THE BIRTH OF THE DEATH-DAWN
We durst not swim to the nearest landing, just beyond the bow of the
big flag-ship we had so unceremoniously quitted, fearing our efforts to
stem the current might attract the attention of some watcher on board.
So permitting myself to drift silently beneath the vessel's stern,
without the stir of a limb to disturb the water, I was soon well away
from the great black shadow. Without a word De Noyan followed. Yet
time was far too precious to permit long drifting, and at the earliest
moment I dared the venture we turned aside, striking out boldly for the
shore.
"We must move rapidly, Chevalier, to make up lost time," I cautioned
briefly, wading out, dripping, upon the bank.
"Are the streets patrolled by the Dons?"
"Ay! although not as thoroughly as when the Spaniards first landed. We
shall require to exercise caution."
"Where do you take me? There can be no safe hiding spot in New
Orleans?"
"I know none. We go to the rear of a long row of tobacco sheds near
the North Gate. A boat thoroughly stocked, with two oar men, awaits
us."
"I mind the place," he said eagerly, "I outfitted there for hunting
more than once. It is best for me to lead, as I know well every inch
of the path, and have grown interested in the play."
He certainly proved his familiarity with that labyrinth of sombre
streets and alleys. Selecting a devious course, stooping low beneath
the black shadows of walls and fences, he yet set so swift a gait with
his confounded long legs it kept me puffing to follow. But we found
clear passage, seeing no one close enough to interfere with our rapid
progress, while no challenge sounded, until we crept, silently as
possible, around the dilapidated end of the old tobacco shed, and a
black figure, scarcely distinguishable in the gloom, suddenly arose,
uttering no word, yet with threatening gesture, barring further passage
toward the river.
"Virginia," I gasped, breathless from the hard run.
"Bless de Lawd, Massa Benteen," returned a darky voice. "An' Massa
Charlie, as I 'm a sinner. I tell you, sah, we done 'bout gib you both
up fo' suah."
"Stop talking just now, Alphonse, and lead along lively," said De
Noyan, with returning authority. "We can converse later, in
surroundings more congenial."
Another moment and we were in the boat, the Chevalier pushing it clear
of the bank, then lightly clambering in over the stern.
"Benteen," he exclaimed, panting heavily, "I confess I'm about useless
from lack of wind. _Sacre_! I 've been housed so long I am weak as an
invalid, yet I can steer the craft if you inform me where 'tis best to
go."
"Up country is our only chance," I gasped, grasping an oar, vaguely
noting a second figure huddled within the bow. "All the lower water is
patrolled by the fleet, but above there are plenty of hiding places.
Lay down to it hard, you black rascals; you are pulling for your lives."
De Noyan extended his hand toward the east.
"It will be dawn in about an hour," he said, a tone of earnestness
creeping into his soft voice. "We can never pull against this stiff
current so as to get any distance in that time. This east shore is
flat as a board for leagues. I 'm for heading straight across. If we
gain the west bank within an hour, or even two, the Devil himself would
have a hard job to find us."
"Go on," I muttered, bending grimly to my task. "You know this country
better than I. When we reach upper waters it will be my turn to guide."
As I uttered these words, a bit impatiently, there sounded a quick step
on the low bank at our right. A sharp voice cleaved the darkness.
"Halt there! Halt that boat, or I put a ball through you."
"Sheer off lively, lads," I whispered. "Swing her head out, Chevalier."
There was a rush of feet down the steep embankment. Then a second
voice questioned eagerly:
"What was it you saw, Sanchez?"
"Nothing, Señor; I heard voices out yonder. Listen! As the saints
watch, 't is the dip of oars."
"Halt that boat, or we shoot!"
There followed a moment's painful pause. An oar in our bow slipped,
making an awkward splash in the water. "_Caramba_! you will not? Take
aim, men--fire."
A jagged flash of flame cleaved the night. It lit the steep bank,
flinging a bright glare across the dark waters. In that instant I saw,
my face set shoreward, a dozen black figures clustered in a bunch. One
ball crashed into the planking close beside my hand, hurling a splinter
of wood against my face. The boat gave a sudden tremor, and, with a
quick, sharp cry of pain, the negro next me leaped into the air, and
went plunging overboard. I flung forth a hand in vain effort to
grapple his body, yet never touched it, and everything about became
black once more.
"The poor devil's gone," muttered De Noyan. "The rest of you lay down
to your oars, before they have time to load again."
So quickly did this occur I do not believe we lost more than a stroke
or two, and were already well out into the stream, nothing except our
narrow stern pointing toward the bank, where some of the soldiers--we
judged from their voices--were reloading for a second volley, the
others searching the shore after some boat in which to begin the
pursuit. It was a hard pull, especially upon my part, as I chanced to
sit on the lower side, having full sweep of the current tugging against
my oar, while De Noyan headed the boat as directly as possible for the
western shore. The soldiers, completely swallowed in the gloom, made
no further attempt to fire; possibly, having seen the fall of the
black, they believed their work done. Nor did other sounds reach us
evidencing pursuit; for that moment at least we were free. It was then
I watched the coming of the dawn.
There was a slight, scarcely perceptible, shading into a lighter tinge
of the clinging black shadows that veiled the eastern sky, dimly
revealing misty outlines of white, fleecy clouds extending above the
faint horizon line, until they assumed a spectral brightness, causing
me to dream of the fairies' dwellings which my mother pictured to me in
childhood. Gently the delicate awakening spread along the wider
expanse of sky, which became bluish gray, gradually expanding and
reflecting its glow along the water, until this also became a portion
of the vast arch, while the darker borderland, now far astern, formed
merely a distant shade, a background to the majestic picture. The east
became gradually a lighter, more pronounced gray; rosy streaks shot
upward through the cloud masses, driving them higher into an
ever-deepening upper blue like a flock of frightened birds, until at
last the whole eastern horizon blushed like a red rose, while above the
black line of distant, shadowy trees, the blazing rim of the sun itself
uplifted, casting a wide bar of dazzling gold along our wake. Gazing
thus, every thought of our surroundings, our dangers, and fatigue
passed from memory. Bending to the oar, my soul was far away upon a
voyage of its own.
Some unusual movement served to attract attention from this
day-dreaming, my eyes falling suddenly upon De Noyan. His face, turned
partially away from the rising sun, was gray with anxiety, and I noted
he shivered in his wet clothes. Yet his smile and speech seemed
jauntily unconcerned as ever.
"Yonder was to have been my last sunrise," he remarked grimly, nodding
backward across his shoulder. "'Tis about the hour now for those in
the hands of the Dons to have their backs against the wall."
I caught a sound as of a partially suppressed sob behind me, but before
I could turn sufficiently to ascertain the cause, the Chevalier sprang
past, rocking the little boat furiously, and my ears overheard that
which caused me to keep my face set the other way.
"Eloise!" he exclaimed exultantly. "Are you here, little wife? Mon
Dieu! I dreamed it not; yet should have known you would never leave
such duty to the slaves."
"I was simply compelled to come," she answered, and I could mark her
voice falter. "Do not be angry with me. What have I now left except
you? The rising of the sun sealed my father's fate."
"True," he admitted soberly, lifting his hat in grave gesture. "I feel
like a condemned coward, my name a byword for the rabble, being here in
such comparative safety, when, in honor, I should be lying beside my
comrades."
"Nay; say not that! You are young; much of life, of usefulness, lies
before you. I knew that at the best only one destined victim might be
plucked from the Spaniard's vengeance. It was at his approval I made
choice of you. My father is robbed of but few years, while you are too
young to die. Somewhere--God guiding--we shall find a home again, and
days of peace."
"Ay! you were ever of brave heart, Eloise. But let us not forget we
yet remain in reach of Spanish claws, and they are merciless. Go back
to the tiller a while, and let me lay hold upon this oar; 'tis heavy
work for such soft hands as yours. Point the course direct for the
cane island--you must remember it; you were there once with me."
I fail to recall even glancing into her face as she sat fronting me,
her hands upon the tiller bar. I durst not, fearing some telltale
expression within my eyes might bring her added pain. So I sat with
glance downcast upon the planks, while tugging doggedly at the oar with
all my strength, feeling that same sunrise had brought with it my own
death warrant. So dull and heavy grew my heart with lonely weariness,
I cannot guess how long we pulled before the boat's nose ran up upon
the shore, and De Noyan, springing overboard, dragged it well beyond
view among the thick cane.
"We shall be safe enough here," he exclaimed lightly, gazing about with
approval. "Come, Eloise, step on this dry sand, for you must be
greatly cramped from so tedious a passage."
As I arose, the more easily to permit her passing me in the narrow
space, she suddenly grasped both my hands within her own; then my eyes
glanced up once more to meet hers, dark with unshed tears.
"Do not think, Geoffrey Benteen," she said brokenly, her voice
vibrating with emotion, "that I fail to realize what this means to you.
Your troubled face has been a silent accuser of me this hour past. But
I thank you; you have proven yourself a man, such a man as I have ever
believed you to be. May the good God bless you and bring you peace."
"Ay!" chimed in her husband, apparently in good humor. "He's the
nerviest fellow ever I met, Eloise. _Sacre_! had you hunted this
province over you could never have found one to perform better work
this night. I wonder how it was you chanced upon him?"
Without venturing a word in reply to either of them, I helped her
gravely over the boat's side, within grasp of his outstretched hand,
all about us the warm sunshine piercing the thick canes with golden
light.