The Knight of the Golden Melice Part 40

"I surmised as much," said Sir Christopher, partly to himself. "We will follow, Sagamore, and a.s.sure ourselves with our own eyes."

No time was lost in lamentation but the three instantly started after the band.

Sir Christopher could see the trail until it reached the wood; but here, notwithstanding his experience in woodcraft, he frequently lost all trace of it, though to the Indians it seemed as plain as a beaten highway. Never hesitating, even in the obscurest recesses of the forest where penetrated no ray of a star, with rapid steps they pursued their way.

Meanwhile, the party of soldiers, conscious of their strength, and enc.u.mbered with their prisoners, though pushing on at first at a good pace, had of late been proceeding more leisurely. Even Lieutenant Venn, satisfied that they would be able without haste to reach their destination before daylight, ceased to hurry. As they approached nearer the village, their vigilance diminished--the men talked loud and jested with one another, and it was obvious that no apprehensions of danger were entertained.

This state of things had not been unnoticed by Philip, who had been meditating over the question, whether it were not better to make an attempt to escape. "There is no great hazard in it," he said to himself; "but were I to get away I should be about as badly off as now, unless I could meet Sir Christopher or the Sagamore; and perhaps they have been captured by some other party, for our folk do not things by halves. They have taken away my snap-chance, too, and I cannot shoot with arrows like a savage, so that, as one may say, I am a sort of cat without claws. I know not what they can have against me now, or why I should be afraid of them; and yet, when I think of their purgatory of a prison, it makes me crawl all over. A week's lodging there would about make an end of me. I think I have never been quite the man I was before, since they stuck me there."

Thus revolving in his mind the advantages and disadvantages of his position, the remembrance of his sufferings during his imprisonment, at last turned the scales in favor of liberty, and Philip began to think of means to accomplish his purpose. He tried, by lagging behind and falling down once or twice, to get into the rear; but this manoeuvre the vigilant eyes of Lieutenant Venn detected, who ordered him nearer to the front, and directed that he should be watched closer. Foiled in this manner, that freedom which but a moment before, and when apparently in his power, seemed almost a matter of indifference, a.s.sumed a constantly increasing importance, and the mind of Philip worked more actively than ever. In a short time they would be out of the forest, when any attempt at evasion would be folly, for, should he succeed in shaking off his guard, he would run great risk of being shot down in the open s.p.a.ce. It was therefore necessary to think quickly.

"If I only had Prudence with me," thought Philip, "I be bound she would have invented a dozen ways to get off by this time. Sweet wench!

there is some difference between sitting on a log with her and stealing a smack once in a while, though a slap be pretty sure to follow, and dragging my legs in the dark among the briers. But she is not here, and so I will e'en take up with Master Arundel, and suck his wits a bit."

"What think you," he whispered to his companion in captivity, "of making a rush, and showing our heels to the Philistines?"

"It were madness," answered the young man, in the same manner. "Thou wert sure to be retaken, perhaps shot."

"I have no fancy for either; but cannot your wit devise some mode to save me from yon lock-up? My bones ache when I think of it."

"I have no desire to get away," answered Arundel; "nor understand I how it can advantage thee, seeing that, sooner or later, thou art tolerably certain of being made prisoner again."

"Nevertheless, there is a chance of better things; and I say once more I like not the thoughts of the close quarters they intend for us. An'

you will not run for it yourself, at least help a poor fellow, whose ideas are like a skein of tangled silk, to avoid the bilboes."

"a.s.suredly, if you wish, what I can I will do to facilitate thy escape. Only tell me how."

"You have me there in a Cornish hug," said Philip. "An' I knew, I had not asked."

"You would not have us fight for our liberty?"

"I am not so crazy as that. Ten to one is odds that any one, except Sampson, might avoid without disgrace, and even he would not stand much chance, for all his bushy head, when bullets were flying."

"We must out-manoeuvre them by some stratagem."

"If Sa.s.sacus were here," said Philip, "he could show us the way. There is not a tree or a rock but would have something to say to him about a contrivance."

"What would you think, Philip," asked Arundel, (the direction of Sa.s.sacus to sound the notes of the robin, whenever he desired to see him, occurring to his mind,) "were I to conjure up the Chief?"

"I would think thee more cunning than any powah of them all, and, moreover, advise thee to keep out of the way of the elders and magistrates."

"Keep quiet a moment, and I will try my powahing."

So saying, the young man whistled the peculiar notes of the bird, which, in the dewy silence of night, rung wide through the Woods.

"Halt!" cried Spikeman, who instantly suspected some treachery. "Close up around the prisoners. Who dared make those sounds?"

No answer was returned; and, after a vain attempt to discover their author, the party resumed its march.

"If your powahing has done no other good, Master Arundel," said Philip, "it at least frightened the General."

"I am a beginner," answered the young man, jestingly, "and it would not be surprising should I fail at first. If it raise not the sagamore or one of his men before we reach the open s.p.a.ce, I will try the spell again."

But the notes had struck the quick ears of the Pequot chief, and at their sound he bounded forward at a pace which his companions vainly endeavored to equal, and which shortly left them out of sight; but they could hear the rustling he made tearing through the bushes, and, guided by it, followed. The noise occasioned by the movements of so large a party, and the conversation among them, prevented the approach of the sagamore being heard, especially as when he drew nearer he proceeded with more caution. Gliding from tree to tree, he was able to advance quite close without being discovered. What was the rage of the chief, when, at the head of the band, he beheld his enemy, the a.s.sistant Spikeman, leading as prisoners his friends and the little Indian girl. Not waiting for the Knight and the Paniese to come up, fitting an arrow, he drew the deer's sinew till the head of the missile touched the hand that held the bow, and sent it whizzing through the air. The cavalcade had pa.s.sed on, so that the front ranks were in advance of Sa.s.sacus, when he discharged the shaft, and the back of the a.s.sistant was turned to him. It entered just below the right shoulder, and was sent with such vigor, that, pa.s.sing between the ribs, it stopped not until arrested on the other side by the steel corselet which Spikeman wore on his breast. Shouting then his war-whoop, and drawing his tomahawk from his girdle, the Pequot leaped among the band. Like lightning it sunk into the head of one man, who fell to the ground. The chief raised it again, but before it could descend, a blow prostrated him, and, in an instant, he was overpowered and disarmed. So rapidly followed these occurrences, that before the Knight and Towanquattick came up, the chief was a prisoner, and every man on his guard was prepared and watching for an enemy. To attack would have been certain death or captivity; they, therefore, bitterly lamenting the pa.s.sionate impetuosity of the sagamore, kept themselves concealed in order to take advantage of circ.u.mstances.

Having disposed his Company so as to face in every direction, to repel attack, Lieutenant Venn approached to examine the fallen men. A corpse was all that remained of Ephraim Pike, who must have instantly expired on receiving the blow. His head was cleft to the neck, and portions of the brain were lying on the leaves. He had probably been selected by the sagamore (from his neighborhood to the a.s.sistant, by whose side he marched) as second in command, and thus expiated with his life his evil devotion to his master. Spikeman lay upon his face, groaning, while the blood slowly oozed from his wound. The lieutenant, with one of the men, raised him up, while Lady Geraldine strove to stanch the bleeding. An attempt was made to withdraw the arrow, but the pain it occasioned and the amount of blood which followed were so great, that it was abandoned. All that could be done was to carry the wounded man as gently as possible home. Venn, now at the head of half a dozen men, scoured the woods in the immediate vicinity all around; and, finding no enemy, returned, and ordered a couple of trestles to be made, on one of which was to be placed the body of Pike, and on the other the groaning Spikeman. Upon mustering the company, it was found that all were present, with the exception of Philip Joy, who had escaped in the confusion. Four men being a.s.signed to each of the trestles, to be relieved as occasion should require, the remainder having charge of the prisoners, and composing the van and rear, Lieutenant Venn re-commenced his march--Arundel walking by the side of the Pequot chief, to whom he expressed regret at his capture.

"It is a summer cloud," said the sagamore.

As for Philip, on effecting his escape, he felt some embarra.s.sment what to do with himself. There he was, alone and without arms, in the forest, wandering helplessly about, and, if unable to find Sir Christopher, in a worse condition than before. He had half a mind to pursue the band and surrender himself, when, remembering the powahing, as he called it, of Arundel, he determined to try it himself.

Imitating, therefore, to the best of his ability, the sounds made by the young man, he sat down and waited for the effect. Presently the figure of Towanquattick, followed by that of the Knight, stole out of a thicket and stood before him.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

But, gasping, heaved the breath that Lara drew, And dull the film along his dim eye grew.

BYRON.

On the arrival of the party at the settlement, Lieutenant Venn divided it into two detachments; at the head of one of which he carried the a.s.sistant to his own house, while the other, under the command of an inferior officer, was charged with the security of the prisoners. Only the sagamore was strictly confined, being ironed and placed in the same dungeon which Joy had occupied. Sa.s.sacus made no resistance, but submitted with a stoical impa.s.sivity as to an irresistible fate. The lady and Indian girl, as those from whom flight was less to be feared, and with whom it would be more difficult to effect, and also out of deference to the weakness of their s.e.x, were committed to the care of Dame Bars, by whom they were to be closely watched. As for Arundel, he was permitted to depart, the lieutenant informing him that he had been arrested only to prevent the carrying of information to the Knight. It is doubtful, however, whether, if Spikeman had still been in command, he would have escaped on as easy terms.

The little community was thrown into some commotion by these events.

The dangerous wound of so prominent a person as the a.s.sistant, and the capture of the renowned Indian sachem--not to speak of the lady--could not fail to occasion a lively interest. As soon as the results of the night expedition were known, (and the news flew with wonted celerity,) every body was in the streets, giving and receiving information, or what purported to be such, and making and listening to comments thereupon. We cannot, however, remain to hear the conversation of the grave citizens at the corners, but must follow those whose particular fortunes we have undertaken to portray.

The unfortunate Spikeman, unable to suppress his groans at the pain occasioned by the motions of his bearers--his clothing saturated with blood, which kept oozing from the orifices of the wound--was borne to his dwelling, and delivered to the weeping household. It would be absurd to suppose that any great grief was felt by Dame Spikeman, and hers was partly the feeling arising from early a.s.sociations and long familiarity; but it is impossible for the most stoical to contemplate, without emotion, one in the condition of the suffering man, and the tears of Eveline and of Prudence were mingled with those of the dame.

It happened that Dr. Samuel Fuller, of the Plymouth colony, who had come over with the first Pilgrims was in Boston at the time. He was immediately brought to the wounded man, and was soon followed by Governor Winthrop, Mr. Eliot, and other friends. The corselet had been removed, and a portion of the clothing cut away, and Spikeman lay on his side, spasmodically breathing. Yet had resolution not entirely deserted him. His strong character still spoke in his face, and he looked like one who, though conquered, was not subdued.

Doctor Puller approached the couch and gently touched the arrow, but it produced such a spasm that he did not repeat the experiment. The eyes of Spikeman were fastened on the countenance of the surgeon, and read therein his doom.

"There is no hope?" he gasped.

"I humbly trust," said the doctor, who was "not only useful in his faculty, but otherwise, as he was a G.o.dly man, and served Christ in the office of a deacon in the Church for many years, and forward to do good in his place" according to an old chronicle--"I humbly trust that a crown of glory awaits thee in the other world whither thou art hastening."

A groan, which shook the couch whereon he was lying, and gent the blood gushing from the wound, burst from Spikeman, as he heard the answer.

"Yea," said good and tender-hearted Mr. Eliot, let our brother anchor his mind on the promises which are very comfortable--For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but ye have received the spirit of adoption whereby we cry, Abba, Father.' For I reckon that the sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. 'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, and their works do follow them.'"

"Works?" interrupted Spikeman. "Who speaks of works? They are filthy rags."

"They are indeed but filthy rags," said Mr. Eliot, "to them who rely upon them for salvation; yet are they not unpleasing as being the fruits of saving faith."

"I will not hear of works," said Spikeman. "Moreover, whom he did predestinate--them"--a sudden pang prevented the conclusion of the sentence, but it was finished by Mr. Eliot.

"He also called; and whom he called, them he also justified; and whom he justified, them he also glorified."