The Knight of the Golden Melice Part 52

As it presented itself that day to the eyes of Sir Christopher Gardiner, surrounded by his Indian escort, it seemed an inconsiderable village lying on the slope of a hill, dropping towards the sea. A broad street, some eight hundred yards long, led down the hill, and was crossed nearly in the middle by another, the ends of which were protected by gates made of solid planks--the fourth end, viz: that on the hay, being without any barricade. The houses were rude and small, constructed of hewn planks, and stood in areas, around which were thrown fences made also of plank, serving as very effectual stockades against any sudden attack, and bidding defiance to the simple enginery of the natives. Near the centre was the Governor's house (built in like manner), and in front of it, at the intersection of the streets, a square block, answering the purposes of a fort, and mounted with four patereros, or small cannon, commanded the streets and four points of entrance. On the top of the hill, a large square edifice with a flat roof, whereupon were placed six cannons, shooting b.a.l.l.s of four or five pounds, dominated the surrounding country. The upper part of this building served for a fort, and the lower for public worship and meetings generally. On the whole, as against arrows and tomahawks, it was a very pretty fortified place, and would not have been found fault with by Vauban himself, could he have had the good fortune to behold it.

The Knight pa.s.sed through one of the open gates, which were closed only at night, and proceeded straight to the residence of the Governor. Here he was delivered by the Indians to Bradford, who chid them for wounding Sir Christopher. They excused themselves on the ground of his resistance, declaring that the wound was trivial, and had merely numbed his arm for a moment. (Such, indeed, proved to be a fact, when, shortly afterwards, the broken piece of the arrow was cut out.) The Indians were dismissed with the promised presents, Quecheco being permitted to retain the coveted gun of the Knight as part of his reward. A moment's digression to record the fate of the savage, and we will return to Sir Christopher.

Proud was the Indian of his new acquisition, with its gold and silver ornaments, so far surpa.s.sing in beauty all other pieces he had seen, and affectionately he caressed it, calling it his week-su-buck otaw, (sweetheart,) and often repeating, gee-wawee-fee-yi-ee, i.e., you are welcome. He was alone in the forest, the others having departed in different directions, and was on his way to Boston, where he expected to get more of the powder and ball for which he had covenanted. It was the day after his treachery, and he had nearly accomplished his journey, only three or four miles remaining between him and his place of destination, when he heard a rustling in the bushes, and saw Towanquattick advancing. He had first been seen by the Pequot, who, recognizing him, came unsuspiciously forward. Instantly saw Quecheco the consequences of being found by Towanquattick in possession of the gun, with which the latter was familiar as the property of Sir Christopher, and this thought, combining with his hatred, made him suddenly raise the weapon and fire at the approaching Pequot. The forest rang with the report, and as Quecheco, unpractised in the use of fire-arms, having discharged the piece but a few times, recovered himself, he beheld Towanquattick fitting an arrow to his bow. Seizing the tomahawk out of his belt, Quecheco hurled it at the Pequot as the arrow whizzed from the string, but both weapons failed of their mark.

Drawing his own tomahawk, the Pequot in turn threw it at his foe, who escaped by a sudden movement of the body.

The two Indians now stood regarding one another with looks of rage, and took the knives off their necks. Neither spoke a word. Each understood the other, and with flashing eyes watched to take an advantage. They were both powerful men, well matched in size and age, and equally armed, so that upon fortune and skill, more than upon brute strength, the result was likely to depend.

Presently, each grasping the knife in his right hand, and bending over, ready for a spring, they began, with eyes fixed on one another, to move round and round, watching for a favorable opportunity to make the fatal dart. Thus, occasionally increasing the rapidity of their movements, then relaxing their swiftness again, they moved in circles several times, but without drawing within striking distance. The thought occurred to both of throwing the knife, which, if skilfully done, might terminate the contest, but the consideration that if the stroke failed, the unsuccessful combatant would be left at the mercy of the other, deterred from the hazardous experiment. After various feints and stratagems foiled, by mutual cunning the two foes stopped, as if by agreement, to devise more effectual schemes of destruction.

In this truce of a moment, the eyes of Quecheco fell upon a tomahawk lying near the feet of his opponent, and un.o.bserved by him. His efforts were now directed to getting possession of the weapon, and he re-commenced the system of attack he had practised. It was no difficult thing, by a series of retreats and advances, and constant changes of position, to entice the Pequot, ignorant of the other's design, from the place whereon he stood, and presently the foot of Quecheco touched the missile. The movement of his foe's limbs in searching for the tomahawk had caught the notice of Towanquattick, and before it was touched by Quecheco's foot he had seen it. At the sight, throwing aside the caution he had practised, the Pequot sprung straight at his enemy, and, without seeking to protect himself, plunged his knife into the breast of Quecheco. The force of the blow threw the stooping savage upon his back, and before he could rise, the tomahawk, caught from the ground by the hand of the Pequot, crashed into the brain of the dying traitor. Drawing out, then, the knife, the Pequot, with a rapid turn that indicated a practised hand, pa.s.sed it round the head of his foe, and tearing off the b.l.o.o.d.y trophy, hung it at his girdle. A little while the Pequot stood contemplating the body, and as his eyes wandered from the corpse to the gun, which lay on the ground, and back again to the corpse a ferocious gleam of gratified revenge, like the lurid gleam of fires at night, swept over his swarthy face. Picking up, then, the gun, the knives and tomahawks, and stripping the corpse of the articles containing the powder and bullets, the Indian started in search of Joy.

Meanwhile, the Knight had been entertained with all humanity and honor by the Governor of Plymouth; nor was other treatment to be expected from the learned and accomplished Bradford. In appearance he was somewhat less than fifty years of age, with a mild and thoughtful expression of countenance, which revealed to the close observer as much of the meditative student as of the man of action. A thorough receiver and admirer of the principles of the sect to which he belonged, it was the business of his life to ill.u.s.trate them by his learning, and enforce them by his example.

That strange charm of manner for which the Knight of the Golden Melice was so distinguished, his persuasive voice and intellectual cultivation, failed not to exert their wonted fascination over one so likely to be influenced by exactly such qualities and acquirements as Bradford, and, indeed, nowhere were they calculated to exercise so great a power as in a country where they were uncommon.

The two gentlemen had met before, but the interview had never ripened into acquaintance; and now, that fortune had thrown them together in relations which might seem none of the most agreeable, but which the kindness of the one and the polish of the other hid in flowers, it appeared as if they were welcome to both.

"We have become acquainted under singular circ.u.mstances, Sir Christopher," said Bradford, a day or two after the Knight came to Plymouth; "and, although wishing they were somewhat different, I can scarcely regret the providence which has brought so every way accomplished a gentleman to honor my roof. Your mind, wonderfully imbued with the gentler humanities, sweetly accords with mine own, and when you are gone I shall look back with refreshment and a sad longing to our thoughtful conferences. Never have the strains of the divine harper of Israel, whether exulting in the favor of Jehovah or sorrowing for sin, so affected my spirit as when read by you in the original speech of Eden."

"For your kind expressions, right worshipful sir," answered the Knight, "and the delicate attentions which make my imprisonment sweet, receive my unforgetting grat.i.tude. I, too, whatever unjust suspicion may inflict, will revert to these our religious and philosophic hours, wherein we discussed questions n.o.bler than those which, in the shades of Tusculum, engaged the minds of the great Roman orator and of his friends, with a satisfaction which shall not run out with the sands in the hour-gla.s.s of time."

"If outraged, by I scarcely know what wild reports, for the moment,"

replied Bradford, "I entreat you to forgive it, and to believe me that I believe them not. Remember that David fled before his enemies, yet the Lord delivered him and brought him to great honor."

"I am not worthy to be joined in thought with the Shepherd King, who, to the ringing strings of the harp, warbled inspiration," said the Knight. "Yet, n.o.ble sir, do I accept your words of cheer, and they shall be a buoy to bear me up as I cross this tempestuous Jordan. When is it your purpose that I should depart? Accompany you me, or go I melancholy, alone?"

"As for the first question, you shall remain at your pleasure, or until Governor Winthrop requires your presence; as for the latter, though unable to leave home at present, I hope shortly to be at leisure. Thus generally can I answer, but present or absent, my best wishes shall attend you."

The above conversation is sufficient to give an idea of the relation of the Governor and Knight to one another, and of the feelings of both. In truth, the enjoyment of Sir Christopher was almost as great as Bradford's, and neither manifested any desire to shorten their intercourse. Every leisure moment devoted the Plymouth Governor to his agreeable companion--their conversations turning more on questions of literature than on political matters. These latter, the Knight avoided, seeking thereby to impress the other with the opinion, that he felt but little interest in them.

In this manner pa.s.sed the time, until one morning the Governor announced that messengers had arrived from Winthrop, commissioned to wait on Sir Christopher to his presence.

"I grieve," said Bradford, "that I cannot go with you. Matters of instant importance demand my presence here, but so far as friendly words in a letter may avail they shall not be wanting. May it please you to be ready at your convenience, and meanwhile I will prepare my epistle."

At the time appointed, four armed men appeared at the Governor's house to receive the prisoner. To them Sir Christopher was delivered by Bradford, who, at the same time, handed them a letter for Winthrop.

Upon the departure of one whose presence had imparted so much pleasure; from whom no unguarded word of censure or impatience had escaped, and who had revealed a mind adorned with such rich stores of culture, the scholastic Bradford sought his study, a small room, or closet, well supplied with books, to meditate on what had happened and to pursue his studies. Absorbed in his books, hours pa.s.sed away unheeded, and he remarked not the opening of the door and entrance of a serving-man, who, seeing his master engaged, waited respectfully until he should be noticed. At length Bradford looked up and demanded his business.

"This," said the man, "was found in the chamber of Sir Christopher Gardiner." So saying, he handed to the Governor a small leathern pocket-book, such as were used for making memoranda, and withdrew.

Bradford, on being left alone, turned the book several times in his hand with a doubting air, then placing it at a little distance before him, leaned his head on his elbow, and began to muse.

"_Publico utilitati cedet jus privatum_," he said at last aloud, and opened the book. He had hardly glanced his eyes at the page, when they lighted up, and he seemed to read with intense interest.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, after reading through several leaves: "was ever man worse deceived? Here have I been harboring in my house and taking to my bosom a concealed Papist, as this writing sufficiently discloses. Nor yet a born Papist either, laboring under a delusion sucked in with mother's milk, but a recreant Protestant, a voluntary seeker after error; for here are written down the memorial of his shame, the very time and place where and when he struck hands with Anti-Christ, the name of the university where he a.s.sumed the scapula, as the blinded errorists call two woollen bands, the one crossing the breast and the other the back, one of those ridiculous mummeries whereby, with other devices and unseemly grimaces, they have contrived to bring the cross itself of the Redeemer into disrespect, and the degrees in superst.i.tion taken by this wretched backslider. Woe is me!

How can the arch-deceiver a.s.sume the form of an angel of light! Yet is here no name written. The memorandum may refer to some-one else. But that cannot be. Himself is meant. Why should he carry about with him a note of this kind respecting another? This betrayer of treachery, this touchstone of truth, shall off forthwith to Winthrop, and be the antidote to the bane of my letter."

Thus murmured Governor Bradford, grieved as well as vexed at the deceit, as he supposed it to be. With a rapid hand, he wrote an account of his discovery, and entrusting it, with the note-book, to a messenger, commanded him to hasten after the soldiers from Governor Winthrop, and deliver to them the package.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

Nought is on earth more sacred or divine, That G.o.ds and men do equally adore, Than this same virtue that doth right define, For th' heavens themselves, whence mortal men implore, Right in their wrongs, are ruled by righteous lore.

SPENSER'S FAERY QUEEN.

It was with some embarra.s.sment that Governor Winthrop received his prisoner, though none was manifested in the mien of Sir Christopher.

On the contrary, his manner indicated conscious innocence, and just that degree of resentment which a well-balanced mind and good temper might be expected to exhibit under the circ.u.mstances. If there was any change in his bearing, he was a trifle haughtier, as presuming on his rank--a trait never noticed in him before, and it showed itself by his speaking first, without waiting to be addressed, the moment he entered the presence of the Governor.

"By what authority," he demanded with some sternness, "is it, that I, a free-born Englishman, innocent of crime, have a price set on my head, and am hunted by savages bribed for that purpose?"

Before making a reply, the Governor intimated his desire to be left alone with the Knight, whereupon those present retired.

"You inquire by what authority you are arrested," said Winthrop. "I answer, by that authority vested in me by charter, as the ruler of a State; by common law, and by common sense. The question is not asked by one with the endowments of Sir Christopher Gardiner because he is ignorant, but for some other reason."

"Is it in humanity," returned the Knight, "not to be annoyed at the outrage? How bitterly," he added, looking sorrowfully at Winthrop, "is the pain of the wound aggravated by the knowledge from whose quiver flew the arrow!"

"I may not choose between my duty and my inclination," responded the Governor. "I were, otherwise, more unworthy than I am of the awfully responsible station which Providence hath a.s.signed me. It shall never be said that, through favor or other motive, I buried the one talent committed to my keeping."

"I dared not, at my entrance," replied the Knight, who strove to make his tone and demeanor conciliatory, "entertain the thought that a friendly feeling toward me lurked in his bosom, by whose mandate my helpless household has been invaded in the night and made prisoners, and my house turned into a heap of ashes."

"It was by no order of mine," said Winthrop, hastily, "that the house was burned, and I lament its destruction as deeply as yourself. How it caught fire, is to me unknown; but if by the act of our people and not of the savages, ample recompense shall be made."

"How shall that be determined? But I will not waste my words thereupon. The loss of my house and other property is insignificant, compared with the cruel wrong done the Lady Geraldine and the dishonor to my name."

"She, whom you call the Lady Geraldine, has been treated with all courtesy; and, considering what, in the judgment of the Council, has been proved against her, with more than she is ent.i.tled to. For yourself, every opportunity shall be granted to clear off the clouds of suspicion hovering over you."

"Only a clear field and no favor do I desire for myself; but for the persecuted lady, my cousin, I pledge you my knightly word that any charges reflecting upon her character as a virtuous and G.o.dly lady, are infamous and false. You perceive, right worshipful sir, that I do not pretend to be ignorant of the accusations which inventive malice, hatched out of what c.o.c.katrice egg I know not, has brought against my suffering cousin, but I p.r.o.nounce them, again, alike dastardly and without truth."

"If so, she is, indeed, greatly wronged, though partly responsible herself therefor, as having confessed the same."

"Then have strange means been employed to make her acknowledge a lie,"

said the Knight, warmly, "for any such confession were utterly untrue.

I have heard of wretches, who, upon the rack, in order to escape its intolerable agonies, have accused themselves of all sorts of crimes of which they were innocent. Is this the way you have abused my relative?"

"Sir Christopher," answered Winthrop, mildly, "you know as well as I that such practices are alien to the spirit of British law and unused by us. Touching this unhappy female, I think it meet to say no more at present, but will wish you success in the vindication of yourself."

"For myself," replied the Knight, "I care little. The character of a man is like a garment, which, when soiled, may be washed and restored to a likeness of its pristine beauty; that of a woman resembles white paper, whereupon if a drop of blood has ever fallen, it may never be erased. But what are the accusations devised against me?"

"Sir Christopher," answered Winthrop, with some hesitation, "it were hardly orderly to communicate them to you now. Before the Council, perhaps, should you hear them first. And yet see I no reason why, in harmony with the merciful spirit of our law, they should not be disclosed. We desire to overpower no man by surprise, or to deprive truth of a single aid. You shall know."

Here Winthrop entered into the particulars, which it is, we trust, unnecessary to set down, as the reader is supposed to be already informed of them. He mentioned the contents of the letters from England, but did not exhibit them, concealing nothing except what appertained to the examination of the Lady Geraldine, all inquiries respecting which he either evaded or directly refused to answer.

Courteously, indeed, was it done; nor could Sir Christopher deny that the information was rightfully withheld. It was only in accordance with the usual proceedings of courts of justice, when those who are considered accomplices are examined apart from one another, in order that they may not, by a knowledge of each other's answers, be better able to frame their own.

To every accusation Sir Christopher opposed a steady denial. "That falsely suspected as I am," he said, "of other crimes and misdemeanors, I should also be deemed an usurper of a t.i.tle that does not belong to me, surprises me not. But grant me time to send home (as the English in the colonies affectionately call England to this day,) and I will prove my knighthood honorably won upon a stricken field, by irrefragable testimony. I will not deny that I have the honor of an acquaintance with Sir Ferdinando Gorges, but I am in no sense his agent, nor in any wise hold communication with him, save as a friend.

For the note-book found at my lodgings, and deemed conclusive proof that I am a Catholic, I aver that the memorandum therein contained refers not to myself but to one whom it concerns not you that I should name; and it furnishes no evidence against me, except what arises out of the fact that I acknowledge one who is of Rome to be my friend."