The castle of Küssnacht lay on the opposite side of the lake, a mighty
mass of stone reared on a mightier crag rising sheer out of the waves,
which boiled and foamed about its foot. Steep rocks of fantastic shape
hemmed it in, and many were the vessels which perished on these, driven
thither by the frequent storms that swept over the lake.
Gessler and his men, Tell in their midst, bound and unarmed, embarked
early in the afternoon at Flüelen, which was the name of the harbour
where the Governor's ship had been moored. Flüelen was about two miles
from Küssnacht.
When they had arrived at the vessel they went on board, and Tell was
placed at the bottom of the hold. It was pitch dark, and rats scampered
over his body as he lay. The ropes were cast off, the sails filled, and
the ship made her way across the lake, aided by a favouring breeze.
A large number of the Swiss people had followed Tell and his captors to
the harbour, and stood gazing sorrowfully after the ship as it
diminished in the distance. There had been whispers of an attempted
rescue, but nobody had dared to begin it, and the whispers had led to
nothing. Few of the people carried weapons, and the soldiers were clad
in armour, and each bore a long pike or a sharp sword. As Arnold of
Sewa would have said if he had been present, what the people wanted was
prudence. It was useless to attack men so thoroughly able to defend
themselves.
Therefore the people looked on and groaned, but did nothing.
For some time the ship sped easily on her way and through a calm sea.
Tell lay below, listening to the trampling of the sailors overhead, as
they ran about the deck, and gave up all hope of ever seeing his home
and his friends again.
But soon he began to notice that the ship was rolling and pitching more
than it had been doing at first, and it was not long before he realized
that a very violent storm had begun. Storms sprung up very suddenly on
the lake, and made it unsafe for boats that attempted to cross it.
Often the sea was quite unruffled at the beginning of the crossing, and
was rough enough at the end to wreck the largest ship.
Tell welcomed the storm. He had no wish to live if life meant years of
imprisonment in a dark dungeon of Castle Küssnacht. Drowning would be a
pleasant fate compared with that. He lay at the bottom of the ship,
hoping that the next wave would dash them on to a rock and send them to
the bottom of the lake. The tossing became worse and worse.
Upon the deck Gessler was standing beside the helmsman, and gazing
anxiously across the waters at the rocks that fringed the narrow
entrance to the bay a few hundred yards to the east of Castle
Küssnacht. This bay was the only spot for miles along the shore at
which it was possible to land safely. For miles on either side the
coast was studded with great rocks, which would have dashed a ship to
pieces in a moment. It was to this bay that Gessler wished to direct
the ship. But the helmsman told him that he could not make sure of
finding the entrance, so great was the cloud of spray which covered it.
A mistake would mean shipwreck.
"My lord," said the helmsman, "I have
neither strength nor skill to guide the helm. I do not know which way
to turn."
"What are we to do?" asked Rudolph der Harras, who was standing near.
The helmsman hesitated. Then he spoke, eyeing the Governor uneasily.
"Tell could steer us through," he said, "if your lordship would but
give him the helm."
Gessler started.
"Tell!" he muttered. "Tell!"
The ship drew nearer to the rocks.
"Bring him here," said Gessler.
Two soldiers went down to the hold and released Tell. They bade him get
up and come with them. Tell followed them on deck, and stood before the
Governor.
"Tell," said Gessler.
Tell looked at him without speaking.
"Take the helm, Tell," said Gessler, "and steer the ship through those
rocks into the bay beyond, or instant death shall be your lot."
Without a word Tell took the helmsman's place, peering keenly into the
cloud of foam before him. To right and to left he turned the vessel's
head, and to right again, into the very heart of the spray. They were
right among the rocks now, but the ship did not strike on them.
Quivering and pitching, she was hurried along, until of a sudden the
spray-cloud was behind her, and in front the calm waters of the bay.
Gessler beckoned to the helmsman.
"Take the helm again," he said.
He pointed to Tell.
"Bind him," he said to the soldiers.
The soldiers advanced slowly, for they were loath to bind the man who
had just saved them from destruction. But the Governor's orders must he
obeyed, so they came towards Tell, carrying ropes with which to bind
him.
Tell moved a step back. The ship was gliding past a lofty rock. It was
such a rock as Tell had often climbed when hunting the chamois. He
acted with the quickness of the hunter. Snatching up the bow and quiver
which lay on the deck, he sprang on to the bulwark of the vessel, and,
with a mighty leap, gained the rock. Another instant, and he was out of
reach.
Gessler roared to his bowmen.
"Shoot! shoot!" he cried.
The bowmen hastily fitted arrow to string. They were too late. Tell was
ready before them. There was a hiss as the shaft rushed through the
air, and the next moment Gessler the Governor fell dead on the deck,
pierced through the heart.
Tell's second arrow had found its mark, as his first had done.
[Illustration: PLATE XV]