The Knight of the Golden Melice Part 24

The Knight paused, as if the question was of importance sufficient to require consideration, so long, indeed, that Winthrop thought it proper to resume.

"I know," he said, "that it is a service not unattended with danger; yet did danger never frighten a n.o.ble soul, but doth ever act as an incentive. There is no one save thyself well acquainted with the tongue of these savages, (Mr. Eliot's knowledge thereof, I observe, is imperfect, and he is in other respects but poorly qualified for the enterprise), and who would be able to make the impression upon them and obtain the information which I desire."

"Disclose more perfectly your wishes, right wors.h.i.+pful sir," said Sir Christopher.

"I call thee to a danger which, possessed I thy marvellous skill in languages, I myself would meet. I will unbosom myself. The thought of a conflict with the Taranteens distresses me. It can result only in ruin to them and injury to the budding prospects of our colony. Our interest is peace. We want trade with the natives. We want their confidence. Without the latter there can be no trade, neither can we counteract the plots of our enemies, nor find opportunity to introduce the Gospel among them. The mysterious calamity which befel the emba.s.sy hath sadly shaken my expectations; but I am unwilling to abandon the field. What means are in my power I will apply to restore a good understanding. Moreover, I would be more fully a.s.sured of the truth or falsehood of the reports that there are Jesuits among the Taranteens.

Where is the man more competent to take upon himself this important trust--one which hath for its object to prevent effusion of blood--to detect the traitorous plots of a wily and deadly foe, and to advance the cause of unadulterated religion, than thyself?"

The Knight bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment, but said nothing.

"I seem to see the finger of G.o.d displayed," continued Winthrop. "For this very purpose wert thou sent among us; yet, n.o.ble sir, notwithstanding the importance of the object to be attained and the honor to accrue to him who shall secure them for us, let me not urge thee unreasonably. Seest thou imminent danger in the enterprise, undertake it not. I pray thee, without regarding aught that I have said, to act according to thy better judgment."

"It was through no apprehension of peril that I was silent," said the Knight. "Danger and I have been too long acquainted to distrust one another. I did but turn over in my mind the proper means to accomplish your designs. I place myself at your disposal, and am only rejoiced that (lamenting the occasion) I can be employed in any manner to advance a good work."

"Heartily I thank thee, Sir Christopher, for the cheerful tender of thy service, though it was only what was to be expected from a man of thy chivalric temper. I will take this thing into further consideration, and will shortly acquaint thee with my conclusion."

"And, meanwhile, I will prepare myself to fulfil the wishes of your wors.h.i.+p," answered the Knight, preparing to take leave.

"Commend me," said Winthrop, "to the friendly thoughts of Lady Geraldine, with sincerest hopes that the peace which surpa.s.seth understanding may nestle into her heart to chase away her melancholy, and may her steps be guided unto the true fold, where only safety is to be found."

"With many thanks," returned the Knight, "I seek my hermitage in the woods."

CHAPTER XVII.

"A something light as air--a look-- A word unkind, or wrongly taken-- Oh, love! that tempest never shook, A breath, a touch like this, hath shaken."

MOORE.

Sir Christopher, on leaving the Governor, proceeded in the direction of the hostelry, where he had left his horse; and on his way was greeted with one of those sights to be seen only in this strange commonwealth. It was a woman in the stocks, being no other than an old acquaintance, Dame Bars, the wife of the jailer. The good woman possessed a kind heart, but she was not perfection. She had a weakness for a pot of ale; and, if justice had in anywise been done to the proportion of malt therein, it was very apt to make her eloquent to an extraordinary degree. On these occasions, feeling herself to be clearly in the right, she found it difficult to endure contradiction, considering it excessively unreasonable and rude, and expressing her sentiments thereupon with great freedom. In one of these moods, she had been overheard by Master Prout, in a colloquy with one of her gossips, contrasting the "wearyful and forlorn" condition of women in the colony with the merry times she used to have in England; and upon her friend suggesting a few words in favor of the change, bursting out with sundry epithets more sounding than musical, and more energetic than complimentary.

We will not pretend to say whether Master Prout was more scandalized by the sentiment of dissatisfaction at the colony, or by there proaches lavished on the other goody, who, indeed, to do her justice, was not slow in the use of that formidable weapon wherewith Nature, as if to make amends for physical weakness, has armed the lovelier s.e.x.

It may be that both combined roused his righteous indignation, in consequence whereof Dame Bars had to expiate the sins of her tongue by silencing its eloquence in a cleft stick, and cooling her heels in the stocks.

But the appearance of the poor woman was now anything but belligerent.

So far from manifesting a refractory disposition, her face was covered with her hands, and tears of shame and mortification were stealing through the fingers. Her husband was standing by her side, and endeavoring to comfort her, while Master Prout, with his long staff, was threatening some idle school-boys, who, with the mischief natural to their age, were showing an inclination to proceed to extremities against the captive, which was not approved by the grave _custode_ of order.

As the Knight drew nigh, a feeling of pity was excited in him, and he stopped, and addressed some words to the officer of the law.

"I am unwilling," said Master Prout, in reply, "to refuse any thing to a gentleman so highly esteemed by the Governor, as yourself, Sir Christopher, and therefore will I release the woman; but truly was it my intention to detain her an hour or two longer, in order that she might have time for serious and profitable reflection. Verily, as saith James, in his epistle, the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison."

"Methinks then," said the Knight, smiling, "thou hast performed an achievement which holy St. James himself might deem a miracle, for the good dame's tongue is tame enough at present."

Master Prout's demure features ventured as near to a smile at the jest, as his principles would permit, and then approaching the woman, he unfastened the stocks, and allowed her to withdraw the imprisoned members.

"Good woman," he said, "thank this n.o.ble Knight for thy deliverance, and may this be the last time that these wooden bars shall contract a friends.h.i.+p for thee."

So spoke Master Prout, with a twinkle of the eye at the Knight, on account of the good thing which he fancied he had said, and the woman lost no time in extricating herself from durance. Her face was crimsoned with blushes; she dropped a curtsey to the Knight, and hurried off with her husband.

"Master Prout," said the Knight, as he turned away, "accept my thanks for the courtesy, and believe me that thou hast made me so much thy friend, thou hast only to express a wish, and if it is in my power it shall be granted."

On arriving at the inn, Sir Christopher ordered immediately his horse, and mounting, rode homeward. At a slow pace he proceeded through the streets, and allowed the animal, with the rein lying loose upon his neck, to follow the winding path in the forest. No adventure befel him on his solitary ride, and in due time he reached his home. He was met by Philip Joy, to whom he delivered the horse.

"Is the Indian whom I left in thy charge safe?" he inquired.

"He is, Sir Christopher," answered the soldier.

"Sa.s.sacus has not seen him, I trust."

"No one has seen him but myself. I have faithfully followed your orders, and kept him like a rat in a trap. He takes to eating and sleeping prodigious kindly, and has shown no disposition to do any thing else."

"It is natural he should do so, and you have acted with discretion."

With these words Sir Christopher entered the house, and straightway proceeded to find the Indian. He was lying on the floor, apparently asleep, but at the noise of the opening door, roused himself and sat upright.

"How have my people treated Mesandowit in my absence?" inquired the Knight.

"Well," answered the savage. "Mesandowit has eaten, and drank, and slept, and is refreshed."

"Is he ready to return to his own country?"

"Mesandowit is ready."

"When the trees cast long shadows he shall return, and I will go a little distance with him, lest he should meet the Aberginians."

"Good--and now Mesandowit will sleep." He stretched himself again upon the skin, which served for a couch, probably not entirely rested after the long and rapid journey he had made, and disposed himself to slumber. The Knight, on leaving him, went to the door of the lady's apartment, and gently rapped.

It was opened by the Indian girl, and he was immediately admitted.

"Celestina," said the Knight, looking first at her and then at her little attendant, "I have something to say to thee."

"Neebin," said the lady, addressing the child, "may run about in the woods a little while."

When the girl had departed, the Knight, seating himself at some distance from the lady, opened the conversation.

"Celestina," he said, "there has been of late a want of that frankness which characterized our intercourse at our arrival in this country, and for some time thereafter. Will you not tell me the cause?"

"Sir Christopher," replied the lady, "a suspicious mind is ofttimes deceived by its imaginations. Wherein, pray, has been a change in my conduct?"

"Nay. I know not that I can say, in this and in that thou hast not trusted me, but I feel that it is so."

"Look into thyself, Sir Christopher, and there wilt thou find the cause. The outer world is but a reflection of the inner."

"I protest, Celestina, I am not altered. Thou art to me as ever, my trusty and valued a.s.sociate, bound to me by ties of peculiar significancy, and as sacred as those which commonly unite man and woman.