The Knight of the Golden Melice Part 38

"Justice! I trust not the justice of a State, where such as thou bear rule. Ye know not the meaning of the word. Sacred heaven! what would you have me do? Betray into your toils an innocent man, that I may avoid, I know not what consequences! Infamous tempter, I spurn thee!

And know, that were I capable of such inexpressible shame, I could not commit it. I know not where is Sir Christopher."

But, evidently, Spikeman placed no confidence in the denial. He strode across the room, as though reflecting on some subject, and then stepping up to the lady, bent over, and whispered some inaudible words into her ear.

"It is false. Holy Virgin!" she exclaimed, forgetting herself in the excitement of feeling, "must I bear this? Leave me! leave me! Rid me of your hateful presence! The room is full of horrid shapes since you came in."

"Ha! madam," cried Spikeman, "you have betrayed yourself. I have your secret, and will find means to force you to speak the truth, ere I am quit of you," and scowling malignantly, he left the apartment.

The excitement which had hitherto sustained the lady, seemed now to desert her, and she sunk upon a seat. Sobs broke from her bosom, and tears, which she vainly tried to restrain, streamed down her cheeks.

"O, holy Virgin," she murmured--"immaculate lady, whose heart was pierced with so many sorrows, help me to bear my own. This is the sorest trial of all. Without thy preventing grace, divine Mary, I shall sink under it. Intercede with thy dear son for me."

The little Indian girl, who, during the whole time while Spikeman remained, had stood by the lady's side, showing no apprehension whatever, but listening attentively to every word, and following each motion with her keen eyes, now kneeled down by the lady, and looking into her face, said--

"Do not cry, lady. Owanux have not found the book with the pretty pictures, nor the man with the sweet face, with his eyes shut, and his head falling on one side, upon his shoulder, who makes Neebin feel like crying when she looks at him; and Sir Christopher is gone away, so that they cannot catch him."

"Dear Neebin," said the lady, "thine are timely words of consolation.

Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings," she added, looking up, "dost thou ordain strength. I will be grateful for these mercies, nor allow a weakness to overcome me again."

The lady now, with more care, adjusted her garments, which, when wakened by the noise made at the entrance of the band into the house, she had hastily thrown on, and smoothed down the hair that, without a curl, lay on her temples. She paid the same attention to Neebin, and then, crossing her hands, sat down to await what should follow.

"Has any thing been heard or seen of him whom we seek?" demanded Spikeman of a soldier, as he entered the room wherein he had left Joy.

"Nothing, so please you," answered the man; "and Philip here says that our search will be bootless, for that he is not in the house."

"A fine soldier thou, and a shrewd," said Spikeman, contemptuously, "to trust what a prisoner may say! Call me Lieutenant Venn."

The soldier went out, and presently returned with the lieutenant.

"Hast thou discovered nothing on thy watch on the outside?" inquired Spikeman.

"We invested the building so closely," answered Venn, "that had a mouse attempted to run away, we had seen and captured it; but no sound has broken the silence, nor aught met our sight."

"Has the whole interior been thoroughly searched?"

"But short time does it require to unsh.e.l.l the kernel of a nut like this," returned the officer, looking round; "and Cowlson reports to me that everything in it, save in the woman's quarters, (which his modesty did not permit him to search,) is as well known to him as the contents of his own cabin."

"I fear that the princ.i.p.al object of our undertaking is defeated,"

said Spikeman, with a look, of disappointment.

"Yea," said the officer, "the prey hath escaped even as a bird from the snare. What is to be done now, seeing that Sir Christopher is not to be found?"

Spikeman did not hesitate, for he had been considering the course to be adopted in the contingency, and he therefore promptly answered--

"We have not entirely failed. We have at least the woman, and important information may be obtained from her. The hope of working her deliverance, or of making terms with us on her account, may also induce the Knight to put himself in our power."

"I like not," said Venn, "a foray, whose achievement is the making prisoners of Miles Arundel, of honest Philip, and of a sorrowful-looking woman. Meseems it redounds but little to the credit of a file of twenty men."

"I understand not," continued Spikeman, as though the remark failed to reach him, "by what means the man was apprised of our design. Or it may be, that, by mere chance, he is absent; for some evil purpose, doubtless. It will, however, avail him nothing, for sooner or later he must fall into our net. I have lingered in the hope that he might return and be caught by the men on the margin of the wood--a hope I give not up yet, and, therefore, perhaps it were better to wait awhile."

"I pray you, sir," said Lieutenant Venn, "to do me a pleasure in one thing. Delay not our departure until it be so late that the sun is risen when we enter Boston. I confess to some shame on account of this night's work, and desire that what was begun in darkness may be ended in like manner."

"What fanciful follies be these?" said Spikeman. "Art thou degraded by any service which promotes the interests of the Commonwealth?"

"Nevertheless, be it a fanciful folly or grave wisdom, I will take the liberty to iterate the request, and will hold myself indebted if it be granted."

"Surely," said Spikeman, "it is a light thing, and because you wish it, it shall be done. Call in the men from the margin of the clearing, and we will begin preparations for return."

Let no surprise be felt at the character of the conversation betwixt the superior and inferior officer, and at the influence exercised by the latter over the former. The men under the command of the a.s.sistant for the occasion were not regular soldiers but ordinary citizens; liable, it is true, to be called out at any moment to do military duty whenever an exigency arose, but without being subject to any very strict discipline. The most of them were voters, and hence a source of power, and therefore to be courted by any one ambitious of political distinction. Such an one was the a.s.sistant, and he stood in about the same relation to his men that a modern militia captain, who is desirous of civil office, does to his company of soldiers, and who, through fear of giving offence and so losing the object of his aspirations, is obliged to relax the strictness of military rule.

On receiving the order, Lieutenant Venn started off to execute it, and, as soon as he was gone, Spikeman took Ephraim Pike aside.

"Ephraim," he said, "the badger may lie hid in some cunning place of concealment in the house, and after all laugh at our simplicity at our departure without him."

"That can hardly be," said Pike. "The house has been thoroughly searched, and I would pledge my life the Knight is not in it."

"Verily thou mayest be right, yet is there a possibility of mistake.

Ephraim, with our hands on the plough, we will not look back. We must burn this nest of hornets, and should the Knight of the Melice be burned with it, there will be no harm done."

"I suppose," said Ephraim, rather sulkily, "this is a service you want to put on my shoulders, but an' you wish to burn the house, you can burn it yourself."

"That can I not do," answered Spikeman. "The thing must be done secretly, so that it may appear the consequence of some accident. Were I to absent myself I should be missed, but thou canst do it without suspicion."

"And suppose it done, what then?" asked Pike.

"Thou shalt have a gold piece for that which costs thee but little trouble and no risk."

"How shall it be done?"

"I will presently take all the inmates of the cabin with us on our return. After we have gone a few rods, do thou retrace thy steps and fire the building, and hurry back immediately."

"But should I be missed?"

"There is little probability of that; but thou knowest me, Ephraim, and can be certain that I will be able to account satisfactorily therefor should it happen."

"Yea, I do know thee," said Ephraim to himself, "for as cunning a one as Beelzebub himself; but thou hast never failed me, and I will trust thee yet again. I will do the thing," he said aloud, "since thy mind is set thereon; but it rubs mightily against the grain."

"Thou shalt not repent it," replied Spikeman. "We are in some sort confederates, and our fates are so interwoven that thy fortunes depend on mine."

With these prophetic words the a.s.sistant left his coadjutor, and returning to the apartment of the lady, requested her to prepare herself and the Indian child to accompany him. She made no reply, and, on his departure, sat some little time pondering what it became her to do; after which, she rose and prepared some articles of clothing.

Spikeman soon re-appeared, and directing one of his soldiers to carry the clothing, begged the lady to follow him. This she did without objection, holding the girl by the hand, and appearing indifferent to all that happened. She found Arundel and Joy, with a number of strange persons, in the largest room of the building, preparing for departure.

The countenances of the two men expressed the indignation which they felt, but they were obliged to content themselves with the offer of such services, as their situation permitted. This the lady graciously acknowledged in a few words, but seemed more inclined to indulge in her own private thoughts than to encourage any conversation. They all left the house together, and, when in the open air, were committed to the special guard of half a dozen of the party, who composed the centre; and, in this order, led by Spikeman, the cavalcade commenced their march. They had proceeded at a slow pace, on account of the females, and in silence, broken only by an occasional question and answer, for perhaps half an hour, when one of the men observed that either the moon had risen or the morning was breaking.

"There is no moon, Cowlson," said a soldier; "nor, according to my reckoning, can it be much past midnight. The light ye see comes from the North; and, an' it were winter, I should think it was the shooting of the Northern lights."

"These be no Northern lights, nor Southern, nor moon, nor morning,"

said another. "An' it be not a fire, my name is not Job Bloyce."