CHAPTER XXVIII.

"His flight was madness."

_Macbeth._

Yes, Virginia! She who had so much reason for consolation herself,

forgot her own sorrows for the time, in administering the oil of

consolation to the poor, wounded, broken-hearted savage girl. She had

been sitting at the window of the little parlour, where she could

witness the whole scene, and hear the whole interview between the

Governor and Hansford; and oh! how her heart had sunk within her as she

heard the harsh sentence of the stern old knight, which condemned her

noble, friendless lover to imprisonment, perhaps to death; and yet, a

maiden modesty restrained her from yielding to the impulse of the

moment, to throw herself at the feet of Berkeley, confess her love, and

implore his pardon. Alas! ill-fated maiden, it would have been in

vain--as she too truly, too fatally discovered afterwards.

The extraordinary appearance and conduct of Mamalis broke up for the

present any further conference with Berkenhead, who--his mendacity

having established his innocence in the minds of the loyalists--walked

off with a swaggering gait, rather elated than otherwise with the result

of his interview. Alfred Bernard followed him until they turned an angle

of the house, and stood beneath the shade of one of the broad oaks,

which spread its protecting branches over the yard.

Meantime the Governor, with such of his council as had attended him to

Windsor Hall, retired to the study of the old Colonel, which had been

fitted up both for the chamber of his most distinguished guest and for

the deliberations of the council. The subject which now engaged their

attention was one of more importance than any that had ever come before

them since the commencement of the dissensions in Virginia. The mission

of Hansford, while it had failed of producing the effect which he so

ardently desired, had, notwithstanding, made a strong impression upon

the mind of the Governor. He saw too plainly that it would be vain to

resist the attack of Bacon, at the head of five hundred men, among whom

were to be ranked the very chivalry of Virginia; while his own force

consisted merely of his faithful adherents in the council, and about

fifty mercenary troops, whose sympathies with the insurgents were

strongly suspected.

"I see," said the old man, gloomily, as he took his seat at the

council-board, "that I must seek some other refuge. I am hunted like a

wild beast from place to place, through a country that was once my own,

and by those who were once the loving subjects of my king."

"Remain here!" said the impulsive old Temple. "The people of Gloucester

will yet rally around your standard, when they see open treason is

contemplated; and should they still refuse, zounds, we may yet offer

resistance with my servants and slaves."

"My dear friend," said Berkeley, sorrowfully, "if all Virginians were

like yourself, there would have been no rebellion--there would have been

no difficulty in suppressing one, if attempted. But alas! the loyalty of

the people of Gloucester has already been weighed in the balance and

found wanting. No, I have acted hastily, foolishly, blindly. I have

warmed this serpent into life by my forbearance and indulgence, and must

at last be the victim of its venom and my folly. Oh! that I had refused

the commission, which armed this traitor with legal power. I have put a

sword into the hands of an enemy, and may be the first to fall by it."

"It is useless to repine over the past," said Philip Ludwell, kindly;

"but the power of these rebels cannot last long. The people who are

loyal at heart will fall from their support, and military aid will be

received from England ere long. Then the warmed reptile may be crushed."

"To my mind," said Ballard, "it were better to repair the evil that has

been done by retracing our steps, rather than to proceed further. When a

man is over his depth, he had better return to the shore than to attempt

to cross the unfathomable stream."

"Refrain from enigmas, if you please," said Berkeley, coldly, "and tell

me to what you refer."

"Simply," replied Ballard, firmly, "that all this evil has resulted from

your following the jesuitical counsel of a boy, rather than the prudent

caution of your advisers. My honoured sir, forgive me if I say it is now

your duty to acquiesce in the request of Major Hansford, and withdraw

your proclamation."

"And succumb to traitors!" cried Berkeley. "Never while God gives me

breath to reiterate it. He who would treat with a traitor, is himself

but little better than a traitor."

The flush which mounted to the brow of Ballard attested his indignation

at this grave charge; but before he had time to utter the retort which

rose to his lips, Berkeley added,

"Forgive me, Ballard, for my haste. But the bare idea of making terms

with these audacious rebels roused my very blood. No, no! I can die in

defence of my trust, but I cannot, will not yield it."

"But it is not yielding," said Ballard.

"Nay--no more of that," interrupted Berkeley; "let us devise some other

means. I have it," he added, after a pause. "Accomac is still true to

my interest, and divided from the mainland by the bay, is difficult of

access. There will I pitch my tent, and sound my defiance--and when aid

shall come from England, these proud and insolent traitors shall feel

the power of my vengeance the more for this insult to my weakness."

This scheme met with the approbation of all present, with the exception

of old Ballard, who shook his head, and muttered, that he hoped it might

all be for the best. And so it was determined that early the next

morning the loyal refugees should embark on board a vessel then lying

off Tindal's Point, and sail for Accomac.

"And we will celebrate our departure by hanging up that young rogue,

Hansford, in half an hour," said Berkeley.

"By what law, may it please your excellency?" asked Ballard, surprised

at this threat.

"By martial law."

"And for what offence?"

"Why zounds, Ballard, you have turned advocate-general for all the

rebels in the country," said Berkeley, petulantly.

"No, Sir William, I am advocating the cause of justice and of my king."

"Well, sir, what would you advise? To set the rogue at liberty, I

suppose, and by our leniency to encourage treason."

"By no means," said Ballard. "But either to commit him to custody until

he may be fairly tried by a jury of his peers, or to take him with you

to Accomac, where, by further developments of this insurrection, you may

better judge of the nature of his offence."

"And a hospitable reception would await me in Accomac, forsooth, if I

appeared there with a prisoner of war, whom I did not have the firmness

to punish as his crime deserves. No, by heaven! I will not be encumbered

with prisoners. His life is forfeit to the law, and as he would prove

an apostle of liberty, let him be a martyr to his cause."

"Let me add my earnest intercession to that of Colonel Ballard," said

Temple, "in behalf of this unhappy man. I surely have some claim upon

your benevolence, and I ask his life as a personal boon to me."

"Oh, assuredly, since you rely upon your hospitable protection to us,

you should have your fee," said Berkeley, with a sneer. "But not in so

precious a coin as a rebel's life. If you have suffered by the

protection afforded to the deputy of your king, you shall not lack

remuneration. But the coin shall be the head of Carolus II.;[42] this

rebel's head I claim as my own."

"Now, by heaven!" returned Temple, thoroughly aroused, "it requires all

my loyalty to stomach so foul an insult. My royal master's exchequer

could illy remunerate me for the gross language heaped upon me by his

deputy. But let this pass. You are my guest, sir; and that I cannot

separate the Governor from the man, I am prevented from resenting an

insult, which else I could but little brook."

"As you please, mine host," replied Berkeley. "But, in truth, I have

wronged you, Temple. But think, my friend, of the pang the shepherd must

feel, when he finds that he has let a wolf into his fold, which he is

unable to resist. Oh, think of this, and bear with me!"

Temple knew the old Governor too well to doubt the sincerity of this

retraxit, and with a cordial grasp of the hand, he assured Berkeley of

his forgiveness. "And yet," he added, warmly, "I cannot forget the cause

I advocate, for this first rebuff. Believe me, Sir William, you will

gain nothing, but lose much, by proceeding harshly against this unhappy

young man. In the absence of any evidence of his guilt, you will arouse

the indignation of the colonists to such a height, that it will be

difficult to pacify them."

"Pardon me, Sir William Berkeley," said Bernard, who had joined the

party, "but would it not be well to examine this knave, Berkenhead,

touching the movements and intentions of the insurgents, and

particularly concerning any expressions which may have fallen from this

young gentleman? If it shall appear that he is guiltless of the crime

imputed to him, then you may safely yield to the solicitations of these

gentlemen, and liberate him. But if it shall appear that he is guilty,

they, in their turn, cannot object to his meeting the penalty which his

treason richly deserves."

"Now, by heaven, the young man speaks truthfully and wisely," said

Temple, assured, by the former interview with Berkenhead, that he knew

of nothing which could convict the prisoner. "Nor do I see, Sir William,

what better course you can adopt than to follow his counsel."

"Truly," said Berkeley, "the young man has proven himself the very Elihu

of counsellors. 'Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged

understand judgment. But there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration

of the Almighty giveth them understanding.' Yet I fear, Colonel Temple,

you will scarcely, after my impetuosity just now, deem me a Job for

patience, though Alfred may be an Elihu for understanding. Your counsel

is good, young man. Let the knave be brought hither to testify, and look

ye that the prisoner be introduced to confront him. My friends, Ballard

and Temple, are such sticklers for law, that we must not deviate from

Magna Charta or the Petition of Right. But stay, we will postpone this

matter till the morrow. I had almost forgotten it was the Sabbath. Loyal

churchmen should venerate the day, even when treason is abroad in the

land. Meantime, let the villain Berkenhead be kept in close custody,

lest he should escape."

FOOTNOTES:

[42] The coin during the reign of Charles II.

Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion · 第 28 / 49 章