"Lo! now in yonder deep and gloomy cave
Th' unholy hags their spells of mischief weave--
Raise the infernal chant; while at the sound
Dread Spirits seem to dance the caldron round,
And fiends of awful shape from earth and hell
With direful portents aid the magic spell."
C. DONALD McLEOD.
When Robert Lester, now Kyd the pirate, left the presence of Kate
Bellamont, without seeking the stone steps that descended to the lawn,
he leaped from the low balcony to the ground, and strode, at a pace made
quick and firm by the strength of his feelings, towards a gate that
opened into the lane in which the inn of Jost Stoll was situated.
Avoiding the narrow street, though it was silent and deserted, he turned
his footsteps aside towards the beach, and, winding round a ledge of
rocks wildly piled together, with a few shrubs and a dwarf cedar or two
clinging in the clefts, he came to the mouth of the canal, where his
boat lay half hidden in the shadow of a huge overhanging rock.
"Who comes," challenged one of several men that were standing around.
He was too much wrapped in his own dark thoughts to hear or give reply,
and was only roused to a consciousness of his position by the cocking of
pistols and the repetition of the challenge in a sharper tone.
"The Silver Arrow!" he answered, briefly.
"The captain! Advance!" was the reply.
"Ho, Lawrence, you are alert. Yet it should be so, for we are surrounded
by enemies. You must learn, nevertheless, to challenge lower under the
guns of a fort. By the moving of lights and show of bustle on the
ramparts, we have already drawn the attention of the honest Dutch
warriors whom our English governors have seen fit to retain to man their
works."
"It's to save linstocks, by making them touch off the pieces with their
pipes," said Lawrence; "their powder always smells more of tobacco than
sulphur."
"A truce to this. Man your oars and put off," said Kyd, in a stern tone.
The men knew by the change in his voice that their chief was in a humour
that was not to be disregarded; and scarcely had the orders passed from
his lips, before every man was in his seat, with his oars elevated in
the air. The coxswain, Lawrence, at the same time took his place at the
helm, and in a low tone said,
"All's ready."
"Shove off and let fall," cried Kyd, in the same suppressed tone,
springing into the stern-sheets.
"What course, captain?"
"Hell Gate," was the deep response, as he seated himself in the stern
and wrapped his cloak about him.
"Give way, lads," followed this information, from the coxswain, and
swiftly the barge shot out from the mouth of the canal; doubling the
south point of the town, it moved rapidly up the narrow sound between
Long and Manhattan Islands, now called East River, and was soon lost in
the gloom.
When Kyd parted from Elpsy before the inn, she had remained standing in
the place in which he had left her until his form was lost beneath the
trees surrounding the White Hall; then, turning towards the street that
led by a devious route in the direction of the north gate of the city,
she walked a few moments rapidly along in the deep shade cast by the
far-projecting roofs of the low Dutch mansions. Suddenly she stopped.
"He may have a faint heart," she muttered, as if her thoughts run upon
the interview between the pirate and noble maiden. "She will not now
accept him as Lester after I have told her who Lester has become. Oh, I
did it to make him use force in his wooing. I would not have him, after
all that has passed in the last five years, win her with honour to
herself. I would have her humbled. I would have her become Lady Lester
against her own will. And if he has remaining in his memory a tithe of
her former scorn of him, he will love to repay her thus. Yet I doubt. I
will go back and see that I am not thwarted. Never shall I rest, in
grave or out, till he is Lord of Lester, and Kate Bellamont his wedded
wife."
She turned as she spoke, and, retracing her steps towards the inn,
continued on past it towards the wicket that opened into the park, and,
gliding beneath the trees, stole towards the window of the maiden's
chamber, directed by the light that shone through the foliage that
climbed about it. Aided by her white staff, she was cautiously ascending
a flight of steps that connected the extremity of the balcony with the
lawn, when she heard Kyd's angry words at parting, saw him rush forth,
leap to the ground, and take his swift way towards his boat. Her first
impulse was to call him back; but, suppressing it, she softly approached
the window for the purpose of using her own fearful power over the minds
of all with whom she came in contact, in giving a turn more favourable
to her design to the alarmed maiden's mind. She was arrested by the
entrance of the priest as she was in the act of entering the chamber,
and drew instantly back into the shadow. But she gradually moved forward
into the light of the lamp, and, as her eyes rested on his features,
they grew bloodshotten with the intensity of her gaze. Her face was
thrust forward almost into the room, her long scragged neck was
stretched to its full length, and her whole person advanced with the
utmost eagerness. It could not have been the words of the priest or his
manner that caused an excitement so sudden and extraordinary. She
evidently discovered in him a resemblance that surprised her, while it
filled her soul with a savage and vengeful joy.
"It is he!" she gasped. "Ever before have I met him cowled! He, he
alone! I would know him in hell! Ha, I have lived for something! Oh,
this knowledge is worth to me mines of gold! I would have sold my soul
for it! The same brow, still almost as fair; the same mouth, the same
rich light in the eyes, and, save his beard, almost as young as when
last we met. Ha! 'tis he. We have met to some purpose now. Ho, ho! am I
not getting work to do? This is a new matter on my hands. I will plot
upon it. Ha, dares he? The hoary lecher! Nay, she has flung him back!
'Tis a proper maiden!" she added, as she saw the priest foiled in his
attempt to sully the purity of the noble girl's lips.
Thus run the current of the weird woman's thoughts. With fierce
resentment, she listened to the interview between the confessor and his
penitent; and when a second time she saw him approach her with
unhallowed lip, she sprung upon him: but whether to save the honour of
the maiden's cheek, or prompted by some feminine feeling known only to
herself, will, if it is not already so, doubtless by-and-by be apparent.
After she had quitted the chamber she swiftly crossed the lawn towards
the inn, turned up the narrow path that bordered the sluggish canal,
and, following it to its termination near the wall, turned short round
some low stone warehouses to the left, and ascended a narrow, steep
street that run along close to the wall, and therefore had obtained the
distinctive appellation of Wall-street. Getting close within its deep
shadow, she glided along stealthily till she came to a double gate, over
which hung a small lamp. Beneath the light, leaning against a guardhouse
constructed on one side of the gate, she discovered a man with a
firelock to his shoulder and a long pipe in his mouth. A few paces from
him walked to and fro a second guard, who from time to time paused in
his walk, and, in a listening attitude, looked down the broad, open
street that led from the gate to the Rondeel, as if expecting the
approach of some one.
"Sacrement Donner vetter! 'Tish aight ov de klock, Hanse," he said,
stopping and addressing his comrade as Elpsy approached; "te relief
shall 'ave peen here py dish time, heh?"
"It vill pe te Schietam at frau Stoll's vat keeps dem," replied the
other, with a grunt of assent.
"Hark, Hanse! dere ish von footshteps along te vall--no heh?"
"Tish te pigs and te cattlesh. An' if it vas de peoplesh, vat matter so
dey pe inside ov te valls? It ish against te rogue from te outside ov te
vall vot ve keep te guart here for."
"Goot, Hanse. Ve lets nopoty in, to pe shure--nor lets nopoty out
neider, heh? Pots gevitter! Vot vas te passvoord, Hanse? I vas licht
mein bipe mid te paper te captain left mid us."
"Yorck."
"Yorck. Petween ourshelves, Hanse, Ich don't like dis new name ov our
old city ov Nieuve Amstertam. Dese Anclish names pe hart to shpeak.
'Twas a wrong ding, Hanse, to put away te olt name, heh?"
"It vash, mein comrate, no vera koot."
"Pfui Teufel! Ich am klad I vas shmoke it in mein bipe. It vas
batriotic, heh, Hanse? Let ush av te olt name pack again, Hanse."
"Vera koot, mein comrate, Ich vill."
"Ich too. Now if the peoplesh shay Yorck, tey shall pe put in de
guarthouse for traitor. If tey shay Nieuve Amstertam, den tey pe
Kristian peoplesh and honest men."
"If she pe a voman, comrate?"
"Den she shall pe von honest voman, to pe shure."
At this juncture of the embryo conspiracy, hatching in his very
stronghold and among his tried warriors, against the Earl of Bellamont's
government, striking at its very roots, and teeming with seeds of a
civil war, a low, dark figure appeared from behind the guardhouse and
suddenly confronted them.
"Himmel tausand! Te vitch--te tyfil!" they both exclaimed in one breath
as she stood before them, plainly visible by the light of the lamp that
illuminated her wild features, and threw into strong contrasts of light
and shadow the prominent angles of her hideous person.
"Let me forth," she said, in a commanding tone, laying her hand with a
determined gesture on the heavy bar that was placed against the gates.
The men drew back in alarm, and uttered exorcisms expressive of
superstitious fear.
"Will ye not unbar? Brave men are ye to keep watch and guard over a
city's gates. Unbolt!"
"Vat, Hanse, heh?" asked one of the men of his comrade, whose arm he had
grasped; "sall ve lets her go?"
"It vill pe pest to hav her on te outside, comrate."
"So it vill pe, Hanse. Ve had petter let her out. I vill see if she
knows te voord. Vitch vomans, vat ish te password, heh?"
"I give neither password nor countersign. I go and come as I list, and
no man can hinder me. Stand aside."
As she spoke she placed her hands on the heavy bar, lifted it from its
bed, and threw it at their feet. Then, turning the massive key that
remained in the lock, the wide leaves flew open.
"Ve must not let it pe, Hanse, mitout te voord."
"Nor mitout leave, neider, comrate," cried one after the other, both
being inspired with sudden energy.
"Ve shall pe shot."
"Ant hung too."
With one impulse they rushed forward to secure the gate, when she closed
it fast in their faces, and they heard the key turn in the lock on the
outside with a scornful laugh.
"Himmel! It ish lockt insite ve pe, Hanse, heh?"
"Ant she tid not shay Yorck, comrate."
"Nor Nieuve Amstertam neider. If she vas say only Nieuve Amstertam now."
"Tere ish no more need to keep guart, comrate. Nopody can get in."
"Tunder! no more dey can, Hanse, heh? 'Tish after aight o'klock, and te
relief ish not been come. Dere ish no more use to keep guart, Hanse,
heh?"
"Tyfil, no. Ve vill go ant get some Schietams."
"So ve vill, Hanse, ant a fresh bipe too."
Thus determining, the stalwort guard of the city gates of ancient
Amsterdam shouldered their firelocks, and, confident in the security of
the city, descended the street together in the direction of the alehouse
of _frau_ Jost Stoll, while Elpsy kept on her course through the
suburbs. Directly after leaving the gate she turned from the road which,
bordered by forests, small farms, and here and there a lonely dwelling,
run from the gates in a northerly direction. The path she took was a
green lane, famous for lover's rambles, that led towards the East River.
She traversed it at a swift running pace, now winding round some vast
tree that grew in its centre, now ascending, now descending, as the path
accommodated itself to the irregularities of the ground. In a few
minutes she came to a romantic spring, open to the sky for many yards
around, with greenest verdure covering the earth. She recognised it as a
favourite resort for the industrious maidens of the town, who there were
accustomed to bleach the linen they wove--and skilful weavers too were
the rosy and merry Dutch maidens of that homely day! At evening they
would go out to gather their bleaching; and, ere they left the spring on
their return, the youths of the town would make their appearance, and,
each singling out his sweetheart, take her burden under one arm, while,
with the blushing girl hanging on the other, slowly they walked through
the shady lane towards the town. Happy times! Gentle customs!
Unsophisticated age! Oh, Maiden-lane, busy, shopping Maiden-lane! thy
days of romance are passed! Who can identify thee with this green lane!
But this is no place to eulogize thee; yet who may travel over the
olden-time scenes of New Amsterdam, and not pause to pay them the
tribute of a thought!
After leaving the spring, her way faintly lighted by the stars, the
sorceress struck into a path that led northeasterly; and, after a rapid
walk of nearly a mile, came to the shore of East River at a point that
could not have been reached by water without going over nearly twice the
distance she had come by the forest. Descending the steep shore, she
stopped at the head of a small creek that made a few yards into the
land, and drew from beneath the shelter of a thickly-netted grapevine a
light Indian birch canoe of the frailest structure. Stepping lightly
into it, giving her weight accurately to the centre, she seated herself
on the crossbar that constituted both the seat and strengthening brace
of the bark: striking the water lightly with a slender paddle, she shot
rapidly out of the creek. The moon had just risen, and flecked a
trembling path of silvery light along the water. Plying the magic
instrument, first on one side and then on the other alternately, she
darted along the surface of the water with inconceivable velocity. Her
course was northwardly in a line with the shore, close to which she
kept. Every few minutes she would cease her toil and bend her ear close
to the water, listening for sounds; and then, with a smile of
gratification, renew her swift course. At length, as she rounded an
elevated point, the distant fall of oars reached her ears in the
direction of the town.
"He comes! He has gained on me! I must be there to prepare for him! Hey,
my little bark, let us fly now!"
She stood up in the skiff as she spoke, the moonlight streaming on her
dark face, flung her cloak from her shoulders, and, tossing back her
long red hair, seized the paddle with a firmer grasp, and away like a
mad thing flew witch and boat. Soon she turned a headland, and the waves
began to be violently agitated, tossing and bubbling round her, while a
roar of breaking surges was heard in the direction towards which she was
driving. Far and wide the solemn moan of agitated waters filled the air.
She shouted with the dash of the waves, and hissed as they bubbled and
foamed in her track. Momently the commotion grew wilder and more
appalling. The waters seethed like a boiling caldron. Whirlpools turned
her skiff round and round like a feather, and yawning gulfs threatened
each moment to ingulf her. Yet on she flew, standing upright in the
boat, her hair streaming in the wind, her garments flying, and sending
the boat irresistibly through the terrible commotion. The passage now
became narrow, and on every side frowned black rocks, threatening
destruction to the bark that should be dashed against their sides.
Suddenly, when it appeared the boat could not survive an instant longer,
by a dexterous application of her paddle she forced it from the boiling
seas into a placid pool, sheltered by a low ledge, that formed the
southern spur of a small islet a few rods square that stood at the mouth
of "Hell Gate" on the north side.
"Ha, is it not a proper place for a witch, amid the mad waves and gloomy
rocks! Oh, 'tis a home I love! The noise of the water is merry music!
when it is lashed by a storm, the birds go sweeping and shrieking by
like mad, and then it is music sweeter than the harp to Elpsy. So, I
have well done my errand, and found him as he landed, and he is now on
his way to me. And _who_ besides Robert, have I seen? Ah--have I not
made a good night's work of it! Well, it shall go ill with me if I reap
not the fruit of what I have learned. Ho, Cusha, slave!"
As she called thus in a harsh, stern tone, she drove her skiff into a
crevice in the rocks, where it became firmly fixed, and, stepping from
it, she bounded lightly up the precipitous shore to the summit. The top
of the rock, which was but a few feet from the water, so far as could be
seen by the light of the moon, was a grassy surface, dotted with a few
stunted trees and one large oak, that with its broad arms nearly
shadowed the entire islet. Between the columns of the trees all around
the sky and water were visible. But in one place it was broken by the
outline of a large rock and the roof of a low hut placed against it,
directly beneath the oak. It was a rude, rough structure, wild and
desolate in its appearance. On one side it over-hung the foaming waters,
that leaped so high beneath it as to fling the spray upon its roof. In
every part of it were crevices, from which, as the sorceress looked
towards it on arriving on a level with it, streamed rays of light as if
from a bright flame within; while a volume of thick, dark smoke, of an
exceedingly fetid and sulphurous smell, curled upward against the sides
of the rock, and rolled heavily away among the foliage of the oak.
"The slave is prepared," she said, approaching the hut.
She had taken but a single step towards it when the deep voice of a
bloodhound from within broke the silence that reigned.
"The hound is alert! Ho, Sceva!"
At the sound of her voice the alarm bark of the dog was changed into a
cry of delight; and, springing against the door, he would have burst it
through had she not spoken, and, at the same time, opened it. Instantly
the animal sprung upon her and licked her face with his huge tongue, and
growled a savage sound of welcome. He was a brute of vast size, and
with long, coarse gray hair, stiff, uncouth ears, and immense head;
around which, and along his spine to his fore shoulders, the hair grew
long and bristly like a boar's mane. His eyes were red and fierce in
their expression; and huge tusks, protruding glaringly over either side
of his hanging chops, gave him an aspect still more repulsive and
savage.
"Down, Sceva, down!" she said, sternly, as he caught his huge paws in
the tangled masses of her hair in his rough caresses; "down, I say!" The
animal slunk from her and crouched upon a pile of fern in a corner of
the hut.
The abode of the sorceress was rude and wild in the extreme. It was a
slight frame of branchless firs, constructed against a bare rock, which
constituted the east side, or wall of it. The interstices between the
upright stakes were filled in with loose limbs of trees, and planks from
wrecked fisher's boats; the roof in many places was open to the sky, and
in its centre was a large aperture that served for an outlet to the
smoke that rose from a fire smouldering beneath a caldron placed
underneath. By the fitful glare it sent round, the interior of the hut,
with its furniture, was distinctly visible. Entwined about an upright
pole that sustained the roof were dead serpents of enormous size, and of
brilliant colours, their glittering fangs hideously shining in the
firelight. Festoons of toads, lizards, and other revolting reptiles hung
from the ceiling, while round the wall were placed human bones arranged
in fantastic figures, and ghastly sculls glared on the sight on every
side, while all that could affect the imagination was conspicuous to the
eyes of the observer. In the caldron in the centre of the hut was
seething a dark liquid that emitted a fetid odour, and threw up volumes
of smoke, which, unable to escape freely through the roof, hung heavily
to within a few feet of the ground floor. Over the caldron bent the
figure of an African, who was stirring the liquid with a human thigh
bone, and occasionally, with a child's scull, dipping a portion from it
and pouring it on the fire beneath, which instantly flamed up fiercely,
casting a blue, baleful light throughout the hut. The firelight shone
bright upon his person, bringing into relief every feature of his
hideous countenance. His head was of huge proportions, and deformed,
being perfectly flat on the top, and obtruding in front into a round
forehead like an infant's newly born. It was, save a thick fringe of
hair that hung shaggy and grisly above his eyes, wholly bald. His eyes
were large, and projected red and wild from their beds, while his nose
and lips were of enormous dimensions, which, with the total absence of
anything like a chin, gave the lower part of his face a brutelike look.
Yet there was an extraordinary human intelligence in the expression of
his eye, in which dwelt the light of no common intellect.
He rose as the witch entered, and displayed a skeleton-like figure of
great height, the low roof compelling him to bend half his length. His
neck was long and scraggy; his shoulders bony; his arms and legs lank
and attenuated; while his fingers, with the hard skin that clave to them
and their long oval nails, resembled, as he himself did altogether, save
his huge fleshy head, a dried anatomical preparation. A kilt reaching
half way to his knees, and a sort of cape covering his shoulders made of
the feathers of owls intermingled with the brilliant dies of snakes'
skins, were his only clothing. He wore about his neck as ornaments a
string of newts' eyes and serpents' fangs, and on his wrists and ankles
were massive bracelets of silver.
"Thy slave welcomes thee," he said, in a voice that corresponded with
the hideousness of his appearance.
He lifted his hands to his forehead as he spoke, and made an oriental
obeisance nearly to the earth.
"Thou hast obeyed me, Cusha! 'Tis well! See that all be ready for the
rites. He comes a second time to secure our aid against the rock and the
shoal, the waves and the wind, the hand of man and the bolt of Heaven!"
"Comes he in the right spirit?"
"He fears and obeys."
"'Tis enough."
"Let nothing be wanting to retain our power over the minds of mortals;
let our art lose no tithe of its honour. I will now make ready to
receive him. He leaves me not till he has done my bidding, and through
him my ends are answered. Now let us prepare the rites!"
In the mean while the superstitious victim of the unholy rites in
preparation was on his way towards the "Witch's Isle." For nearly an
hour the crew had pulled steadily along, and, save now and then a
cheering cry from the coxswain, urging them to renewed exertion, not a
word was spoken. Silent and thoughtful, revenge and disappointed love
mingled with shame the while agitating his breast, he sat by himself in
the stern of his boat, and took a retrospect of his past life.
His sense of honour was now blunted, and the experience of a reckless
life had made him weigh less nicely his acts, and pay less deference to
the opinions of men. He now laughed at and cursed what he called his
folly in sacrificing, for a mere boyish notion of honour, his earldom.
From the time he had thrown himself on board the Dane at the tower of
Hurtel of the Red Hand, up to the moment that found him on his way to
the abode of the sorceress, he had been scouring the seas, a bold,
reckless, and sanguinary bucanier. Under the name of 'the Kyd,' or AL
KYD, the sea-king--which had been given him by the Algerine corsairs,
among whom he spread terror whenever he cruised up the Mediterranean--he
had filled the world with tales of bloodshed and predatory conflict
unparalleled in the annals of piracy. He seemed, from the first moment
he placed his feet on the deck of the Dane, to have made a shipwreck of
principle; to have buried, as he had said on taking leave of Lady
Lester, all human feeling with the filial kiss he placed on her
unconscious forehead. Yet it has been seen, in his fight with the yacht
which contained the Earl of Bellamont and Grace Fitzgerald, that he had
not wholly lost sight of every social tie that bound him to those with
whom he had once associated. But this was the last instance of his
sympathy with others. Henceforward he seemed to war with mankind as if
he would avenge on his species the wrongs of his birth. The instance
here given may be thought an exaggerated estimate of the rapid growth of
vice. But the daily annals of crime show that it is but a step from
virtue to vice, from innocence to crime. And, let the cause be strong
enough, there is never an intermediate step.
Had Lester altogether forgotten Kate Bellamont while running this
career? No. His thoughts reverted to her daily. Sometimes with the
gentle character of his former young love, but oftener taking colour
from his present altered character, and then they were resentful. Twice
he had resolved to visit Castle Cor, and obtain an interview with her,
and, if not by fair, by foul means, make her his bride. But he had been
pursued and driven from the coast by cruisers, and his intentions had
been foiled. That he loved her still was evident; and if he could have
been rewarded with her hand by doing so, he would have deserted his
present career for her sake. But these hopes were dissipated from the
fear that she might have discovered that Kyd and he were one. This
suspicion did at times alone prevent his seeking her out more resolutely
and casting himself at her feet.
At length, a few months previous to the arrival of Lord Bellamont to
assume the government of New-York, he, with large treasures, came into
Long Island Sound; and, after burying them on Gardiner's Island, beneath
a certain triangular rock which, it is said, seventy of his men rolled
upon the spot, he came through Hell Gate into East River, where he
anchored. As he sailed past her rock the witch recognised him, though
she had not seen him since they separated at Hurtel's Tower, and at
midnight paid him a visit in her skiff. She recovered her former
influence over him, crime, as it ever does, having made him
superstitious. From her he learned that the Earl of Bellamont was to
succeed Governor Fletcher, and that his daughter would probably
accompany him to America. Probing his feelings in relation to her, she
discovered that he was still attached to her; and to her joy she found,
on feeling his moral pulse, that she had less to fear than on a former
occasion. From the moment Lester had cast away his title and fled the
country, she had given her whole mind to one single object, if she
should ever again meet him: viz., to bring about his restoration to his
title and estates. She rightly calculated that time and the lawless
school in which he had placed himself would lead to a revolution in his
feelings. She now found him ripe for her purpose. Learning from him that
he was bound on a cruise to intercept a fleet from Barbadoes, and was
to sail the following day, by his return she expected, as it turned out,
that the Earl of Bellamont would have reached his new government.
Therefore, before she left his cabin, she drew from him a promise that
he would visit her at her hut the ensuing night; and there, amid the
solemnities of her art, take the oath to lay claim to the title of
Lester, and woo for the hand of the heiress of Bellamont: in fine,
resume the position, notwithstanding all that had passed in the long
interim, that he had held before the fatal field of archery at Castle
Cor. Ere the next night, however, two frigates from Newport, learning
his presence in the waters of Long Island, appeared in sight sailing up
the Sound, when, weighing anchor, he sailed down the East River, passed
boldly between Brooklyn and the town, exchanged shots with the Rondeel,
and, steering down the bay, put to sea. His second appearance, and the
events that followed it up to the time when he is approaching the
Witch's Island, have already been narrated.
"Give way, men--pull for your lives!" shouted the coxswain, as at length
they entered the boiling waters of Hell Gate.
With great exertion and skill, the tide now setting strongly through the
gut, they avoided the dangers that beset them on every side, and at
length reached the island. Giving orders for his men to remain in the
boat and preserve silence, Kyd stepped on shore in a secluded cove at
the western extremity of the island most remote from the abode of the
sorceress. He passed through a dark ravine, that led with many a rugged
step to the top, and, looking round as he reached it, at length
discovered the hut he sought. It was calculated, combined with the roar
of the sea and the lateness of the hour, and a knowledge of the fearful
character of the occupant and of his own evil purposes in seeking it, to
affect his mind with gloom and superstitious fears. He cautiously, and
not without superstitious awe, approached the door and struck it with
the hilt of his sword.
He was answered by the deep growl of the bloodhound, and the moment
afterward the sorceress chanted, in a wild, supernatural strain, an
Irish weird hymn, the only part of which he could comprehend were the
last two lines:
"Enter, mortal, if thou bear
Priest nor Bible, cross nor prayer!"
With his drawn sword held firmly in his grasp, he opened the door.
Instantly the place was filled with a blue flame, by the light of which
the various supernatural paraphernalia of the sorceress's abode were
made visible with the most appalling distinctness, while sounds infernal
and terrific assailed his ears. He stood a moment filled with alarm, and
overpowered by what he saw and heard. The sorceress, clothed in a
garment apparently of flame, covered with strange and unearthly figures,
her features wrought up to a supernatural degree of excitement and wild
enthusiasm, stood before the caldron in a commanding attitude, her hair
dishevelled, her long white wand held towards the intruder, and every
sinew of her arms and neck distinctly brought into light. A serpent was
bound about her temples, and one was entwined around each of her naked
arms, while a fourth encircled her waist. Beside her stood a spindle,
with a crimson thread upon it. She fixed her eyes on his with an
unearthly expression as she extended her wand towards him, and, in a
voice that became a priestess of rites so unholy as she performed,
addressed him:
"Welcome, mortal! I have waited for thee. Kneel."
"Wherefore?" he asked, as if addressing a supernatural being, his
imagination affected by the circumstances and situation in which he was
placed, and scarcely recognising, in the fearful appearance and aspect
of the sorceress, her whom he had seen and conversed with but a few
hours before. "Wherefore should I kneel?"
"To swear."
"The oath?"
"To assume the title of Lester and wed the heiress of Bellamont."
"I have sworn it without thy aid. I have seen her."
"And she has scorned thee."
"She has. Foul witch, thou didst betray me to her!"
"Ha, ha! Thou hast learned this of her." She laughed maliciously. "I
told her who thou wert, that she might scorn thee."
"Fiends! Dost thou not wish me to marry her?"
"Yes; but only against her will."
"Otherwise she will never. And, by the cross! I will not bear the
haughty scorn with which she has received me. Witch, I am ready to take
the oath; but, if I take it, thou shalt give me thy aid in avenging
myself.
"On her!"
"Yes, but through her lover."
"Has she a lover?" asked the sorceress, with surprise.
"Did not thy art teach thee this?"
"Who?" she demanded, without replying to his question.
"A certain Captain Fitzroy."
"He who commanded the ship that brought them hither. Where were my wits
I did not suspect as much?" she added to herself.
"Dost know him?"
"I have seen him on his deck as I passed in my skiff. He sailed
instantly in pursuit of you, or I should have discovered something of
this new love. She confessed it?"
"Without hesitation. I have sworn to seek him and cross blades with
him."
"First repeat the oath thou hast come hither to take."
"If thou wilt exert all thy skill and art to give me success in my
revenge, I will take it."
"Swear."
"Nay. I am told thou hast, as do all of thy unholy craft, an amulet
which, worn on the bosom, will give him who for the time wears it a
charmed life, and cause him to prosper in all that he undertakes. This
amulet I ask of thee."
"First lay thy right hand upon the head of the serpent that binds my
waist, and thy left hand upon thy heart, and, kneeling, swear to obey me
in resuming thy earldom and thy wooing of Catharine of Bellamont, and it
shall be thine."
He knelt, and with solemnity took the oath, repeating each word after
her in an audible tone.
"This you promise to do or your soul forfeit."
"This I promise to do or my soul forfeit."
"_Or thy soul forfeit!_" repeated, from some unknown quarter, a
sepulchral voice, that made him start to his feet with mingled surprise
and alarm.
"Woman, what hast thou caused me to do?" he asked, with superstitious
dread.
"No evil, so thou break not thy oath."
"_So thou break not thy oath!_" repeated the same voice, close to his
ears.
"Sorceress, I will not break my oath," he said, after the surprise at
this second interruption had subsided; "but until I have first crossed
weapons with this rival lover, I approach her no more. He has gone to
seek me, therefore should I meet him. But that he should dare to love
where Robert Lester has loved, is ample reason why we should meet. Till
I find him, be he above the sea, I neither assume the name of Lester nor
see the haughty heiress of Bellamont. So give me success in this, and,
after, thy wishes shall be fulfilled to the letter."
"Darest thou delay?" she said, striding up to him and taking him by the
breast, while her eyes flashed vindictive fire.
"Thou hast not the whole control over my will, Elpsy. I fear and respect
thy power, but I obey it and thee only so far as it chimes with my own
ends. I have yielded to thee: now yield to me! Thy wishes, whatever may
have prompted them, shall soon enough be realized. If thou wilt give me
the amulet, and put thy arts to work and send me prosperous winds, I
will, ere the month end, hold this Fitzroy my prisoner; and then, by the
cross! in my very cabin shall he be spectator of my bridal. If in a
month I do not meet him, I will then do thy pleasure."
The sorceress gradually released her grasp as he continued, and, when he
had ended, said,
"'Tis well. Go."
"The amulet?"
"Nay. Thou shalt not have it," she said, firmly.
"By the rood! if thou give it not to me, I will wring thy shrivelled
neck for thee," he cried, with sudden impetuosity.
"Lay but the tip o' your least finger upon me, Robert Kyd, that moment
shall thy arm be palsied to its shoulder, and thy strength leave thy
body, till the infant an hour old shall master thee!"
She stepped back as she spoke, and extended her wand towards him with a
menacing gesture.
"Nay, nay, fearful woman," he cried, betraying some alarm at her words
and threatening attitude, "I meant not to anger thee. Wilt give the
amulet? I cannot go forth on this mission of revenge without it. I know
its mysterious and wonderful power, and must avail myself of it on this
occasion. Thou shalt have it after."
The sorceress looked troubled at his eager anxiety to possess the mystic
seal, and at length said, in a solemn tone of voice, and with a manner
calculated to have its effect on an imagination the least tinged with
superstition,
"Mortal, thou knowest not what thou seekest! If he who wears this on his
breast fail in his last trial of its mystic power, he shall become the
slayer of the mother who bore him!"
"What is this to me? I have no mother, sorceress."
"Ha! well, no, no! thou hast not!" she said, with a singular expression.
"Yet such is the doom of him in whose hands it fails. _Thou_ shalt not
wear it!"
"I will. If I tear it from thee by violence!"
"'Twill then do thee no good. It must be placed around thy neck with
solemn rites. Thou shalt have it," she said, suddenly, after a moment's
thought, "for thy success is my success. The risk shall be run by me!
Hast thou the nerve to go through the initiating rites?"
"I will stop at nothing. Give it me, with every hellish charm thou canst
invent. Once my revenge accomplished, take it back."
"But _He_'ll not give thee back the price thou payest for it."
"Ha! Well, be it so! I will not ask it. My soul is as well in the
devil's keeping as in my own. The world beyond has for me neither hopes
nor fears. My present aims accomplished, I care not for the bugbear
future! In the name of the master whom thou servest, give me the
amulet!"
"I obey," she said, with wild solemnity. "Slave, appear!"
She cast, as she spoke, a powder upon the flame, which shot up to the
roof and filled the place with so dazzling a brilliancy that for an
instant he was deprived of sight. The light sunk as suddenly as it had
risen, and he saw before him a tall, skeleton-like figure, over whose
face played an unearthly glare from the smouldering flame beneath the
caldron. It was the slave Cusha. The pirate chief gazed on the hideous
being with horror; his sword dropped from his grasp, and an exclamation
in the shape of an exorcism escaped his lips. The sorceress witnessed
his alarm with a triumphant smile; she then touched and turned her
spindle, while the slave, obedient to her nod, kneeled and began to
kindle the flame and stir the seething caldron.
The bucanier witnessed these preparations with curiosity not unmingled
with dread, yet nevertheless determined to abide by the issue. All at
once she began to chant: now in a low, deep voice, now in a high, shrill
key, as her words required, the slave at intervals chiming in in a tone
so deep and sepulchral that the startled bucanier could not believe that
it was human, especially when his eyes rested on the hideous being from
whom it proceeded, who grovelled on the earth at his feet.
WITCH (_to the wizard_).
"Kindle, kindle!"
BOTH.
"To our tasks!"
WITCH (_whirling the spindle_).
"Turn the spindle!
Mortal asks
A web of proof
From charmed woof!"
WIZARD.
"The pledge, the pledge?"
WITCH.
"Body and soul
To _his_ control,
The pledge, the pledge!"
WIZARD.
"The seal, the seal?"
WITCH.
"A bleeding lock
Of the victim's hair
Given to earth, sea,
Sky, and air,
The seal, the seal!"
As the sorceress chanted this she broke from the thread what she had
wound off, and, approaching him, chanted,
"Kneel, mortal, kneel!
And let me sever
The pledge that makes thee
_His_ for ever!"
He kneeled before her with the obedient submission of a child. She then
entwined her fingers in a long lock that grew above the left temple,
and, drawing from her bosom a dagger, held it above his head and
chanted,
"Dost thou believe, Robert Kyd, Robert Kyd,
Nor earth nor air, water nor fire,
Ball nor steel, nor mortal ire,
My potent charm
Have power to harm
Till it fulfil its destiny?"
"I do."
"Dost thou believe, Robert Kyd, Robert Kyd,
That within, without, body and soul,
This amulet shall keep thee whole
From ball and steel,
And mortal ill,
Till thou fulfil thy destiny?"
"I do."
"Thus I take the seal and pledge,
That, soul and body, thou engage,
When thy master calls for thee,
Ready, ready thou wilt be."
She severed the lock of hair from his temples as she ceased, and
commenced dividing it into four equal parts. When she had done so she
stepped backward, and, standing in the attitude of a priestess about to
perform an idolatrous sacrifice, cast a lock into the air, chanting in
the same wild manner,
"Prince of Air! take the pledge!"
As she ceased a gust of wind swept over the islet, as if, so it appeared
to the imagination of the excited victim of the rites, acknowledging the
sacrifice. She then cast a lock upon the ground and chanted,
"Prince of Earth! take the pledge!"
Instantly the ground on which he stood seemed to tremble; he heard a
deep rumbling as if in caverns beneath; and the little island appeared
to shake as if an earthquake had answered the appeal.
"Prince of Sea! take the pledge!"
She cast a third lock into the caldron as she repeated the line: the
water boiled and hissed with a great noise, and the waves from the sea
at the same time seemed to dash with a louder roar against the rocks
below, and flung their spray with a heavy dash upon the roof. A fourth
lock she cast into the flames, chanting,
"Prince of Fire! take the pledge!"
Instantly the place was illuminated as if with the most brilliant
flashes of lightning, while the loudest thunder seemed to explode at his
feet.
He started upright at this, for hitherto he had continued to kneel,
overcome by what he was both a witness of and a trembling participator
in, and with every sign of mortal wonder and dread, cried,
"Sorceress! avaunt! I will no more of this!"
"Peace, mortal, peace!
Cease, mortal, cease!
See no word by thee be spoken
Lest our magic charm be broken!"
As she chanted this reproof, she turned to the slave and continued in
the same strain,
"Hast thou the murderous lead
From the grave of the dead?"
"'Tis here," he said, prostrating himself, and giving to her, with
divers mysterious ceremonies, a leaden bullet.
"Sought you the grave at midnight deep--
Dug you down where dead men sleep--
Search'd you--found you this charm'd ball--
Did you this in silence all?"
"I did," answered the monster, prostrating himself.
"Slave, 'tis well.
From fire and air
We now prepare
Our mystic spell!"
She commenced walking around the caldron, drawing mystic figures on the
ground and in the air. At the end of the first circuit she chanted, with
slow and solemn gestures and growing energy,
"A brother's hand must have shaped the lead"--
at the end of the second, with more spirit, she sung,
"From a brother's hand the ball have sped."
The third time she chanted, in a still more excited manner, while she
danced about the caldron,
"And a brother's heart the ball have bled."
As she ended her third sibylline circuit around the fire, she turned to
the slave and said,
"Is such this lead?
Swear by thy head!"
"It is," he responded, crossing his clasped hands across his forehead,
and prostrating himself to the ground.
"'Tis well.
"Fire and water, perform thy task,
A charmed life a mortal asks."
She now poured the water from the caldron, and, casting the lead into
it, continued to dance round it, her gestures gradually increasing in
wildness and energy, while in a low, monotonous tone she chanted
unintelligibly certain mystic words, derived from the ancient Irish
incantations. With folded arms the bucanier watched her aloof. At length
she poured the melted lead into a shallow vessel containing water, when
with a hissing noise it spread itself out into a shape resembling a
human heart. Instantly the hut was darkened; loud unearthly noises
filled the place; blue flames shot upward from the head of the sorceress
and wizard slave, and, to the astonished bucanier, the apartment seemed
to be filled with demoniac forms, flitting and gibbering about him.
Aghast and horror-struck, he cried aloud,
"Merciful Heaven, protect me!"
No sooner had the words gone from his mouth than the whole hellish
confusion and uproar ceased, while, with an expression of fierce wrath,
she cried,
"By that word thou hast taken from the charm one half its power. It will
protect thee from ball, but not from steel; from earth and fire, but not
from water and air; else, with this amulet against thy heart, thou
wouldst bear a charmed life."
"'Tis nothing lost," he answered, recklessly.
"If ball can harm me not, a strong arm, quick eye, and faithful cutlass
shall protect me against steel. Thou hast ensured me victory in love and
revenge?"
"I have."
"More I ask not. Water can scarce drown one whose home is on the sea.
Air I fear not!"
"Take heed, lest one day thou die not in it!"
"Ha! what mean you?"
"Nothing. Kneel while I hang this amulet about thy neck."
Attaching to it a strand of her own long hair, she suspended it about
his neck as he kneeled before her, chanting,
"Mystic charm,
Shield from harm!
Winds and waves,
Be his slaves!
Mortal, naught can injure thee,
Spread thy sail and sweep the sea!
Vengeance now is in thy hand.
Be thy foe on sea or land!
If thy oath be kept not well,
Ill befall thee with this spell!"
Instantly thunder seemed to shake the hut, which was filled with a
sulphurous flame, while a repetition of the sounds he had before heard
filled him with consternation; and, ere he could rise to his feet, he
was struck to the earth by an unseen hand.
When he recovered himself the hut was deserted, and, save a ray of
moonlight streaming through the roof, buried in total darkness.
Confused, his senses overpowered, and his imagination excited by the
scenes he had been so prominent and passive an actor in, he left the
hut, the door of which was wide open, sought his boat, and roused his
men, who, save Lawrence, had fallen asleep.
Giving his orders briefly, he put out from the Witch's Isle, and at
midnight stood on the deck of his vessel. Shortly afterward he got under
weigh, sailed down the Narrows and put out to sea. When the morning
broke, great was the surprise and delight of the worthy people of New
Amsterdam to find that the stranger had departed as silently and
mysteriously as he had come; and many were the sage conjectures ventured
the following evening by the worthies that gathered, as usual, about the
stoop of the "Boat and Anchor," as to his character; and, sooth to say,
they hit not far from the truth.