STRANGELY LIBERATED.
Just as the sun was disappearing behind Lake Taupo, the captives were
led back to their prison. They were not to leave it again until the
summit of the Wahiti mountains should kindle with the first beams of
the day. One night remained to prepare for death. In spite of the
faintness, in spite of the horror with which they were seized, they
shared their repast in common.
"We shall need all the strength possible to face death," said
Glenarvan. "We must show these barbarians how Europeans and Christians
can die."
The meal being finished, Lady Helena repeated the evening prayer aloud,
while all her companions, with uncovered heads, joined her. Having
fulfilled this duty, and enjoyed this privilege, the prisoners embraced
each other. Lady Helena and Mary Grant then retired to one corner of
the hut, and stretched themselves upon a mat. Sleep, which soothes all
woes, soon closed their eyes, and they slumbered in each other's arms,
overcome by fatigue and long wakefulness.
Glenarvan, taking his friends aside, said:
"My dear companions, our lives and those of these poor ladies are in
God's hands. If Heaven has decreed that we shall die to-morrow, we can,
I am sure, die like brave people, like Christians, ready to appear
fearlessly before the final Judge. God, who does read the secrets of
the soul, knows that we are fulfilling a noble mission. If death awaits
us instead of success, it is his will. However severe his decree may
be, I shall not murmur against it. But this is not death alone; it is
torture, disgrace; and here are two women----"
Glenarvan's voice, hitherto firm, now faltered. He paused to control
his emotion. After a moment's silence, he said to the young captain:
"John, you have promised Mary Grant what I have promised Lady Helena.
What have you resolved?"
"This promise," replied John Mangles, "I believe I have the right in
the sight of God to fulfill."
"Yes, John; but we have no weapons."
"Here is one," answered John, displaying a poniard. "I snatched it from
Kara-Tété's hands when he fell at your feet. My lord, he of us who
survives the other shall fulfill this vow."
At these words a profound silence reigned in the hut. At last the major
interrupted it by saying:
"My friends, reserve this extreme measure till the last moment. I am no
advocate of what is irremediable."
"I do not speak for ourselves," replied Glenarvan. "We can brave
death, whatever it may be. Ah, if we were alone! Twenty times already
would I have urged you to make a sally and attack those wretches. But
_they_----"
[Sidenote: THE APPROACH OF DAY.]
At this moment Captain Mangles raised the mat and counted twenty-five
natives, who were watching at the door of their prison. A great fire
had been kindled, which cast a dismal light over the irregular outlines
of the pah. Some of these savages were stretched around the fire; and
others, standing and motionless, were darkly defined against the bright
curtain of flame.
It is said that, between the jailer who watches and the prisoner who
wishes to escape, the chances are on the side of the latter. Indeed,
the design of one is stronger than that of the other, for the first
may forget that he is guarding, but the second cannot forget that he
is guarded; the captive thinks oftener of escaping than his guardian
thinks of preventing his escape. But here it was hate and vengeance
that watched the prisoners, and not an indifferent jailer. They had not
been bound, for bonds were useless where twenty-five men guarded the
only outlet of the prison.
This hut was built against the rock that terminated the fortification,
and was only accessible by a narrow passage that connected it with the
front of the pah. The other two sides of the building were flanked
by towering precipices, and stood on the verge of an abyss a hundred
feet deep. A descent this way was therefore impossible. There was no
chance of escaping in the rear, which was guarded by the enormous rock.
The only exit was the door of the temple, and the Maoris defended the
narrow passage that connected it with the pah. All escape was therefore
out of the question; and Glenarvan, after examining the walls of his
prison, was forced to acknowledge this disheartening fact.
Meantime, the hours of this night of anguish were passing away. Dense
darkness had covered the mountain. Neither moon nor stars illumined
the deep shades. A few gusts of wind swept along the side of the
pah. The stakes of the hut groaned, the fire of the natives suddenly
revived at this passing draught, and the flames cast rapid flashes
into the temple, illumining for a moment the group of prisoners. These
poor people were absorbed with their last thoughts; a deathly silence
reigned in the hut.
It must have been about four o'clock in the morning, when the major's
attention was attracted by a slight sound that seemed to come from
behind the rear stakes, in the back wall that lay towards the rock. At
first he was indifferent to the noise, but finding that it continued,
he listened. At last, puzzled by its persistence, he put his ear close
to the ground to hear better. It seemed as if some one was scraping and
digging outside.
When he was certain of this fact, he passed quietly towards Glenarvan
and the captain, and led them to the rear of the hut.
"Listen," said he, in a low voice, motioning to them to bend down.
The scrapings became more and more audible. They could hear the little
stones grate under the pressure of a sharp instrument and fall down
outside.
"Some creature in its burrow," said Captain Mangles.
Glenarvan, with bewildered gaze, stood astonished.
"Who knows," said he, "but that it is a man?"
"Man or animal," replied the major, "I will know what is going on."
Wilson and Olbinett joined their companions, and all began to dig in
the wall, the captain with his poniard, the others with stones pulled
out of the ground, or with their nails, while Mulready, stretched on
the earth, watched the group of natives through the loop-hole of the
mat. But they were motionless around the fire, and did not suspect what
was transpiring twenty paces from them.
The soil was loose and crumbling, and lay upon a bed of clay, so that,
in spite of the want of tools, the hole rapidly enlarged. It was soon
evident that somebody, clinging to the sides of the pah, was making a
passage in its outer wall. What could be the object? Did he know of the
existence of the prisoners, or could a mere chance attempt at escape
explain the work that seemed nearly completed?
[Sidenote: HEAVENLY HELP FROM AN EARTHLY HAND.]
The captives redoubled their efforts. Their lacerated fingers bled,
but still they dug on. After half an hour's labor, the hole they were
drilling had reached a depth of three feet. They could perceive by the
sounds, which were now more distinct, that only a thin layer of earth
prevented immediate communication.
A few moments more elapsed, when suddenly the major drew back his hand,
which was cut by a sharp blade. He suppressed a cry that was about to
escape him. Captain Mangles, holding out his poniard, avoided the knife
that was moving out of the ground, but seized the hand that held it.
It was the hand of a woman or a youth, a European hand. Not a word had
been uttered on either side. There was plainly an object in keeping
silent.
"Is it Robert?" murmured Glenarvan.
But, though only whispering this name, Mary Grant, awakened by the
movement that was taking place in the hut, glided towards Glenarvan,
and, seizing this hand all soiled with mud, covered it with kisses.
"It is you! it is you!" cried the young girl, who could not be
mistaken, "you, my Robert!"
"Yes, little sister," replied Robert, "I am here to save you all! But
silence!"
"Brave lad!" repeated Glenarvan.
"Keep watch of the savages outside," continued Robert.
Mulready, whose attention had been diverted for a moment by the
appearance of the hand, resumed his post of observation.
"All is well," said he. "Only four warriors are watching now. The
others have fallen asleep."
"Courage!" replied Wilson.
In an instant the hole was widened, and Robert passed from the arms of
his sister into those of Lady Helena. Around his body was wound a rope
of flax.
"My boy! my boy!" murmured Lady Helena; "these savages did not kill
you?"
"No, madam," replied Robert. "Somehow, during the uproar, I succeeded
in escaping their vigilance. I crossed the yard. For two days I kept
hidden behind the bushes. At night I wandered about, longing to see you
again. While the tribe were occupied with the funeral of the chief,
I came and examined this side of the fortification, where the prison
stands, and saw that I could reach you. I stole this knife and rope
in a deserted hut. The tufts of grass and the bushes helped me to
climb. By chance I found a kind of grotto hollowed out in the very rock
against which this hut rests. I had only a few feet to dig in the soft
earth, and here I am."
Twenty silent kisses were his only answer.
"Let us start," said he, in a decided tone.
"Is Paganel below?" inquired Glenarvan.
"Mr. Paganel?" repeated the boy, surprised apparently at the question.
"Yes; is he waiting for us?"
"No, my lord. What! is he not here?"
"He is not, Robert," replied Mary Grant.
"What! have you not seen him?" exclaimed Glenarvan. "Did you not meet
each other in the confusion? Did you not escape together?"
"No, my lord," answered Robert, at a loss to understand the
disappearance of his friend Paganel.
"Let us start," said the major; "there is not a moment to lose.
Wherever Paganel may be, his situation cannot be worse than ours here.
Let us go."
Indeed, the moments were precious. It was high time to start.
The escape presented no great difficulties, but for the almost
perpendicular wall of rock outside of the grotto, twenty feet high. The
declivity then sloped quite gently to the base of the mountain, from
which point the captives could quickly gain the lower valleys, while
the Maoris, if they chanced to discover their flight, would be forced
to make a very long détour, since they were not aware of the passage
that had been dug in the mountain.
[Illustration: First her husband, and then she, slid down the rope to
the point where the perpendicular wall met the summit of the slope.]
They now prepared to escape, and every precaution was taken to insure
their success. The captives crawled one by one through the narrow
passage, and found themselves in the grotto. Captain Mangles, before
leaving the hut, concealed all traces of their work, and glided in his
turn through the opening, which he closed with the mats. Their outlet
was therefore entirely hidden.
The object now was to descend the perpendicular wall of rock, which
would have been impossible if Robert had not brought the flax rope. It
was unwound, fastened to a point of rock, and thrown over the declivity.
Before allowing his friends to trust their weight to these flaxen
fibres, Captain Mangles tested them. They seemed to be quite strong,
but it would not answer to venture rashly, for a fall might be fatal.
"This rope," said he, "can only bear the weight of two bodies, and we
must therefore act accordingly. Let Lord and Lady Glenarvan slide down
first. When they have reached the bottom, three shakes at the rope will
be the signal to follow them."
"I will go first," replied Robert. "I have discovered at the base of
the slope a sort of deep excavation, where those who descend first can
wait for the others in safety."
"Go then, my boy," said Glenarvan, clasping the boy's hand.
Robert disappeared through the opening of the grotto. A moment after,
three shakes of the rope informed them that he had accomplished his
descent successfully.
Glenarvan and Lady Helena now ventured out of the grotto. The
darkness below was still profound, but the gray light of dawn was
already tinging the top of the mountain. The keen cold of the morning
reanimated the young wife; she felt stronger, and commenced her
perilous escape.
[Sidenote: A PRECIPITATE DESCENT.]
First her husband, and then she, slid down the rope to the point where
the perpendicular wall met the summit of the slope. Then Glenarvan,
going before his wife and assisting her, began to descend the
declivity of the mountain backwards. He sought for tufts of grass and
bushes that offered a point of support, and tried them before placing
Lady Helena's feet upon them. Several birds, suddenly awakened, flew
away with shrill cries, and the fugitives shuddered when a large stone
rolled noisily to the base of the mountain.
They had accomplished half the distance when a voice was heard at the
opening of the grotto.
"Stop!" whispered Captain Mangles.
Glenarvan, clinging with one hand to a tuft of grass and holding his
wife with the other, waited, scarcely breathing.
Wilson had taken alarm. Hearing some noise outside, he had returned to
the hut, and, raising the mat, watched the Maoris. At a sign from him
the captain had stopped Glenarvan.
In truth, one of the warriors, startled by some unaccustomed sound,
had risen and approached the prison. Standing two paces from the
hut, he listened with lowered head. He remained in this attitude
for a moment, that seemed an hour, with ear intent and eye on the
alert. Then, shaking his head as a man who is mistaken, he returned
to his companions, took an armful of dead wood and threw it on the
half-extinct fire, whose flames revived. His face, brightly illumined
by the blaze, betrayed no more anxiety, and, after gazing at the first
glimmers of dawn that tinged the horizon, he stretched himself beside
the fire to warm his cold limbs.
"All right!" said Wilson.
The captain made a sign to Glenarvan to continue his descent. The
latter, accordingly, slid gently down the slope, and soon Lady Helena
and he stood on the narrow path where Robert was waiting for them. The
rope was shaken three times, and next Captain Mangles, followed by Mary
Grant, took the same perilous course. They were successful, and joined
Lord and Lady Glenarvan.
Five minutes later all the fugitives, after their fortunate escape
from the hut, left this temporary retreat, and, avoiding the inhabited
shores of the lake, made their way by narrow paths farther down the
mountain. They advanced rapidly, seeking to avoid all points where they
might be seen. They did not speak, but glided like shadows through the
bushes. Where were they going? At random, it is true, but they were
free.
About five o'clock day began to break. Purple tints colored the lofty
banks of clouds. The mountain peaks emerged from the mists of the
morning. The orb of day would not be long in appearing, and instead of
being the signal for torture, was to betray the flight of the condemned.
Before this dreaded moment arrived it was important that the fugitives
should be beyond the reach of the savages. But they could not advance
quickly, for the paths were steep. Lady Helena scaled the declivities,
supported and even carried by Glenarvan, while Mary Grant leaned upon
the arm of her betrothed. Robert, happy and triumphant, whose heart was
full of joy at his success, took the lead, followed by the two sailors.
For half an hour the fugitives wandered at a venture. Paganel was not
there to guide them,--Paganel, the object of their fears, whose absence
cast a dark shadow over their happiness. However, they proceeded
towards the east as well as possible, in the face of a magnificent
dawn. They had soon reached an elevation of five hundred feet above
Lake Taupo, and the morning air at this altitude was keen and cold.
Hills and mountains rose one above another in indistinct outlines; but
Glenarvan only wished to conceal himself and his companions. Afterwards
they would see about issuing from this winding labyrinth.
[Illustration: They saw, but were also seen.]
At last the sun appeared and flashed his first rays into the faces of
the fugitives. Suddenly a terrible yelling, the concentrated union of a
hundred voices, broke forth upon the air. It rose from the pah, whose
exact position Glenarvan did not now know. Moreover, a thick curtain of
mist stretched at their feet, and prevented them from distinguishing
the valleys below.
But the fugitives could not doubt that their escape had been
discovered. Could they elude the pursuit of the natives? Had they been
perceived? Would their tracks betray them?
At this moment the lower strata of vapor rose, enveloping them for an
instant in a moist cloud, and they discerned, three hundred feet below
them, the frantic crowd of savages.
They saw, but were also seen. Renewed yells resounded, mingled with
barks; and the whole tribe, after vainly endeavoring to climb the rock,
rushed out of the inclosure and hastened by the shortest paths in
pursuit of the prisoners, who fled in terror from their vengeance.