And many other rude jests which reached only the ears of La Caille, De Brésac, myself and those few who were standing by them. For a moment I wavered. There was something much after my own heart in the way these brave fellows defied this Menendez, casting themselves out into the wilderness of forest and swamp where death would certainly find them. They had a fighting chance and La Caille, De Brésac and I would have gone with them; but I knew that the surer way to Mademoiselle was that which I had chosen, and so I wavered not for long.
By the time the sun was down the matter was settled, but few still standing aloof. About two hundred officers and men had gone to the further side, refusing to surrender, and were now forming into some kind of martial order under Arlac, a sea-lieutenant named Pierre Le Jeune and another called D’Alençon. The remainder, among them the Sieur de la Notte, La Caille, De Brésac, Bourdelais, Bachasse, Ottigny, Job Goddard, Salvation Smith, myself and many other soldiers and gentlemen as well as seamen, to the number of about one hundred and fifty, stood on the side of the Admiral.
With the vain hope that one of the French ships might yet appear unharmed to take us off, the Admiral determined to wait until the morning before crossing the channel, and so informed Menendez de Avilés by messenger.
The night fell chill and gusty, for it was well into the middle of October. That last night we remained together, those of one party sending messages by those of the other to any refugees from Fort Caroline who might be discovered, or friends in France whom they might not see again. Huge fires were lit upon the beach in order that any vessels sailing on the coast might see us and come to the rescue. Around these we sat or lay, some of us sleeping but most of us waking—until the dawn. When the stars began to pale a little, Le Jeune, Arlac and D’Alençon got their men in motion, taking as many arms with them as was needful, and marched down the beach in the direction from which we had come. And that was the last I saw of them.
[CHAPTER XIV.]
THE MARTYRDOM.
The morning of that dreadful day dawned cold and clear. In the east over the ocean the sky was bright and glorious as though the heavens were opening. But scan the sea as we might, not a sail appeared and all hope of thus saving ourselves from imprisonment was gone.
When the company of Arlac had disappeared around the point a league or so away to the southward, the Admiral arose from where he had been lying upon the beach by one of the fires and, calling about him those who would come, knelt down upon the sand and fervently prayed for the safety of those who had been spared until that day. Then rising he went down the beach and with La Caille, Bourdelais and myself, entered the canoe and we were rowed rapidly to the other shore. The Admiral, in order to keep his part of the compact with De Avilés, carried with him the royal standard and other flags, his sword, dagger, helmet, buckler and the official seal given him by Coligny.