The governor, finding they had escaped, proceeded on board an armed vessel, and immediately sailed in pursuit of the enemy. The morning that succeeded that disastrous night was one of West Indian beauty; not a vapour was abroad; the sky was one deep, lovely blue, and the sea looked like fluid light. Seated upon the high poop, anxiously did the governor scan the waters in hopes of seeing the canoes; but nothing met his eye—not even a speck appeared to raise his hopes. Hour after hour passed away, but no sight of the fugitives; night drew on, and the breeze died away; the sails flapping heavily against the mast bespoke another calm. How tedious seemed those hours of darkness—how fervently was the morning wished for; but just before dawn the wind sprung up, and soon after the mountains of Dominica appeared in sight. Slowly but surely the vessel glided on, every eye watching for some trace of the lost ones, when, in the opening of a little bay, two empty canoes were discovered. Could these be the same they were in quest of? was the anxious query; and if so, where could their owners be? Orders were given to let go the anchor, and prepare the boats; and in a short time the governor and his party, all well armed, were landed upon the beach.
A beaten path led up to the mountains, and it was determined to pursue it in hopes of it leading to some dwelling, where they might obtain information. As it proceeded, however, it became more and more intricate, guava bushes, aloes, and the prickly pear, grew thickly together, while different species of parasites conspired to render the path more impervious. In some places it was almost obstructed by these various bushes, interspersed with larger trees, so that the companions of the governor were for returning, supposing no one could have passed that way lately. But he was determined to proceed a little further; and had just stretched out his hand to sever with his sword the overhanging boughs of an acacia, when suddenly he made a start, his heart beat almost to bursting, and, unable to speak, he pointed to his amazed followers a portion of white taffeta hanging to one of its sharp thorns. This, he felt assured, must have been torn from the robe of his wife; and, consequently, that was the road her conquerors must have carried her. Upon further search among the rank and tangled grass, in hopes of discovering prints of footsteps, marks of blood were observed. These led to further inquiries. Could they have murdered her there? But no; had such been the case, greater quantities of blood would have marked the deed. Perhaps she might have been wounded, and placed in some concealment near. Again they proceeded, guided by the drops of blood, until, coming to an abrupt turn of the path, about a dozen Caribs’ huts lay stretched before them, and their fierce inmates lolling around the open doors.
In less than a minute all was confusion. Confident that this was the party who had stolen his wife, the governor rushed upon them furious with passion. Nothing could resist his power; Carib after Carib lay stretched by the prowess of his arm; and springing over his prostrate foes, the anxious husband entered the principal hut, which he had observed was carefully guarded throughout the fray. A well-known voice called his name, an infant’s cry of joy saluted his ear, and, bursting open an inner door, his weeping wife was in his arms, and his darling child clinging around his knees. It took but little time to quit that spot, and retrace the mountain path. The drops of blood he had seen were occasioned by his wife’s shoe coming off, and the rugged ascent cutting her tender feet, upon her journey to the Caribs’ huts. The boat was quickly gained, and in a few minutes they reached the ship, and, unfurling the sails, they sought the shores of Antigua, where they arrived in safety.
Hitherto all was well. Happy in again seeing her husband, and knowing herself and child were safe, that lady still took comfort, although mourning the untimely fate of her other darling. But this did not last long. Other thoughts arose in her husband’s breast—thoughts too horrible to mention.
“Oh! what dreadful minutes tells he o’er,
Who dotes, still doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves.”
In vain his poor unhappy wife protested she was pure.
“Jealousy is a green-eyed monster,
That doth mock the food it feeds upon;”
and by its whispers drove him, who was the affectionate friend and protector, to be the harsh and implacable tyrant. No longer enjoying the society of his wife, he determined to get rid of her; and for this purpose built a keep in Ding-a-Ding Nook, and, conveying his wife hither, left her to wear away her life in hopeless misery.
This is the legend; and well might that Nook be selected for such a place of seclusion, for it is a valley completely shut in by the surrounding mountains, and open only to the sea. I have heard another version of this story, which says, the governor and his lady parted by mutual consent, and that it was her wish to have a house built in that spot. Surely, if this was the case, she must have had the taste of an anchorite.