CHAPTER XXII
PRISONERS IN THE TEMPLE
A fear of impending danger will not always prove sufficiently strong toprevent yielding to the demands of fatigue. I realized the desperationof our position, feeling no doubt regarding our ultimate fate. I readit plainly in our surroundings, as well as within those vengeful,scowling faces, yet so dulled was every physical sense from excessiveweariness that I had passed through much already described like a manin a dream. The brief repose of the previous night, broken by nervous,superstitious terrors, the anxious effort to escape from the hauntedcanyon, the hurried labor on our rude defences, the two fierce combatswith the savages, my numerous wounds, none dangerous yet weakening meby loss of blood, together with the rapid marching and the difficultclimb up the cliff, combined to exhaust my vitality so completely that,the moment we halted within the sacred precincts of this temple, Iflung myself full length upon the floor. I remember the sun hadalready disappeared behind the western heights. I retain some slightmemory of a tender hand resting softly on my forehead, of a familiarvoice questioning me, yet if I made response, it must have been in theunconsciousness of sleep, as these faint remembrances were my last.
I had no means of telling how long I lay thus, close against the northwall of the building in that very posture in which I had first fallen.It must have been after hours of unconsciousness I was at lastpartially aroused by the reviving touch of cool water with which myface was being bathed. As I slowly unclosed my heavy eyes the hugesmouldering log in the centre of the room burst into sudden flame,lighting the interior, casting weird, dancing shadows along the blackwalls, its red radiance falling upon the face bending above me, andpermitting me to look into the dark, troubled eyes of Eloise de Noyan.
"There is no necessity for moving," she explained softly. "Nothing ofmoment has occurred since you fell asleep, except that the savagesbrought us food."
"Have you been watching over me all this time without rest?"
"Nay; at least no more over you than the others," she answered with asmile, "yet you appeared in greatest stress. The others have been sometime awake and have partaken of food while you remained in stupor. Donot look at me like that! I am not tired; I was borne all the way upona litter, never once placing foot upon the ground."
"Have you knowledge as to the hour?"
"Only that it must be well into the night."
I lifted my body into a more erect posture, finding myself stiff andsore from head to foot, and glanced curiously around our prison-house.In the centre was the blazing log, the sole bit of color my eyes couldperceive. Kneeling upon either side were the motionless figures offour priests, robed from head to foot in black, their faces, darkenedby some pigment, appearing ghastly and repulsive under the flickeringflame. Their lips muttered in monotonous chant a weird incantationwhich sent to my heart a chill of superstitious dread. High above thealtar, blackened by the constantly ascending cloud of smoke, swayeduneasily a peculiar graven image of wood, hideous in disfigurement ofform and diabolical of visage, appearing to float upon outspread wings,and gloating down upon us through eyes glittering ominously in the firesheen. At either extremity of the apartment, where I supposed were theentrance and exit previously noted, stood those savages remaining onguard, grim, naked fellows, whose restless eyes, gleaming in the glow,followed our slightest movements, and whose weapons were constantlyuplifted as though they longed for some excuse to strike. It composeda grewsome scene, savage, cruel, devilish, exhibiting within its gloomyoutlines small promise for the morrow.
The old Puritan was leaning heavily against a small stake driven intothe earth, resting his aching head upon one hand as he peered at mefrom beneath thatched brows.
"You have a white face, Master Benteen," he ventured, wondrously softspoken for him, "yet if the heart remain strong and at peace with God,the body will mend itself."
"The heart has never yet failed me," I returned, striving to speakcheerfully, feeling that he would like to hear hearty English wordsagain. "I am glad to behold you safely recovered, friend; that was ahard crack they landed on your skull."
"'T is not the will of the Almighty that I ignominiously perish at thehands of the heathen," he responded in his old manner, and as his voiceroared out, not unlike a clap of thunder in that silence, I observedhow the savages about us started. "Again, and yet again hath Hemiraculously delivered his servant from the mouth of the lion. SurelyHe must yet have labor for me in His vineyard; perchance the bearingunto these children of Amalek the message of peace."
"Do you propose preaching unto them?"
"Ay, why not? Inspired thereunto by the Spirit, I have already soughtserious converse with yonder priest of Baal, kneeling at this side ofthat accursed shrine of idolatry. Yet so wedded is he to idols of woodand stone, he merely chattered back at me in unintelligible speech, andwhen I laid hand upon him to compel him to listen, the brown savagebeyond grievously thrust me with a spear. But I retain faith that theLord, in His own time, will open up a way unto their rebellious andsinful hearts."
"Such way may be opened, yet I fear these savages will only takeunkindly your efforts at ministry, even if they permit opportunity forthe carrying on of such work."
"I should be overjoyed to minister unto them with the sharp edge of asteel blade," interposed De Noyan decidedly, and I noticed him for thefirst time, lying beyond his wife. "What do you expect, MasterBenteen, these villains will do to us?"
"I read no sign of mercy in any face yet seen," I answered cautiously."It would be against all savage nature to forgive the loss of thosewarriors sent home this day."
"You look for death?"
"I expect nothing less, and by torture; still they may permit us theslight chance of the gantlet, although I know not the war customs ofthe tribe."
He subsided into silence, as though my words merely echoed his owngloomy thought, and for a few moments no sound arose except the dismaldroning of the priests about the altar. Then Cairnes silently pushedover toward me what remained of their evening meal, and I forgot gloomyforebodings in a new realization of hunger. It was while thus busilyengaged Madame spoke to me, whispering her words softly, so that theycould not reach the ears of the others.
"If the end prove according to our fears, could you outline my probablefate?"
No lack of courage prompted the question, I could perceive that in hereyes as they looked into my own, and some way their expression yieldedme boldness to answer truthfully.
"I am afraid, Madame, you may be spared," I said gravely.
Her hands closed down tightly about each other.
"That is what renders my heart so heavy in this peril, GeoffreyBenteen. I could die easily, without tremor, beside you; nor would Ishrink back from torture, did it of necessity come to me, for I possessa faith in Christ which would sustain me in such an ordeal. Butthis--O God!--it is too much! The thought that I may be reserved for aworse fate than death, may be compelled to live for months, perhapsyears, as the humiliated companion of these murderous savages--I, alady of France! It is more than I can bear."
I saw tears shining in her eyes, and my hand, seeking her own, closedover it with sympathetic pressure.
"God grant there be some escape," I said earnestly; it was all thatcame to my lips.
"But I feel there is none. I have not lived upon the border of thisvast wilderness all my life without learning something regarding thecustoms of savages. If they spare a woman from stake or knife it isthat they may doom her to a fate more horrible, making of her theirdegraded slave. I know this, and have read the truth anew in thosefaces glaring upon me to-day. There remains but one faint hope--thatwoman who seems to exercise control over them may incline the savagesto mercy."
"I cannot encourage you to place much trust in such tenderness," Iconfessed sadly. "'T is not likely, despite her white face, andcertain graces bespeaking knowledge of civilization, she will prove anyless a savage than those she governs. She would not be here, able tocontrol so wild a b
rood of wolves, if she were not of their breed inheart; nor do women chiefs have much choice against the vote of thetribe. I do not trust her, Madame; I studied her face--a fair one, Igrant--as she stood in the sun upon the rock summit. It was hard set,and savage with the scent of blood and battle. No mercy led her toprotect us then; like a great cat she prefers playing with her micebefore killing. Has she been here while I slept?"
"No one has visited us excepting the old chief who led the assault; hedid nothing but strike the Puritan, who sought speech with him."
She paused a moment, her head bent low; then she lifted her face tomine again, and I read within it the quick determination of her soul.
"Geoffrey Benteen, listen. What would you do to save her who wasEloise Lafreniere from such a fate of horror as now overhangs her?"
"Anything within the power of a man," I answered instantly, a painfulthrobbing at the heart. "I would even drive the saving steel into yourheart to keep you unsoiled from the clutch of such foul hands. Ay!hard as the task must prove, yet I could do it, believing I performedthe will of God as I struck the blow. But even for that I am helpless,as I possess no weapon."
I felt her hands touch mine, something cold being pressed against myflesh.
"I thank thee, Father, there is one whom I may trust even unto death,"she sobbed prayerfully. "Take this knife, Geoffrey Benteen. TheIndians did not think to search a woman for such weapons of war. Ifthe moment comes when all hope is gone, when naught else is left, Ipray you, as a helpless woman utterly dependent upon your aid, let thatsharp point save me endless shame and agony. Have I your promise?"
"But--but why not ask this of your husband?" I questioned, shrinking,in spite of my belief in its righteousness, from the committal of sodreadful a deed.
"Surely he would better make answer for the necessity of so desperate asacrifice."
Her dark eyes never wavered from my face, nor did her hands relax theirconfident grasp of mine.
"Not because I believe he would refuse, but he is of a temperchangeable as the winds of Spring. I must rest in peace, not inperpetual doubting. You I trust implicitly; your word, once gravelygiven, will be kept to the death; nay, surely this is no time in whichto practise deceit with each other, or act parts like mummers upon thestage. I know you love me even as of old. I know this, GeoffreyBenteen, and will abide in my extremity with no other promise than yourown."
"Eloise," I answered, strangely calmed and strengthened by her faith,"it shall be as you wish. I thank you for the words, and am better forthem. When the last faint hope flees, and dishonor or death alone isleft, I will strike that blow which sets free your soul."
I felt her kisses and tears commingled on my roughened hands, butbefore further words might be uttered, the heavy mat concealing thewestern entrance was suddenly lifted, and in from the dark night therestalked in solemn silence and dignity a long line of stalwart savages.