"Yet, though dull hate as duty should be taught,
I know that thou wilt love me; though my name
Should be shut from thee, as a spell still fraught
With desolation,--and a broken claim;
Though the grave closed between us, 'twere the same."
_Childe Harold._
The daylight had entirely disappeared, and the broad disc of the full
September moon was just appearing above the eastern horizon, when Bacon
and his followers resumed their march. Each of the captive ladies was
placed upon a horse, behind one of the officers, whose heavy riding
cloak was firmly girt to the horse's back, to provide a more comfortable
seat. Thus advancing, at a constant, but slow pace, to accommodate the
wearied soldiers, they pursued their onward course toward Jamestown. It
was Bacon's object to arrive before the town as early as possible in the
night, so as to secure the completion of their intrenchments and
breastworks before the morning, when he intended to commence the siege.
And now, as they are lighted on their way by the soft rays of the
autumnal moon, let us hear the conversation which was passing between
one of the cavaliers and his fair companion, as they rode slowly along
at some distance from the rest.
We may well suppose that Thomas Hansford, forced thus reluctantly to
engage in a policy from which his very soul revolted, would not commit
the charge of Virginia's person to another. She, at least, should learn,
that though so brutally impressed into the service of the rebel army,
there was an arm there to shield her from danger and protect her from
rudeness or abuse. She, at least, should learn that there was one heart
there, however despised and spurned by others, which beat in its every
throb for her safety and happiness.
Riding, as we have said, a little slower than the rest, so as to be a
little out of hearing, he said, in a low voice, tremulous with half
suppressed emotion, "Miss Temple cannot be ignorant of who her companion
is?"
"Your voice assures me," replied Virginia, "that my conjecture is right,
and that I am in the presence of one who was once an honoured friend.
But had your voice and form changed as entirely as your heart, I could
never have recognized in the rebel who scruples not to insult a
defenceless woman, the once gallant and chivalrous Hansford."
"And do you, can you believe that my heart has indeed so thoroughly
changed?"
"I would fain believe so, else I am forced to the conclusion that I
have, all my life, been deceived in a character which I deemed worthy of
my love, while it was only the more black because it was hypocritical."
"Virginia," said Hansford, with desperation, "you shall not talk thus;
you shall not think thus of me."
"As my captor and jailer," returned the brave hearted young maiden, "Mr.
Hansford may, probably, by force, control the expression of my
opinions--but thank God! not even you can control my thoughts. The mind,
at least, is free, though the body be enslaved."
"Nay, do not mistake my meaning, dear Virginia," said her lover. "But
alas! I am the victim of misconstruction. Could you, for a moment,
believe that I was capable of an act which you have justly described as
unmanly and unchivalrous?"
"What other opinion can I have?" said Virginia. "I find you acting with
those who are guilty of an act as cowardly as it is cruel. I find you
tacitly acquiescing in their measures, and aiding in guarding and
conducting their unhappy captives--and I received from you a message in
which you pretend to say that you can justify that which is at once
inexcusable before heaven, and in the court of man's honour. Forgive me,
if I am unable to separate the innocent from the guilty, and if I fail
to see that your conduct is more noble in this attempt to shift the
consequences of your crime upon your confederates."
"Now, by Heaven, you wrong me!" returned Hansford. "My message to you
was mistaken by Captain Wilford. I never said I could justify your
capture; I charged him to tell you I could justify myself. And as for my
being found with those who have committed this unmanly act, as well
might you be deemed a participator in their actions now, because of your
presence here. I remonstrated, I protested against such a course--and
when at last adopted I denounced it as unworthy of men, and far more
unworthy of soldiers and freemen."
"And yet, when overwhelmed by the voices of others, you quietly
acquiesce, and remain in companionship with those whose conduct you had
denounced."
"What else could I do?" urged Hansford. "My feeble arm could not resist
the action of two hundred-men; and it only remained for me to continue
here, that I might secure the safety and kind treatment of those who
were the victims of this rude violence. Alas! how little did I think
that so soon you would be one of those unhappy victims, and that my
heart would deplore, for its own sake, a course from which my judgment
and better nature already revolted."
The scales fell from Virginia's eyes. She now saw clearly the bitter
trial through which her lover had been called to pass, and recognized
once more the generous, self-denying nature of Hansford. The stain upon
his pure fame, to use her own figure, was but the effect of the false
and deceptive lens through which she had looked, and now that she saw
clearly, it was restored to its original purity and beauty.
"And is this true, indeed?" she said, in a happy voice. "Believe me,
Hansford, the relief which I feel at this moment more than compensates
for all that I have endured. The renewed assurance of your honour atones
for all. Can you forgive me for harbouring for a moment a suspicion that
you were aught but the soul of honour?"
"Forgive you, dearest?" returned Hansford. "Most freely--most fully! But
scarcely can I forgive those who have so wronged you. Cast in a common
lot with them, and struggling for a common cause, I cannot now withdraw
from their association; and indeed, Virginia, I will be candid, and tell
you freely that I would not if I could."
"Alas!" said Virginia, "and what can be the result of your efforts.
Sooner or later aid must come from England, and crush a rebellion whose
success has only been ephemeral. And what else can be expected or
desired, since we have already seen how lost to honour are those by whom
it is attempted. Would you wish, if you could, to subject your country
to the sway of men, who, impelled only by their own reckless passions,
disregard alike the honour due from man and the respect due to woman?"
"You mistake the character of these brave men, Virginia. I believe
sincerely that General Bacon was prompted to this policy by a real
desire to prevent the unnecessary loss of life; and though this humanity
cannot entirely screen his conduct from reprehension, yet it may cast a
veil over it. Bold and reckless though he be, his powerful mind is
swayed by many noble feelings; and although he may commit errors, they
nearly lose their grossness in his ardent love of freedom, and his
exalted contempt of danger."
"His love of freedom, I presume, is illustrated by his forcible capture
of unprotected females," returned Virginia; "and his contempt of danger,
by his desire to interpose his captives between himself and the guns of
his enemies."
"I have told you," said Hansford, "that this conduct is incapable of
being justified, and in this I grant that Bacon has grievously erred."
"Then why continue to unite your fortunes to a man whose errors are so
gross and disgraceful, and whose culpable actions endanger your own
reputation with your best friends?"
"Because," said Hansford, proudly, "we are engaged in a cause, in the
full accomplishment of which the faults and errors of its champion will
be forgotten, and ransomed humanity will learn to bless his name,
scarcely less bright for the imperfections on its disc."
"Your reasoning reminds me," said Virginia, "of the heretical sect of
Cainites, of whom my father once told me, who exalted even Judas to a
hero, because by his treason redemption was effected for the world."
"Well, my dear girl," replied Hansford, "you maintain your position most
successfully. But since you quote from the history of the Church, I will
illustrate my position after the manner of a sage old oracle of the law.
Sir Edward Coke once alluded to the fable, that there was not a bird
that flitted through the air, but contributed by its donations to
complete the eagle's nest. And so liberty, whose fittest emblem is the
eagle, has its home provided and furnished by many who are unworthy to
enjoy the home which they have aided in preparing. Admit even, if you
please, that General Bacon is one of these unclean birds, we cannot
refuse the contribution which he brings in aid of the glorious cause
which we maintain."
"Aye, but he is like, with his vaulting ambition, to be the eagle
himself," returned Virginia; "and to say truth, although I have great
confidence in your protection, I feel like a lone dove in his talons,
and would wish for a safer home than in his eyrie."
"You need fear no danger, be assured, dearest Virginia," said Hansford,
"either for yourself or your mother. It is a part of his plan to send
one of the ladies under our charge into the city, to apprise the
garrison of our strange manoeuvre; and I have already his word, that
your mother and yourself will be the bearers of this message. In a few
moments, therefore, your dangers will be past, and you will once more be
in the arms of your noble old father."
"Oh thanks, thanks, my generous protector," cried the girl, transported
at this new prospect of her freedom. "I can never forget your kindness,
nor cease to regret that I could ever have had a doubt of your honour
and integrity."
"Oh forget that," returned Hansford, "or remember it only that you may
acknowledge that it is often better to bear with the circumstances which
we cannot control, than by hasty opposition to lose the little influence
we may possess with those in power. But see the moonlight reflected from
the steeple of yonder church. We are within sight of Jamestown, and you
will be soon at liberty. And oh! Virginia," he said sorrowfully, "if it
should be decreed in the book of fate, that when we part to-night we
part forever, and if the name of Hansford be defamed and vilified, you
at least, I know, will rescue his honour from reproach--and one tear
from my faithful Virginia, shed upon a patriot's grave, will atone for
all the infamy which indignant vengeance may heap upon my name."
So saying, he spurred his horse rapidly onward, until he overtook Bacon,
who, with the precious burden under his care, as usual, led the way. And
a precious burden it might well be called, for by the light of the moon
the reader could have no difficulty in recognizing in the companion of
the young general of the insurgents, our old acquaintance, Mrs. Temple.
In the earlier part of their journey she had by no means contributed to
the special comfort of her escort--now, complaining bitterly of the
roughness of the road, she would grasp him around the waist with both
arms, until he was in imminent peril of falling from his horse, and then
when pacified by a smoother path and an easier gait, she would burst
forth in a torrent of invective against the cowardly rebels who would
misuse a poor old woman so. Bacon, however, while alike regardless of
her complaints of the road, the horse, or himself, did all in his power
to mollify the old lady, by humouring her prejudices as well as he
could; and when he at last informed her of the plan by which she and her
daughter would so soon regain their liberty, her temper relaxed, and she
became highly communicative. She was, indeed, deep in a description of
some early scenes of her life, and was telling how she had once seen the
bonnie young Charley with her own eyes, when he was hiding from the
pursuit of the Roundheads, and how he commended her loyalty, and above
all her looks; and promised when he came to his own to bestow a peerage
on her husband for his faithful adherence to the cause of his king. The
narrative had already lasted an hour or more when Hansford and Virginia
rode up and arrested the conversation, much to the relief of Bacon, who
was gravely debating in his own mind whether it was more agreeable to
hear the good dame's long-winded stories about past loyalty, or to
submit to her vehement imprecations on present rebellion.
The young general saluted Virginia courteously as she approached,
expressing the hope that she had not suffered from her exposure to the
night air, and then turned to Hansford, and engaged in conversation with
him on matters of interest connected with the approaching contest.
But as his remarks will be more fully understood, and his views
developed in the next chapter, we forbear to record them here. Suffice
it to say, that among other things it was determined, that immediately
upon their arrival before Jamestown, Mrs. Temple and Virginia, under the
escort of Hansford, should be conducted to the gate of the town, and
convey to the Governor and his adherents the intelligence of the capture
of the wives of the loyalists. We will only so far anticipate the
regular course of our narrative as to say, that this duty was performed
without being attended with any incident worthy of special remark; and
that Hansford, bidding a sad farewell to Virginia and her mother,
committed them to the care of the sentinel at the gate, and returned
slowly and sorrowfully to the insurgent camp.