Tecumah and his sister remained for some time with their friend.
Tecumah then accompanied the minister to his house. They passed on
their way through the count's garden, as it afforded them a shorter cut
than the public path. As they got to the further end of the garden they
turned aside to visit the spot where Nigel had been seized. On reaching
it, Tecumah sprang forward, for there he saw before him on the ground
the Bible, which the priest, in his eagerness to hold back Constance,
had let drop, and had forgotten to take with him when the count
appeared.
"Blessed Book!" exclaimed Tecumah. "Let me be its guardian. Your
cruel persecutors shall not burn it while I have it in charge, and you
may come over to read it, or when the search is over I will bring it
back to you."
To this proposal Monsieur Laporte willingly agreed; and while the
Indian, wrapping it up carefully, concealed it beneath his cloak, the
minister closed the box in which it was wont to be put, and covered it
over again with earth and leaves.
Cora begged that she might be allowed to continue with Constance till
the following morning or longer. "We were not observed coming into the
house," she said, "and it will not be known that I am here. I have my
reasons for wishing to remain."
The count and Constance of course agreed to what Cora wished. Before
her brother quitted the house she had a short and earnest conversation
with him. Tecumah, having spent some time with the minister, hurried to
his canoe and rapidly crossed to the north side of the harbour.
Meanwhile, Nigel was dragged along by his captors. He had been so
completely surprised that it was impossible for him to escape; and
finding this, he walked along without making any further resistance.
The priest soon overtook the party. In vain Nigel tried to learn from
him what had become of Constance.
"It's not my duty to answer questions," he replied; "but I have some,
notwithstanding, to ask you. How is it that, knowing the orders of the
governor, you ventured to read that book from which you draw all your
heresies?"
"I am not aware that I have drawn anything but truth through the
teaching of the Holy Spirit," answered Nigel.
"That is the notion all you heretics hold!" exclaimed the priest. "It
is the origin of your pestiferous principles."
"I was not prohibited from reading it in my own country, and I claim as
a Scotchman the right to do so wherever I am," answered Nigel.
"No person of whatever country has the right to act contrary to the
commands of the Catholic Church," answered the priest, furiously; "and
that Church positively forbids laymen from reading the Bible, or putting
their own interpretations on it, therefore to whatever nation you belong
you are under its rule, and are equally guilty. But I waste words in
arguing with a heretic. Your only hope of escape from death is to
recant without delay and become a faithful Catholic, and the governor,
at my intercession, will overlook your offence. Come, you will be wise;
so give up your errors."
"Never will I give up my faith," answered Nigel, firmly.
"Ah, my young friend, you say so now; but think of the advantages you
will gain. You will at once be restored to your young wife, and will
undoubtedly be raised to a post of honour and wealth in our new
settlement; and when the count dies you will inherit his property and
found a noble family in Antarctic France."
Nigel felt that the temptations held out were powerful, but he prayed
that were they ten times more so he might have grace to resist them. He
doubted also very much whether the wily priest was not mocking him. He
knew full well from the accounts he had heard in France of the treachery
of which the emissaries of Rome were guilty, and he would not place any
confidence in the most specious promises any of them might have made to
him. He therefore let the priest talk on, endeavouring as far as he
could not to listen to him. At length the fort was reached. Nigel was
forthwith thrust into a cell, ordinarily used for the confinement of a
refractory or drunken soldier, and was there left to his own
meditations. He walked up and down, considering what he should do and
what he should say. Now and again he stopped, and earnestly prayed for
guidance and direction. The governor and priests were too eager to
condemn the Protestants to allow an accused person to remain long in
prison without trial.
That very afternoon Nigel was carried into the public hall where the
governor held his court. The priest was his accuser, and the men by
whom he was captured were the witnesses against him. Of course he had
no defence to make, except his claim of right to read whatever books he
pleased.
"Before he is condemned there is another charge of a still more heavy
nature," said the governor. "Stand forward, men, and say what you have
got to state;" and Nigel was, to his astonishment, charged with abetting
Captain Beauport in heaving overboard the images of the saints, the
relics, and papal dispensations.
"Even had I actually assisted I should only have been obeying the orders
of my superior officer," said Nigel.
"You confess that you were guilty of standing by and witnessing such a
proceeding without remonstrating?" exclaimed one of the priests who was
seated near the governor. "Such enormities must meet with severe
punishment, or our holy religion will be held in disrespect."
"Undoubtedly Captain Beauport escaped with too lenient a sentence," said
the governor, "though probably the vengeance of heaven has overtaken him
ere this: he and all on board the ship in which he sailed are beneath
the ocean."
"Because one has escaped, are other criminals to go unpunished?"
exclaimed the priest who had before spoken. "Death by shooting or
hanging would be too mild a sentence: he deserves the stake, unless by
confessing his fault and abjuring his errors he returns to the loving
bosom of our holy Church."
Similar remarks were made by the other priest in a manner not usual in a
court of law. For some time this mockery of a trial went on. Nigel
prayed for strength, for he felt how greatly he needed it. He stood
calm and apparently unmoved, listening to the abusive remarks of the
vindictive priests. No one raised a voice in his favour. There might
have been many who felt for him, but they feared to speak. The men who
were judging him were also his accusers. Still he felt bound to defend
himself, although he knew full well that the most able defence would not
avail him. He pleaded that, with regard to reading the Bible, he was a
foreigner and was but doing what was allowed in his own country; that he
was not even attempting to make proselytes, and was simply obeying the
command of his Lord to search the Scriptures. And that, as to the
second accusation, whether or not he approved of what had been done, had
he acted otherwise and interfered, he would have been guilty of an
infraction of naval discipline; therefore he could not be made
answerable for what had been done.
"He acknowledges himself guilty of sacrilege, for ecclesiastical law is
above all other law, and that would have compelled him to interfere,"
cried the priest. "Death, death, to the heretic!" and several voices
echoed the savage cry.
"You are undoubtedly guilty of the crime alleged against you, Monsieur
Lieutenant," said the governor, after consulting in an undertone with
the two priests at his side. "Your being a foreigner, as you are in the
service of France, will not avail you. You will have two days given you
to consider whether you will recant, and if not, your sentence is `That
you be bound to a stake, with fire kindled around you till your body is
consumed, and your soul is carried off by the emissaries of Satan, who
are certainly waiting for it.'"
Nigel listened calmly while the governor was pronouncing his terrible
doom--one to which the Church of Rome had already condemned tens of
thousands of human beings for simply reading the Bible.
Without being allowed to say another word, he was seized by the guards
waiting the beck of the governor, and dragged out of the court.
Instead, however, of being led back to the prison where he had
previously been confined, he found that he was actually leaving the
fort. The governor was, in truth, afraid to keep him there, for a
considerable number of the _Madeline's_ crew, who were much attached to
him, were doing duty on shore, and, although they attended the Romish
service, he was well aware that still in their hearts they were
Protestants, and he feared that they might rescue him and assist in his
escape.
The priests had of late erected close to the church a small building
which they intended should serve as an inquisitorial prison where they
might keep in confinement any heretics on whom they were desirous of
expending their religious zeal. To this place Nigel was taken, and
thrust into one of its dungeons built especially under the priests'
directions. It was, in truth, little better than a pit dug in the
ground, with a small aperture towards the roof to admit light. On this
occasion they had obtained a party of soldiers from the governor to
guard their prison.
Nigel had not been long shut up in this dreadful place when night came
on, and he was left in total darkness, with only a bundle of dry grass
on which to lie down and rest himself. Brave as he was, he could not
but look forward with painful feelings to the fate prepared for him. He
thought, however, more of his young wife and the poor count. He feared,
too, that the hatred of the priests might drag them into the same fate.
Perhaps even now they were seized and accused of crimes for which their
tyrannical oppressors might condemn them to death. Sleep was
impossible, while the darkness prevented him from pacing up and down his
narrow cell, which would have been some relief to his tortured mind. He
felt for the pile of grass and lay down, considering that it would be
wiser to try and obtain some rest to prepare himself for the future
trials he would have to go through. The sudden destruction of all his
happiness, separation from his beloved Constance, and the agonising
death speedily to overtake him, made him have recourse to prayer to
obtain that strength ever awarded to those who seek it from on high.
Nigel had been sleeping for some time, when, suddenly awaking, he became
conscious that some one was in the vault, by hearing a footstep and a
low sound of breathing. A feeling of horror for a moment ran through
him. Could it be an assassin sent by the governor or priests to put him
secretly to death, and so to save themselves from carrying out the
sentence passed on him, from which even they might shrink, aware of the
horror it would create among the greater number of the colonists, who,
not having been educated in their school, would, whatever their
religious sentiments, look at it with disapprobation. Still, for
himself it would matter nothing, except being deprived of a few hours of
life, and he would thus be saved from the tortures of the flames. Such
thoughts rapidly passed through his mind; but in another moment he had
nerved himself, like a brave man, to meet whatever might occur. His
very natural feeling was to struggle desperately with his supposed
assassin. He might even gain the victory and thus make his escape.
Full of youth and strength, he felt that it would be better far to die
struggling bravely, should the guard set upon him, than to sink down
tamely where he lay. Springing to his feet, he stood with his arms
prepared for defence.
"Hush!" said a voice. "I thought you were still sleeping. Make no
noise--give me your hand and come quickly; there is not a moment to
lose."
Nigel knew by the voice and the mode of expression that it was the
Indian Cora who spoke. He put out his hand and felt it grasped by her
small and delicate fingers. To his surprise he found himself led almost
instantly into a narrow passage, with room sufficient only for one
person to pass through at a time.
"Stoop low," said Cora, as she conducted him into apparently a small
alcove on one side. "Step back and remain a moment," she added,
disengaging her hand, immediately after which he heard a grating sound
as if a heavy stone were being moved.
Quickly returning, she again took his hand, and led him down a slope of
some feet, and then again along a level; when once more they ascended
another slope, at the top of which, mounting a few steps, he found
himself standing in the open air, surrounded by a thick grove, beyond
which he could distinguish the wooden tower of the church. Once more
Cora desired him to remain, while she was engaged in closing up the
aperture through which they had emerged. Putting her finger on her lips
to enforce silence, she once more led him forward at a rapid rate,
keeping under the shelter of the trees; where the gloom was such that he
could not possibly by himself have made his way. At length they reached
a small beach with low cliffs on either side. Keeping under their shade
they proceeded till he discovered a canoe concealed beneath a rock.
Cora, without requiring his assistance, quickly launched it, and then
again taking his hand, bade him, in a whisper, step in and lie down his
length at the bottom. Instantly grasping a paddle, she began to make
her way rapidly from the shore. She had not got far, when a voice from
the cliff hailed, ordering the canoe immediately to come back. Cora
took no notice, but paddled on with renewed efforts. Again the person
on the cliff shouted, and threatened to fire if his orders were not
obeyed. A few seconds only had passed when a shot whistled close to the
canoe. Cora bravely paddled on. The man on the cliff must have
reloaded quickly, for soon afterwards another shot came, but happily
without touching the canoe. The darkness must have soon hid so small an
object from the soldier's sight, though the shore was still visible. A
third and fourth shot followed, but still wider of the mark. Cora did
not relax her efforts till they had got more than half way across the
harbour. She then stopped for a moment to listen, but no sound of oars
indicated that they were pursued.
"We are safe now," she said, "and you may raise yourself; but don't
attempt to stand up. Thankful I am that we have escaped. I have no
fear for myself, but I dreaded every moment lest you might have been
retaken by your cruel enemies. My brother gave me the task to do, and I
gladly accepted it. He himself has gone to summon our tribe to arms,
having resolved to rescue you by force had my undertaking failed."
"I am most grateful to you," said Nigel. "But by what wonderful means
were you able to enter my prison and liberate me without apparent
difficulty?"
"By means which these cruel priests themselves afforded," answered Cora.
"When they were building their prison-house, Tecumah and I happened to
pass that way and observed that they were placing it on the ground once
occupied by an ancient temple at which, in days gone by, our tribe were
wont to worship. One of our medicine-men, who had listened to the truth
from Tecumah's mouth, told us that there were several passages running
underground which had possibly been undiscovered by the builders. He is
a sagacious man, and, finding that the new building was intended for a
prison, advised us to visit the ancient passage and endeavour to keep it
concealed, so that a way might be made if necessary into the dungeon.
`The whites treat us at present with respect,' he observed; `but the
time may come when they may act towards us as the Portuguese have long
been acting towards the Indians in their neighbourhood, imprisoning and
murdering those who refuse to adopt their faith.' My brother
accordingly, with several other young men, led by the medicine-man, paid
numerous visits, at night, to the place, unknown to the French. It was
thus discovered that an underground passage was being formed between
some of the cells of the prison and the church. Fortunately this was
found out before the old passage was cut through, and by placing a large
stone, turning on a sort of hinge, on one side, they were able to secure
a way into the new passage without betraying the existence of their own.
By constantly being on the watch, they ascertained that only one cell
had as yet been formed into which the passage led. I had resolved when
you were made prisoner to attempt your rescue even from the fort; but
when I found that you were carried to the priests' prison my hopes of
success arose. I had one night, from curiosity, gone with my brother to
visit the spot. We then discovered that the door which led into your
prison had no lock, but was merely closed with smooth sliding bolts. I
thus knew my way, and was able to set you free."
Nigel had no doubt that the object of the passage was to enable the
priests either to work on the minds of the prisoners by pretended
miraculous appearances; or else, should they desire to murder one of
their captives, to convey the body secretly away. He, indeed, knew that
such arrangements were common throughout Europe, and that numberless
impostures had thus been carried out.
They quickly reached the shore, which had of late been entirely deserted
by the Tamoyos, who had, influenced by what had been told them by
Tecumah, moved some distance further inland. Cora, who feared that the
direction they had taken would be suspected by the French, when Nigel's
escape was discovered, advised that they should go forward till he was
safe among her tribe.
Dark as the night was, she knew her way, and, light and active, she led
him forward at a rapid rate. They had gone some distance, when she
exclaimed, "Here come my brother and his people. They will indeed
rejoice to find you free."
Nigel was welcomed by Tecumah and his party. They were on their way to
the shore, intending immediately to cross, and hoping before daylight to
reach the prison. Tecumah, in his anxiety to save Nigel, had induced
his followers to swear that they would rescue him by force if they could
succeed in no other way. Their intention was to attack the guards and
break open the prison, expecting to get off again before the governor
and his people had time to pursue them. Nigel assured them how thankful
he was that they had not been compelled to resort to such a proceeding.
Too probably the governor and priests would wreak their vengeance on his
wife and father-in-law. As it was, he felt very anxious as to what
would happen when his escape was discovered. It would certainly baffle
the sagacity of the priests to ascertain how it had been accomplished,
and would undoubtedly make them more savage, as they might naturally
suspect that some of their own followers had proved treacherous, and yet
not know whom to accuse.
"They shall not injure the count or any of our friends," exclaimed
Tecumah. "We can distinguish between the true men and the bad. The
last, as God's Word tells us, are always the most numerous, and it shall
be our care to defend the innocent and weaker ones. My people shall
remain ready with their canoes to cross over at a moment's notice, while
I go to the island and learn what has taken place."
Nigel expressed his wish to accompany the Tamoyos, but both Tecumah and
Cora urged him to proceed to a further distance, as, should the governor
suspect where he had gone, he would in all probability send an
expedition over to bring him back, and as they would refuse to give him
up, an open rupture would be the consequence. Nigel at last agreed to
accompany Cora to her father's abode, which was above five miles from
the shore of the harbour, while Tecumah carried out his proposed
project.
Leaving his people encamped on the shore with their canoes ready to
embark, he paddled across towards the island. He was well aware of the
risk he was running, for the governor, should he suspect that he had
been instrumental in rescuing Nigel, would in all probability seize him
and shut him up in prison. He had taken the precaution, however, of
charging the next chief in common after him to come across and demand
his liberation.
Daylight broke as he reached the place at which he was accustomed to
land. He proceeded at once to the house of the count, who was already
on foot, and he had the satisfaction of giving him tidings of Nigel's
safety.
"The knowledge that he is free will restore life to my poor daughter,"
said the count. "But we are still in the power of the governor and
those revengeful priests, and I fear much that they will not allow us
long to remain in quiet."
"Then come over and live with us!" exclaimed Tecumah. "We will build a
house for you and hunt for you, and do our utmost to enable you to live
as you are now doing."
"We cannot be thus burdensome to you; and we should have no means of
paying your people for labouring in our service," answered the count.
"Still, I am most grateful to you, and will think over the matter."
Constance came out of her room as soon as she had risen to thank
Tecumah, who then, hoping that his friends would not be interfered with,
went on to see the minister.
He had been there for some time, and was about to return, when one of
the count's servants rushed into the house, out of breath from running.
"Sad news, Monsieur Laporte!" he explained. "Just ten minutes ago one
of those ill-conditioned priests, with half a dozen ruffians of
soldiers, came to my master's house and carried him and Madame Nigel off
on an accusation of having assisted Monsieur Nigel to escape, and of
reading the Bible. What will they do with them? They say Monsieur
Nigel was condemned to be burnt, and they will burn them in revenge;"
and the poor fellow wrung his hands and burst into tears.
"God will protect them, though I don't see how," said the minister.
"Alas! alas! These persecutors of ours have already put many innocent
persons to death, and will not scruple to destroy all those who oppose
them."
"They must not be allowed to suffer," exclaimed Tecumah, when he heard
what had occurred. "I will away to my people before they can stop me;
and we will one and all perish before we allow a hair of their heads to
be injured."
"I would seek to avoid bloodshed, and must urge you, my friend, to try
peaceable measures _first_," said Monsieur Laporte.
"We will endeavour, at all events, to rescue the innocent. You, my
friend, come with me; you are in danger here, for they will assuredly
seize you," said the Indian, taking the minister's hand.
"I must remain at the post where duty calls me," answered Monsieur
Laporte. "I may be the means of leading some perishing soul to turn to
God, and should I be imprisoned with my friends I may be a comfort to
them. But bear my love and blessing to Nigel, should I be destined
never again to see him."
At length Tecumah, finding that the minister was firm, set off, keeping
himself concealed as much as possible among the trees, and made his way
to his canoe. He had scarcely pushed off from the shore, when he saw
several people rushing down to the beach. They had, he guessed rightly,
been sent to capture him. There was no boat near at hand or they would
have pursued him, though had they done so, his light canoe would quickly
have left them astern.
On landing, he found his father and several other chiefs. He narrated
to them what had occurred, but, greatly to his disappointment, he found
that they objected to do anything which might put an end to the
peaceable terms on which they had hitherto lived with the French. They
had seen how the Portuguese treated the Indians who opposed them, and
they dreaded, they said, the vengeance of the white men.
Tecumah was indignant. The white men who now were in the ascendency
were no longer deserving of their friendship, he argued. By treachery
and deceit they had overcome those who were their proper leaders, and
they were even now about to put them to a cruel death. Tuscarora was
grieved that his son's friends should suffer; but he could not for their
sakes risk the safety of his tribe. Again Tecumah addressed them with
all the eloquence of which he was master. "If," he observed, "they were
treacherous towards their own people, they would surely be more likely
to ill-treat their dark-skinned allies should it at any time be to their
interest to do so, and it would be better to strike a blow at once and
prevent them from doing harm, rather than allow them, after they had cut
off all those who were worthy of confidence, to destroy us." Tecumah
saw that he was winning many to his side, and persevered. At length one
of the chiefs proposed that he should be allowed to go over with a
select body of men, and rescue the prisoners.
To this Tuscarora agreed, and Tecumah was obliged to content himself
with this plan, trusting that no harm would be done in the mean time to
the count and his daughter.
Some hours had passed when, as Tecumah was eagerly waiting on the beach
for the moment fixed for the expedition to set out, he saw a canoe
paddling down the harbour. He recognised it as one of those sent up the
estuary to keep watch and to give timely notice of the approach of an
enemy. As the occupant leapt on shore, he exclaimed--
"Haste! haste! The Portuguese and Tuparas, and several other tribes in
alliance with them, are on the war-path. They have hundreds of canoes,
and they will soon after nightfall attack the island unless they first
land and try to destroy us."