CHAPTER IX.—An Iron Hand Comes Down.
Anxiety Over Beelo’s Absence. The Runaways Return in Disgrace. Mr. Vancouver’s Predicament. Rebellion Breeding. The Arrest. Merciless Discipline.
NEXT morning the young men in Mr. Vancouver’s plot passed secret looks and words, and Mr. Vancouver and Rawley wore an indifferent air too conspicuously.
Annabel emerged late; she and Dr. Preston had been with the suffering child that night; but she looked much more worn and depressed than the night’s vigil warranted. I greeted her cheerily, and her quiet smile was ready. I saw nothing to indicate that she noted anything unusual afoot. Captain Mason gave her a pleasant bow.
The colony had early integrated into small social groups, particularly at meal-times. We sat on rough benches at two long tables under trees. There was a rearrangement of groups at breakfast this morning, so as to bring the conspirators together at an end occupied by Mr. Vancouver and Rawley. Annabel sat with the children. The maneuver of the men did not escape Captain Mason, who was some distance away and at the other table, having rigidly held himself aloof from all social preferences. After breakfast he gave me an unobtrusive look, and left. I soon followed, and found Christopher with him in our hut.
“You noticed, Mr. Tudor?”
“Yes. They will go out of the valley today. Lentala will see that they are turned back. What shall I do?”
An amused look came into his eyes. “You may abandon your usual plan of calling the names of those who shall go to the fields, and announce that only volunteers need go. That will spare such of the idiots as are on your list from sneaking out of the fields on pretense of headache. Give them a long rope. Everything is moving beautifully to a crisis. Take your men to the fields. Christopher will stay here.”
With the insistence of trifles thrusting themselves into a tense situation, every small thing of the morning marched with me back to the tables. I must observe the progress of some insatiably hungry nestlings in a tree, and laugh at a round scolding from their mother. Never had I heard so many birds singing at once. The solemn cadence of the waterfall sent a Sabbath spirit through the air. The forest shadows quivered with mysteries and portents, and the air was drunk with the perfume of many flowers.
Annabel’s glance showed that she had noted our leaving the tables, but a cheery word from me laid her uneasiness.
Relief appeared in some faces when I announced that only volunteers would go to the fields that day. Mr. Vancouver studied me, and Rawley was nervous. A small crowd responded to my call, and then amused shame swept over the men as I good-naturedly laughed at them, with the result that a larger squad than usual came forward. I kept Mr. Vancouver in sight, and was not surprised to catch him throwing a look at a conspirator here and there, causing the guilty to stand forth with the innocent. I knew that he suspected something in my departure from the usual way lately of calling out the men.
The work in the fields went with a smoothness that gave no hint of trouble beneath the surface. The conspirators dropped away one after another, with my pleasant assent. Rawley remained. That meant his want of courage to join the daring expedition. When the remnant started for camp I went to the spot where I expected Beelo and Christopher.
The time for Beelo’s appearance came and passed. I had an irksome wait, and in spite of my confidence in his skill, I grew uneasy lest he had fallen into difficulties. Never before had he failed to keep an appointment. His endurance and pluck had been extraordinary. From his home at the palace to our meeting-places had been a number of miles, without counting his trouble and ingenuity in avoiding detection, and the hard labor of scaling the valley wall; yet he had never failed, never complained, never mentioned the heroism for which his conduit stood. I bitterly accused myself and Captain Mason for our selfishness in accepting the boy’s allegiance and labors as a mere incident of our struggle to escape. My heart went out to him now; I had been remiss in appreciation. Had he been of a more aggressive nature, less gentle and timid, relying more on force than ingenuity, perhaps my conscience would have been easier. The task which it had been so easy for me to send Lentala with reference to the malcontents, must have been severe for her, and must have involved her brother.
Christopher came at last, but not Beelo. The man reported all well in camp; Annabel had been downcast until Captain Mason cheered her; Mr. Vancouver was painfully restless; none of the conspirators had returned.
We waited until all hope of Beelo’s arrival was futile. Christopher had been listening, but I dreaded to question him. Finally I remarked that we must go, as we could not expect Beelo so late. The readiness with which Christopher acquiesced assured me that he had not expected the lad, but I had no heart to ask him whether he thought that trouble had been the detaining cause. We returned to camp.
Dr. Preston had much patching of cuticle to do that night, for the young men returned after dark. There had been an uneasy hush over the camp all day. Upon their arrival, which was accomplished with all possible unostentation, a buzz arose and gossip leaked. I was with Captain Mason, who sat silent and in grim content as I told him what was going on. We were both curious to see what Dr. Preston, a quiet young man of fine intelligence, would deem his duty after the urgency of his offices had passed. After a while he came, excited and a little frightened.
He reported that there were no serious hurts, and that the men would be about next day.
“What account do they give?” inquired Captain Mason. The twinkle in his eyes was lost on the earnest young physician.
“They were peaceably exploring the valley, Captain,—just a lark, you know, although it had the serious purpose of finding out anything that might be useful in the escape of the colony,—when they were set upon by an overwhelming horde of savages, the evident purpose being to take them away by force. Our men, though so greatly outnumbered, held their ground, but the scrimmage was close and savage. They would have won without the fan-bearer’s interference, but her coming up with a personal guard put an end to the affair, as she called the natives off.”
Captain Mason’s amused attention sharpened to a keen interest. “The king’s fan-bearer?” he echoed.
“Yes; the one we saw at the feast.”
The president nodded. “They have all told you the same story, I suppose,” he remarked.
“Yes.”
“Thank you. That is all.”
In leaving, Dr. Preston looked surprised that Captain Mason should appear so indifferent.
Captain Mason announced no plans concerning the young men that night, and there was nothing unusual in his bearing next morning when the colony assembled for breakfast. All watched him narrowly. When breakfast was over, and before we had risen from the tables, he sent Christopher for me, for I sat some distance away. As I rose, I had a strong feeling that something extraordinary was about to fall to my hand, for I knew Captain Mason’s nature and his trust in me.
That brought Beelo vividly to mind. He had seen hardly more than the gentler side of me. Indeed, it had doubtless been his own gentleness, his innate delicacy and refinement, that had held in subjection the ruder elements in me, so deep was my fondness for him. And it had never been irksome, though the conduct which it had almost forced upon me was strikingly different from that which usually governed me. While I was glad that Beelo was not present to see what I knew was coming, still his spirit was with me, and so strongly that it was tangible. My whole outlook was filled with him, and I could not shake off the feeling that he was really near and observing.
Under the impulse, I sent a trained glance into the shadows about the camp, and suddenly stopped, for I found his bright eyes peering at me from the trees. A closer look discovered that underneath the almost conscious mischief that sparkled in his eyes was apprehension. I had a moment of anger that he should be there, and tried to give him a look that would send him away; but he made a face at me, and with deep misgivings I went to my duty, striving to put him out of my mind.
“Call for order,” Captain Mason directed, “and make a complete statement of the affair, omitting Mr. Vancouver’s connexion with it. Then tell off twelve steady men for a guard, and have them arrest all of the young men who disobeyed the rule. Manage the details in your own way. I’ll take command after the arrest.”
Obedience to authority was a law of my training, but I was aghast, and wondered if the man realized that he might be touching a match to a magazine.
As Mr. Vancouver was the danger-center, I glanced at him. He had been closely observing the president. I shall not forget the picture that he made as I called for order and proceeded with the speech. By no effort could he control the emotions that surged to his face,—his consternation at the appalling correctness of my account, his ferocious resentment and anger, his sense of being baffled and humiliated while being spared from open shame, his white fear that at last he would be exposed as the arch-traitor.
I observed Annabel also, and saw her puzzled uneasiness as I reminded the colony of the king’s injunction and the great danger of disregarding it; her furtive glances at her father; her amazement when I hinted at the plot for undermining Captain Mason’s authority, and spoke of its secret working toward the destruction of the colony; the blanching of her cheeks when I described the effort of the young men to slip out of the valley, their being beaten and bound, and the mercy that had spared them, whipped and wounded, to sneak back in darkness to camp; and the lie they told to cover their treachery and shame.
There was a tense pause when I had done, and then I called out the names of the guilty. So overwhelming had been the presentation, that, as Captain Mason must have foreseen, there was no time for immediate reaction toward mutiny. I called out the guard. A death-like stillness followed. Captain Mason was standing with the silence and firmness of stone. I stole a glance at Beelo and saw that he had slipped round through the trees to be nearer.
I rapped out an order for the guard to step forward. They looked round curiously at one another, some with a half-smile as they glanced at Captain Mason, to see if he approved. His face was expressionless. I repeated the order, more peremptorily, and in slowly rising they regarded me curiously and in some wonder, as they had never seen me with such a bearing. Whatever they saw and heard quickened their action. There was an impressive solemnity in the proceeding, and it strengthened them moment by moment. I did not hurry them, since it was clear that a sense of serious responsibility was rising in them.
“Lenardo, step forward and submit to arrest,” I sharply said to one of the recalcitrants, a decent young carpenter.
He paled, then flushed, and blunderingly turned to Mr. Vancouver. But that gentleman was gazing at me with all the hate of his soul. Annabel shrank under the significance of Lenardo’s silent appeal to her father. Receiving no guidance from Mr. Vancouver, the young culprit sent a fluttering, desperate look abroad, picking out his guilty associates. All the comfort he got from them was a frightened glance in return.
The impaled man wriggled awkwardly to his feet,—for I was giving him time,—and with a grin and shrug made a pitiful attempt to treat the arrest as a pleasantry.
“Stand facing that end of the guard-line,” I ordered, pointing.
“Come, Henry,” he said to one of the conspirators. The bravado was clearly sham.
“No talking!” I ripped out.
It jerked Lenardo straight, and he came forward and stood where I had directed.
The young man addressed as Henry slouched up with a faint trace of Lenardo’s swagger, but my sharp “Step lively!” electrified him into firmer action, and his grin went sour.
“Hobart!” I next called. I selected him for the third, for I knew his independent, rebellious nature, his courage and pride, and wished the severest test of the discipline to come at once.
Because we had been good friends and he knew that I respected him, he stared incredulously, but found me a stranger. Then a vicious look flared in his face, and, still sitting, he fingered the handle of a heavy iron vessel on the table while regarding me defiantly.
I waited, and then called him again.
“I won’t be made a fool of in this way!” he cried, rising, his face blazing, his hold on the iron vessel tightening.
“You two guards on the left, do your duty!” I commanded.
They hesitatingly advanced upon him. Making a great scattering of frightened women and children, Hobart stepped back, brandished the vessel, and shouted:
“I’m a free American citizen, I am! I’m a law-abiding man and I know my rights! Stand back, there,” to the guards, “or I’ll———”
“Two more guards from the left. Step lively!” I called.
The advance of the four guards was checked by a diversion. Mr. Vancouver, who had been sitting in apathetic silence, suddenly spoke out with biting clearness:
“Hobart, it is the duty of every one here to submit to authority.”
The young man opened his mouth in astonishment, and instantly drooped; the vessel clattered from his hand to the ground.
“I won’t make trouble now,” he grumbled, “but we’ve been played low down by somebody, and I’ll——-”
“Silence!” I said.
With a threatening shoulder-lift at Mr. Vancouver, which deepened that gentleman’s pallor, Hobart sullenly fell in. I quickly called out the other culprits; all obeyed and stood in line facing the guard. Then I looked round at Captain Mason for orders.