“I cannot be sure my followers will do that,” returned the Admiral, “but there is little doubt that under this promise the greater part of my officers and men will surrender upon these terms as honorable prisoners of war. With your permission I will return and consult with those in command upon the other shore.”
“Do as you will. Other than this you can have neither truce nor friendship with me.” His manner after this was more cordial than before and left a good impression upon our minds.
With formal salutations on both sides, we returned to the canoe. As we were conveyed to our comrades upon the other shore the Sieur de la Notte lay against my knee, conscious, but more dead with grief than alive. I could say little save that I thought Mademoiselle was still living; but I could not tell why, and he took no comfort.
In spite of the sights we had seen and the massacre of the company of the Gloire it was plain to all who had heard him that the words and manner of Menendez contained an assurance of protection for such of us as would surrender; but few were in a mood to give up without a battle.
The horror which hung over us and the tidings of the fall of Fort Caroline had unnerved me. But the absence of Diego de Baçan I took for a favorable augury, and fancied that perhaps Mademoiselle had escaped to Satouriona and that De Baçan was searching for her. I knew that not all at Fort Caroline had been killed, for one of the officers had said as much. I could not believe Mademoiselle dead, for, that being so, I felt that some instinct should tell me of it and I should have no further wish for life. But back upon the shore my love of life returned to me tenfold. I wished to live to find Mademoiselle, and would perform any feat or strategy to save her and carry her back with me to England. If she were alive, my death would not help her; if she were dead, then my own life could be given in no better cause than in taking satisfaction against him who had slain her.
It was no easy matter to decide. Whether to stay upon the sand-spit to die of hunger or at the hands of the Indians, or to surrender to Menendez and be sent for life to the galleys, I could not determine. Either plan promised little enough. In the one case I was not sure that communication with the interior could be found, for dangerous swamps and quicksands ran this way and that, making progress almost impossible; and starvation was imminent. Before we could come to the domain of Satouriona there were miles of hostile country, the traversing of which would take many weeks, perhaps months. To surrender seemed equally desperate. We had seen the deeds of which this madman was capable; and in spite of his word of honor, which holds high among men of authority, and which he now wished to give under seal, his humor might change and our fate be that of those who had gone before. But by the one plan I could not hear of Mademoiselle for months; by the other I would be carried straightway to San Augustin by our enemies, and might see her within the week. The thought enthralled me.
By some ruse and skill I would effect her escape. De Baçan probably thought me dead; and unless Mademoiselle had told him, could not know that I was of this expedition. And the beard which had grown upon my face might well disguise me; so that until I was prepared to meet him on equal footing I would not let my presence be known.
In a little while the Admiral sent another messenger across the water offering a ransom of an hundred thousand ducats, and the answer which came back encouraged us much more. He would accept the ransom, he said, “it would much grieve him not to do so, for he had great need of it.” I felt that I could not do better than to become a captive, and so win my way most quietly to where the prisoners of Fort Caroline were confined.
Toward evening, the sun being about an hour from setting, the Admiral mounted upon a hummock of sand and addressed his desperate little army in the following terms: