ON THE DECK OF THE "SANTA MARIA"
The Spanish sentries on the Place d'Armes were calling the hour of
midnight when the priest and I stole silently past amid the shadows of
overhanging trees. I find it impossible, even now, after the lapse of
years, to dwell upon my parting with her who despatched me on so
strange an errand. My reluctant pen halts, while the tears, dimming my
old eyes, bid me turn to other scenes. However, under God, the venture
of that night might terminate, I firmly believed I was gazing into her
dear face for the last time; yet, honor sealed my lips, holding back
unspoken those passionate utterances which burned upon my tongue. I
could merely clasp for one brief moment those hands she gave so
unreservedly into my keeping, gaze into the unfathomed depths of her
dark eyes, and murmur a few broken words of confidence and farewell.
Then, half blinded from emotion, I tore myself away from her beloved
presence, and went forth into night and peril for her dear sake.
However my heart throbbed with hidden anguish as I stepped forth from
that fateful house, the nature of the adventure upon which we were now
fairly launched was sufficient to cool my brain, so that long before we
skirted the guard-lines drawn around the camp of Spanish artillery, I
had become once more the cool, resourceful adventurer, as befitted my
nature and training.
"Sentries are stationed only along the open side of the square, I
think?" I whispered to my companion questioningly, striving vainly to
penetrate the intense darkness in our front.
"True," he responded in so low a voice I could scarcely catch the
words, a slight falter betraying that the strange conditions preyed
upon his unaccustomed nerves. "It was thus they were posted last
night."
"Then we will assume the risk of finding clear passage. Keep close,
and venture no speech, whatever happens."
It proved slow work at the best, as it would never do to have a Spanish
spy dogging our footsteps. I doubt not it tested good Father Petreni
to the uttermost, yet I thought the better of him for the determined
way in which he clung to my heels through the darkness. As for myself,
such dodging, twisting, climbing of walls, and skulking amid shadows,
merely sufficed to warm the blood, and yielded greater zest for the
more serious work to follow. I claim small credit for courage in such
matters; they have ever been so much a portion of life to me that their
excitement became scarcely more than a draught of heady wine. He was
the truly brave man who, without any such incentive as I possessed,
left his books and quiet cell that night to follow me abroad.
At last we ran across the great deserted market-place, and paused,
crouching breathlessly in the dense shadows of the huge warehouse
standing upon the very brink of the broad river. As we rested thus we
could hear soft lapping of running water along the further wall, while
occasionally some vagrant puff of air brought to our strained ears the
distant creaking of chains, as the great war-vessels swung by their
cables against the swift current. Beyond this the night was intensely
still, black, unfathomable, mysterious. It seemed fairly to weigh down
upon us with its noiseless burden of gloom.
"Are you acquainted with the interior arrangement of this building?" I
asked the priest in some anxiety.
"I was within it only once, and observed little of its features. I was
called there in haste to speak words of peace to a sorely injured man."
"Could you guide to the ladder leading up to the second floor in the
dark?"
I thought he gave a gesture of dissent, yet so dense was the night I
could barely note the movement.
"I am not certain, my son, yet to my remembrance it leadeth up near the
centre upon the river side. The building is doubtless empty of all its
cotton at this time of year, and we should be able to feel our way
across if only once within. How do you purpose gaining entrance?"
"Pah! that is the simplest portion of the whole venture," I said
confidently. "I am not likely to overlook such a point. The third
window from here has a loosened shutter; I brought this stick to pry it
apart. Then the interior will be ours, unless they keep a watchman
stationed within."
"Thou needst have small fear of that at this late season, and the
building empty."
We crept cautiously forward, myself in the lead, and feeling blindly in
the darkness for the loosened shutter previously located. At last my
groping hand touched it, and drawing the bottom outward as far as
possible by mere grip of the fingers, I inserted the stout oaken bar
within the aperture, and, after listening intently to detect any
presence close at hand, exerted my strength upon the rude lever. There
followed a slight rasping, as if a wire dragged along a nail,--a
penetrating shrillness there was to it which sent a tingle to the
nerves,--then the heavy shutter swung outward, leaving ample space for
the passage of a man's body. I lifted myself by my hands and peered
cautiously within. Everywhere was impenetrable blackness, while the
silence was so profound as to give a sudden strange throb to my heart.
Waiting no longer, I drew myself up on to the narrow ledge; then hung
downward until my groping feet touched the floor. Once safely landed I
leaned forth again, and in another moment the priest stood beside me,
the shutter tightly drawn behind us. With a feeling of relief I faced
that black interior. Now, at least, we were beyond chance of discovery
by any prowling Spanish guard, and could advance more freely.
"Lead on," I commanded shortly, resting my hand upon his shoulder to
make sure of his presence. "I will keep hold upon your robe, so we
shall not part company in the darkness."
Very slowly we felt uncertain passage across the uneven floor. It
appeared littered with innumerable articles of the box and barrel
order, with here and there a pile of loose lumber, altogether making
such a jumble of obstruction that keeping our direction became simply
impossible in that intense darkness which seemed to fairly swallow us.
We did well to proceed at all, and escape creating a racket by
stumbling over some of the many unseen obstacles in our path. As to
myself, I became so thoroughly confused by constant turning and
climbing as to grow completely lost, but fortunately the priest kept a
somewhat clearer brain, and, after groping blindly for some time,
pausing occasionally as though he would smell his way like a dog,
managed to put hand at last upon the object of his patient search.
"'T is here," he whispered. "Shall I go up?"
"Ay!" I returned hopefully, glad I had restrained the impatience of my
tongue. "But try each rung before you venture stepping on it; they may
prove rotten and give way beneath your weight."
He swung himself up, after carefully tucking in his robe about the
waist, but the ladder creaked so alarmingly beneath his tread I durst
not venture my heavier weight upon it until he had safely reached the
top. Finally the noise of his climbing ceased, and I could hear a
board move high above me.
"Are you up safe?" I questioned in a low voice.
"All safe, praise be to God," came the cautious response; "but thou
wilt do well, friend, to exercise grave care, as the way is bad."
It required brief exploration to convince us that this second story
possessed a strong, firm floor, although there remained some danger of
there being traps in it for the hoisting of cotton, while the boards
might not extend over the entire surface. By this time, however, our
eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the intense blackness enveloping
us, so the slightest change in the prevailing gloom became quickly
apparent. The air was so fresh and pure, with such a taste of the
night in it, I became convinced there must be an opening somewhere
close at hand, and whispered the suggestion to my companion. He proved
keener of vision than I, for even as we thus spoke he plucked my sleeve
and pointed upward.
"Then surely it will be yonder," he exclaimed, with more eagerness of
voice than I had before marked in him. "There is certainly a lightness
to the atmosphere overhead, as if it came from a direct opening to the
sky."
It appeared true even to me, now that he had pointed out the spot.
"It must be the roof hatch uplifted. Now if we discover a ladder
leading thereto I shall accept it as proof that God guideth us this
night, and feel new courage."
"Our work is of God," said the _père_ solemnly, "or I should never be
here with you, and engaged upon it."
"Nor have I ever doubted it, father," I made haste to answer, creeping
cautiously forward across the ill-matched flooring. "Yet you have been
a luckier man than I if never you found yourself in the wrong when you
believed it to be right."
There was a ladder there spliced with bits of rope, as we discovered,
yet proving of sufficient strength to up-bear us one at a time. Thus
we were soon out upon the great flat roof, lying prone at the edge,
whither we had crept silently, peering cautiously forth upon the black
river. That is, we gazed into the silent mystery where we knew the
river must be, yet it was like peering into an impenetrable bank of
cloud. There was something awesome about it, for out yonder, within a
few yards of us, swung twenty great vessels of war, manned by thousands
of fighting men, while not a sound reached us, except the slight
creaking of strained cables, or the occasional dash of a wave against
some obstruction in the stream; nor could anything be seen, if I except
flitting sparks of light glimmering here and there like lost stars,
serving to locate the positions of the various ships in their night
anchorage.
I felt, rather than saw, the devout priest at my side piously cross
himself, and there was a mumbling of his lips in prayer, but I
contented myself with searching through the gloom for a glimpse of the
towering masts of the "Santa Maria," which must be close at hand. They
remained invisible, shrouded behind the mist cloud. For one moment I
cursed the intense blackness of the night, losing confidence in our
venture. Yet, even as hope failed me, the dull creaking of a nearby
cable sounded farther up stream. Guided by this I crept cautiously
along the edge of the roof, aware as I proceeded that Father Petreni,
imitating my example, pressed closely behind.
Near the northern extremity of the long building we came to a halt,
and, leaning well over the roof edge, I peered anxiously into the
enveloping fog. A deeper density of shadow showed directly in front,
which I felt convinced could be caused only by one of those vast spars
around which canvas had been rolled, as noted that afternoon from the
ship's deck. Vainly endeavoring to pierce the thick mist, I
distinguished the steady tramping of some one pacing far beneath us.
The sound came from farther out in the stream, where I might reasonably
suppose the stern of the vessel to lie. I drew back, and placed my
lips close to the priest's ear.
"Can you distinguish any outline yonder?" I queried eagerly, pointing
as I spoke, and feeling fearful lest my eyes had been deceived by
fleeting night shadows.
Resting upon his breast, one hand shading his eyes, he peered long in
the direction indicated before venturing to reply.
"There is a shade of something yonder," he admitted at last. "It rises
a trifle above us, and almost directly out from this edge. 'T is hard
to say of what it consists, yet 'tis of a peculiar shape, causing me to
think of the foreyard of a big ship."
"Exactly what I name it," I replied, set at ease by his prompt
decision. "How far would you suppose the thing to lie from where we
are?"
He studied the barely visible object long and carefully, shading his
eyes again with his hands the better to concentrate his gaze upon that
misty blot.
"It is like a jump in the dark, my son, to attempt guessing at so
visionary a thing. At times it seemeth to fade away altogether, yet
back it cometh once more into the same spot; from where I lie it might
be twenty, or it might be forty, feet."
"Saint Giles! not so bad a guess either. I figured it at thirty this
afternoon from the bank below, nor am I apt to prove far wrong in such
judgment. Truss up this confounded skirt of mine, while I uncoil the
rope for a toss."
He opened his eyes wide in amazement.
"Do you hope to cast the loop over the end of the spar?"
"Ay, that offers the only opening to get aboard unobserved," I replied,
loosening as I spoke the slender rope coil from about my waist. "Nor
would it be any trick if the light were a trifle better. As it is, I
may miss a throw or two in getting firm hold. It would prove risky
business attempting to pass across a line insecure at one end. Lie
down now, _père_, and keep as quiet as if you were dead."
In instant obedience to my words the priest stretched himself at full
length behind the low wooden gutter. Rising cautiously to my feet, I
passed the cord with utmost care through my fingers, testing its
strands again, making certain it remained perfectly free for the toss.
For a moment I stood thus, swaying forward at the very edge of the
roof, my eyes measuring again and again the hazy, uncertain distance
stretching away toward that slight undulating shadow. It was
practically impossible to determine where the extreme end of the spar
terminated in air, yet as nearly as possible I made selection for my
point of aim, and, with three noiseless circles about my head to give
it impetus, shot the rope forth into the dense gloom. I heard the
opening noose strike something which rattled sharply in the intense
silence. Then the line slipped, hung limp, and finally fell dangling
down over the edge of the roof. It had failed to catch, and I crouched
low, making no effort to draw the loose end back. With the first sound
of the blow against the spar the steady tramping across the deck
ceased. A moment, and a gruff voice hailed in vigorous Spanish from
out the darkness:
"Aloft there! Who is on the foreyard?"
For a brief space there came no answer, although we were made aware of
other movements more directly below us. Then some one answered:
"The watch are all here on the forecastle, Señor. It must have been a
loose block that rattled."
"Two of you jump into the foretop, and make all fast."
The steady tramping was resumed, while a moment later we became aware
of the approach of men climbing through the darkness toward us. We
were unable to perceive their shadows, yet their muttered conversation,
as they lay out upon the yard, served to fix its actual position more
clearly in my mind. I believed I knew where I had so grievously
overshot the mark.
"_Boca del Dragon_!" grumbled one of the fellows hoarsely, seemingly in
our very ears. "The Captain is as nervous over those cursed
frog-eaters down between decks as if we were anchored off Paree."
"Think you that is the trouble, José?" returned the other in the
sprightly voice of a younger man. "I tell thee, comrade, 'tis only
that bloody demon of an O'Reilly he is fearful of. I have sailed with
the 'old man' in many seas since first I left Sargon, and never expect
to see him affrighted of any Johnny Frenchman. But I heard the Admiral
say two days agone, as I hung over his boat in the main chains, that if
the Captain lost so much as a single prisoner it should cost him his
ship. That, I make it, comrade, is why he has n't taken so much as a
glass of wine since first they were put aboard of us. _Bastante_! but
he must have acquired a thirst by this time to make his temper red-hot."
The other laughed sourly.
"Poh! I know even a better reason for his going dry than that, Juan.
He does n't have chance for a drink alongside of that gray-bellied
French priest below. _Caramba_! it takes him to polish off the red
liquor."
"How know you that?"
"Saint Christopher! how know I? Did I not just meet him at the main
hatch so drunk he fell over the coamings. The sojer on guard set him
up against the butt of the foremast to sober off in the night air."
I experienced difficulty in repressing a laugh at the words, but the
two fellows were going down by this time, grumbling in their beards
because they had discovered nothing wrong as reward for their trip
aloft, so I contented myself by silently pressing my companion's arm,
although doubtless he had comprehended no word of the conversation.
We rested there motionless, with no attempt at speech, for fully twenty
minutes before I ventured to haul in the line which dangled downward
from my hand. Everything remained quiet below, and, coiling it
carefully over my arm, I noiselessly arose to my feet once more,
poising myself to essay a second cast. As straight this time as an
arrow from the taut string of a bow the noose sped silently away into
the darkness. I felt a thrill of delight tingle through me as the end
settled softly over the end of the vague, distant spar. I drew the
cord taut and firm, not a sound breaking the intense stillness closing
us in like a wall. A heavy wooden post, with a pulley attachment,
stood behind where we rested, probably fitted there for hauling up
heavy bales of cotton. Creeping back, I wound the slack of the rope
about its base, drawing it as tight as possible, and then placed the
end in the hands of the observant and wondering priest, who continued
to creep after me like a shadow.
"Now all I expect of you is to hold hard on this rope until I get
across on to the spar," I whispered. "When I give three distinct jerks
on the cord, then let loose of your end; but drop it slowly, mind you,
_père_, so I can draw it in without noise. You had better creep to the
edge of the roof with it before you release your hold. Do you
understand?"
He nodded silently, his eyes gazing unwaveringly into mine. I held
forth my hand to him, moved by the sudden impulse of such a movement.
As he gave me his own in response it felt as cold as ice, yet I marked
his grip was strong.
"As soon as I coil in the rope you had better creep down and go home,"
I explained, speaking slowly, for somehow I felt it strangely hard to
part with this last tie between the present and the uncertain future.
"You can be no further use to me; Madame will be anxious to hear your
report, while it might prove exceedingly awkward for one of your cloth
to be trapped here after this night's work is discovered by the Dons.
So now good-bye; you are a man of nerve, even if you are a priest, and
I am glad to have been comrade with you."
I heard him answer something as I slowly crept down to the edge,
testing again the feel of the rope before venturing to swing off upon
it. I was not unaccustomed to those adventures incident to rough life
on the frontier; my nerves were not easily jarred by strange
experiences, yet I hold it no pleasant sensation to swing out on a
thirty-foot line at that height, amid utter darkness, especially when
you feel uncertain as to its secure fastening at the farther end.
Moreover, the priest's robe hampered my movements sadly, while, being
no light-weight, the strands of the small cord cut my hands. I durst
not hurry, but took the passage inch by inch, gritting my teeth as I
hung suspended above the abyss, lest I might emit a cry. In truth I
thought my arms would pull out of the sockets before I finally came
alongside the spar. Yet, thanks be to God, the rope held nobly, though
it required every pound of remaining strength to haul my dangling body
up, that I could rest across the wood before I felt after the standing
rope beneath. I clung there weak as a child, trembling like a
frightened woman, the cold perspiration standing in drops upon my face.
I have been in far happier situations than that--lying bent nearly
double across the yard of an enemy's ship on a black night, but at the
moment, so sincerely rejoiced was I to be off that sagging rope, I felt
like humming a tune. Yet I contented myself with sliding along the
smooth spar until I discovered a firm strand of rope beneath my feet,
ventured then to stand upright, and clung for support to the cloth of
the sail. At last I gave our signal, and, as the line slackened to my
hand, drew it cautiously in, coiling it as it came, until all was once
again in my possession. Waiting a moment, to give the _père_
opportunity to begin his retreat, I undid the noose yet wound about the
small end of the spar, and, with much care, feeling my uncertain way
through the darkness, worked myself slowly along, inward bound toward
the mast. Finally, close beside it I again made fast the end of my
cord, lowering it, paying out the long coil inch by inch, until I felt
convinced from its limpness it must extend to the deck.
I acknowledge it was several minutes before I mustered sufficient
courage to slip down into that intense blackness. It was not so much
fear of men which deterred me, but the oppressive silence, the mystery
of what awaited me below, rested heavily upon the nerves, binding me to
the spar, intently gazing and listening for either sight or sound. It
was recollection of that last, trustful look within the dark eyes of
Eloise which finally aroused me to action. Muttering an imprecation
upon my faint-heartedness, I instantly swung off on to the dangling
rope, slipping silently downward through the shadows to meet whatsoever
fate might lurk below.
It was a confused tangle of ropes I was compelled to traverse, yet none
greatly interfered with my progress, except to render it slower, and
the consequent strain harder upon the arms. The huge foremast, close
against which I swung, grew bulkier as I descended. Suddenly my feet
touched the solid deck. I discovered myself between the foremast and
the rail, so dropping upon hands and knees I crept silently around,
hoping thus to gain clearer view forward. As I circled the vast butt
of the mast I came suddenly face to face with the friar, sitting upon
the deck and blinking at me with drunken gravity.