SAVED.
Captain Morgan had sent word from Jamaica, whither he had gone after the
taking of Panama, that he might be expected in a few days at St.
Catherine, as he was going to fortify it against any future attack of
the Spaniards. The Captain had taken the lion's share of the booty,
and, finding the loud murmurs of the men to be more than disagreeable,
he set sail one evening and left the fleet to do as it thought best.
Still, he was anxious to get back to St. Catherine to conclude his
ransoms, and Sieur Simon had been instructed to watch closely that none
of the prisoners escaped. What was, then, Simon's rage at finding that
not only Carlo, but that young viper, as he called him, Harry Fenn, had
escaped in the night, and that Andreas the Indian had carried out the
whole plan. Unfortunately, the negro whom Andreas had trusted had turned
informer, fearing when the Indian came back he might suffer punishment.
The negro only escaped instant hanging by promising to betray Andreas on
his return, and the better to secure this he was to meet him and tell
him nothing had been discovered. 'As to the hiding-place of the
vipers,' said Simon,' a little of the rack will make the Indian disclose
it; for if Captain Morgan comes and finds out the truth he may make me
answerable.' To vent his wrath on some one, Simon marched up into the
presence of the ladies and told them all he knew, and his future
intentions. He forbade them ever to leave the two rooms set apart for
them, placed guards in the corridor, and one below the window to which
Carlo and Harry had obtained access. There seemed no hope now left them
of escape, and they could only wait most anxiously for any scrap of news
which might leak out through the very ill-tempered guards Simon had
placed near them. Etta alone would not give in to low spirits: she felt
sure that Andreas would return and would let them know; and as she could
not go and watch by the window in the corridor as formerly, she kept a
good lookout from the sitting-room verandah. She was indeed the
sunshine of the party; for Felipa had drooped again now that Carlo was
gone, and Dona Elena was hardly equal to more exertion and
disappointment. Catalina would speak of the good old time when she had
first come to the island, and when Felipa had been treated as became her
rank. She even began to turn against Etta, as being of the same race as
the hated Morgan. But Etta would not despair nor give up hope; and so
it happened that one day at sundown she heard Andreas' soft whistle
below.
'Felipa, dear Felipa, listen: that is Andreas! There! Did I not say he
would come back? It is so dark that I cannot see him. What shall we
do, Dona Elena? for the good man will not understand he must not come up
here.'
They all crept on to the balcony now and listened intently, but the
sound died away; and just as they were beginning again to despair there
was a knock at the door and the negro Coca entered, bowing very humbly
before them as he presented a letter to Dona Elena.
'Andreas is not able to come himself, lady, but he sends letter, and
wants answer.'
Dona Elena opened the parchment quickly; but Etta, who was looking on,
said hurriedly:
'How did the guards let you pass if they will not allow Andreas to have
speech with us?'
'I was very cunning, Senorita: I said that I had great news to give the
Senora.'
Etta, still puzzled, listened to the words of the note, which Dona Elena
translated into French so that the negro should not understand.
'The Senor Carlo and the Senor Harry are safe. They have found the
noble father. I cannot see you yet. God protect you!
'ANDREAS.'
'Andreas waits for answer,' said the negro.
'Do not send one, Dona Elena,' cried Etta quickly, in spite of herself
suspecting some plot; for what answer should Andreas require? He could
hear for himself that they were safe, but Felipa said pettishly:
'Nay but, dear aunt, send him word that he must get us delivered from
this prison; I am weary of being shut up.'
Dona Elena, thinking of no harm, yielded; and soon the negro retired,
grinning as he again bowed low.
'I never can like those black creatures,' said Catalina, turning up her
nose in disgust. 'Indians are all very well; but negroes--no, no,
Senora, you should never trust a negro.'
'Nonsense, Catalina! My dear husband said it was because we treated the
negroes so badly that they were sometimes treacherous. Alas! we
Spaniards have much to answer for in that respect.'
Catalina was not convinced, and kept on muttering that Andreas might be
trusted because his colour was brown, but that black was the colour of
the Evil One. Could she have seen what was going on below she might,
perhaps, have made even the enlightened Senora agree with her. The
negro had taken the note straight to the Sieur Simon, and in a few
minutes more Andreas was seized and dragged into his presence, and
confronted with it. The Indian saw that the negro had betrayed his
trust, and, setting his teeth tight together, he stood before his enemy
silent and brave.
'Tell me, dog of an Indian, where thou hast been, and where thou hast
hidden those young whelps,' said Simon, angrily. But Andreas was not
going to tell him.
'As well answer, for I know everything; the negro has told me; and if
thou ownest thy fault I will forgive thee,' said Simon. But Andreas
felt sure this was a trap: no one knew the retreat of Senor Carlo--no
one at least at St. Catherine.
'Come, my men, here is a dumb dog: see if a little torture will worm out
the secret.'
We must draw the veil over the horrible torments which noble Andreas
endured. It was a cruel age, but the desperate men who had broken loose
from their country, their religion, and their laws outdid all the
cruelties of the age, and fancied because the poor defenceless Indians
could not now revenge themselves they were fair game. When nature could
bear no more, and the half-dead man was thrown into a dungeon, not a
word having been extracted from him, Sieur Simon was rather sorry he had
ordered the torturers to go on to such a length, for now it was doubtful
if he could ever get any information from him, and he had been told that
Andreas knew many valuable secrets which would now most likely die with
him.
That night the pirates had a long carousal, because they knew that next
day Captain Morgan was expected back, and when he came the good things
generally disappeared; so Sieur Simon suddenly bethought himself that
most likely there must be treasure hidden away somewhere or other in
Santa Teresa. He dared not touch Dona Elena or Felipa--they were able
to pay rich ransoms; but his mind turned at once to Etta, the English
girl, who was, of course, merely a slave of the Marquis. Yes, she might
know, and if--well, if--anything happened to her, no one would care
much, and certainly no one would inquire, except Captain Morgan, who had
said the English girl was to be cared for; but he would not grieve much
about any one who could not bring him in any money.
'Go up, Nat Salt,' he said to an Englishman 'and fetch down that English
wench. I would wager a goblet of wine that she knows where the old
Marquis kept his treasures.'
'By'r laykin,' said Nat Salt, 'that little cinder witch was rather a
favourite with the Captain. It'll not be safe to meddle with her
over-much.'
'Nay, I will but make her feel the rope trick round her wrist, and I'll
pledge you a flagon of red wine we shall then know all she does.'
'There'll be naught more, then, Sieur Simon, or I would rather not
meddle in it; the Captain now and then loses his temper over a mighty
small affair.'
'My word as a brother,' said Simon, using the term by which pirates
called each other when they were in a good temper.
Nat knew that even Simon would not break his oath, but he said the
morning would be more convenient for Etta's examination; so that the
poor girl fell asleep without dreaming what was in store for her the
next day.
Once again Etta was to go down into the great hall, where now only Sieur
Simon was sitting, and she was to be tried in a far harder way even than
by hunger. When the man called Nat Salt came to fetch her, Felipa
seemed to guess that something was the matter, for she clung to her
friend, crying out:
'Don't take Etta away. Catalina, Aunt Elena, don't let the wicked man
take her. Why is she to go?'
'Prithee, young madam, don't take it to heart; this English girl is but
wanted to answer a few questions.' But Etta, though pale, would not
show any fear even while her heart sank within her.
'I will follow you an you touch me not,' she said, raising her fair head
loftily.
'In truth I'll not touch thee, young one,' said Nat Salt, who had a
curiously soft heart, considering what he had seen and done. 'Come
then, it will not be ten minutes' work. But mind! don't go acting the
dumb dog before that Frenchman; I'fecks, he's as hard as a millstone on
man, woman, or child--Morgan's an angel to him.'
As they passed out the two soldiers guarding the door stared hard at the
girl, who walked by Nat's side as if she were a princess.
'There's a bit of sunshine in the wench's hair,' said one of them, 'but
it will go hard with her if she is to get into the hands of the dragon.'
Poor Etta! it was to go hard with her.
'Come, child, make haste and tell me what I ask, and then you can go
back to your friends,' said Simon. 'Where did the Marquis hide his gold
before Morgan landed? He must surely have been busy over that work.'
Etta lifted her pretty head, and gazed at the Frenchman with indignant
blue eyes.
'As if I should tell the secrets of the Marquis to you!' she said
quickly.
'Ah! so you are not going to tell--for of course you know?' and he
laughed softly.
'English girls don't tell tales,' said Etta.
'Well, we'll see. Come, Nat, where's the rope? A little pressure on the
wrists acts to the tongue like oil to rusty hinges.'
Etta saw the rope, and some of her courage forsook her. She tried to
run past Nat, but with one stride he caught her, and, twisting the rope
round both her wrists in a peculiar fashion, he began pulling the noose
tight, then tighter. Etta shut her eyes and thought of Carlo and of
Harry. She knew the Marquis had hidden some of the gold in an old well,
under the flags of the inner courtyard, but she did not mean to tell.
God helping her, she would not be a traitor.
'Now,' said Simon, 'draw it tight, Nat, and see if that won't make her
speak. Where is the gold, girl? Quick, and you shall be released.
One, two--where? Pull tighter, Nat.'
Etta, in spite of herself, uttered a scream, shrill and piercing, which
made Simon laugh.
'I thought the bird would pipe to some tune. Come, Nat, a little
tighter. Where is the gold?'
'It is not mine: how can I tell? I won't! no, I won't! It's Carlo's
money if his father is dead. Oh!' She struggled to get away, but this
only increased her agony.
'One, two, three; it will hurt more yet if you don't speak.'
'Come, tell Sieur Simon, wench. You'll not see the Marquis till
Martinmas, if then, so you needn't be afraid of him.'
Another pull, another sharp agony, and Etta felt that she could bear no
more, when suddenly there was a rush into the hall of some half-dozen
men, all shouting and tumbling over each other, and looking scared out
of their lives.
Nat immediately let go Etta in sheer astonishment, whilst Simon seized
hold of the foremost man and asked him roughly what was the matter.
'I'faith, Captain, you may well ask; there's not a minute to spare.
There's a great man-of-war flying the English colours bearing down on us
and on the two ships in the bay, which have but some half-dozen men in
them.'
'Where's the powder?' cried another; 'the look-out man must have
deserted. Gramercy! let's get out of this gruesome hole, for the walls
have never been rebuilt, and we handful of men can't hold it.'
'Then we'll put you idle fellows to stop the breach,' cried Simon,
angrily. 'Here, Nat, haste and warn the rest of the garrison. We must
get down to the beach and prevent their landing. The forts are useless,
and that coxcomb Morgan dropped the guns into the sea before he left.'
In another moment all was confusion, and the men had scattered hither
and thither. Etta had suddenly recovered her presence of mind as soon
as her great pain had ceased; in a moment she understood the situation.
She now ran as quickly as she could up another passage towards the
sitting-room. On the way she met the two guards, who, having just heard
the news, were running helter-skelter over each other to get down to the
courtyard and join their companions.
'There's a man-o'-war bearing down on us! Marry! there'll not be a man
Jack of us left alive!'
Etta found that the confusion had spread everywhere; for as she rushed
into the dwelling-room no one prevented her.
'Catalina! Felipa! free me; prithee cut this dreadful rope. There's an
English man-of-war in sight; and if only it will put in we are saved.'
'My poor child!' said Dona Elena, with tears in her eyes; for, the rope
being cut, the deep red gashes round Etta's wrists told plainly what she
had suffered. But Etta was now too much excited to feel any pain. She
knew that immediate action was necessary; if only she could find Andreas
perhaps he would put off to the ship in his canoe. But where was he?
She went to the balcony, as no one was guarding it now, and whistled the
Indian's tune; but there was no answer.
Catalina and Dona Elena, on their side, went to the window that
commanded the bay; and there, sure enough, could be seen the big
man-of-war slowly approaching, and so great was the panic among the
pirates, who were only expecting Captain Morgan, that there was a
furious rush for the boats; believing, as they did, that the Marquis was
on board, and that on his landing not one of them would be spared.
In the meanwhile Santa Teresa was almost deserted, except by the slaves;
and to one of these Etta addressed herself as to where she could find
Andreas, and was led to the black-hole, where the poor fellow lay only
just conscious.
'Andreas! dear Andreas!' sobbed Etta. 'Those cruel men--what have they
done to you? But we are saved now. Catalina shall come and nurse you.
Say you are not suffering! Lack-a-day!'
Old Pedro, who had managed successfully to trim his sails, now ran up,
exclaiming:
'Thank God! thank God! Senora, the pirates are running off as if a
thousand devils were at their heels. They say the Marquis is on board
the man-of-war, but I know not; anyhow, let's secure our own gates. Ah!
poor Andreas had better have told all he knew; I did, and managed to
keep a whole skin.'
'Then, Pedro, take a boat and go and tell the Captain that he must come
and take us away, and that I know where Senor Carlo and the English lad
are hidden. Andreas, look up; tell me, are you in pain?'
But before Catalina or any one else could come, Andreas smiled happily,
tried to speak; then, with a gentle sigh, he died. He had understood
that those he had died for were saved, and that reward was enough for
him.
Before long St. Catherine was rid of the pirates, for the man-of-war had
brought with it, not Don Estevan del Campo, but the new Governor of
Jamaica, who came to dispossess the former Governor who had abetted the
pirates; for King Charles of England was now sending strict orders that
no buccaneer was to be allowed to set forth from Jamaica to commit any
hostility upon the Spanish nation or any of the people of these islands,
and on his way to Jamaica the new Governor wished to sweep clean of its
pirates the little island of St. Catherine.