XVIII

I have seen the same effect when a stone was thrown into a boil of

river-rapids; an enhancement and marvellous entanglement of

swiftness and fury, and spread of broken circles, which confused the

sight at the time and the memory afterwards.

It was but a small body of horse and foot, which charged us whilst

we were cutting the tobacco on the plantation of Laurel Creek, but

it needed not a large one to put to rout a company so overbalanced

by enthusiasm, and cider, and that marvellous greed of destruction.

No more than seven gentlemen of us there were to make a stand, and

not more than some twenty-five of the rabble to be depended upon.

As for me, the principal thought in my mind when the militia burst

upon us, was the safety of Mary Cavendish. Straight to the door of

the great house I rushed, and Sir Humphrey Hyde was with me. As for

the other gentlemen, they were fighting here and there as they

could, Captain Jaynes making efforts to keep the main body of the

defenders at his back, but with little avail. I stood against the

door of the house, resolved upon but one course--that my dead

body should be the threshold over which they crossed to Mary

Cavendish. It was but a pitiful resolve, for what could I do

single-handed, except for the boy Humphrey Hyde, against so many.

But it was all, and a man can but give his all. I knew if the

militia were to find Mary and Catherine Cavendish in that house,

grave harm might come to them, if indeed it came not already without

that. So I stood back against the door which I had previously tried,

and found fast, and Sir Humphrey was with me. Then came a hush for a

moment whilst the magistrate with Captain Waller, and others sitting

on their horses around him, read the Riot Act, and bade us all

disperse and repair to our homes, and verily I wonder, if ever there

hath been in all the history of England such a farce and mummery as

that same Riot Act, and if ever it were read with much effect when a

riot were well under way.

Scarcely time they gave the worthy man to finish, and indeed his

voice trembled as if he had the ague, and he seemed shrinking for

shelter under his big wig, but they drowned out his last words with

hisses, then there was a wild rush of the rabble and a cry of "Down

with the tobacco!" and "A Bacon, A Bacon!" Then the militia charged,

and there were the flashes of swords and partisans and the thunder

of firearms.

I stood there, feeling like a deserter from the ranks, yet bound to

keep the door of Laurel Creek, and I had a pistol in either hand and

so had Sir Humphrey Hyde, but for a minute nobody seemed to heed us.

Then as I stood there, I felt the door behind me yield a bit and a

hand was thrust out, and a voice whispered, "Harry, Harry, come in

hither; we can hold the house against an army."

My heart leapt, for it was Mary, and, quicker than a flash, I had my

mind made up. I turned upon Sir Humphrey and thrust him in before he

knew it, through the opening of the door, and called out to him to

bar and bolt as best he could inside, while I held the door. He,

whether he would or not, was in the house, and seeing some of the

soldiers riding our way with Captain Waller at their head, was

forced to clap to the door, and shoot the bolts, but as he did so I

heard a woman's shrill cry of agony ring out.

I stood there, and Captain Waller rode up with his soldiers, and

flashing his sword before my face like a streak of fire, bade me

surrender in the name of his Majesty, and stand aside. But I stood

still with my two pistols levelled, and had him full within range.

Captain Waller was a young man, and a brave one, and never to my

dying day shall I forget that face which I had the power to still

with death. He looked into the muzzles of my two pistols, and his

rosy colour never wavered, and he shouted out again to me his

command to surrender and stand aside in the name of the King, and I

stood still and made no reply. I knew that I could take two lives

and then struggle unarmed for perhaps a moment's space, and that all

the time saved might be precious for those in the house. At all

events, it was all that I could do for Mary Cavendish.

I held my pistols and watched his eyes, knowing well that all action

through having its source in the brain of man, gives first evidence

in the eyes. Then the time came when I saw his impulse to charge

start in his eyes, and I fired, and he fell. Then I fired again, but

wildly, for everything was in motion, and I know not whom I hit, if

any one, then I felt my own right leg sink under me and I knew that

I was hit. Then down on my knees I sank and put one arm through the

great latch of the door, and thrust out with my knife with the free

hand, and stout arms were at my shoulders striving to drag me away,

but they might as well for a time have tried to drag a bar of steel

from its fastenings. I thrust out here and there, and I trow my

steel drew blood, and I suppose my own flowed, for presently I was

kneeling in a widening circle of red. I cut those forcing hands from

my arm, and others came. It was one against a multitude, for the

rabble after hitting wild blows as often at their friends as at

their enemies had broken and fled, except those who were taken

prisoners. But the women stayed until the last and fought like wild

cats, with the exception of Madam Tabitha Story, who quietly got

upon her old horse, and ambled away, and cut down her own tobacco

until daybreak, pressing her slaves into service.

As for the other gentlemen, they were fighting as best they could,

and all the time striving vainly to gather the mob into a firm body

of resistance. None of them saw the plight I was in, nor indeed

could have helped me had they done so, since there were but seven

gentlemen of us in all, and some by this time wounded, and one dead.

I knelt there upon the ground before the door, slashing out as best

I could with one hand, and they closed faster and thicker upon me,

and at last I could no more. I felt a stinging pain in my right

shoulder, and then for a minute my senses left me. But it was only

for a moment.

When I came to myself I was lying bound with a soldier standing

guard over me, though there was small need of it, and they were

raining battering blows upon the door of Laurel Creek. Somehow they

had conceived the idea that there was something of great import

therein, by my mad and desperate defence. I know not what they

thought, but gradually all the militia were centred at that point

striving to force the door. As for the shutters, they were heavily

barred, and offered no easier entrance. Indeed the whole house had

been strengthened for defence against the Indians before the Bacon

uprising, and was near as strong as a fort. It would have been well

had we all entered and defended it, though we could not have held

out for long, through not being provisioned.

At last Captain Jaynes and the other gentlemen begun to conceive the

situation and I caught sight of them forcing their way toward me,

and shouted to them with a failing voice, for I had lost much blood,

to come nearer and assist me to hold the door. Then I saw Captain

Jaynes sink in his saddle, and I caught a glimpse of a mighty

retreat of plunging haunches of Parson Downs' horse, and indeed the

gist of the blame for it all was afterward put upon the parson's

great fiery horse, which it was claimed had run away with him first

into the fight, then away from it, such foolish reasons do men love

to give for the lapses of the clergy.

As for me, I believe in coming out with the truth about the clergy

and laymen, and King and peasant, alike, whether it be Cain or King

David, or Parson Downs or his Majesty King Charles the Second.

However, to do the parson justice, he did not fly until he saw the

day was lost, and I trow did afterward better service to me than he

might have done by staying. As for the burgesses, I know not whither

nor when they had gone, for they had melted away like shadows, by

reason of the great obloquy which would have attached to them,

should men in their high office have been discovered in such work.

Ralph Drake was left, who made a push toward me with a hoarse shout,

and then he fell, though not severely wounded, and then the soldiers

pressed closer. And then I felt again the door yield at my back, and

before I knew it I was dragged inside, and, in spite of the pressure

of the mob, the door was pushed to with incredible swiftness by

Humphrey Hyde's great strength, and the bolt shot.

There I lay on the floor of the hall well-nigh spent, and Mary

Cavendish was chafing my hands, bandaging my wounds with some linen

got, I knew not whence, and Catherine was there, and all the time

the great battering blows upon the door were kept up, and also on

the window-shutters, and the door began to shake.

Then I remembered something. There was behind the house a creek

which was dry in midsummer, but often, as now, in springtime,

swollen with rains, and of sufficient depth and force to float a

boat. And when it was possible it had been the custom to send stores

of tobacco for lading on shipboard to England, by this short cut of

the creek which discharged itself into the river below, and there

was for that purpose a great boat in the cellar, and also a door and

a little landing.

I, remembering this, whispered to Mary Cavendish with all the

strength which I could muster.

"For God's sake," I cried, "go you to the cellar, the boat, the

boat, the creek."

But Mary looked at me, and I can see her face now.

"Think you I did not know of that way?" she said, "and think you I

would leave you here to die? No, let them come in and do their

worst."

Then I turned to Catherine and pleaded with her as well as I could

with those thundering blows upon the door, and I well-nigh fainting

and my blood flowing fast, and she did not answer at all but looked

at me.

Then I turned to Sir Humphrey Hyde. "For God's sake, lad," I cried,

"if you love her, save her. Only a moment and they will be in here.

Hear the door tremble, and then 'twill be arrest and imprisonment,

and--I tell thee, lad, leave me, and save them."

"They can do as they choose," cried Mary. Then she turned to Sir

Humphrey. "Take Catherine, and she will show you the way out by the

creek," she said. "As for me, I remain here."

Catherine bent over me and tightened a bandage, but she did not

speak. Sir Humphrey looked at me palely and doubtfully.

"Harry," he said, "I can carry thee to the boat and we can all

escape in that way."

"Yes," I replied, "but if I escape through them, 'twill serve to

convict them, and--and--besides, lad, I cannot be moved for

the bleeding of my wounds, such a long way; and besides, it is at

the best arrest for me, since I have been seen by the whole posse

and have shot down Captain Waller. Whither could I fly, pray? Not

back to England. Me they will take in custody in any case, and they

will not shoot a wounded captive. My life is safe for the time

being. Humphrey--" With that I beckoned him to lean over me,

which he did, putting his ear close.

"Seize Mary by force and bear her away, lad," I whispered, "down

cellar to the boat. Catherine will show thee the way."

"I cannot, Harry," he whispered back, and as I live the tears were

in the boy's eyes. "I cannot leave thee, Harry."

"You must; there is no other way, if you would save her," I

whispered back. "And what good can you do by staying? The four of

us will be taken, for you can do nothing for me single-handed.

Captain Jaynes is killed--I saw him fall--and the parson has

fled, and--and--I know not where be the others. For God's

sake, lad, save her!"

Then Sir Humphrey with such a look at me as I never forgot, but have

always loved him for, with no more ado, turned upon Mary Cavendish,

and caught her, pinioning both arms, and lifted her as if she had

been an infant, and Catherine would have gone to her rescue, but I

caught at her hand, which was still at work on my bandage.

"Go you with them and show the way to the boat," I whispered. She

set her mouth hard and looked at me. "I will not leave thee," she

said.

"If you go not, then they will be lost," I cried out in desperation.

For Mary was shrieking that she would not go, and I knew that

Humphrey did not know the way, and could not find it and launch the

boat in time with that struggling maid to encumber him, for already

the door trembled as if to fall.

"I tell you they will not harm a wounded man," I cried. "If you

leave me I am in no more worse case than now, and if you remain,

think of your sister. You know what she hath done to abet the

rebellion. 'Twill all come out if she be found here. Oh, Catherine,

if you love her, I pray thee, go."

Then Catherine Cavendish did something which I did not understand at

the time, and perhaps never understood rightly. Close over me she

bent, and her soft hair fell over my face and hers, hiding them, and

she kissed me on my forehead, and she said low, but quite clearly,

"Whatever thou hast done in the past, my scorn henceforth shall be

for the deed, not for thee, for thou art a man."

Then to her feet she sprang and caught hold of Mary's struggling

right arm, though it might as well have struggled in a vise as in

Sir Humphrey Hyde's reluctant, but mighty grasp.

"Mary," she said, "listen to me. 'Tis the best way to save him, to

leave him."

Then Mary rolled her piteous blue eyes at her over Sir Humphrey's

shoulder from her gold tangle of hair.

"What mean you?" she cried. "I tell you, Catherine, I will never

leave him!"

"If we remain, we shall all be in custody," replied Catherine in her

clear voice, though her face was white as if she were dead, "and our

estates may be forfeited, and we have no power to help him. And he

must be taken in the end in any case. And if we be free, we can save

him."

"I will not go without him," cried Mary. "Set me down, Humphrey, and

take up Harry, and I will help thee carry him. Do as I tell thee,

Humphrey."

"Harry will be taken in any case," replied Catherine, "and if you

take him, you will be arrested with him, and then we can do nothing

for him. I tell thee, sweet, the only way to save him is to leave

him."

Then Mary gave one look at me.

"Harry, is this the truth they tell me?" she cried.

"As God is my witness, dear child," I replied. Then she twisted her

white face around toward Sir Humphrey's, who stood pinioning her

arms with a look himself as if he were dying.

"Let me loose, Humphrey," she said, "let me loose, then I swear I

will go with you and Catherine."

Then Sir Humphrey loosed her, and straight to me she came and bent

over me and kissed me. "Harry," she said in a whisper which was of

that strange quality that it seemed to be unable to be heard by any

in the whole world save us two, though it was clear enough--"I

leave thee because thou tellest me that this is the only way to save

thee, but I am thine for life and for death, and nothing shall ever

come forever between thee and me, not even thine own self, nor the

grave, nor all the wideness of life."

Then she rose and turned to Sir Humphrey and Catherine.

"I am ready," said she, and Sir Humphrey gave my hand one last

wring, and said that he would stand by me. Then they fled and, as I

lay there alone, I heard their footsteps on the cellar stairs, and

presently the dip of the boat as she was launched, and heard it

above all the din outside, so keen were my ears for aught that

concerned her.

Then that sound and all others grew dim, for I was near swooning,

and when the door fell with a mighty crash near me, it might have

been the fall of a rose leaf on velvet, and I had small heed of the

fierce faces which bent over me, yet the hands extended toward my

wounds were tender enough. And I saw as in a dream, Capt. Robert

Waller, with his arm tied up, and wondered dimly if we were both

dead, for I verily believed that I had killed him, and I heard him

say, and his voice sounded as if a sea rolled between us, "'Tis the

convict tutor, Wingfield, who held the door, and unless I be much

mistaken, he hath his death-wound. Make a litter and lift him

gently, and five of you search the house for whatever other rebels

be hid herein."

And as I live, in the midst of my faintness, which made all sounds

far away as from beyond the boundary of the flesh, and beyond the

din of battle, which was still going on, though feebly, like a fire

burning to its close, I heard the dip of oars on the creek, and knew

that Mary Cavendish was safe.

A litter they fashioned from a lid of a chest while the search was

going on, and I was lifted upon it with due regard to my wounds,

which I thought a generous thing of Captain Waller, inasmuch as his

own face was frowning with the pain of the wound which I had given

him, but he was a brave man, and a brave man is ever a generous foe.

But when I was on the litter, breathing hard, yet with some

consciousness, he bent close over me, and whispered "Sir, your

wounds are bound up with strips torn from a woman's linen. I have a

wife, and I know. Who was in hiding here, sir?"

My eyes flew wide open at that.

"No one," I gasped out. "No one as I live."

But he laughed, and bending still lower, whispered, "Have no fear as

to that, Master Wingfield. Convict or not, you are a brave man, and

that which you perchance gave your life to hide, shall be hidden for

all Robert Waller."

So saying he gave the order to carry me forth with as little jolting

as might be, and stationed himself at my side lest I come to harm

from some over-zealous soldier. But in truth the militia and the

officers in those days were apparently of somewhat uncertain

quantity as regarded their allegiance to the King or the Colony.

The sympathy of many of them was with the colonists who made a stand

against tyranny, and they were half-hearted, if whole-handed, for

the King.

Just before they bore me across the threshold of Laurel Creek, those

troopers who had been sent to search the house, clattered down the

stair and swore that not so much as a mouse was in hiding there,

then we all went forth.

Captain Waller, though walking somewhat weakly himself, kept close

to my side. And he did not mount horse until we were out in the

highway.

The grounds of Laurel Creek and the tobacco fields were a most

lamentable sight, though I seemed to see everything as through a

mist. Here and there one lay sprawled with limbs curled like a dead

spider, or else flung out at a stiff length of agony. And Capt. Noel

Jaynes lay dead with a better look on his gaunt old face in death

than in life. In truth Capt. Noel Jaynes might almost have been

taken for a good man as he lay there dead. And the outlaw who lived

next door to Margery Key was doubled up where he fell in a sulky

heap of death, and by his side wept his shrewish wife, shrilly

lamenting as if she were scolding rather than grieving, and I trow

in the midst of it all, the thought passed through my mind that it

was well for that man that he was past hearing, for it seemed as if

she took him to task for having died.

Of Dick Barry was no sign to be seen, but Nick lay not dead, but

dead drunk, and over him was crouched one of those black women with

a knife in her hand, and no one molested her, thinking him dead, but

dead he was not, only drunk, and she was wounded herself, with the

blood trickling from her head, unable to carry him from the field as

she had brought him.

They carried me past them, and the black woman's eyes rolled up at

us like a wild beast's in a jungle defending her mate, and I

remember thinking, though dimly, as a man will do when he has lost

much blood, that love was love, and perhaps showed forth the

brighter and whiter, the viler and blacker the heart which held it,

and then I knew no more for a space.