Part 51 (1/2)
My hand fell from his arm; his appalled face whitened.
”Last night, sir,” he muttered, ”she was at the Hall, watching the flames in the sky where Butler was burning the Valley. I saw her there in a crowd of townsfolk, women, children--the whole town was on the lawn there----”
He wiped his clammy face and moistened his lips; above us, in the wooden tower, the clamor of the bell never ceased.
”She spoke to me, asking for news of you. I--I had no news of you to tell her. Then an officer--Captain Little--fell a-bawling for the Rangers to fall in, and Billy Laird, Jack Shew, Sammons, and me--we had to go. So I fell in, sir; and the last I saw she was standing there and looking at the reddening sky----”
Blindly, almost staggering, I pushed past him, stumbling down the ladder, across the yard, and into the lower corridor of the jail. There were women a-plenty there; some clung to my arm, imploring news; some called out to me, asking for husband or son. I looked blankly into face after face, all strangers; I mounted the stairs, pressing through the trembling throng, searching every whitewashed corridor, every room; then to the cellar, where the frightened children huddled, then out again, breaking into a run, hastening from blockhouse to blockhouse, the iron voice of the bell maddening me!
”Captain Renault! Captain Renault!” called out a militiaman, as I turned from the log rampart.
The man came hastening toward me, firelock trailing, pack and sack bouncing and flopping.
”My wife has news of your lady,” he said, pointing to a slim, pale young woman who stood in the doorway, a shawl over her wind-blown hair.
I turned as she advanced, looking me earnestly in the face.
”Your lady was in the fort late last night, sir,” she began. A fit of coughing choked her; overhead the dreadful clangor of the bell dinned and dinned.
Dumb, stunned, I waited while she fumbled in her soiled ap.r.o.n, and at last drew out a crumpled letter.
”I'll tell you what I know,” she said weakly. ”We had been to the Hall; the sky was all afire. My little boy grew frightened, and she--your sweet lady--she lifted him and carried him for me--I was that sick and weak from fright, sir----”
A fit of coughing shook her. She handed me the letter, unable to continue.
And there, brain reeling, ears stunned by the iron din of the bell which had never ceased, I read her last words to me:
”Carus, my darling, I don't know where you are. Please G.o.d, you are not at Oswaya, where they tell me the Indians have appeared above Varicks. Dearest lad, your Oneida came with your letter. I could not reply, for there were no expresses to go to you. Colonel Willett had news of the enemy toward Fort Hunter, and marched the next day. We hoped he might head them, but last night there was an alarm, and we all went out into the street. People were hastening to the Hall, and I went, too, being anxious, now that you are out there alone somewhere in the darkness.
”Oh, Carus, the sky was all red and fiery behind Tribes Hill; and women were crying and children sobbing all around me. I asked the Ranger, Mount, if he had news of you, and he was gentle and kind, and strove to comfort me, but he went away with his company on a run, and I saw the militia a.s.sembling where the drummers stood beating their drums in the torchlight.
”Somebody--a woman--said: 'It's hatchet and scalping again, and we women will catch it now.'
”And then a child screamed, and its mother was too weak to carry it, so I took it back for her to the jail.
”I sat in the jailer's room, thinking and thinking. Outside the barred window I heard a woman telling how Butler's men had already slain a whole family at Caughnawaga--an express having arrived with news of horrors unspeakable.
”Dearest, it came to me like a flash of light what I must do--what G.o.d meant me to do. Can you not understand, my darling? We are utterly helpless here. I must go back to this man--to this man who is riding hither with death on his right hand, and on his left hand, death!
”Oh, Carus! Carus! my sin has found me out! It is written that man should not put asunder those joined together. I have defied Him!
Yet He repays, mercifully, offering me my last chance.
”Sweetheart, I must take it. Can you not understand? This man is my lawful husband; and as his wife, I dare resist him; I have the right to demand that his Indians and soldiers spare the aged and helpless. I must go to him, meet him, and confront him, and insist that mercy be shown to these poor, terrified people. _And I must pay the price!_
”Oh, Carus! Carus! I love you so! Pray for me. G.o.d keep you! I must go ere it is too late. My horse is at Burke's. I leave this for you. Dear, I am striving to mend a shattered life with sacrifice of self--the sacrifice you taught me. I can not help loving you as I do; but I can strive to be worthy of the man I love. This is the only way!
”ELSIN GREY.”
The woman had begun to speak again. I raised my eyes.
”Your sweet lady gave me the letter--I waited while she wrote it in the warden's room--and she was crying, sir. G.o.d knows what she has written you!--but she kissed me and my little one, and went out into the yard.