“You wish proofs,” he then said quickly. “Very well, you shall have them!”
And going to the edge of the bushes he gave some orders, while we stood horror-stricken. In a while came three soldiers bringing some weapons and a sack. Arlac the Ensign, with a look of dismay upon his face, seized upon a sword which was thrust toward him.
“Par la bonté de Dieu,” he cried. “It is La Vigne’s very own!”
And then we saw dishes and platters bearing the Arms of Réné de Laudonnière, two axes, dark-stained and broken at the handle, but bearing the name of a maker of Dieppe, a canteen, a cross-bow—all of which were known of De Brésac and La Caille. I pray that never again may any man upon the earth be given such sufferings of mind as began for me from that moment.
Diane—Diane!——
No, no, I would not believe it! The Sieur de la Notte, who had been looking vacantly from La Caille to Arlac the Ensign, fell heavily to the beach uttering a moan which sounded more like that of some poor beast than of a man. I thought that he was dead. He made no move though we dashed water at his head again and again. At last his breathing came with difficulty and when some wine had been poured down his throat he lifted his head and tried to speak.
“Señor Adelantado,” he cried, trembling and halting at every word,—at the terror of uttering it,—“my daughter—Diane—Diane de la Notte—she is not—dead—dead. For the love of God—say that—she is not—dead!” And the love he bore her in that speech welded his soul and mine so tight together that not even death could draw us apart.
But the Adelantado would give no answer, only standing there with folded arms gloating upon our misfortune like some great snake upraised to strike, yet sure of his prey and charming by his venomousness. Surely it was the very perfection of cruelty; for the old man lifted himself to a sitting posture with both hands upraised and then fell back upon the sand making no sound. Lifting the poor gentleman in my arms I carried him down the beach to the canoe, where I laid him upon a boat-cloak.
But that was not all. Fearful of some new discovery, yet bewitched and trusting in the word of this Spaniard we followed him and his officers up the beach. One horror but waited upon another. The Spaniards made no concealment of it, and now I knew the reason of the dread horror that had hung upon me. Not only did I see dismembered human legs, half covered with sand, but here and there a body bearing no longer any human semblance. The Adelantado walked a little in advance, swerving neither to the right nor to the left for the dreadful things which his boots frequently touched, regardless,—familiar. Once he stumbled in the sand and cursing, like to have fallen as he uncovered a human head which rolled over until it sat upon its neck, the beard spreading out fan-wise upon the sand and the face through the matted hair grinning fiercely. Arlac and the Admiral, being in front, fell back shuddering, turning whiter even than the sand and holding each other by the arms. I looked at the dreadful object and my blood turned to water. The thing was Verdier!
The Admiral would now go no further, saying that he had seen enough and wished only to go away from it all. But Menendez, in great good humor, smiled, saying it were better to see and know all that could be known. And we believed him. We were heedless of treachery—or aught else, for it seemed to matter little now whether we lived or died, and there was a horrible fascination which seemed to lead us on in spite of ourselves. And so we followed, trembling.