A PERILOUS VENTURE
Any call to action, of either hazard or pleasure, steadies my nerves.
To realize necessity for doing renders me a new man, clear of brain,
quick of decision. Possibly this comes from that active life I have
always led in the open. Be the cause what it may, I was the first to
recover speech.
"I hope to show myself worthy your trust, Madame," I said somewhat
stiffly, for it hurt to realize that this emotion arose from her
husband's peril. "At best I am only an adventurer, and rely upon those
means with which life upon the border renders me familiar. Such may
prove useless where I have soldiers of skill to deal with. However, we
have need of these minutes flying past so rapidly; they might be put to
better use than tears, or words of gratitude."
She looked upward at me with wet eyes.
"You are right; I am a child, it seems. Tell me your desire, and I
will endeavor to act the woman."
"First, I must comprehend more clearly the nature of the work before
me. The Chevalier de Noyan is already under sentence of death; the
hour of execution to-morrow at sunrise?"
She bent her head in quiet acquiescence, her anxious eyes never leaving
my face.
"It is now already approaching noon, leaving us barely eighteen hours
in which to effect his rescue. Faith! 't is short space for action."
I glanced uneasily aside at the silently observant priest, now
standing, a slender gray figure, close beside the door. He was not of
an Order I greatly loved.
"You need have no fear," she exclaimed, hastily interpreting my
thought. "Father Petreni can be fully trusted. He is more than my
religious confessor; he has been my friend from childhood."
"Yes, Monsieur," he interposed sadly, yet with a grave smile lighting
his thin white face. "I shall be able to accomplish little in your
aid, for my trade is not that of arms, yet, within my physical
limitations, I am freely at your service."
"That is well," I responded heartily, words and tone yielding me fresh
confidence in the man. "This is likely to prove a night when comrades
will need to know each other. Now a few questions, after which I will
look over the ground before attempting to outline any plan of action.
You say, Madame, that your--Chevalier de Noyan is a prisoner on the
fleet in the river. Upon which ship is he confined?"
"The 'Santa Maria.'"
"The 'Santa Maria'?--if memory serve, the largest of them all?"
"Yes! the flag-ship."
"She lies, as I remember, for I stood on the levee two hours ago
watching the strange spectacle, close in toward the shore, beside the
old sugar warehouse of Bomanceaux et fils."
"You are correct," returned the Capuchin soberly, the lady hesitating.
"The ship swingeth by her cable scarce thirty feet from the bank."
"That, at least, has sound of good fortune," I thought, revolving
rapidly a sudden inspiration from his answer, "yet it will prove a
desperate trick to try."
Then I spoke aloud once more.
"She appeared a veritable monster of the sea to my backwoods eyes;
enough to pluck the heart out of a man. Has either of you stepped
aboard her?"
The priest shook his shaven head despondently.
"Nay; never any Frenchman, except as prisoner in shackles, has found
foothold upon that deck since O'Reilly came. It is reported no negro
boatmen are permitted to approach her side with cargoes of fruit and
vegetables, so closely is she guarded against all chances of treachery."
"Faith! it must be an important crime to bring such extremity of
vigilance. With what is De Noyan charged?"
"He, with others, is held for treason against the King of Spain."
"There are more than one, then?"
"Five." He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "Madame de Noyan's
father is among them."
"Lafrénière?" I uttered the name in astonishment. "Then why am I not
asked to assist him?"
The thoughtless exclamation cut her deeply with its seeming implication
of neglect, yet the words she strove to speak failed to come. The
priest rebuked me gravely:
"Thou doest great injustice by such inconsiderate speech, my son.
There are hearts loyal to France in this province, who would count
living a crime if it were won at the cost of Lafrénière. He hath been
already offered liberty, yet deliberately chooseth to remain and meet
his fate. Holy Mother! we can do no more."
I bent, taking her moist hands gently between my own.
"I beg you pardon me, Madame; I am not yet wholly myself, and intended
no such offence as my hasty words would seem to imply. One's manners
do not improve with long dwelling among savages."
She met my stumbling apology with a radiant smile.
"I know your heart too well to misjudge. Yet it hurt me to feel you
could deem me thoughtless toward my father."
"You have seen him since his arrest?"
"Once only--at the Captain-General's office, before they were condemned
and taken aboard the flag-ship."
"But the prisoners are Catholics; surely they are permitted the offices
of the Church at such a time?"
A hard look swept across the Capuchin's pale, ascetic face.
"Oh, ay! I had quite forgotten," he explained bitterly. "They enjoy
the ministrations of Father Cassati, of our Order, as representative of
Holy Church."
"Pouf!" I muttered gloomily. "It is bad to have the guard-lines drawn
so closely. Besides, I know little about the way of ships; how they
are arranged within, or even along the open decks. We meet them not in
the backwoods, so this is an adventure little to my taste. It would
hardly be prudent, even could I obtain safe footing there, to attempt
following a trail in the dark when I knew not where it led. I must
either see the path I am to travel by good daylight, or else procure a
guide. This Father Cassati might answer. Is he one to trust?"
The priest turned his head away with a quick gesture of indignant
dissent.
"Nay!" he exclaimed emphatically. "He must never be approached upon
such a matter. He can be sweet enough with all men to their faces; the
words of his mouth are as honey; yet he would be true to none. It is
not according to the canons of our Order for me thus to speak, yet I
only give utterance to truth as I know it in the sight of God. Not
even the Spaniards themselves have faith in him. He has not been
permitted to set foot upon shore since first he went aboard."
"And you have no plan, no suggestion to offer for my guidance?"
"Mon Dieu, no!" he cried dramatically. "I cannot think the first
thing."
"And you, Madame?"
She was kneeling close beside a large chair, her fine dark eyes eagerly
searching my face.
"It rests wholly with you," she said solemnly, "and God."
Twice, three times, I paced slowly across the floor in anxious
reflection; each time, as I turned, I gazed again into her trustful,
appealing eyes. It was love calling to me in silent language far more
effective than speech; at last, I paused and faced her.
"Madame de Noyan," I said deliberately, my voice seeming to falter with
the intensity of my feelings, "I beg you do not expect too much from
me. Your appeal has been made to a simple frontiersman, unskilled in
war except with savages, and it is hardly probable I shall be able to
outwit the trained guardsmen of Spain. Yet this I will say: I have
determined to venture all at your desire. As I possess small skill or
knowledge to aid me, I shall put audacity to the front, permitting
sheer daring either to succeed or fail. But it would be wrong, Madame,
for me to encourage you with false expectation. I deem it best to be
perfectly frank, and I do not clearly see how this rescue is to be
accomplished. I can form no definite plan of action; all I even hope
for is, that the good God will open up a path, showing me how such
desperate purpose may be accomplished. If this prove true--and I beg
you pray fervently to that end--you may trust me to accept the
guidance, let the personal danger be what it may. But I cannot plan,
cannot promise--I can only go forward blindly, seeking some opening not
now apparent. This alone I know, to remain here in conversation is
useless. I must discover means by which I may reach the 'Santa Maria'
and penetrate below her deck if possible. That is my first object, and
it alone presents a problem sufficient to tax my poor wits to the
uttermost. So all I dare say now, Madame, is, that I will use my
utmost endeavor to save your hus--the Chevalier de Noyan. I request
you both remain here--it would be well in prayer--ready to receive, and
obey at once, any message I may need to send. If possible I will visit
you again in person before nightfall, but in any case, and whatever
happens, try to believe that I am doing all I can with such brains as I
possess, and that I count my own life nothing in your service."
However they may sound now, there was no spirit of boasting in these
words. Conceit is not of my nature, and, indeed, at that time I had
small enough faith in myself. I merely sought to encourage the poor
girl with what little hope I possessed, and knew she read the truth
behind those utterances which sounded so brave. Even as I finished she
arose to her feet, standing erect before me, looking a very queen.
"Never will I doubt that, Geoffrey Benteen," she declared impulsively.
"I have seen you in danger, and never forgotten it. If it is any
encouragement to hear it spoken from my lips, know, even as you go
forth from here, that never did woman trust man as I trust you."
The hot blood surged into my face with a madness I retained barely
sufficient strength to conquer.
"I--I accept your words in the same spirit with which they are
offered," I stammered, hardly aware of what I said. "They are of
greatest worth to me."
I bowed low above the white hand resting so confidingly within mine,
anxious to escape from the room before my love gave utterance to some
foolish speech. Yet even as I turned hastily toward the door, I paused
with a final question.
"The negro who guided me here, Madame; is he one in whom I may repose
confidence?"
"In all things," she answered gravely. "He has been with the De Noyan
family from a child, and is devoted to his master."
"Then I take him with me for use should I chance to require a
messenger."
With a swift backward glance into her earnest dark eyes, an indulgence
I could not deny myself, I bowed my way forth from the room, and
discovering Alphonse upon the porch, where he evidently felt himself on
guard, and bidding him it was the will of his mistress that he follow,
I flung my rifle across my shoulder, and strode straight ahead until I
came out upon the river bank. Turning to the right I worked my way
rapidly up the stream, passing numerous groups of lounging soldiers,
who made little effort to bar my passage, beyond some idle chaffing,
until I found myself opposite the anchorage of the Spanish fleet.
In the character of an unsophisticated frontiersman, I felt no danger
in joining others of my class, lounging listlessly about in small
groups discussing the situation, and gazing with awe upon those strange
ships of war, swinging by their cables in the broad stream. It was a
motley crew among whom I foregathered, one to awaken interest at any
other time--French _voyageurs_ from the far-off Illinois country, as
barbarian in dress and actions as the native denizens of those northern
plains, commingling freely with Creole hunters freshly arrived from the
bayous of the swamp lands; sunburnt fishermen from the sandy beaches of
Barataria, long-haired flatboat-men, their northern skin faintly
visible through the tan and dirt acquired in the long voyage from the
upper Ohio; here and there some stolid Indian brave, resplendent in
paint and feathers, and not a few drunken soldiers temporarily escaped
from their commands. Yet I gave these little thought, except to push
my way through them to where I could obtain unobstructed view of the
great ships.
The largest of these, a grim monster to my eyes, with bulging sides
towering high above the water, and masts uplifting heavy spars far into
the blue sky, rendered especially formidable by gaping muzzles of
numerous black cannon visible through her open ports, floated just
beyond the landing. I measured carefully the apparent distance between
the flat roof of the sugar warehouse, against the corner of which I
leaned in seeming listlessness, and the lower yards of her forward
mast--it was no farther than I had often cast a riata, yet it would be
a skilful toss on a black night.
However, I received small comfort from the thought, for there was that
about this great gloomy war-ship--frigate those about me called
her--which awed and depressed my spirits; all appeared so ponderously
sullen, so massive with concealed power, so mysteriously silent. My
eyes, searching for each visible object, detected scarcely a stir of
life aboard, except as some head would arise for an instant above the
rail, or my glance fell upon the motionless figure of a sentry,
standing at the top of the narrow steps leading downward to the water,
a huge burly fellow, whose side-arms glistened ominously in the sun.
These were the sole signs of human presence; yet, from snatches of
conversation, I learned that hidden away in the heart of that black
floating monster of wood and iron, were nearly four hundred men, and
the mere knowledge made the sombre silence more impressive than ever.
Except for gossiping spectators lining the shore, nothing living
appeared about the entire scene, if I except a dozen or more small
boats, propelled by lusty black oarsmen, deeply laden with produce,
busily plying back and forth between various vessels, seeking market
for their wares. Even these, as the priest told me, had apparently
been warned away from the flag-ship, as I observed how carefully they
avoided any approach to her boarding-ladder. The longer I remained,
the more thoroughly hopeless appeared any prospect of success. Nor
could I conjure up a practical--nay! even possible--method of placing
so much as a foot on board the "Santa Maria." Surely never was
prison-ship guarded with more jealous care, and never did man face more
hopeless quest than this confronting me. The longer I gazed upon that
grim, black, sullen mass of wood and iron--that floating fortress of
despotic Spanish power--the more desperate appeared my mission; the
darker grew every possibility of plucking a victim from out that
monster's tightly closed jaws. Yet I was not one to forego an
enterprise lightly because of difficulty or danger, so with dogged
persistency I clung to the water front, knowing nowhere else to go, and
blindly trusting that some happening might open to me a door of
opportunity.
It frequently seems that when a man once comes, in a just cause, to
such mind as this, when he trusts God rather than himself, there is a
divinity which aids him. Surely it was well I waited in patience, for
suddenly another produce boat, evidently new to the trade, deeply laden
with fruit and roots, bore down the river, the two negroes at the oars
pointing its blunt nose directly toward the flag-ship, attracted no
doubt by its superior size. Instantly noting their course I awaited
their reception with interest, an interest intensified by a drawling
English voice from amid the crowd about me, saying:
"I reckon thar'll be some dead niggers in thet thar bumboat if they
don't sheer off almighty soon."
Scarcely were these prophetic words uttered, when the soldier statue at
the head of the boarding-stairs swung his musket forward into position,
and hailed in emphatic Spanish, a language which, thanks to my mother,
I knew fairly well. There followed a moment of angry controversy,
during which the startled negroes rested upon their oars, while the
enraged guard threatened to fire if they drifted a yard closer. In the
midst of this hubbub a head suddenly popped up above the rail. Then a
tall, ungainly figure, clad in a faded, ill-fitting uniform, raised
itself slowly, leaning far out over the side, a pair of weak eyes,
shadowed by colored glasses, gazing down inquiringly into the small
boat.
"Vat ees it you say you have zare?" he asked in an attempt at French,
which I may only pretend to reproduce in English. "Vat ees ze cargo of
ze leetle boat?"
Instantly the two hucksters gave voice, fairly running over each other
in their confused jargon, during which I managed to distinguish native
names for potatoes, yams, sweet corn, peaches, apples, and I know not
what else.
The Spaniard perched high on the rail waved his long arms in
unmitigated disgust.
"_Caramba_!" he cried the moment he could make his voice distinguished
above the uproar. "I vant none of zos zings; Saint Cristoval, non!
non! Ze Capitaine he tole me get him some of ze olif--haf you no olif
in ze leetle boat?"
The darkies shook their heads, instantly starting in again to call
their wares, but the fellow on the rail waved them back.
"Zen ve don't vant you here!" he cried shrilly. "Go vay dam quick, or
else ze soldier shoot." As if in obedience to an order the stolid
guard brought his weapon menacingly to the shoulder.
How the episode terminated I did not remain to learn. At that moment I
only clearly comprehended this--I had a way opened, an exceedingly
slight one to be sure, of doubtful utility, yet still a way, which
might lead me into the guarded mystery of that ship. The time for
action had arrived, and that was like a draught of wine to me. Eagerly
I slipped back through the increasing crowd of gaping countrymen, to
where the negro had found a spot of comfort in the sun.
"Alphonse!" I called, careful to modulate my voice. "Wake up, you
black sleepy-head! Ay! I have you at last in the world again. Now
stop blinking, and pay heed to what I say. Do you chance to know
where, for love, money, or any consideration, you could lay hands on
olives in this town?"
The fellow, scarcely awake, rolled up the whites of his eyes for a
moment, and scratched his woolly pate, as if seeking vainly to conjure
up some long-neglected memory. Then his naturally good-humored
countenance relaxed into a broad grin.
"Fo' de Lord, yas sah! I'se your man dis time suah 'nough. Dat fat
ol' Dutchman, down by de Tehoupitoulas Gate, suah as you're born had a
whole barrel ob dem yesterday. I done disremember fer de minute, boss,
jist whar I done saw dem olibs, but I reckon as how de money 'd fotch
'em all right."
I drew forth a handful of French coins.
"Then run for it, lad!" I exclaimed in some excitement. "Your master's
life hangs upon your speed--hold, wait! do you remember that old
tumble-down shed we passed on our way here; the one which had once been
a farrier's shop?"
The negro nodded, his eyes filled with awakened interest.
"Good; then first of all bring me a suit of the worst looking old
clothes you can scare up in the negro quarters of this town. Leave
them there. Then go directly to this Dutchman's, buy every olive he
has for sale at any price, load them into a boat--a common huckster's
boat, mind you, and remain there with them until I come. Do you
understand all that?"
"Yas, Massa; I reckon as how I kin do dat all right 'nough." The
fellow grinned, every white ivory showing between his thick red lips.
"Don't stop to speak to any one, black or white. Now trot along
lively, and may the Lord have mercy on you if you fail me, for I pledge
you I shall have none."
I watched him disappear up the street in a sort of swinging dog-trot,
took one more glance backward at the huge war-ship, now swinging by her
cable silent and mysterious as ever, and turned away from the river
front, my brain teeming with a scheme upon the final issue of which
hung life or death.