A FRUITLESS RESOLUTION
This scene with Miriam put me in a state of bad humor, for all there was
in it to make me glad. It is seldom that sweet recollections come
unmixed with sour, and then the sour bite into our thoughts and the
sweet are clean forgotten. I ought to have been happy over the dear
picture of my sister and her friend praying together, each in her own
faith, as Miriam said. But I could think only of my own loss in Ruth’s
death, and of what wicked ways I had fallen into without her to keep me
free of pitfalls. It was useless to argue with myself that I had been
driven against my will; that, through my late career, I had chosen what
seemed to be the right path, or, at least, the lesser of two evils. Such
meditations gave me no comfort.
Here I actually was in the household of the patroon, a spy not even
owning my name. My present safety was due mainly to Miriam’s
intercession on my behalf. She had denied that I was a spy and had
vouched for my honesty. This added new weight to my burden of remorse. I
tossed wakefully on my bed at night, wondering what would happen if she
knew the truth. How she would hate me and despise me when she found out
who I was. I was not only deceiving the patroon, acting a lie day by
day; I was also deceiving her, she who had been so kind to my sister,
and whose coveted belief in me had become more than I could contemplate.
So, when I rose in the morning after Meg’s death, I was full of a new
idea. Come what would of it, I should seek Lady Marmaduke that very day
and demand my release. I had gone to the manor-house at her instigation
and felt myself bound to her service; but I would soon end that. Just
how to accomplish the meeting had not occurred to me as yet, but I could
not fail to make a chance before the day was over.
For an hour in the morning I was busy in my mind going over the
situation and trying to read the signs of the times. I knew well enough
that Van Volkenberg’s expulsion from the council was not the end of his
account with the governor. It was but one successful blow from his enemy
and was sure to be returned. Theirs was a bitter struggle that I knew
would end only with the utter annihilation of one or the other of them.
Could Van Volkenberg possibly succeed? He was nearer to success than I
had any idea of at the time. There were many points in his favor.
Captain Kidd was about to arrive—in fact, he had arrived during the
night, but we did not know it then. His mission was now familiar to
everyone, and the fact that he would recruit his crew in New York was
also public. There were so many merchants in the city whose trade would
be hurt by the suppression of the buccaneers, that ill-feeling against
the Earl was running high. The patroon made the most of this, coaxing
here, explaining there, till all the discontented faction began to look
to him more than ever as their leader against the Earl.
Had the patroon been ready to strike his blow a few days earlier, I ween
he had overturned the city.
Bellamont, on the other hand, was likely to suffer from too much
security, or fancied security. He was an easy-going man most of the
time; one who prided himself on his knowledge of the character of men—a
knowledge which he really did not possess at all. Through me he had
detected the plotting of the patroon. Governor Bellamont thought that
the retirement of his enemy from the council in disgrace removed him
altogether from the sphere of troublesome elements that beset the King’s
processes in the province. There was one person, however, at his very
right hand who realized the danger. Hardly a day passed that Lady
Marmaduke did not warn the Earl, did not beseech him to use more care
and watchfulness.
“No, no,” Bellamont would answer in his easy-going way. “I have killed
him now. I’ll get the Assembly to reverse his grant and we shall hear no
more of him.”
But Lady Marmaduke knew better. If the Earl would not keep an eye on the
enemy she would. She had plotted without the Earl before, and was
willing to do so again. She had already communicated once or twice with
me. Through Annetje and Pierre, all the doings at the manor-house were
reported to her promptly. She was ever watchful and employed half a
dozen men to seek out bits of gossip and trace home the vague rumors
that were constantly gaining ground—rumors of some mysterious danger
that was about to overwhelm the city.
I, too, was on the alert. I had been deeply fired at the patroon’s part,
whatever it was, in the death of my sister. Lady Marmaduke had put her
own burning spirit into my blood that time she pleaded with me in her
own house, that time she thrust her finger into the candle and I smelled
the burning flesh. But Miriam had come between us and had dashed all our
plans. In her presence I could see nothing but my own shameless
duplicity and the effect it would have on her when she discovered my
dishonesty.
In the manor-house itself all was at sixes and sevens. Though the
patroon seemed much relieved over the death of Meg, I could plainly see
that something was on his mind. On the day we had ridden together about
his estate he had pointed to the ocean and said that the fortunes of the
Red Band lay in that direction. One of the recent rumors concerned the
coming of a French fleet. Could he be involved in that? I knew that
there had been mysterious comings and goings about the manor-house that
I had no share in. Were there other seamen to be met with at Wolfert
Webber’s tavern? Now that I look back upon these events, I wonder that I
did not see the danger that threatened us. But one who is in the midst
of things is ever blind.
Louis Van Ramm really held the key to everything, for he shared his
master’s most important secrets. It was not till later, however, that I
fully understood his character, or why he held back so long. He hated
his master and had hated him for years; but Louis had not the power of
action. Courage was not wanting in his makeup, but he lacked that power
of self-reliance that would enable him to take the initiative in
overthrowing the patroon. He knew that I was set on the ruin of Van
Volkenberg, and hoped to put the proper cards in my hand, thinking that
I would play them freely without let or hindrance.
Such was the confused state of affairs at the time I made my resolution
to go to Lady Marmaduke and assert my independence of her service. I
should have set off alone for the city that morning had not the patroon
sent for me to accompany him to Yorke about ten o’clock in the morning.
I said that Captain Kidd had arrived in the night, though we did not
know the fact when we set out. The wind was southerly that morning, and
we had not gone far, when it brought us the sound of a gun.
“Ha,” said the patroon. “Doubtless that is to welcome the Adventure.”
And sure enough it was. Kidd’s ship had been in the bay all night and,
as we soon found, was coming up to the town. It had been some hour
anchored when the patroon and I rode up to the Slip to look at it.
“A tidy ship,” said the patroon after examining it as thoroughly as he
could from the shore. “One that could sail far with a safe crew. New
York must furnish him good recruits, St. Vincent.” He laughed in a low,
satisfied way, as if at some joke of his own. “Ay, we must serve him
with a good crew.”
I had thought that he had ridden to the city on business, but such
seemed not to be the case. We set out on our return immediately. To be
sure, we did not go directly home, but rode about in a wandering way
from street to street, like strangers viewing the town for the first
time. All the while my master glanced from side to side, eyeing every
person who passed as if he were in search of someone. Suddenly I heard
an exclamation. Van Volkenberg drew in his horse just as a stranger
stepped out from the stream of passengers at the side of the street.
This person was dressed in ordinary clothes, but I knew from his walk
that he was a seaman.
“Well, William,” said the patroon, as soon as they had greeted each
other, which they did warmly, as if they were old friends long parted.
“How does New York look to you now?”
“Much as usual. But I see that the privy-council is changed a bit.”
“Ay, changed for the worst.” They both laughed good humoredly. “What
else do you notice?”
“Your French County seems to be on the warpath again.”
“Yes, there are rumors to that effect; but I put no faith in them.
Still, everyone believes them here. It would be a good thing for the
governor to garrison Fort Orange, if only to allay public excitement. It
would be easier to stop him at Albany than at any other place.”
At that moment one of Van Volkenberg’s clerks came up and put a paper
into his master’s hand.
“I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Yes,” answered the patroon. “This needs my attention.” Then, turning to
the stranger, he continued: “I must back to the warehouse, William.
Remember our appointment; midnight on the river.”
We rode off directly to the patroon’s warehouse on the Slip. Before we
had gone far the patroon put the letter into my hand. It was but a line
and signed by one of the confidential clerks. It read:
“Lady Marmaduke is about to appeal to the Assembly to stop the troops.”
“It is Greek to me,” I answered. “What does it mean?”
“You suggested it yourself. Bellamont has decided to fortify Albany, and
is going to send off three of the city companies to-morrow or next day.”
“What has Lady Marmaduke to do with it? Why does she want the troops
stopped?”
“Have you not heard the rumors? Some people here in the city believe
that there is danger from a French fleet. They have not forgotten how
helpless Stuyvesant was in '64. I tell you, St. Vincent, there is no
danger from the sea. Frontenac is the man to fear. I would wager my
estate he is coming through the wilderness, and has set these notions in
the air himself to keep attention off from Albany. He is a shrewd old
fox, and if the troops are stopped we shall get a message down the river
soon: likely as not the county’s greeting and news that Fort Orange is
taken.”
“If all this is true why should Lady Marmaduke oppose it?”
“Because she is a fool. She believes the gossip of the street. She has
already tried to convince the Earl. But he has more sense. I hate him,
but, I declare, he demands respect in this.”
We had reached the patroon’s door by this time, and the clerk who had
signed the note came out to meet him.
“When does the Assembly adjourn?” asked the patroon aloud, after a short
whispered consultation.
“They have moved to adjourn for a week at noon to-day.”
“Can Lady Marmaduke sway them to her wishes?”
“There is little doubt of it.”
“Then she must be kept away. St. Vincent, ride to Marmaduke Hall. Keep
the mistress in conversation for an hour and a half. Ask her what became
of Le Bourse. Tell her I shall oust her from her estate, break her
title, anything you please. Stay there till noon and occupy her time.
She must not stop the troops. Go; instantly!”
There was no resisting the patroon’s haste. In the next breath I was
galloping at breakneck speed to my lady’s house. What a coincidence! All
the forenoon I had been racking my brain to find a way to meet her and
withdraw from my task of spy. Now the chance was made. It filled my
mind. Before I turned the first corner the Earl, the troops, and Albany
were quite forgotten. I could think only of the stormy meeting before me
and how I had best carry it through.
I banged the brass knocker with a will, and was shown into the receiving
room. The name I sent to the mistress was Henrie St. Vincent, of the
Hanging Rock. She knew it and came in a trice.
“What news do you bring?” she cried, sweeping into the room like a blast
of wind. “How do you come so openly, Le Bourse?”
“St. Vincent.”
“Tush! There is no one to hear. What is your news. What have you
learned?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Then why do you come here?”
“I am tired of my work. I want to give it up.”
“Give up? You coward!”
“I knew you would say that.”
“Then you deserve it.”
“I do not.”
“Explain yourself.”
I told her briefly the confidence that the patroon had placed in me and
the way the deception gnawed my conscience. I did not move her in the
least. Her lips curled in scorn and she gripped her hands together till
they were all mottled red and white with the pressure.
“Sit down,” she said in a tone so cold and biting that it made me
shiver. “If you are going to leave my service I shall dismiss you like a
man.”
She strode haughtily across the room and poured out two glasses of wine.
She came back and handed one of them to me.
“My dear Michael,” she began. “I am a stormy woman. I repent of what I
said to you. Here we part. Rise and lift your glass. We shall drink a
toast before you go.”
I stood up. This was easier than I had expected. I had counted on more
of a scene and could almost smile at the ease of my achievement.
“You do me honor, Lady Marmaduke. I hardly hoped that you would
sympathize with my conscience. Propose your toast.”
“Can you guess who it is?”
“The Earl?”
“No.”
I laughed. “Our friend, the patroon?”
“The patroon of Hanging Rock? Yes, but by a different title. Drink,
Michael. Long life and happiness to the seducer of your sister.”
“My God!” I cried, dashing glass and all upon the floor. “What do you
mean?”
“You know well enough. I told you long ago that he visited her room that
night she died. We of the aristocracy here think little of our
bond-slaves. They are mere chattels to our lust. Why should they not
minister to our pleasure. Why should not Ruth—”
“Stop! You are baiting me. You do not know this. Louis said that she was
murdered, but not that she was—”
“You know that? You will not strike her murderer? You craven coward! And
I know why you halt. You love the Catholic woman.”
“What if I do? She loved my sister.”
“Ah, she loved your sister and you love her; he killed your sister and
you love him.”
“What can I do? He is her father.”
“Do you remember a masterless man who once came into this very room to
smell the smell of burning flesh?”
“Don’t, don’t.”
“Why don’t? What do you care now? Your sister’s agony, the tortured
flesh quivering under the iron’s heat—why, man, you should thank God for
that. How else would you have gone to the house at Hanging Rock? How
else would you have met your wonderful, adorable, queen of your heart,
the Catholic Miriam? How Ruth loved Catholics! Get down on your knees,
man. Your sister’s martyrdom has brought you a love. It brings you a
home, position, with the name of coward and of traitor to my trust.
Thank God, I say; thank God.”
“You are unjust, Lady Marmaduke. You do not understand me.”
“My dearest Michael, I understand you perfectly. It was in the beginning
that I made the mistake. I took you for a man. I supposed flesh and
blood could not forget the debt you owe the patroon. But ’twas a small
debt after all. What is a sister ruined and murdered to a father-in-law
who ruined her? Ha, ha, ha, Michael; do you think I misunderstand you
now?”
This was hard treatment and it took my resolution as the summer dries a
stream. I could stand ridicule—though that hurt me more than most
things—but the worst was that the picture she drew was true. I had never
admitted to myself that I felt more than mere respect for Miriam. At
that moment I believe I hated her.
“I took you in,” continued my tormenter. “Now you may go. Perhaps he
will murder you.” How this struck home in the light of what he had
already done. “Perhaps he will give you his daughter in marriage.”
“I don’t want his daughter.”
“Hoity toity, child. Don’t break your china doll now it is in your
hands. What will you have in exchange for your peerless sister?”
“I want revenge.”
“And refuse to take it! Bah, you talk like a fool.”
“I have talked like a fool. But now I swear to hound this hell-cat to
his death.”
“And Miriam?”
“As we sow, so must we reap. Let us spare her if we can, but—”
“Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, my Michael. I come not to bring
peace into the world, but a sword. This is the word of God, my child.”
She had slipped her arm about me and was talking in the gentler manner
in which she had comforted me the time I first learned the news of my
sister’s fate.
Half an hour later I left the hall, sullen, resolved and conquered. Yes;
once more the strength of her spirit had proved greater than the
strength of mine. I must see more and be tried again before the final
break should come. And when it came, like a flash, like a thief in the
night, some who were upon the housetop came not down, but were taken in
their sins. And others like myself were spared to learn the glory of God
through goodness and mercy in return for sin and evil.