Hopeful Kent took very good care to keep in as safe a place as possible during the fight, yet he had an arrow wound in his left arm. Mrs. Dare had bathed it, and was binding it up for him, when Patience ran up and said, “Mistress Wilkins wanted her in a hurry, please.” She went quickly to the elder-bush which sheltered the place where Mrs. Harvey lay. She had roused enough to take her poor baby. Mistress Wilkins was bending over her; just as Eleanor Dare came up, she opened her eyes and looked around as if to find some one. Then her lips moved, and they could just hear her say, “Martin!” He heard her, and was by her side in a second. But the lips had closed forever.
The baby stirred and began its mournful wail, as Eleanor lifted it gently out of the mother’s arms, where it would never lie again. The morning sun sent down a long golden ray, which forced its way through the trees, and lighted the pale face that was at rest forever. The whole forest, birds and animals, seemed to wake to life together, and began their hymn of praise and thanksgiving just as Mistress Wilkins crossed the hands on the still breast, saying, “Grant her eternal rest, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon her!”
Mrs. Harvey’s death was one more horror added to that awful night. All seemed too much stunned by what they had been through, to be shocked, or even much surprised, at anything. Howe helped poor Martin Harvey to make a rude coffin, in which they laid the body of Elizabeth’s mother. Patience gathered vines and flowers, and laid them about the peaceful face. At sunset the deposed Governor Gage read the service, and they carried the coffin away. The twins, poor little things, cried bitterly, as did the little rosy boy, and the big girl, who tried hard to take her mother’s place to the other three. And the poor baby, Elizabeth, wailed more sadly than ever.
Another night crept on, and the summer seemed to have come back for a little while. Though it was warm, not one star came out, and Patience was afraid. Once more the dreadful yell, once more the forest was alive with Wanchese’s men. Fierce and wild was the fight between the red and the white men. Here and there the palisade began to yield; a blazing arrow had set more than one place on fire. Cries and yells again made the night hideous. The owls and herons once more joined in with their weird, screeching cry.
Mrs. Dare sat holding the two babies, the women and children were huddled about her, when Howe called her away out of their hearing.
“An hour more and the palisade must fall, you must not be here then. You had better go to Manteo quickly.”
“How can we?” she asked simply.
“I have a plan,” he said. “It is dangerous, but it is more dangerous for you to stay here; every moment makes the place less safe.”