Nearer came the long-boat, yet nearer was the foremost swimmer. I saw his brown arms cleaving the clear tide, I saw the white eyeballs gleaming in his dark face. Friends and foes were now so close together that from the shore it was impossible to distinguish them; so the shots had ceased, and in their place rang out wild curses and savage yells. A sinewy brown hand rose from the water and seized the edge of our frail canoe, tilting it far over. The sudden jerk destroyed my balance, and in a moment I felt the waters close over my head.
Strong hands grasped me as I rose again and I battled fiercely; for I thought the Indian had me in his hold, and I chose rather, to die. But my weak strength was overcome, and I was lifted—aye, thank God!—lifted into the English boat, and Master Collins wiped the water from my face.
I saw them drag the dame in also, and then I closed my eyes. I did not faint,—never in all my life had I been so very much alive; but the sunlight and the blue sky were too bright for me.
I cannot tell much of what followed. There were a few more shots, and one of the English sailors dropped his oar and held up a bleeding hand. I sought my kerchief to bind it up for him, but I could not find it. And then, I looked up and saw the Carolina close beside us. A ringing cheer went up to heaven, and kind hands raised me to the deck. The sunburnt face of Captain Brayne bent over me, and there were tears in his honest eyes.
CHAPTER XXII.
There were other women on the ship, and one of them came forward and led me away to her cabin and aided me to rid myself of my drenched garments, lending me others in their stead. I learned from her that the Carolina had come direct from Barbadoes, bearing freight and some very few passengers,—the noise of our treatment at the Spaniards' hands deterring many who would else have ventured to throw in their lot with the young colony. Captain Brayne bore also the duplicate of the orders of the Spanish Council—which had been forwarded from England to Barbadoes; and he had been instructed by their Lordships the Proprietors, to stop at San Augustin and demand the prisoners.
All this my new friend told me during her kindly ministrations. She asked, also, many questions concerning my escape and the treatment I had received during our long captivity; but I was too exhausted to answer these at length, and begged that I might be left awhile to rest. She went away then, to get me a soothing potion from the ship's surgeon; and I made haste to unwrap the little packet that had lain hidden in my bosom, in which was the written story of my prison life. As I smoothed out the damp pages I thought of how I would place it in my dear love's hand and leave him to read all that my tongue could never say to him!
I slept for some hours and woke refreshed. Then came a message from the captain, asking if I would see him. I was eager to be out, for many reasons, the chief being my desire to see him from whom I had been so long parted; it was his face I sought first among the many familiar ones that crowded round me. Besides Captain Brayne I recognized other officers of the Carolina as the same with whom I had sailed from the Downs nearly two years ago. All my fellow prisoners—save one—greeted me joyfully and kindly. But that one missing face—where was it?