The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Part 42

I laughed at this notion, but bade him go on, seeing this objection was but a trifle.

"Well, master," says he, "I take it, they must have more comfort by this way of living than they now can get; and other tribes, seeing their state, would willingly enough come to partake their contentment. There would still be much lacking to their estate; but by laying their plans carefully, and preparing themselves with arms and leaders, they might in the end take some port from the Portugals, where the country about would give them protection against a.s.sault, and so come about to open trade with any nation who wished to take their commodity in exchange for what the Ingas need."

"Hold, Matthew," says I, "what commodity have these Ingas to dispose of?"

"Lord love you, master," says he, "they have that which no other nation ever yet refused--gold! The Ingas, with their knowledge of these mountains, can easily produce you gold by the bushel; while the Portugals, with pain, get it by the thimbleful. And look you, master, once the traders know where they can get gold cheap, they will take means to prevent the Portugals again closing that port. The project may seem wild at the first glance, as many another achievement has looked in the beginning, but is it impossible?"

"It is not impossible," says I; "but the Ingas must be taught."

"To be sure, master. And they are willing enough to learn. All they need is a leader, as appears clearly from their seeking our help against the Portugals."

"Ay," says I, "but where is this teacher to be found?"

"Not a great way off, master. In a word," says he, "you are the man who may save thousands from destruction by the Portugals, and raise up these poor Ingas from misery and despair to happiness and prosperity."

This proposal did fairly take away my breath, and ere it came again for me to speak, Matthew continues: "When I tell the Ingas that you refuse to save yourself by the means they suggest, because they could not hold the town and would suffer disaster, they must needs regard you with respect and admiration, for the virtues they do most prize are sagacity and generosity. Thus will they be well disposed to listen to a scheme for their surer advantage, especially when they know that you will not leave them untill they are in a condition to maintain the independence of the state you have set up."

"And how long do you reckon it will take to carry out your project, Matthew?" says I.

"Why, master, I count we may do a good deal in four or five years."

"Five years!" says I, with a gasp.

"Ay, master; but that's not half the time it would take to get down the Oronoque. And what are five years when you are happily and profitably occupied? Will it be a great joy to you to know that you are redeeming these poor folks?"

"Ay, to be sure," says I; "but Lady Biddy?" For she had been in my mind all this time.

"Why, master, I mistake her ladyship if she is the sort to sit down and cry for farthingales in the midst of wild woods. No, I do rather count upon her entering cheerfully into this business, and teaching the women, as you teach the men, with good result for her pains, and the blessing of every wife and mother that wears a tawny skin."

"Ay," says I, "they could not fail to be happier for her tenderness."

"No, master, nor she for having such a scope for her tenderness. There's many a thing I might teach 'em for I have earned wages as a blacksmith and a carpenter in my time. And if lords, as I have heard, do live to get drunk, to hunt, and go gallanting, then may you live here like the best of 'em; for," says he, dropping into his customary vein of humor, "you may have a score of sweethearts, and not a man to say you nay; hunt without fear of trespa.s.sing on another lord's preserves; and 'twill be odd if amongst the blessings of civilization we can not make up some sort of liquor to get drunk on."

CHAPTER LIII.

MY CONSCIENCE GETS THE BETTER OF DESIRE, AND A BIRD BRINGS GREAT JOY TO MY DEAR LADY.

"Master," says Matthew, "let us try and s.n.a.t.c.h a wink of sleep, for 'tis late, and the Ingas are early risers. Moreover, we shall do well to see how this design appears in the daylight, for I have known many a scheme that wore an excellent complexion overnight--like certain females--not worth two straws in the morning. Indeed," adds he, "we might with advantage keep this business to ourselves and say not a word of it to any one until we know these Ingas better, and judge whether they are ripe enough or too far gone for preservation."

I could but agree with him in this prudent suggestion, and so we bade each other good-night, and laid ourselves down in a pleasant spot.

But I could not close an eye all the night for considering of this mighty project, and the more I thought about it the more I liked it. Yet was I not so blind but that I perceived the difficulties which lay in the way of one man raising a downtrodden and helpless people into a body of such force as to overthrow the Portugals and hold their own hereafter. I knew I was only an ordinary man, with no special apt.i.tude for governing men; nevertheless I thought that, with Lady Biddy at hand to temper my judgment with her practical good sense, I might yet manage to come out pretty well in the end.

And so all through the night I lay revolving my plans for the future without perceiving the folly of them any more than if I had been reasonably sleeping and these thoughts had taken the form of a dream.

As soon as the Ingas began to stir I roused up Matthew, who was so heavy with sleep that I believe he would have willingly abandoned his scheme of regenerating the Indians on the moment for the sake of another five minutes' doze, and bade him let our friends know at once that we could have nothing to do with their plan of attacking the Portugals.

"Nay," says he, "I'll hold my tongue on that matter until we have decided upon t'other; they will more readily believe in your wisdom if they see you are not in a hurry."

If I had taken these words to heart I might have seen what a fool I was; for here had I settled to take upon myself the most serious responsibility with rather less hesitation than I should have given to swallowing a toadstool.

We journeyed all that day and the next through the mountains, coming a little before nightfall within sight of the river Cauca; but we were still at a prodigious height, so that we were forced to rest there again.

An Inga pointed down to a part of the valley where their village lay, but we could see nothing of it for the woods that lay everywhere about like a thick mat. The sight of these vast unbroken woods took me aback somewhat, for my imagination had figured some gentle gra.s.sy slope that would serve as pasturage for our cattle; and Matthew seemed likewise to have fostered a pleasing hope of open country, for turning to me, with a rueful look in his honest face and round eyes, he says--

"Master, I perceive we shall have to go a-felling trees."

"We shall see," says I, putting on an air of indifference; "from this point to be sure, the land looks somewhat enc.u.mbered" (he nodded a.s.sent), "but we may find elsewhere a s.p.a.ce where there are not so many trees."

"I hope to G.o.d we may, master," says he, "for, besides that, these trees are mighty big, and most of 'em like any iron and bra.s.s for toughness; I doubt if the Ingas have ever a saw or a hatchet to lay our hands to."

We turned away in silence, and I think Matthew was nothing loth to set the subject aside and go to sleep in quiet and peace, for I had kept him awake all the night before laying out my schemes, consulting him as to the building of houses, the digging of water-courses, the setting up of smithies, workshops, and the like--indeed my enthusiasm bore me along to such lengths that towards daybreak I got naught but grunts in reply to my questions, for the fellow, though he continued to keep his body in a sitting posture, could no longer manage to resist sleep. Nor had I grown cool upon this business during the day, but whenever occasion offered to talk with Matthew privily, I pursued the same theme, so that I do truly believe there was nothing left unsaid. Wherefore, as I say, he was in nowise put out by my present silence, but hied him to a remote place where he might lie at full length and sleep with his ears shut.

Going back with the Ingas to where the tents had been set up, we were met by Lady Biddy and w.a.n.gapona, who held her hand. The girl ran to her husband's side, and I, taking my lady, led her to the point that overlooked the valley. On the way she laughed merrily as she told me of her endeavor to learn a few Indian words from w.a.n.gapona; but being come there she became of a sudden silent, and looked over that immense sweep of wilderness that stretched from our feet right down to the river, and then up to the mighty mountains beyond, in wondrous admiration. And when she spoke, her voice was awed to a low tone.

"How magnificently grand it is, Benet," says she, "and yet how melancholy! These mountains and forests--so old, so grand, so silent--seem to reproach us for spending our little life so lightly."

"Is the reproach merited?" says I; "are we right to spend our lives lightly?"

"Nay," says she; "I can not think it wrong to employ the faculties that are given us for our enjoyment. You would not tear the wings from a b.u.t.terfly because it is less laborious than the worm that creeps!" Then, turning her wondering eyes over that vast wilderness, she adds sadly, "Sure, these wilds are not for men to live in."

"The Ingas live in the midst of it," says I, pointing down into the valley.

"Then shame on those who have forced them to such an existence," says she, for I had told her how the Portugals had driven them from their cities. Then, with a tender sigh, "Poor souls!" says she, "_no wonder they never laugh_. The stillness of these mountains and the sadness of the woods have filled their hearts."

These words went home to my conscience; and just as a soap-bubble at the slightest touch will burst--its perfect shape and bright colors, that were a delight to the eye, disappearing in an instant, leaving naught behind but the drop of murky water from which it sprang--so did all those fine colorable hopes in which I had joyed for two whole days and nights vanish quite away at this p.r.i.c.k, giving me to contemplate the selfish, paltry motive that gave 'em birth.

I took my lady in silence back to the tent, and, having bidden her good-night, I hied me again in great dejection to the rock, whence the valley looked now more gloomy and awesome than before, for the creeping darkness; and there sitting down I took myself plainly to task. For I did now plainly discern that I had been cheating and deceiving myself with false pretences, with a view to cheating and deceiving my dear Lady Biddy after. Why had I leapt so readily at Matthew's scheme? Not for the sake of the unhappy Ingas, but for my own delight; not because a generous emotion moved me to rescue them from the Portugals, but because of a base and selfish desire to keep Lady Biddy in the wilderness, sundered from her friends and companions by necessity; not to advance the welfare of others, but to stave off the inevitable moment when my lady and I must part forever. Nor could I excuse myself by pleading ignorance of any harmful intention, for surely I must have felt in my heart that this design was not to my lady's advantage, since I had not dared to mention one word of it to her. That in myself was enough to convict me of wickedness.

Looking down into the valley, which had now became a black, unfathomable gulf, I repeated Lady Biddy's words--"These wilds are not for men to live in"; and then again, "Would you tear the wings from a b.u.t.terfly?"

and after that, "Poor souls! no wonder they never laugh." And each phrase was a reproach that did stab my heart like an avenging knife; for I had in my wishes doomed her whom I loved to dwell in this gloom. I had meditated robbing her of all the cheerful delights of youth and liberty.

I had planned to silence her merry laughter, and overcast that bright young face with the wan cast of grief and despair.

"Nay," says I, springing up, "I will stay not a day longer in these wilds than I can help. We will go hence. What matter how perilous and wearisome the way if she have hope to strengthen her heart? With G.o.d's help I will comfort her pillow every night with some prospect of better fortune on the morrow."

Just at that moment I heard in the woods below the cry of a bird that had often filled Sir Harry and me with amazement and delight (which bird I have since heard called by the Ingas _Arara_), and this put me in mind how I might dispel from my lady's mind those gloomy thoughts inspired by the sight of the valley; so coming to her tent I scratched gently on one of the mats to know if she were asleep, as I did use to do when we were imprisoned on the pirate ship.

"Is that you, Benet?" says she from within.

"Ay," says I! "if it be not too great trouble, do come hither and listen."

So presently she came out, and no sooner had she stood listening a minute, but she cries in a trembling voice:

"Oh, Benet, 'tis the bell of Falmouth church--hark!"