At that moment a tremendous flash of lightning illuminated the whole scene. Tell descried an immense tree at a slight distance growing out of a rock which they were approaching, and extending its arms far over the foaming flood—
“Amabel!” cried Tell, “dare you seize a bough of that tree as we pass under it, suffer the bark to be carried away from you, and cling fast to the branch, till I have time to come to your assistance?”—
—“I dare! I dare!” cried Amabel in the tone of desperation—“But the child! Oh! God! the child!”—
—“Be that my care!—Be prepared!—Now then!” he cried, and was obeyed. He saw that she had fast hold of the bough, and in the same moment he seized the boy with his left arm, with his right turned the rudder to-wards the rock, then sprang boldly from the deck, and left the vessel with its unthankful freight a prey to the raging flood. The tempest seized it; the rudder was broken in the shock, and dreadful was the shriek of the crew, as the fury of the winds and waves drove it far away over the roaring billows. Tell sprang upon the rock unhurt; he hastily climbed up the upper part of the coast, and having placed the boy on the ground, he flew to give Amabel his assistance. But she, who was deficient neither in strength of body or presence of mind, had already found means to gain the rock in which the tree was rooted, had forced her way through all impediments, and had nearly reached the loftiest of the broken cliffs, before he could arrive. He assisted her to attain the summit, when she instantly sank on her knees, and returned thanks to God with all the joy of one just rescued from destruction.
But I forget, that Tell and Amabel are in fact foreign to my story, and I have already suffered myself to dwell on their adventures too long, to the prejudice of my real heroines. I will therefore pass over in silence the circumstances which followed their escape from the vessel, and those which again threw them into Gessler’s power. Suffice it to say, that the dart which the Avenger of human nature seemed to have reserved for that express purpose, the dart which Tell had shown Gessler, in the first burst of his indignation, that very dart pierced the tyrant’s bosom; and thus was Helvetia freed from a monster, who had laid waste her tranquil vallies with circumstances of much greater cruelty, than were ever attributed to fabled dragons in the Legends of Romance.
After performing this dangerous act of justice, Tell betook himself to Stein, where he intended to take refuge with Werner Bernsdorf. Here he found new cause to rejoice at having rid the world of Gessler. Bernsdorf’s new-raised edifice, the admiration of the whole country, lay an heap of ashes! Gessler had thought it too good for a private man, and had threatened to pull it down. Werner laughed at his threats, for it seemed to be no trifle to destroy the property of a man of his consequence, while living in the midst of a neighbourhood, where every arm and every heart were devoted to his service: but he did not reflect, that villany can find a hundred secret means for effecting its purposes. In the depth of the night a fire broke out, which, from its bursting all at once from the four corners of the building, and at a time when all were buried in sleep, gained ground too rapidly to admit of its being got under. Werner and Gertrude saved nothing from the flames, except their lives. Every one exclaimed against secret incendiaries, and no one doubted by whose orders this shameful action had been committed: in fact, there were proofs sufficient to make it morally certain, that the author of this mischief could be no other than Gessler.
The sight of his friend’s distress (for this fire had reduced Werner to beggary) raised Tell’s indignation to the highest pitch. He left Amabel and his son to the care of Gertrude, and hastened with Bernsdorf in disguise back to Altdorf, to consult with Walter Forest and Henric Melthal on the best and speediest means of rescuing Helvetia from her disgraceful yoke. Arnold Melthal also, who had but lately escaped from the dungeons of the Abbot of St. Gall, increased their band; and the union of five men so remarkable for courage and for prudence produced such fortunate and such glorious consequences, as will immortalize their names to the latest posterity[[1]].
[1]. Bernsdorf’s real name was Staufacher.
Bloomberg hastened to Stein, to rejoice with his wife at her escape, and to efface in her embraces the injurious impressions, to which his too easy heart had given way during their separation. Spite and Envy had not neglected the opportunity of calumniating one of Amabel’s noblest actions. Her frank and guileless nature had prevented her from making it a secret, that the admirable William Tell had been the first love of her innocent heart; and her voluntary forsaking her family, in order that she might share the fate of that gallant prisoner (a circumstance of which all Altdorf had been an eye-witness) had found that misinterpretation, which Calumny is always so eager to bestow on those heroic actions, of which she feels herself incapable.
Fortunately the heart of Edmund Bloomberg was not more prone to jealous doubts, than open to conviction. Nothing more than the sight of his excellent brother, and the relation of the true circumstances of the case, was necessary to make him feel the folly of suspecting the integrity of such a man. He requested his lovely wife to forgive his unjust suspicions; and the temporary separation of their hearts seemed to have renewed his former love with such violence, that he could not resolve to tear himself away from her, in spite of his earnest desire to participate with his friends in the glorious attempt to rescue Helvetia from her chains.