CHAPTER XXIV
I was taken, in company with Jack Mount, on Monday morning, the 29thof October, 1774, without warrant or process, without a shadow oflegal right, without the faintest justification or excuse, save that Ihad been seen conversing with Mount on the Mall, and had resisted thethief-taker Bishop and his filthy gang of bailiffs.
From the 29th of October until the 15th day of December, chained ankleto ankle, wrist to wrist, and wearing a steel collar from which chainshung and were riveted to the rings on my legs, I lay in that vile ironcage known as the "Pirates' Chapel," in company with Mount and eightsullen, cursing ruffians, taken in piracy off the Virginia capes byhis Majesty's ship _Hebe_, consort of the frigate _Asia_.
During those six weeks not a moment passed in which I despaired, notan hour dragged out its chain of minutes but I believed it must be thehour for my delivery from this hideous injustice.
From the minute I had entered the "Chapel," the dull amazement whichhad fettered mind and body in a strange paralysis gave way to a deadlypatience. My benumbed faculties grew clear; every sense becameabnormally alert. Calmly I faced the terrible dilemma; I probed itsconsequences coolly; I understood that while Walter Butler held theGovernor's ear, and while the Governor held the civil power at his ownpleasure, and used it as whim or caprice moved him, I could neitherhope for a hearing before a magistrate nor dare expect a trial by mycountrymen. The soiled hand of England had polluted the ermine of thejudges; the bayonets of England cleared the court-rooms; the mockingGovernor brooded in Province House, watching the structure of civilrights crumble and collapse, while his judges, his sheriffs, hisbailiffs, and his soldiers prowled through the debris of a structurewhich had been reared by my own people's martyrdom.
As for communication with the outside world, with friends, even withhostile relatives, or with the Governor himself, there was no possiblechance. Our steel cage was set in the centre of a stone chamber, thebarred windows of which opened on a bare stony parade, bounded on theeast by Cornhill, on the west by Treamount Street, and on the south bySchool Street and the dead wall enclosing King's Chapel. There was nota soul to be seen in the prison or outside save the marine sentinels,the jailers, the warden of the prison, and the eight ruffians who werecaged with us, among whom there was but a single Englishman.
Our cage was bedded with straw like a kennel; our food was brought usthree times a day, in earthen bowls. A wooden spoon went with eachbowl, otherwise the feed differed nothing from the feed of dogs.
Mount, in the beginning, had conducted like a madman, passing swiftlyup and down his cage, pacing to and fro along the ranks of steel bars,blank fury glaring from his eyes, jaw hanging like the jowl of acommitted panther.
All that first night he stalked the cage, brushing the bars with browand thigh, and deep in his blue eyes there burned a terrible light,like the livid witch-fires which flare in haunted swamps.
At first the manacled ruffians who lay about us in the straw watchedhim doggedly, but as the night wore on and his pacing never ceased,they growled sullen protest. Then he slowly turned on them, baring hiswhite teeth.
From that moment they gave him room and he ruled the cage as a silent,powerful beast rules, scarcely conscious of the cringing creatures whohuddle around his legs, and whose presence cannot invade the solitudeof his own fierce misery.
The light in the stone chamber was cool and gray--clear enough, yetnever tinged with sunlight. Night brought thick, troubled shadowscreeping around the single candle which dripped from an iron socketriveted to the wall. Then the shades of the jailers fell across thefloor as the large lanthorn was set outside in the corridor, and allnight long the shuffling tread of the sentry marked the dead march oftime.
For three days, now, I had not touched the broth which was set on thestraw beside me; I do not know that I should have made the effort toeat at all, except for an accident. It happened in this manner: oneday, towards the middle of December, I had been lying on my belly,trying to think out something of that future which I had not yetdespaired of. Musing there, nose buried in my arms, I lay almost onthe verge of slumber, yet with one eye on the corridor beyond, when Isaw distinctly a woman's face peer through the thick grating whichseparated the corridor from our stone chamber.
After a while the face disappeared; I lay still a moment, then touchedMount's arm.
He turned his haggard face to me.
"Bishop's daughter is in the corridor," I whispered.
"Where?" asked Mount, vacantly.
"Out there behind the grating. She may do something for--for you. Ifshe should, I think we had better try to eat."
"Yes," he said, "we must eat." And he turned with a snarl on one ofthe caged wretches behind us who for days had been battening on thefood that neither Jack nor I touched.
The man was in the act of dragging Mount's bowl and spoon towards hisown nest in the straw, but he dropped the food and shrank back asMount seized it with an oath.
I also secured my own bowl of bread and broth, and, together, we ateas animals eat, eying the others malevolently and askance.
That night Mount lay awake, watching the grating. At dawn I awoke towatch, and Mount rolled himself up into a ball of buckskin and sleptthe first peaceful sleep which had come to him since his taking.
The day passed in horrible monotony; our straw had become so foul thatmy head swam with the stench. But towards evening came a jailer andtwo soldiers, who raked the filthy straw from our cage, mopped thereeking floor, and when it had partly dried, shook us down a beddingof sweet rye-straw, into which we burrowed like dogs.
That night we heard the noise of hammers overhead, and at first terrorseized on all in the cage, for we believed that workmen had come tobuild gibbets. In the morning, when our jailer arrived to fetch uswater, I spoke to him, scarcely expecting a reply, for he had neverbefore paid the faintest attention to questions from any of us.
I was surprised, therefore, when he hesitated, glanced up at me, andfinally informed me that the hammering we heard was made by masons andcarpenters who were reconstructing the upper tiers of the prison forthe new warden and his family.
Presuming on his pleasant manner, I continued my questioning, but hesoon silenced me with a shake of his head.
"I know nothing about your case," he said. "Matters move slowly here;the prison is crowded with rebels who have defied the Governor's edictagainst public assemblies. Their cases come before yours, young man."
"And the others here?" I asked.
He paid no attention to my question.
I asked for news of the outside world, but he would give me none.
Mount, whose morbid curiosity had been aroused by the sight of someworkmen digging holes in the yard outside the prison, stood up towatch them. The other prisoners also huddled to the south side of thecage, their chains making a great clanking as they moved. At themoment when their backs were turned the jailer looked at themsignificantly, then at me, and, to my horror, passed his witheredfingers over his corded throat.
I stared at him, fascinated, but he shrugged his stooping shoulders,shuffled off to the wicket, let himself out, and slammed the grating.
That night I sat close to Jack Mount, my hand on his broad shoulder,crushing back the lump in my throat. I believed he was to die soon;when, I did not know; but the grim gesture of the jailer had conveyeda hint that could not be mistaken.
At dawn I stood up to gaze fearfully out into the prison yard. Snowhad fallen; workmen were digging at the holes with pick and crow.
When the jailer brought breakfast to us, he laid two bundles ofsail-cloth on the floor under the windows beyond our cage. Later hereturned and carefully nailed each strip of cloth over the windows,hiding our view of the prison yard.
Mount asked him why he did that; the other prisoners became restlessand suspicious, calling out to the jailer in Spanish and Portuguese;even the Englishman broke his long silence with a sneering inquiry asto the reason of cutting off our view. The jailer continued his taskwithout answe
ring or even glancing at the imprisoned men, who nowcrowded against the bars, clamouring, gesticulating, and clankingtheir manacles. They were stunted, swarthy fellows, bull-necked,shaggy of hair and beard, clothed in filthy shreds of finery to whichthe straw stuck.
Some were frightfully scarred; some were still swathed in bandages,greasy with filth, tied over unhealed sores or wounds. One of them,who wore large gold hoops in his ears, had lost his right hand, but hebeat against the steel bars with the mangled stump, and cried ever:"Listen, senor, you good fellow! He! Senor! I say, senor! They will todo me no harm, eh? I am innocent, what? And thus I say to your senorGovernor; eh, you good fellow? What? It is the holy truth, by Jesu!"
The Englishman laughed scornfully: "They're planting trees in the yardoutside. We'll all climb them soon, won't we, jailer?"
"By God," muttered Mount, "they are planting gallows!"
When he had shrouded the windows, the jailer scrambled briskly to thefloor and hastened out through the wicket, unheeding the shouts andshrill cries of the ruffians, who had rushed to the other side of thecage. When the wicket slammed the panic ceased; a dead silencefollowed, then one of the Spaniards uttered a piercing scream and felldown into the straw, tearing and biting at his chains.
"Die like a man! Die like a man!" said the Englishman, contemptuously;but terror had seized another of the ruffians, and he began hobblingaround the cage, shrieking out prayer on prayer.
Mount, pale and composed, lay at full length in our corner, watchingthe wicket, a straw between his white teeth. I sat beside him, myheart hammering under my torn shirt, resolutely crushing back theterror which was feeling my throat with icy fingers.
"Do you believe they are setting the gibbets?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
After a moment he added: "Why did you not leave me, lad? This is foulcompany for a gentleman to die in."
Terror choked me. I sank face downward in the straw, blind withfright, and lay there shaking till the candle was lighted and thelanthorn in the corridor sent its yellow rays through the wicket.
Black, whirling thoughts swarmed through my brain; again and again Ifought the battle for courage, only to lose it and again find myselffaint with horror, tearing silently at my chains.
"Now that I know I am to die," said Mount, calmly, "I shall die easilyenough. It was hope that hurt. I shall die easily."
"I shall die hard," I stammered; "no one will know it, but I shall diehard out there in the snow."
"I will stand next to you if I can," said Mount. "If you feel weak,reach out and touch me. I shall jest with the hangman. It is easy; youwill see how easy it can be." I raised my head to look at him.
"You care nothing," I said, fiercely; "you will see Cade Renard, andyou care nothing! But I am leaving _her_!"
"God will right all that," said Mount, gravely.
"As for death," I blurted out, pronouncing the word with an effort, "Ican die as coolly as you. But--but a gentleman's son--on thegibbet--hanging in chains between thieves--the disgrace--"
Shame strangled the voice in my throat, my head reeled.
"Our Lord so died," said Mount, slowly.
I sat still as a stone. Mount gathered his knees in his hands andchewed his straw peacefully, blue eyes fixed on vacancy.
Presently I plucked his sleeve. "Yes, lad," he said, without turning.
"You are not afraid that I will not know how to meet--it?" I asked.
"No."
"I am--am not afraid," I whispered. "I mean to bear myself withoutfear. I shall speak to you when--we are ready. You shall see I am notafraid. Will they pray, Jack?"
"When? Now?"
"No, to-morrow."
"They will say a prayer on the gallows, lad."
"Will they take off our chains?"
"No."
"How--how long shall we hang?"
"A long time, lad."
"Could anybody know our features?"
"The weather will change them. Have you never seen a cross-roadsgibbet?"
"No. Have you?"
"Yes, lad."
After a silence I said, "I hope no one will know me."
He did not reply; the candle-flame in the dripping socket swayed inicy draughts from the wicket; the Spaniards muttered and moaned andcried like sick children; the Englishman stood in silence, staring atthe windows through which he could not see.
Presently he came over to our corner. We had never before spoken tohim, nor he to us, but now Mount looked up with a ghost of a smile andnodded.
"It's all behind that window," said the Englishman, jerking his thumbover his shoulder; "we'll know all about it this time to-morrow. Isthe young one with you afraid?"
"Not he," said Mount.
The Englishman sat down on his haunches.
"What do you suppose it is?" he asked.
"What? Death?"
"Ay."
"I don't know," said Mount.
"Nor I," said the Englishman, with an oath; "and," he added, "I havedealt it freely enough, too. Have you?"
"Yes," said Mount.
"And he?" glancing at me.
"Once," I replied, hoarsely.
"I've watched men die many times," continued the Englishman, rubbinghis thumb reflectively over his irons, "and I'm not a whit the wiser.I've seen them hang, drown, burn, strangle--ay, seen them die o'fright, too. Puff! Out they go at last, and--leave me gaping at theirshells. I've slid my hanger into men and the blood came, but I wasnone the wiser. What makes the dead look so small? Have you everkilled your enemy? Is there satisfaction in it? No, by God, for thesecond you stop his breath he's gone--escaped! And all you've got is athing at your feet with clothes too large for it."
He looked at me and played with his wrist-chains. "You're six feet,"he said, musingly; "you'll shrink to five foot six. They all do. I'llwager you are afraid, young man!"
"You lie!" I said.
"Spoken well!" he nodded. "You'll die smiling, yet. As for theSpaniards yonder, they'll sail off squalling. It's their nature; Iknow."
He rose and glanced curiously at Mount.
"You have not followed the sea?" he asked.
Mount shook his head absently.
"Highway?"
"At intervals."
"Well, do you know anything about this place called Death?" asked theEnglishman, with a sneer.
"I expect to find a friend there," said Mount, looking up serenely.
At that moment a faint metallic sound broke on our ears. It seemed tocome from the depths of the prison. We listened; the Spaniards alsoceased their moaning and sat up, alert and quiet. The sound cameagain--silence--then the measured cadence of footfalls.
Mount had risen; I also stood up. The Spaniards burrowed into thestraw, squealing like rats. Tramp, tramp, tramp, came the heavyfootfalls along the corridor; the ruddy gleam of lanthorns played overthe wicket.
"Halt! Ground arms!"
Lights blinded our dazzled eyes; bayonets glittered like slenderflames.
An officer stepped to the lanthorn; a soldier raised it; then theofficer unrolled a parchment and began to read very rapidly. I couldnot distinguish a word of it for the cries of the Spaniards, but Isaw the jailer unlocking our cage, and presently two soldiers steppedin and drove out a Spaniard at the point of their bayonets.
Shrieking, sobbing, supplicating, the Spaniards were thrust out intothe corridor; the Englishman went last, with a contemptuous nod atMount and me, and a cool gesture to the soldiers to stand aside.
Mount followed; but, as he stepped from the cage, a soldier pushed himback, shaking his head.
"Not yet?" asked Mount, quietly.
"Not yet," said the soldier, locking the cage and flinging the ironkey to the jailer.
Into the prison passed the tumult; the solid walls dulled it at last;then came the far echo of a gate closing, and all was silent.
I turned to the draped windows. Dawn whitened the sail-cloth that hungover them. A moment later I heard drums in the distance beating the"Rogues'
March."