The Knight of the Golden Melice Part 32

The young lady bent down, and, throwing her arms round the maiden's neck, kissed her cheek.

"What have I done to deserve such affection?" she murmured. "O, Prudence, thou art a treasure to me; but be cautious, be cautious, my girl. Not for all the blessings which thy loving heart would heap upon me, would I have the least harm befall thee."

A few days after, as the summer sun was setting, and his last rays lighting up the tops of the trees into a yellow sheen, and kindling into liquid gold the placid surface of Ma.s.sachusetts Bay, a female figure was to be seen hovering on the margin of the wood in that neighborhood. In consequence of the inequalities of the ground, and of some intervening bushes and trees, the collection of houses that lay along the sh.o.r.e of the bay was not visible from the spot where she was walking, nor was there a path to indicate that it was a place of any resort. It seemed to be a spot well adapted to privacy. No sound was to be heard, save the occasional tap of a woodp.e.c.k.e.r, or the whirr of the wings of a partridge, as, startled by the approach of the person, he suddenly rose into the air, or the songs of the robins, bidding farewell, in sweet and plaintive notes, to the disappearing sun. The female walked on, stopping now and then to gather a wild flower, until she reached a spring which bubbled at the foot of an immense beech tree. It ran a rod or two in a silvery stream from its fountain, and then leaping down a miniature fall into a sort of natural basin, surrounded with rocks, expanded itself into a small pool, as clear as crystal. Around the basin were gathered companies of such wood-flowers as love the water, conspicuous among which, both for number and beauty, were the yellow and orange blossoms of the elegant "jewels,"

as boys call them. Advancing to this little mirror, the female took a seat on one of the rocks, on the edge of the water, and bending over, appeared to contemplate, with no little satisfaction, what she beheld there; and to tell the truth, it was a pretty face, and justified some vanity. Black hair and hazel eyes, red lips and blooming cheeks, and a well-formed person, composed a whole whereon the eye rested with pleasure. Prudence, (you have guessed it was she,) after looking at the reflection of herself awhile, and smoothing down a stray tress or two, selected from the flowers in her hand some of the most beautiful, and humming a tune, commenced arranging them in her hair. She was some little time about her toilette, either because her taste was difficult to be suited, or because her employment afforded an excuse for looking at what was certainly more attractive than the flowers themselves. She was so long about their arrangement, that she had hardly completed it, and had time to twist her neck into only five or six att.i.tudes, to see how they became her, when a rustling was heard in the bushes, and immediately the a.s.sistant Spikeman stood by her side.

"Verily, sweet maiden," he said, "thine eyes outshine the stars, which will soon twinkle in the sky, and the flowers around thee pine with envy at beholding a blush lovelier than their own."

A sudden and unpleasant interruption put a stop to the fine speeches of the debauched hypocrite, for he had hardly concluded the sentence, when, without a warning, a strong hand grasped his throat, and he was hurled with irresistible violence to the ground. As the a.s.sistant was lying prostrate on his face, he could hear Prudence, with screams, each fainter than the former, running in the direction of the settlement, while, without a word being spoken, his arms were violently forced upon his back and bound, an operation which his struggles were unable to prevent. This being performed, he was suffered to rise, and, upon gaining his feet, he saw himself in the presence of Sa.s.sacus. The blood fled the cheeks and lips of Spikeman as he beheld the savage, and felt that he was in the hands of one whom, without cause, he had injured, and who belonged to that wild race, with whom revenge is a duty as well as a pleasure. His knees trembled, and he was in danger of falling to the ground, as the thought of death, whereof horrid torments should be the precursors, flashed through his mind. But the trepidation was only momentary, and soon, with the hardihood of his audacious nature, he steeled himself to dare whatever should follow--and it marks the character of the man, that the bitterness of the moment was aggravated at the thought of the vanishing of the fond dreams with which he had idly fed his imagination.

His captor called out in his own language, and presently another Indian came running up. A few words pa.s.sed between them, when the latter stepping forward, Sa.s.sacus made a motion to Spikeman to follow, placing himself at the same time in the rear. Resistance would have been unavailing, and could serve no other purpose than to rouse the pa.s.sions of the Indians, and invite immediate injury. Something might yet happen to his advantage. He might be rescued, or effect his escape, or the chapter of accidents might have something else favorable, he knew not what, in store. The a.s.sistant, therefore, quietly submitted, and followed as ordered.

Their course lay directly through the densest portions of the forest, and as the rapidity of their progress was impeded by the constrained position of the captive's arms, Sa.s.sacus, as if in contempt of any effort to escape, cut the ligatures with the knife that hung at his neck, intimating the motive at the same time by an acceleration of speed. As Spikeman was thus hurried along, his thoughts went after Prudence, and he wondered what had become of her. Notwithstanding his own peril, he felt (and it proves the deep interest he cherished for the girl) a melancholy pleasure in the hope that she had escaped, not that even though she had fallen into the hands of the savages, he would have entertained fears for her life, but she might have been doomed to a hopeless captivity, far away from friends, whom she was never to see again, and condemned, in some distant wigwam, to exchange the comforts of civilization for a wild life, which, to her, could bring only wretchedness. Bad as was Spikeman, and lamentable as might be his infatuation for the girl, there was even in that, something which redeemed it from being utter evil.

Daylight had now faded entirely away, but the Indians abated not their speed, and pursued their course in a straight line, as though guided by an infallible instinct. In this manner they proceeded for nearly two hours, and, at the expiration of the time, arrived at a collection of three or four lodges of the rudest structure. Several of the natives were lying on the ground, smoking their pipes, but they took no other notice of the newcomers than looking at them as they came up.

Sa.s.sacus led the way into the largest wigwam, and, having directed his prisoner to sit down, left the cabin.

Spikeman knew well enough that, with all this seeming inattention, he was vigilantly watched, yet could he not forbear from walking to the entrance, looking around at the same time, if, by chance, he might espy a weapon. He saw none, however, and two stout Indians made motions to him to return. Meditating on his situation, and casting about in his mind for expedients, either to evade his captors or to change the resolution of the Pequot chief, which, he doubted not, aimed at his life, he resumed his seat. He was unable to remain more than a few moments in quiet, and presently again approached the opening, and this time beheld a sight which curdled his blood.

It was a stake driven into the ground, at a distance of not more than a rod from where he stood, around which several Indians were heaping up f.a.ggots of dry sticks and broken branches. Spikeman shuddered, and tasted, in almost as lively a manner as if he were already experiencing them, the agonies that awaited him, for he could not doubt that the preparations were made on his account. The conduct of his keepers, therefore, was unnecessary, who pointed first to the pile, and then to himself, intimating thereby that one was designed for the other. The effect produced on him was such that he could hardly restrain himself from attempting to burst through his guards, either by some miracle to get free, or to obtain an easier death from the tomahawk or arrow. But in all the horrors of these dreadful moments, the mind of Spikeman remained as clear as ever, and he saw plainly the impossibility of evasion, and the folly of supposing that the Indians would be tempted to throw a tomahawk, or discharge an arrow against an unarmed man, whereby they might rob themselves of the fiendish pleasure they antic.i.p.ated--besides, thought the miserable Spikeman, I should be more likely to receive the stroke of death when their pa.s.sions are excited, than at present; and with a desperate calmness, and striving to defy the worst, he awaited what should happen.

CHAPTER XXIII.

These the sole accents from his tongue that fell, But volumes lurked below that fierce farewell.

BYRON.

When Sa.s.sacus left Spikeman, it was only to step into a lodge not half a dozen rods distant. Though smaller than the one into which the prisoner had been introduced, it was superior in comfort, as was, indeed, to be expected, being that of the Sagamore himself. Here he found the soldier, Philip Joy.

"What means this, Sa.s.sacus?" exclaimed the soldier, as the Pequot entered. "Was it not our covenant that the life of the white man should be spared?"

"My brother did not mean what he said when he asked that his enemy might be permitted to run away. Who, when he catches a wolf, says, 'Wolf, Indian set the trap only to see whether it would hold fast your legs. The wise hunter talks not so, but strikes the wolf on the head.'"

"Sa.s.sacus," said Joy, "this may not be. If you had caught Master Spikeman, by your own cunning, it might have been different; but it was the white girl and I who devised the scheme, and I told you where to place the ambuscade, which has been successful. Were you to murder this man, the guilt would rest more on Prudence and me than on you, whose savage and un-Christian notions may partly excuse so dreadful an act."

"My brother's heart is soft, like moss, but the heart of Sa.s.sacus is a stone. My brother must learn to harden his heart, and he shall soon behold a punishment becoming a great Sagamore. My brother thinks and feels like a Christian. Good! but he must let Sa.s.sacus feel like an Indian."

"Let him go," said Joy, "and he shall pay you store of wampompeag and colored cloth. Of what use can it be to you to put him to a horrid death?"

"Wampompeag and colored cloth are good, but Sa.s.sacus is a great chief, and they cannot make him forget an injury. Before the white men came, his ancestors punished and rewarded, and he will not surrender the prerogative of his family."

"By the bones of my father," swore the soldier, "I will not permit this cold-blooded murder. Hated I him ten-fold more than I do, I would defend his life at the hazard of my own. Where is my gun?" he demanded fiercely, seeking after it. "Who has dared to remove it?"

"Sa.s.sacus took it away, that his brother might do no mischief with it," said the Pequot.

"False Indian!" exclaimed the soldier, pa.s.sionately; "call me not again your brother. I will have nothing to do with one whose promises cannot bind, and who loves revenge more than honor."

"Sa.s.sacus never breaks his word, but, if he did, it would be only imitating the white men. Would my brother speak to my prisoner, whom, at this moment, he loves more than the justice of an Indian?"

"Why should I speak to him, when I should hear only curses?"

"Then remain here to behold the punishment of the bad white man."

He strode out of the lodge, while the soldier, burning with indignation, disposed himself so that, unseen, he might notice all that was done, and determined, unarmed as he was, to interpose.

Presently Sa.s.sacus re-appeared, emerging from the larger lodge, followed by the a.s.sistant, whose arms were bound again, and who was conducted by two savages, holding him by either arm. They led him straight to the pile around the stake, which the Chief ordered to be lighted, and whose billowy flames were kept rolling up by additions, from time to time, of the dry wood which lay in abundance around.

Seated on a log not far from the fire, whose heat might indeed be felt, Sa.s.sacus commanded his prisoner to be brought before him.

"Bad white man," he said, "look on yon flames! Are they like that h.e.l.l which thy powaws say is prepared for such as thou?"

Spikeman turned his ghastly face away from the blaze, with a shudder, but he said nothing.

"The white man is silent," said Sa.s.sacus. "He acknowledges the justice of his doom. Lead him to the fire."

Spikeman, notwithstanding the horror of his situation, succeeded in a measure in concealing his feelings, and, affecting an indifference to his fate, advanced a few steps with the two Indians, who held his arms, when, suddenly making a violent effort, he burst the withes with which he was carelessly bound, and, throwing them both off, started to run. The opportunity had probably been given purposely by the savages, for their diversion, and in order to protract the terrors of the captive, and knowing that flight was impossible. But, blinded by the glare of the fire, Spikeman remarked not a trunk of a tree in his path, and, stumbling over it, fell to the ground, bruised and torn, and before he could rise, found himself again held fast. Cursing his ill luck, he made no further resistance, but sullenly suffered himself to be led back. Philip Joy, on seeing Spikeman break away, started from his place of concealment; so that the two were confronted on the latter's return. The sight of Philip awoke a hope in Spikeman's bosom, who begged him to intercede with the savage.

"I have done so already," answered Philip; "but he will not listen to me, and has deprived me of my arms."

"Speak to him again--he will regard what you say. Save my life, and I will make recompense a thousandfold for any wrong I have done you or him."

The Pequot, smiling, stood by, quietly listening to the colloquy, and before Philip could address him, said:

"Did Sa.s.sacus promise his white brother to let the dog (pointing to Spikeman) run away?"

"You did; but care no more for your word than if you were no chief."

"My brother's, is a pappoos speech. Sa.s.sacus never broke his word; he only tried whether the dog was as brave as he was bad. White man," he added, turning to the a.s.sistant, "thou art free. A great chief disdains to give thee the death of a warrior. Go back to thy people, and tell them what return the Sagamore of the Pequots makes for thy breach of hospitality. His promise to his brother saves thy life this time. But, beware! A Sagamore does not forget. Be a snail that keeps its head within its sh.e.l.l. If the snail puts it out, Sa.s.sacus will step upon it. Depart."

He gave directions to a couple of his sanops to conduct the a.s.sistant to the verge of the forest, and, turning away, walked to his lodge. He was followed by Philip, who had now recovered from his amazement, and, understanding the conduct of the chief, felt ashamed at his own want of discernment and distrust.

"Is my brother satisfied?" inquired the Pequot.

"Sagamore," answered Philip, "I wronged thee. It shall be a lesson to make me more cautious in judging of thy actions."

"It is well. My brother will hereafter remember that the thoughts of a chief do not always shine in his face or sound in his words. My brother will forgive me," he added, smiling, "for shutting his eyes a little while very tight. It was that my brother might be the more pleased when he opened them."

"A trusty friend, this Indian, after all, in his way, (thought Philip, as he gazed on the face of the Pequot, which had settled into its usual gravity), and loves a jest, too. Who would have thought it?

Methinks he has the better of it with Master Spikeman, though I mis...o...b.. if he considers the score as settled."

As for the a.s.sistant, thus suddenly and unexpectedly reprieved from a shocking death that seemed certain, he was stupified at the abrupt change in his circ.u.mstances, and, as he hurried on, half doubted whether it were not a dream. As he threaded the intricacies of the wood, he had time to compare and weigh events, and was thus enabled to come to some sort of conclusion. He recollected now many little things in the conduct of Prudence, which would have opened the eyes of any one not blinded by an absurd pa.s.sion, and saw how, while seeming not averse to his pursuit, she had, in fact, only tempted on from one folly to another, until his whole being lay disclosed to her, without herself making any corresponding return. He doubted not that she had been all the time in correspondence with Joy, and with him had concerted the plan whereby he had been betrayed into the hands of the savage, to be outraged and mocked, and made to suffer all but the bitterness of death. He gnashed his teeth with rage as these reflections stormed through his mind, and, far from being grateful for his deliverance, resolved to exert the whole force and subtlety of which he was capable, to revenge himself on his tormentors. The fire of his indignation burnt not so fiercely against the Pequot, yet he, too, was embraced in the schemes for vengeance, for Spikeman fully comprehended, from his parting words, that the enmity betwixt them could be satisfied only by the destruction of one or both. Turning all these things over in his mind, he quickly formed a plan, which he determined to put as soon as possible into execution.

The dawn broke before his guides left the a.s.sistant; but it was too early to venture to return home, instead of which, he sought his store-house, and there pa.s.sed, meantime, awhile, brooding over schemes of revenge. Of himself he was powerless; it was therefore necessary to set other forces at work, and, in the letters which had been received reflecting on the character of the Knight, he thought he saw the means of driving, not only him, but Arundel also, out of the colony; and they being once removed, he trusted to his ingenuity to rid himself of the simple soldier and the Indian. The political power of the colony, in short, was to be compelled to effect his private designs. This, in the condition of the little State, was no difficult enterprise. In a strange land, hemmed in by savages, whose power they were unable to estimate with any degree of certainty, and who, however contemptible singly, were formidable by reason of their number--upon whose friendship they could never securely rely--on the eve of a war, probably, with the Taranteens--distrustful of even some of their own people, who murmured at the severity of the discipline they were subjected to--the government felt that they had need of all the eyes of Argus, and of as many ears, to guard against the dangers by which they were beset. They were like, in one respect, to the timorous rabbit, snuffing the faintest hint of danger in the breeze; but unlike him in that, they sought safety, not in avoiding, but in antic.i.p.ating and confronting danger.

"Dear life!" cried Dame Spikeman, as the haggard face of her husband presented itself in the morning, "where hast thou been all the night?

You look mightily cast down, and--O Lord! Heaven forgive me!--you have a wound on the side of your head. Husband, what is the matter?"