Chapter 18

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_ CHAPTER XVIII

I have seen the same effect when a stone was thrown into a boil of river-rapids; an enhancement and marvellous entanglement of swiftness and fury, and spread of broken circles, which confused the sight at the time and the memory afterwards.

It was but a small body of horse and foot, which charged us whilst we were cutting the tobacco on the plantation of Laurel Creek, but it needed not a large one to put to rout a company so overbalanced by enthusiasm, and cider, and that marvellous greed of destruction. No more than seven gentlemen of us there were to make a stand, and not more than some twenty-five of the rabble to be depended upon.

As for me, the principal thought in my mind when the militia burst upon us, was the safety of Mary Cavendish. Straight to the door of the great house I rushed, and Sir Humphrey Hyde was with me. As for the other gentlemen, they were fighting here and there as they could, Captain Jaynes making efforts to keep the main body of the defenders at his back, but with little avail. I stood against the door of the house, resolved upon but one course--that my dead body should be the threshold over which they crossed to Mary Cavendish. It was but a pitiful resolve, for what could I do single-handed, except for the boy Humphrey Hyde, against so many. But it was all, and a man can but give his all. I knew if the militia were to find Mary and Catherine Cavendish in that house, grave harm might come to them, if indeed it came not already without that. So I stood back against the door which I had previously tried, and found fast, and Sir Humphrey was with me. Then came a hush for a moment whilst the magistrate with Captain Waller, and others sitting on their horses around him, read the Riot Act, and bade us all disperse and repair to our homes, and verily I wonder, if ever there hath been in all the history of England such a farce and mummery as that same Riot Act, and if ever it were read with much effect when a riot were well under way.

Scarcely time they gave the worthy man to finish, and indeed his voice trembled as if he had the ague, and he seemed shrinking for shelter under his big wig, but they drowned out his last words with hisses, then there was a wild rush of the rabble and a cry of "Down with the tobacco!" and "A Bacon, A Bacon!" Then the militia charged, and there were the flashes of swords and partisans and the thunder of firearms.

I stood there, feeling like a deserter from the ranks, yet bound to keep the door of Laurel Creek, and I had a pistol in either hand and so had Sir Humphrey Hyde, but for a minute nobody seemed to heed us. Then as I stood there, I felt the door behind me yield a bit and a hand was thrust out, and a voice whispered, "Harry, Harry, come in hither; we can hold the house against an army."

My heart leapt, for it was Mary, and, quicker than a flash, I had my mind made up. I turned upon Sir Humphrey and thrust him in before he knew it, through the opening of the door, and called out to him to bar and bolt as best he could inside, while I held the door. He, whether he would or not, was in the house, and seeing some of the soldiers riding our way with Captain Waller at their head, was forced to clap to the door, and shoot the bolts, but as he did so I heard a woman's shrill cry of agony ring out.

I stood there, and Captain Waller rode up with his soldiers, and flashing his sword before my face like a streak of fire, bade me surrender in the name of his Majesty, and stand aside. But I stood still with my two pistols levelled, and had him full within range. Captain Waller was a young man, and a brave one, and never to my dying day shall I forget that face which I had the power to still with death. He looked into the muzzles of my two pistols, and his rosy colour never wavered, and he shouted out again to me his command to surrender and stand aside in the name of the King, and I stood still and made no reply. I knew that I could take two lives and then struggle unarmed for perhaps a moment's space, and that all the time saved might be precious for those in the house. At all events, it was all that I could do for Mary Cavendish.

I held my pistols and watched his eyes, knowing well that all action through having its source in the brain of man, gives first evidence in the eyes. Then the time came when I saw his impulse to charge start in his eyes, and I fired, and he fell. Then I fired again, but wildly, for everything was in motion, and I know not whom I hit, if any one, then I felt my own right leg sink under me and I knew that I was hit. Then down on my knees I sank and put one arm through the great latch of the door, and thrust out with my knife with the free hand, and stout arms were at my shoulders striving to drag me away, but they might as well for a time have tried to drag a bar of steel from its fastenings. I thrust out here and there, and I trow my steel drew blood, and I suppose my own flowed, for presently I was kneeling in a widening circle of red. I cut those forcing hands from my arm, and others came. It was one against a multitude, for the rabble after hitting wild blows as often at their friends as at their enemies had broken and fled, except those who were taken prisoners. But the women stayed until the last and fought like wild cats, with the exception of Madam Tabitha Story, who quietly got upon her old horse, and ambled away, and cut down her own tobacco until daybreak, pressing her slaves into service.

As for the other gentlemen, they were fighting as best they could, and all the time striving vainly to gather the mob into a firm body of resistance. None of them saw the plight I was in, nor indeed could have helped me had they done so, since there were but seven gentlemen of us in all, and some by this time wounded, and one dead.

I knelt there upon the ground before the door, slashing out as best I could with one hand, and they closed faster and thicker upon me, and at last I could no more. I felt a stinging pain in my right shoulder, and then for a minute my senses left me. But it was only for a moment.

When I came to myself I was lying bound with a soldier standing guard over me, though there was small need of it, and they were raining battering blows upon the door of Laurel Creek. Somehow they had conceived the idea that there was something of great import therein, by my mad and desperate defence. I know not what they thought, but gradually all the militia were centred at that point striving to force the door. As for the shutters, they were heavily barred, and offered no easier entrance. Indeed the whole house had been strengthened for defence against the Indians before the Bacon uprising, and was near as strong as a fort. It would have been well had we all entered and defended it, though we could not have held out for long, through not being provisioned.

At last Captain Jaynes and the other gentlemen begun to conceive the situation and I caught sight of them forcing their way toward me, and shouted to them with a failing voice, for I had lost much blood, to come nearer and assist me to hold the door. Then I saw Captain Jaynes sink in his saddle, and I caught a glimpse of a mighty retreat of plunging haunches of Parson Downs' horse, and indeed the gist of the blame for it all was afterward put upon the parson's great fiery horse, which it was claimed had run away with him first into the fight, then away from it, such foolish reasons do men love to give for the lapses of the clergy.

As for me, I believe in coming out with the truth about the clergy and laymen, and King and peasant, alike, whether it be Cain or King David, or Parson Downs or his Majesty King Charles the Second.

However, to do the parson justice, he did not fly until he saw the day was lost, and I trow did afterward better service to me than he might have done by staying. As for the burgesses, I know not whither nor when they had gone, for they had melted away like shadows, by reason of the great obloquy which would have attached to them, should men in their high office have been discovered in such work. Ralph Drake was left, who made a push toward me with a hoarse shout, and then he fell, though not severely wounded, and then the soldiers pressed closer. And then I felt again the door yield at my back, and before I knew it I was dragged inside, and, in spite of the pressure of the mob, the door was pushed to with incredible swiftness by Humphrey Hyde's great strength, and the bolt shot.

There I lay on the floor of the hall well-nigh spent, and Mary Cavendish was chafing my hands, bandaging my wounds with some linen got, I knew not whence, and Catherine was there, and all the time the great battering blows upon the door were kept up, and also on the window-shutters, and the door began to shake.

Then I remembered something. There was behind the house a creek which was dry in midsummer, but often, as now, in springtime, swollen with rains, and of sufficient depth and force to float a boat. And when it was possible it had been the custom to send stores of tobacco for lading on shipboard to England, by this short cut of the creek which discharged itself into the river below, and there was for that purpose a great boat in the cellar, and also a door and a little landing.

I, remembering this, whispered to Mary Cavendish with all the strength which he could muster.

"For God's sake," I cried, "go you to the cellar, the boat, the boat, the creek."

But Mary looked at me, and I can see her face now.

"Think you I did not know of that way?" she said, "and think you I would leave you here to die? No, let them come in and do their worst."

Then I turned to Catherine and pleaded with her as well as I could with those thundering blows upon the door, and I well-nigh fainting and my blood flowing fast, and she did not answer at all but looked at me.

Then I turned to Sir Humphrey Hyde. "For God's sake, lad," I cried, "if you love her, save her. Only a moment and they will be in here. Hear the door tremble, and then 'twill be arrest and imprisonment, and--I tell thee, lad, leave me, and save them."

"They can do as they choose," cried Mary. Then she turned to Sir Humphrey. "Take Catherine, and she will show you the way out by the creek," she said. "As for me, I remain here."

Catherine bent over me and tightened a bandage, but she did not speak. Sir Humphrey looked at me palely and doubtfully.

"Harry," he said, "I can carry thee to the boat and we can all escape in that way."

"Yes," I replied, "but if I escape through them, 'twill serve to convict them, and--and--besides, lad, I cannot be moved for the bleeding of my wounds, such a long way; and besides, it is at the best arrest for me, since I have been seen by the whole posse and have shot down Captain Waller. Whither could I fly, pray? Not back to England. Me they will take in custody in any case, and they will not shoot a wounded captive. My life is safe for the time being. Humphrey--" With that I beckoned him to lean over me, which he did, putting his ear close.

"Seize Mary by force and bear her away, lad," I whispered, "down cellar to the boat. Catherine will show thee the way."

"I cannot, Harry," he whispered back, and as I live the tears were in the boy's eyes. "I cannot leave thee, Harry."

"You must; there is no other way, if you would save her," I whispered back. "And what good can you do by staying? The four of us will be taken, for you can do nothing for me single-handed. Captain Jaynes is killed--I saw him fall--and the parson has fled, and--and--I know not where be the others. For God's sake, lad, save her!"

Then Sir Humphrey with such a look at me as I never forgot, but have always loved him for, with no more ado, turned upon Mary Cavendish, and caught her, pinioning both arms, and lifted her as if she had been an infant, and Catherine would have gone to her rescue, but I caught at her hand, which was still at work on my bandage.

"Go you with them and show the way to the boat," I whispered. She set her mouth hard and looked at me. "I will not leave thee," she said.

"If you go not, then they will be lost," I cried out in desperation. For Mary was shrieking that she would not go, and I knew that Humphrey did not know the way, and could not find it and launch the boat in time with that struggling maid to encumber him, for already the door trembled as if to fall.

"I tell you they will not harm a wounded man," I cried. "If you leave me I am in no more worse case than now, and if you remain, think of your sister. You know what she hath done to abet the rebellion. 'Twill all come out if she be found here. Oh, Catherine, if you love her, I pray thee, go."

Then Catherine Cavendish did something which I did not understand at the time, and perhaps never understood rightly. Close over me she bent, and her soft hair fell over my face and hers, hiding them, and she kissed me on my forehead, and she said low, but quite clearly, "Whatever thou hast done in the past, my scorn henceforth shall be for the deed, not for thee, for thou art a man."

Then to her feet she sprang and caught hold of Mary's struggling right arm, though it might as well have struggled in a vise as in Sir Humphrey Hyde's reluctant, but mighty grasp.

"Mary," she said, "listen to me. 'Tis the best way to save him, to leave him."

Then Mary rolled her piteous blue eyes at her over Sir Humphrey's shoulder from her gold tangle of hair.

"What mean you?" she cried. "I tell you, Catherine, I will never leave him!"

"If we remain, we shall all be in custody," replied Catherine in her clear voice, though her face was white as if she were dead, "and our estates may be forfeited, and we have no power to help him. And he must be taken in the end in any case. And if we be free, we can save him."

"I will not go without him," cried Mary. "Set me down, Humphrey, and take up Harry, and I will help thee carry him. Do as I tell thee, Humphrey."

"Harry will be taken in any case," replied Catherine, "and if you take him, you will be arrested with him, and then we can do nothing for him. I tell thee, sweet, the only way to save him is to leave him."

Then Mary gave one look at me.

"Harry, is this the truth they tell me?" she cried.

"As God is my witness, dear child," I replied. Then she twisted her white face around toward Sir Humphrey's, who stood pinioning her arms with a look himself as if he were dying.

"Let me loose, Humphrey," she said, "let me loose, then I swear I will go with you and Catherine."

Then Sir Humphrey loosed her, and straight to me she came and bent over me and kissed me. "Harry," she said in a whisper which was of that strange quality that it seemed to be unable to be heard by any in the whole world save us two, though it was clear enough--"I leave thee because thou tellest me that this is the only way to save thee, but I am thine for life and for death, and nothing shall ever come forever between thee and me, not even thine own self, nor the grave, nor all the wideness of life."

Then she rose and turned to Sir Humphrey and Catherine.

"I am ready," said she, and Sir Humphrey gave my hand one last wring, and said that he would stand by me. Then they fled and, as I lay there alone, I heard their footsteps on the cellar stairs, and presently the dip of the boat as she was launched, and heard it above all the din outside, so keen were my ears for aught that concerned her.

Then that sound and all others grew dim, for I was near swooning, and when the door fell with a mighty crash near me, it might have been the fall of a rose leaf on velvet, and I had small heed of the fierce faces which bent over me, yet the hands extended toward my wounds were tender enough. And I saw as in a dream, Capt. Robert Waller, with his arm tied up, and wondered dimly if we were both dead, for I verily believed that I had killed him, and I heard him say, and his voice sounded as if a sea rolled between us, "'Tis the convict tutor, Wingfield, who held the door, and unless I be much mistaken, he hath his death-wound. Make a litter and lift him gently, and five of you search the house for whatever other rebels be hid herein."

And as I live, in the midst of my faintness, which made all sounds far away as from beyond the boundary of the flesh, and beyond the din of battle, which was still going on, though feebly, like a fire burning to its close, I heard the dip of oars on the creek, and knew that Mary Cavendish was safe.

A litter they fashioned from a lid of a chest while the search was going on, and I was lifted upon it with due regard to my wounds, which I thought a generous thing of Captain Waller, inasmuch as his own face was frowning with the pain of the wound which I had given him, but he was a brave man, and a brave man is ever a generous foe.

But when I was on the litter, breathing hard, yet with some consciousness, he bent close over me, and whispered "Sir, your wounds are bound up with strips torn from a woman's linen. I have a wife, and I know. Who was in hiding here, sir?"

My eyes flew wide open at that.

"No one," I gasped out. "No one as I live."

But he laughed, and bending still lower, whispered, "Have no fear as to that, Master Wingfield. Convict or not, you are a brave man, and that which you perchance gave your life to hide, shall be hidden for all Robert Waller."

So saying he gave the order to carry me forth with as little jolting as might be, and stationed himself at my side lest I come to harm from some over-zealous soldier. But in truth the militia and the officers in those days were apparently of somewhat uncertain quantity as regarded their allegiance to the King or the Colony.

The sympathy of many of them was with the colonists who made a stand against tyranny, and they were half-hearted, if whole-handed, for the King.

Just before they bore me across the threshold of Laurel Creek, those troopers who had been sent to search the house, clattered down the stair and swore that not so much as a mouse was in hiding there, then we all went forth.

Captain Waller, though walking somewhat weakly himself, kept close to my side. And he did not mount horse until we were out in the highway.

The grounds of Laurel Creek and the tobacco fields were a most lamentable sight, though I seemed to see everything as through a mist. Here and there one lay sprawled with limbs curled like a dead spider, or else flung out at a stiff length of agony. And Capt. Noel Jaynes lay dead with a better look on his gaunt old face in death than in life. In truth Capt. Noel Jaynes might almost have been taken for a good man as he lay there dead. And the outlaw who lived next door to Margery Key was doubled up where he fell in a sulky heap of death, and by his side wept his shrewish wife, shrilly lamenting as if she were scolding rather than grieving, and I trow in the midst of it all, the thought passed through my mind that it was well for that man that he was past hearing, for it seemed as if she took him to task for having died.

Of Dick Barry was no sign to be seen, but Nick lay not dead, but dead drunk, and over him was crouched one of those black women with a knife in her hand, and no one molested her, thinking him dead, but dead he was not, only drunk, and she was wounded herself, with the blood trickling from her head, unable to carry him from the field as she had brought him.

They carried me past them, and the black woman's eyes rolled up at us like a wild beast's in a jungle defending her mate, and I remember thinking, though dimly, as a man will do when he has lost much blood, that love was love, and perhaps showed forth the brighter and whiter, the viler and blacker the heart which held it, and then I knew no more for a space. _

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