short'; it seemeth a fit text for us even now."

"It is too early for action," I replied thoughtfully. "I require food, and it will be best to delay until a late hour before moving in such a scheme as mine. As to plans--faith, the word was ill-chosen if I used it, for excepting the mode already outlined for attaining the deck, I have none. Yet there are certain matters I require to have arranged before I depart. Madame de Noyan, can you furnish me with a strong boat and two stout oarsmen? They must be men to trust, who will care little where they go."

"It shall be done," she answered promptly, her eyes brightening.

"Alphonse will gladly go, and he can select another from among the slaves."

"The Chevalier, can he swim if occasion arise?"

"He is perfectly at home in the water."

"Good; then we need run no extra risk by keeping a boat beside the frigate. Let it await our coming beneath the darkest shadows of the cotton sheds near the North Gate. Have them place within it my rifle and ammunition, together with whatever weapons of war your husband may be accustomed to use; see that the boat be well provisioned for a long voyage, as it will require much travel before we get beyond Spanish reach, and we go not into a region of settlements. Bid the men exhibit no light, nor converse above whispers. My word to them will be 'Virginia'; they are to pay heed to no other. You understand all this?"

"It is engraven upon my heart," she responded gravely. "You need have no fear."

"That I think will be all you can do to aid success--nay, wait!

instruct them also, if we have not arrived before the dawn to bide no longer; it will be useless."

"Oh, say not so, Geoffrey Benteen," she cried, a sudden sob evidencing the strain upon her. "Surely the good G.o.d will aid us now."

"It is upon Him I rely," I responded, not knowing how best to minister to her deep distress. "We will do all we can, Madame, to win His favor; beyond that nothing remains but to submit to His will."

She hid her face in her arms upon the table, the light of the candle streaming almost golden in the heavy ma.s.ses of her hair. Instinctively I rested my hand caressingly upon it.

"Nay, Madame, this is time for strength, not weakness. Afterwards we may have opportunity to weep; to-night there is call for action."

She glanced up with a quick, impulsive gesture, and I saw her eyes were dry of tears.

"You think me unduly nervous and unstrung," she said quietly, and I could detect a touch of indignation in the tone. "It is merely my nature, for the impatient blood of the South has place in my veins, yet whatsoever a lady of France may do, you can trust me to accomplish, Monsieur."