LADY BIDDY IS SET ASHORE, BUT LITTLE MERCY THEREIN.
Hearing these words, Lady Biddy was thrown into such disorder that even had Rodrigues been of dull perception he might have read in her distracted countenance justification of his suspicions. Stepping aside, he fetches a seat placed there for his convenience, and sets it down beside Lady Biddy, who, for want of strength to stand up, sank into it. Then going to the rail, he calls to his boatswain, bidding him to let down Tonga, as he had discovered who it was that stabbed him.
"But," adds he, "no man is to stir from his post till he has my further command."
Whereupon the black was lowered down and hauled upon deck, where he lay for some time helpless and supine.
While this was doing, Rodrigues turns again to Lady Biddy, who was now come to herself again somewhat, and says he:
"You have shown a tender heart for the boy who betrayed you, and the negro who would have shown you no pity. What will you do for the man who saved you?"
Lady Biddy dropped her chin upon her bosom, and clasped her hands in silence, feeling how helpless she was, and how incapable of coping with the difficulty which now beset her.
"That he is courageous and strong he has given us ample proof," continues Rodrigues; "but the strength and vigor of a lion can not save him from the wrath of my company. I have but to tell them an enemy lies hid in the cabin below, and they will seize him and put him to greater torture than the black has endured. They will tear him limb from limb before your eyes, and even I could not save him from that horrid death."
"But I could," cries Lady Biddy, starting up. "Ay, and I will. Lift your voice to those heartless tigers below, and I will lift mine to him. Ere they can move a pace he will be beyond their violence, and I yours."
Rodrigues looked at her steadfastly through his half-closed eyelids, as if to make sure this threat was not idle; nay, by a contemptuous smile he provoked her to give him a further assurance. And this she did, being greatly wrought.
"We are prepared for the worst. I have but to cry to him for help, and he will fire the gunpowder below. Our fate will be no worse than yours, so take heed."
Saying this she stepped quickly back, placing the chair between herself and Rodrigues, that no treacherous blow from him might deprive her of the power to save me from the fate he threatened.
For an instant Rodrigues seemed taken aback by this revelation, but recovering his self-command, he says, with his usual smoothness and subtlety:
"Madam, I am greatly obliged for this warning, though it was quite unnecessary, as you will see for yourself if you consider the matter calmly. In the first place, I am not likely to do anything which may cause you to cry for help; and, in the second, I mean no mischief to your friend. Had that been my purpose, I could have secretly instructed my company to search the cabin and secure our dangerous foe the moment I discovered he was there. By sparing him, I designed to strengthen my claim upon your consideration—I hope still to merit your gratitude. To that end, as you perceive, I have ordered my company to stand to their posts."
In this there was an appearance of truth which Lady Biddy could not see through; so that it had the effect of calming her spirit somewhat, which was what Rodrigues did, doubtless, aim at.
"You must by this time know," he continued, "that I am a man who, having set his mind upon the achievement of an object, braves all things to that end. I never yet abandoned my purpose while there remained a single means of attaining to it. I have set my mind on abandoning this desperate career and marrying you, and to accomplish this design I am prepared to sacrifice everything; nay, I will go so far as to enrich the man who saved you from the negro. Listen!"
He made a step forward, but Lady Biddy, still doubtful of his intent (for none could look upon his face without seeing "villain" writ there), also drew back a step. Rodrigues, taking no notice of this act of prudence (save by a smile), set his hands on the back of the seat, as if that had been his sole purpose, and leaning forward in an easy, careless manner, continues:
"The boats lie alongside ready to carry my men ashore for their refreshment. I will send every one of my company away, leaving none on board save you and myself and our friend below. When the coast is clear, you and I will embark in my own boat, and we will abandon the ship to him" (pointing below). "As you see, there is not a ripple on the water; with a couple of hours' exertion I shall bring you to a village whence we may be transported by land to the town where I shall give you a home worthy of any princess. Will you accept my offer?"
"No," cries Lady Biddy, without taking an instant to consider.
"I will give you an hour to reflect," says Rodrigues.
"Nothing can change my decision, do what you will."
"You are prepared to destroy every soul in this ship—even the friend to whom you owe your life—rather than accept the terms I offer? You realize what you threaten?"
"Yes," says she; "not I, but you, must answer to God for the destruction of our lives."
He smiled scornfully, as if that consideration were the least of his troubles; then he bent his head, and, knitting his brows, remained in thought for a while. Suddenly raising his head, as if his final decision was made, he says:
"You compel me to abandon the fondest hope I have cherished? Be it so. Now to undo this business, and forget my folly."
Turning about, he calls to the boatswain to have his barge manned and brought to the ship's landing-steps.
"I must ask you, madam," says he, again addressing my lady, "to leave this ship. I must think now only of my own safety and the welfare of my company."
Not foreseeing her danger, but only transported with joy to think she was to be delivered from her captivity, Lady Biddy replied that she demanded nothing better.
"Your effects will be landed afterwards. I doubt if you would care for me to send my men into your cabin for them at the present moment."
"But," says Lady Biddy, thinking of me, and then she stopped.
"I understand what is in your thoughts. You are concerned for your friend; so am I. I cannot answer for his life if my men find him. They would insist upon his death in return for the injury inflicted upon Tonga. Therefore must he wait until the company is landed and gone in search of water."
At this moment the boatswain came to say that the boat was prepared.
"You will take this lady to the shore, and see that no injury is offered her—not a word uttered that may offend her," says Rodrigues; and then stepping back, that she might have freedom to pass, he takes off his hat and makes her a prodigious fine bow. Yet Lady Biddy hesitated, fearing treachery to me; and still more might she have feared it if her spirits had been quite composed, and her judgment in a condition to weigh all that Rodrigues had said.
"What have you to fear?" says he, speaking low. "What harm could the most treacherous wretch inflict with impunity? If you have told the truth—which I do not doubt—a cry from you will insure the destruction of all you leave in this ship. Your cry from the shore would sound as clearly in this still air as from here. Think what you will of me, but believe that I am not a fool. Farewell!"
Hoping for the best, seeing no better course open to her, and yet troubled with misgivings, Lady Biddy descended the side and took her place in the barge. Then in silence the men pulled her ashore. Yet did they look keenly one at the other, as if expecting some merry turn of this business—one thrusting his tongue in his cheek, a second winking his eye, and a third hawking as if he had a rheum.
However, they said not one word, and having set Lady Biddy on shore very tenderly, they shoved off and returned to the ship.
Now, not knowing which way to turn nor what to do, for her position being so unexpected, and feeling like one set alone in another world, Lady Biddy rested her hand on the tree by which she stood, and in a kind of maze watched the boat returning to the ship.
Then she began to wonder how long it would be ere the men would be dispersed and I should come to her, and what means we should find of getting to that town Rodrigues had spoken of.
The men left the boat and went up on board, and still Lady Biddy watched, as if she had but just woke from her sleep, and was dazed (as she told me); but of a sudden a great shout burst upon her ear, and as quickly it flashed upon her intelligence that a false trick had been put upon her, which she might have foreseen had she been as subtle as Rodrigues, which (thanks be to God) she was not. Then for the first time it occurred to her that while she was being carried to the shore Rodrigues might send part of his company below to take the powder from the armory, or to be prepared with muskets to shoot me dead the moment I lifted the trap.
And now hearing this shout she was convinced that precautions had been taken to prevent the blowing up of the ship, and the men were rushing into the cabin to take me.
But this was not the worst. As she strained her eyes, as if to pierce the side of the ship and know my fate, she perceived a boat shoot from the further side of the ship and turn towards her. For a moment she believed that I had contrived to escape, for there was but one man in the boat; but looking more narrowly she perceived, to her horror, that the man was Tonga the negro; and coming towards her he raised a terrible yell of savage joy and triumph.
Rodrigues, true to his word, had offered the black a reward for the pain he had been put to; and now, as he came on exulting to satiate his lust and vengeance, my poor Lady Biddy screamed aloud to me.
But it was too late; and Lady Biddy, feeling she was now most surely undone, could not even cry again for help.