_The New Sovereign Assumes Charge. Our Plans for Escape Go Awry. Victims
Taken to the Sacrificial Altar. A Bold Act Turns a Tragic Event._
IT was some time before Lentala could lift her face to her subjects.
The king’s renunciation--the finishing touch to the bold diplomacy with
which he had turned the crisis--had come to her as a bolt from heaven. I
wondered how it would affed her deeply laid plans for the rescue of
the colony; for, though it would give her extraordinary power, it would
abruptly check her irresponsible freedom of movement. Furthermore, it
had thrust upon her the necessity for swift rearrangement. Her hold on
neither the people nor the army had been firmly secured. I knew that
her quick understanding apprehended the new complications, and that she
understood the king’s wisdom fitted to the hour’s need. She gave me a
frightened look, and brightened under my smile.
With reassuring words the old man disengaged her hands, stepped back,
and left her to face the crowd. Thus she stood alone between us. It
seemed a cruelly trying moment in which to place a girl, but she made
the fight to face her duty. It was not long. Her voice, tremulous at
first, stole out clear and fine, reaching to the limits of the crowd;
and as she proceeded it came rounder and fuller, bearing the richness
that I knew.
“Thank you, my people. With the deepest love I accept the crown, and I
pledge my life to wear it worthily. Only love and trust me as you have
loved and trusted the good father who has ruled us so long and so
kindly, and you will find me faithful. This great change comes upon us
at a trying time. Neither a king nor a queen can govern a people without
their consent and love and confidence. Give me time to show that I am
worthy of all that from you. I shall still have the advice of the good
man who has placed upon me the crown, and of his able advisers. But I
shall trust your own hearts and heads more than all the wisdom of the
palace. I shall trust your confidence in me more than my power over you.
“We all know that there is a special cause for the present unrest. But
be patient. The problem is not difficult, and you may depend upon me and
my advisers to solve it. Every impatient act of yours shows distrust of
your government, and if you rashly do anything to weaken the power of
the crown, you lay yourselves open to dangers. The white people in the
valley are only awaiting the moment when authority is destroyed and our
people are in disorder to come forth and work havoc among us. They stand
together as one, and are cool and not afraid. Those are the greatest
powers that human beings in community can have. If you had worked your
will today, how many of you would be alive tomorrow? Our beautiful
island would have flowed with blood--the blood of our people.”
She ceased for a moment, to observe the effect. It ran as a low,
frightened murmur.
“But nothing can go wrong if we ourselves keep cool and hold together
and trust to the crown. The army will camp tonight in the palace walls,
and every care will be taken to keep order in the kingdom. All will be
well if you yourselves are calm. Therefore I command you one and all to
go at once to your homes, and remain there in quiet and peace. No matter
though storms may come, or the earth tremble, or the fires under the
ground break forth, be not afraid; trust your queen and your army, for
we have no fear. Be as brave and cheerful as we. All your problems will
be solved, all your reasonable wishes will be granted, but that must be
done by your queen.” She raised her arms in the manner of Rangan, and
impressively added: “Go now, with my love and my blessing.”
Another wave of affectionate loyalty swept over the multitude; it began
to disintegrate, and to pacify and turn back belated incomers; but a
shrill cry rose:
“Sacrifice! Give us a sacrifice!”
It had an instant effect. The moving crowd halted, and the cry ran to
many throats, “Sacrifice! Sacrifice!” The queen turned to old Rangan,
and he almost imperceptibly nodded. Lentala hesitated as she faced the
mob again, but refrained from looking at me. She raised her hand.
“Be patient!” she cried.
“Sacrifice! Sacrifice!”
“You shall have------”
The rest was drowned in a threatening shout. Lentala stood dazed, and
in the ensuing buzzing and movement lost any opportunity she might
have desired for further speech. So she stood as the still noisy crowd
straggled off. Unrest had been rekindled, but to what extent I could not
guess. The last loiterers often stopped to gaze at the little group on
the wall, and the army stood in soldierly ranks before the gate.
“The army will salute the queen,” commanded Lentala.
It was finely given with the sword, and the men heartily responded to
the oath that she gave them as soldiers of the queen. With a gesture
to us that we follow, she tripped down the ladder, opened the gate, and
admitted the army to the grounds. Next, after sending to liberate the
soldiers in the dungeon, she had the palace astir with an order to
prepare for the army a feast and accommodations for the night.
Rangan had been a silent observer of her whirlwind movements. I was not
wholly satisfied with what I saw in his face, but with whatever else
that I saw there was admiration. Obviously she was permitting him to
remain until he should be satisfied that she was capable of assuming
command of the army. As matters were quieting she asked him to go to his
wife, and he tottered away, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.
She ordered the army to break ranks. The men showed their relief with
childish inconsequence, and scattered at will. That left us alone.
The bright look that she turned to me was a sudden change from royal
sternness to Beela’s challenge. She was my little work-mate of the
valley.
Something had risen between us; consciousness of it showed in
her glance, and I was sore without that. To have tricked me so
unnecessarily, as to Beela seemed wanton and cruel. Unreasonable as it
may appear, I had been shocked so deeply that time for recovery would
be required. I had seen the craftiness with the gentleness of the native
blood in old Rangan. I had seen his hatred of the white man, and the
merciless savagery that his show of benevolence masked. It had made me
distrustful of the native blood, which composed half of Lentala. To the
sweet, childish Beela whom I loved had been added something that------
“Choseph!”
I started, but could not bring a smile into the look that I gave her,
even though the call had been Beela’s.
“Don’t you want to hear what has happened to me?” she asked, ignoring my
stolidity.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
She stiffened slightly under that address, and subtly put Beela aside
for the queen. With a hint of coldness she said:
“At the beginning of the outbreak I foresaw that Mr. Vancouver’s guard
would decamp; so I went to look after him; but he had already gone after
being left alone. I followed him. That brought me to the crowd. When I
found myself in danger there, I called Christopher. His daring leap from
the wall and the fury with which he laid about him confused the crowd.
He was helped by some loyal subjects whom his conduct inspired. I don’t
know how many skulls he cracked, but no one was killed. I pointed out
the men for him to silence. No one could resist him. When he called for
the king to ascend, he took Mr. Vancouver in charge and slipped away.”
I nodded, but she must have seen my gratitude for her taking such risks
on Mr. Vancouver’s account. Doubtless that was what made her eyes flash,
but at the moment I did not know why. I reflected only that two matters
of overshadowing importance must be attended to at once, and that
possibly her plans had been disarranged.
“What has become of Christopher and Mr. Vancouver, your Majesty?” I
asked.
“I told Christopher to take Mr. Vancouver to the hut, where Mr. Rawley
was waiting,” she answered, “and then go to meet the colony.”
“Thank you. What is to be done with the colony, and what am I to do?”
She raised her eyes, and there was no trace of Beela in them. “I had
asked Captain Mason,” she answered, “to have each member of the colony
bring all the food possible, and had told him that you and Christopher
would meet him in the first darkness following the earthquake, at a
certain pass just to the west of the clearing where the sacrificial
altar is, and that as the natives would be demoralized by the
earthquake, you could lead them without much risk past the settlement to
your vessel, which might be sailed away at once.”
My wonder and gratitude at the intelligence of her plan must have shown
in my face, but her tone had no warmth when she added:
“Fortunately, matters have turned out so that I can take the army out of
your way. The real danger lay there.”
That was why she had admitted the soldiers to the palace grounds and
locked the gate. Could any other have given so brilliant a turn to a
threatening situation? Yet I only looked at her in silence, and her face
had not a trace of the old friendliness. Perhaps it was my own fault.
There rang in my ears the demand for a sacrifice; I recalled old
Rangan’s nod; I remembered the defenseless position of Rawley and Mr.
Vancouver; and the brown blood in the Senatra queen unaccountably looked
different from the brown blood in Beela.
“Your Majesty,” I said, “I will go now and see that all is well with Mr.
Vancouver; then I will go and assure a clear opening for the colony,
and arrange for Mr. Vancouver and Rawley to join us as we move down the
eastern side of the settlement to the harbor.”
“Yes,” she agreed. I was turning away, but she stopped me. “You will
reflect,” she said, “that many people in the island are ignorant of
what has taken place here today. I will send out runners, but still the
entire island can’t be covered. All know that a white man has been held
for sacrifice to the Black Face in order to stop the earthquakes and
avert an eruption. If the earthquake returns, even the people who saw
me crowned may become uncontrollable. Should that happen, I am not
sufficiently sure of the army to trust it in stopping a sacrifice. There
is just one thing to do.”
She ceased, and regarded me waitingly.
“What is it, your Majesty?”
She hardened still more. “Let’s consider the situation calmly. If
some very strong diversion should arise tonight, the colony could pass
through to the vessel without risk. On the other hand, the people are
alarmed and restless; they won’t sleep soundly; many may be abroad in
every direction. If some of them should see the colony escaping, a cry
might be raised that would ring from one end of the island to the other.
That would mean the instant gathering of a mob which no power could
resist, and the colony would be annihilated.”
“I see, your Majesty. What diversion would prevent it?”
“The sacrifice of Mr. Vancouver and Rawley.” She spoke in a cold,
business-like tone.
My horror must have been evident. “Your Majesty,” I said with warmth,
“before that shall be submitted to, every member of our colony will die
fighting.”
She shrugged. “That is your affair. I should hate to see any of _my_
people killed in such a clash. It is interesting to see how jealous
you are of Mr. _Vancouver’s_ safety, when he had planned to destroy the
colony.”
I saw the drift of her sneer, and was angry and silent.
“He has a very charming daughter,” she went on.
The humiliation that she was thrusting upon me was unbearable, but I
could be patient, since I carried the lives of the colony in my hands;
yet it was not pleasant to see this side of Lentala’s nature. The worst
of it was that there was no possible argument to bring against hers. Mr.
Vancouver richly deserved such a fate, and so did Rawley; their meeting
it would certainly assure our escape to the _Hope_. But Lentala could
see in my attitude nothing but consideration for Annabel, and she
misconstrued that. It was all that I could do to restrain myself.
“I think we understand each other,” she remarked after a pause.
“Do you mean,” I burst out in a passion, “that you are going to order
the sacrifice of Mr. Vancouver and Rawley?”
She looked at me steadily. Afterward I recalled the softening, the
suffering, the dumb pleading in her face, but I did not see it at the
time.
“It doesn’t appear,” she quietly said, “that I am called on to tell you
any more of my plans at present. You are fully informed as to what you
may do in trying to get the colony to the ship tonight.” Her manner was
entirely that of a queen to her subject. “I think you understand to some
extent what I have done to spare the lives of your people and help them
leave the island. I will add that some trusted natives will try to make
your passage to the ship safe. But it is one thing to make plans and
another to carry them out in the face of a panic. There is no foreseeing
what may happen before morning. My scouts will keep me informed every
few minutes.”
There came an awkward pause. Her head was down; she stood in a waiting
attitude. It seemed to me that all the world I loved had suddenly been
swept away. Behind the woman confronting me I knew that my dear Beela
stood sweet and laughing, all sunshine and dear womanliness. Only a fool
would let her go.
“Beela!” I said.
She started, and raised sorrowing eyes to mine.
“Aren’t you going with us on the _Hope?_”
“My duty is here now, and I can think of nothing but that.”
“Does your unexpected elevation to a queenhood blot out all the past?” I
asked.
She bit her lip. “I hadn’t expected that from you,” she said in sadness.
“Then, is it Annabel?” I insisted.
She did not answer at once. “You will see her again this evening,” she
gently said.
“Of course, but------” I saw it was useless, and wondered if she was
dismissing me. “Surely I shall see you also,” I said.
She smiled, but it was not the smile of Beela; it was that of a woman
who knows care.
“Perhaps,” she returned; “yes, of course,--I think. Meanwhile, good-by,”
and held out her hand.
I took it, and would not at first let her withdraw it; but with a little
sigh, which she tried to conceal, she turned away and walked slowly to
the palace.
Heavy-hearted, but determined to see Lentala before the colony
sailed,--if it should ever have that good fortune,--I went about my
duty.
The first task was to see that Mr. Vancouver was safe, for many
contingencies might arise to overwhelm Christopher. I went to the hut
where Beela had left Rawley, but it was vacant. Christopher must have
taken the two men to a spot near the pass, to meet the outcoming colony.
On going to the summit of the valley wall I faced the rising moon. When
I had come within a few hundred yards of the spot where the colony would
emerge,--it was the spot where Rawley had assaulted me,--I heard the low
moaning of a man, followed by his querulous, childish talk. At first I
marveled that Christopher should have left his charges in so exposed
a place, as it was immediately near the main trail to the sacrificial
stone.
“Will she come soon?” Mr. Vancouver plaintively asked.
“Very soon. Be patient,” kindly answered Rawley.
The men were invisible in the gloom, but it was imprudent for them to
be speaking aloud. Yet I dared not show myself, lest Mr. Vancouver be
thrown into noisy mania. Should the natives be seeking him, it would
be easy to trail him to this spot; and the colony might be discovered
through his presence. Again Mr. Vancouver broke the silence.
“She doesn’t suspect me, does she?”
“She is and always will be your loyal daughter.”
“I know.” His voice was not a madman’s. “Raise my head a little. It is
bursting. Rawley, I’m damned. The visions I’ve had! In one of them two
men came, looking like natives, but speaking English. One of them spoke
of my treachery and my death. I tried to kill him. The other prevented
me, and then I saw that they were Tudor and Christopher. And today the
one looking like Christopher rescued me from a hell of madmen. But how
could I stay in that cabin when Annabel was coming?”
A rumbling and a quivering of the earth hurried me on. I ran to the edge
of the valley wall. This brought me nearly opposite the Black Face. I
had noticed a faint, weird light on the trees; now I saw the origin of
it,--a purple flame was issuing from an orifice below the Face. It waved
upward like an inverted streamer, wreathing the Face and lending to it a
ghastly lifelikeness.
From below me rose faint cries of terror, quickly stilled, and soon the
vanguard of the colony arrived from the valley. The earth-trembling had
ceased; the flame was subsiding.
There was some trouble at first in making myself known. Annabel came
up with Captain Mason and Christopher, and delayed my disclosure of the
plan for escape.
“Where is my father?” she immediately asked.
I informed her, and learned that Christopher had told her all that he
knew.
“Take me to him,” she begged.
I replied that it would be safer to bring him to her. Directing
Christopher to fetch a stretcher from which a woman had just been
lifted, I left with him as the slender procession crept to the summit.
Deep anxiety showed under Christopher’s calm exterior.
Mr. Vancouver and Rawley were gone! A hasty search in the vicinity
failed to discover them. We worked down to the trail leading to the
clearing where the sacrifices were made. There we found a stream of
silent, soft-footed natives hurrying toward the clearing. No speech
was needed between Christopher and me to explain the situation.
Christopher’s wise plan had gone tragically awry. It had not been
difficult for the dognosed natives to trail Christopher to the hut, and
then Rawley and Mr. Vancouver to the spot where I had found them.
I was thrown into a momentary confusion. Lentala alone had known whither
Christopher was to take Mr. Vancouver, and she had argued for his
sacrifice as the surest means to save the colony! The thought was
sickening. But it was inconceivable that _Beela_ should have the heart
for such a course,--sweet, gentle Beela! And had not Lentala nearly
forfeited her life to the mob in trying to rescue Mr. Vancouver?
Christopher had slipped from my mind; but I observed him now, and he was
listening far. I waited, knowing that by this time the two victims were
already at the altar, and that the earthquake a few minutes ago had
lent a fierce impetus to the proceedings. I could mentally see the main
settlement and its outlying regions swarming as the whispered news flew
from mouth to mouth that two white victims for the sacrifice had been
found.
Christopher soon turned to me.
“They’ll have to get wood, sir,” he said.
“Yes. That will take time, but there are many men.”
Lentala had said that her scouts would report often; but there was a
chance that they would either conceal the present movement from her or
give her the news too late. Even should she be starting at that
moment, it would not be possible for her to arrive in time to stop the
sacrifice. Yet she should be informed. If she refused to come, then I
should know----
“Christopher,” I said, “go and tell the queen.” I said nothing of a
desperate plan that I had formed.
Christopher looked at me strangely. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “And you can
save ‘em.”
He gave me a look of dog-like love, and vanished.
I returned to Captain Mason, avoiding Annabel, and rapidly placed the
entire situation before him. His jaws set hard in the moonlight. I
could imagine his thoughts, which no doubt agreed with Lentala’s; and I
realized the terrible risk to the colony when the fanatics should find
themselves balked in the sacrifice and should swarm in a search which
the colony could not escape--unless my plan should prove successful to
the last detail or the queen should bring up the army in time to
prevent a battle. And there was mighty Christopher, the man of courage,
resourcefulness, and prompt action. I hurled these arguments at Captain
Mason, and pointed out Annabel, standing alone and suffering as she
awaited her father.
“You and Hobart and I will make the dash,” I urged. “It is the only
chance, and we must hurry. Dr. Preston can be taken into the secret, and
can quietly prepare the men to fight if necessary. They are all armed;
the savages are not.”
He responded by calling Dr. Preston and charging him as I had suggested,
particularly warning him not to alarm the colony. Then he went to
Annabel and gave her some quieting explanation. I borrowed a capable
knife from a sailor, and we set out.
We bore down to the trail, and found it still swarming with a scurrying
horde, all proceeding with a stealthy swiftness. Then I struck out on
a straight course through the tangled forest, leading Captain Mason and
Hobart a breathless pace. On arriving at the edge of the clearing and
concealing ourselves, we found hundreds of savages already assembled and
more pouring in.
“There they are.” I said, pointing to a considerable open space between
the sacrificial stone and a packed mass of men formed in a semi-circle,
those in front sitting. Midway between the stone and the natives were
the two doomed men, dim in the moonlight. The one lying on the ground
was doubtless Mr. Vancouver, perhaps unconscious. Rawley, though his
hands were tied behind him, sat erect, calmly facing his tormentors.
As Captain Mason and Hobart had no disguise, I alone must bring the two
men out. My companions would take them to the colony; I would remain to
face the issue and divert the pursuit. Captain Mason looked very grave,
but Hobart was all eagerness; I could guess that his sore spirit yearned
to heal itself by sharing my risk. A longing for Christopher,--for his
far-seeing eye, his steady nerve, his quick hand,--came over me.
“I remember,” I explained in showing why I should not make the dash at
once, “that a ring was fastened in the rock about where Mr. Vancouver
and Rawley are sitting. They must be chained to it. I must wait until
they are released.”
We knew that the delay would mean an augmentation of the crowd and the
danger.
Of course the theft of the wood had been discovered. The hut sheltering
it had disappeared; its poles and dryer thatch were already piled on the
altar. The sacrifice was only delayed, for two-score natives were coming
in with dry wood for which they had foraged. In that pursuit one came
near us, and I made ready, but in his eagerness he passed on, unseeing.
The priest at the altar received the wood, examined it, cast out the
useless, and carefully stacked the pyre, which steadily grew.
Silence rested on the crowd. Here was religion in its naked birth,--the
elemental man using torture and murder for prayer, with greater
reverence and faith than I have seen in some modern fashions of
placation or appeal. Fronting them across the dim chasm of the valley
was the embodied Force whose wrath must be appeased. Could the white
blood in Lentala permit this form of worship?
We could see through the trees the indefinite black mass of the Face. At
small intervals came low subterranean growls and slight tremors of
the earth. It was as though the underground gods were gathering their
strength.
Finally the priest’s work was done. He slowly went to the chained men,
stood over them, and raised his hand. Four men came forward, followed by
four others, who took positions back of him. Twenty more came and formed
a cordon about the altar.
The first four knelt, and the chains fell clanking. Rawley rose without
assistance. Being speechless with a gag, he implored in dumb show for
Mr. Vancouver, offering himself alone. There was a low colloquy between
the priests and the four, at the end of which his gesture commanded that
Mr. Vancouver also be taken to the stone. As two men stooped to lift
him and two others took each an arm of Rawley, the priest began a
solemn chant in a minor key, and started the slow march to the pyre, Mr.
Vancouver on the shoulders of two men, Rawley walking firm and erect.
At the altar the priest ceased his chant, which was taken up by the
crowd; but, though there were many hundreds of voices, they were so soft
and in such fine unison that the volume was hardly greater than that of
a dozen men. As it proceeded, the priest picked up a vessel containing
smothered coals, blew them into life, and ignited the thatch at the four
corners. Evidently the victims were to be further tied, and tossed aloft
when the fire was hot.
As the priest stepped back to see the blaze rise, I bounded into the
open.
I remember that the fire was hot in my face as I reached Rawley and
nipped his thongs, and that the astonishment on the priest’s face was
comical. Also, I was conscious of a numbness in my right hand. I had
used my fist perhaps more vigorously than necessary. Two or three
natives were prone when I shouldered Mr. Vancouver and called to Rawley,
and the darkness of the forest soon concealed us.
A roar delayed by astonishment rose behind us; a thousand devils had
opened throat and were leaping to the pursuit.