We glided into the shadow of the tree, and passed under its trailing
parasites. The pirogue touched its trunk. Mechanically I climbed along
the sloping buttress--mechanically assisted Aurore.
We stood within the hollow chamber--the lurking-place of the runaway--
and for the present were safe from pursuit. But there was no joy in our
hearts. We knew it was but a respite, without any hope of ultimate
concealment.
The encounter with Ruffin had ruined all our prospects. Whether the
hunter were yet dead or alive, his presence would guide the pursuit.
The way we had got off would easily be conjectured, and our hiding-place
could not long remain undiscovered.
What had passed would be likely to aggravate our pursuers, and
strengthen their determination to capture us. Before Ruffin came up,
there was yet a chance of safety. Most of those engaged in the pursuit
would regard it as the mere ordinary affair of a chase after a runaway
negro--a sport of which they might get tired whenever they should lose
the track. Considering for whom the hunt was got up--a man so unpopular
as Gayarre,--none would have any great interest in the result, excepting
himself and his ruffian aids. Had we left no traces where we embarked
in the pirogue, the gloomy labyrinth of forest-covered water might have
discouraged our pursuers--most of whom would have given up at the
doubtful prospect, and returned to their homes. We might have been left
undisturbed until nightfall, and it was my design to have then recrossed
the lake, landed at some new point, and, under the guidance of the
Bambarra, get back to the Levee Road, where we were to meet D'Hauteville
with the horses. Thence, as originally agreed upon, to the city.
All this programme, I had hastily conceived; and previous to the
appearance of Ruffin, there was every probability I should succeed in
carrying it out.
Even after I had shot the dogs, I did not wholly despair. There were
still many chances of success that occurred to me. The pursuers,
thought I, detained by the bayou, might have lost the dogs, and would
not follow their track so easily. Some time would be wasted at all
events. Even should they form a correct guess as to the fate of the
hounds, neither men afoot nor on horseback could penetrate to our
hiding-place. They would need boats or canoes. More time would be
consumed in bringing these from the river, and perhaps night would be
down before this could be effected. On night and D'Hauteville I still
had confidence.
That was previous to the conflict with the man-hunter.
After that affair, circumstances had undergone a change. Alive or dead,
Ruffin would guide the pursuit to where we were. If still living--and
now that my angry feeling had passed away I hoped he was--he would at
once direct the pursuers upon us.
I believed he was not dead--only wounded. His behaviour, after
receiving the shot, had not been like that of a man mortally wounded. I
believed, and hoped, that he still lived:--not that I felt at all
remorseful at what had happened, but from mere prudential
considerations. If dead, his body by the prostrate tree would soon be
discovered, and would tell the tale to those who came up. We should be
captured all the same, and might expect the more terrible consequences.
The rencontre with this ruffian had been altogether unfortunate. It had
changed the face of affairs. Blood had been spilt _in defence of a
runaway_. The news would return rapidly to the town. It would spread
through the plantations with lightning-speed. The whole community would
be fired and roused--the number of our pursuers quadrupled. I should be
hunted as a _double_ outlaw, and with the hostile energy of vengeance!
I knew all this, and no longer speculated upon the probabilities of
deliverance. There was not the remotest prospect of our being able to
get away.
I drew my betrothed near me. I folded her in my arms, and pressed her
to my heart. Till death she would be mine! She swore it in that
shadowy spot--in that dread and darksome hour. Till death she would be
mine!
Her love inspired me with courage; and with courage I awaited the
result.
Another hour passed.
Despite our fearful anticipations, that hour was pleasantly spent.
Strange it is to say so, but it was in reality one of the happiest hours
I can remember. It was the first time I had been enabled to hold free
converse with Aurore since the day of our betrothal. We were now
alone--for the faithful black stood sentinel below by the hawser of his
pirogue.
The reaction, consequent upon my late jealousy, had kindled my love to a
renewed and fiercer life--for such is the law of nature. In the very
ardour of my affection, I almost forgot our desperate situation.
Over and over again we vowed eternal troth--over and over plighted our
mutual faith, in fond, burning words--the eloquence of our heartfelt
passion. Oh! it was a happy hour!
Alas! it came to an end. It ended with a painful regret, but not with
surprise. I was not surprised to hear horns sounding through the woods,
and signal shouts answering each other in different directions. I was
not surprised when voices came pealing across the water--loud oaths and
ejaculations--mingled with the plashing of paddles and the plunging of
oars; and, when the negro announced that several boats filled with armed
men were in the open water and approaching the tree, it did not take me
by surprise. I had foreseen all this.
I descended to the base of the cypress, and, stooping down, looked out
under the hanging moss. I could see the surface of the lake. I could
see the men in their canoes and skiffs, rowing and gesticulating.
When near the middle of the open water, they lay upon their oars, and
held a short consultation. After a moment they separated, and rowed in
circles around, evidently with the design of encompassing the tree.
In a few minutes they had executed this manoeuvre, and now closed in,
until their vessels floated among the drooping branches of the cypress.
A shout of triumph told that they had discovered our retreat; and I now
saw their faces peering through the curtain of straggling _tillandsia_.
They could see the pirogue, and both the negro and myself standing by
the bow.
"Surrender!" shouted a voice in a loud, firm tone. "If you resist, your
lives be on your own heads!"
Notwithstanding this summons, the boats did not advance any nearer.
They knew that I carried pistols, and that I knew how to handle them--
the proofs, were fresh. They approached, therefore, with caution--
thinking I might still use my weapons.
They had no need to be apprehensive. I had not the slightest intention
of doing so. Resistance against twenty men--for there were that number
in the boats, twenty men well armed--would have been a piece of
desperate folly. I never thought of such a thing; though, if I had, I
believe the Bambarra would have stood by me to the death. The brave
fellow, steeled to a supernatural courage by the prospect of his
punishment, had even proposed fight! But his courage was madness; and I
entreated him not to resist--as they would certainly have slain him on
the spot.