Amabel was aware of this; and dreading lest this horrible plan of vengeance should occur to the soldiers, she took the first opportunity of enticing the child away from his father, and concealing him in a dark corner of the vessel. Here she charged the little William to remain quiet, and pointing to Tell, bade him observe how quiet his father was lying on the floor, his fettered hands clasped together and raised towards Heaven, whither his eyes directed devout and imploring glances, which reached the Preserver of innocence above the clouds.
—“What is my father doing?” enquired the child at length in a whisper.
—“He is praying for himself and for us,” answered Amabel.
—“Oh! then God will hear him, and help him; and then you know, we can creep out, and take away those ugly cords from his poor bleeding hands.”—
Amabel replied in the manner, which she thought most likely to satisfy the child; and a conversation was carried on in whispers between her and her little companion which gradually became interesting enough to prevent their observing that a dreadful storm was rising, that thick clouds had changed the day into night, and that the light vessel was forced far out of its intended course. The rolling of the thunder, the frequent flashes of lightning, and the heavy torrents of rain at length made both attentive and silent; till William proposed that he should steal to his father under covert of the thick darkness, and spread his little coat over him, for Tell lay entirely exposed to the tempest. Amabel burst into tears as she listened to the kind-hearted boy, then gave him her own cloak, and bade him hasten to alleviate the prisoner’s sufferings.
But Tell showed by no sign, that he was conscious of this affecting testimony of his child’s care: he remained with his hands clasped, and his eyes still fixed upon the heavens. Perhaps, the transactions of that day had blunted all his feelings; perhaps, he was revolving plans of escape, which never fail to occupy the thoughts of the captive hero, and whose future execution frequently prevent his being sensible of the weight of present calamities.
The tempest continued to rage: with every moment the danger of the slight vessel became more imminent. Tell, Amabel, and the child were now left by themselves. The other persons were employed in various quarters, endeavouring if possible to save the ship, which was already deprived of sail and mast. The prisoners were now the happiest of the party: they at least rejoiced in the hope of perishing together. The child too, who had no clear idea of the danger, and fancied that everything went wrong only because his father was in bonds, ceased not to exert all his little powers in endeavouring to untye the cords; but even with Amabel’s assistance he found the task too difficult for his strength.
While they were still employed in this unavailing labour, they heard the cry of distress increase with tenfold violence: presently some one on the upper deck exclaimed—“Now then all is lost! What winds and waves have failed in doing, will be done by the hidden rocks which abound upon this coast, and with which not a soul of us is acquainted. Oh! what would I now give to be as good a pilot as Tell, and to possess his knowledge of these shores!”—
Amabel started up, and listened with more attention. She heard the name of Tell frequently mentioned; and after a few minutes past in contention, some of the sailors approached the place, where she stood by the side of her unfortunate friend.
—“Tell,” said the Captain, “you know, that your life is forfeit to the law; but if you will engage to conduct the vessel safe to land, as a favour we will unbind you, and promise to do our utmost to obtain a milder sentence for you from the Emperor’s mercy.”—