A voice replied to me: “We come to save you. Lose not an instant. Get out on the roof, and climb over to the other side, where we will await you, in the street of the Campanario.” Then two or three persons descended the stairs rapidly. I had recognised the voice of a Métis, whose good feelings on my behalf were beyond doubt. There was now no time to be lost, for at the moment I got out of a window which served to light the staircase, and led on to the roof, the Indians had arrived in front of the house, and in a few minutes were breaking and plundering the little I possessed. I quickly traversed the roof, and descended into the street of the Campanario, where my new preservers awaited me. They conducted me to their dwelling: there, a profound sleep caused me quickly to forget the dangers I had passed through.
The following day my friends prepared a small pirogue to convey me on board the Cultivateur, where, apparently, I should be in greater security than on shore. I was about to embark when one of my preservers handed me a letter which he had just received. It was addressed to me, and bore the signatures of all the captains whose vessels were lying in the harbour, and it informed me that, seeing themselves exposed every moment to an attack by the Indians, they were decided to raise anchor and seek a wider offing; but that two among them, Drouant and Perroux, had been compelled to leave on shore a portion of their possessions, and all their sails and fresh water. They entreated me to lend them my assistance, and had arranged that a skiff should be placed at my command. I communicated this letter to my friends, and declared that I would not return on board without endeavouring to satisfy the wishes of my countrymen; it was a question of saving the lives of the crews of two vessels, and hesitation was impossible. They used every effort to shake my resolution. “If you show yourself in any part of the town,” said they, “you are lost; even supposing the Indians were not to kill you, they would not fail to steal every object intrusted to them.” I remained immovable, and pointed out to them that it was a question of honour and humanity. “Go alone, then!” exclaimed that Métis who had contributed the most to my escape; “not one of us will follow you; we would not have it said that we assisted in your destruction.”
I thanked my friends, and, after shaking hands with them, passed on through the streets of Cavite, my pistols in my belt, and my thoughts occupied as to the best means of extricating myself from my perilous position. However, I already knew sufficient of the Indian character to be aware that boldness would conciliate, rather than enrage them. I went towards the same landing-place where once before I had escaped a great danger. The shore was covered with Indians, watching the ships at anchor. As I advanced, all turned their looks upon me; but, as I had foreseen, the countenances of these men, whose feelings had become calmed during the night that had intervened, expressed more astonishment than anger.
“Will you earn money?” I cried. “To those who work with me I will give a dollar at the end of the day.”
A moment’s silence followed this proposition; then one of them said: “You do not fear us!”
“Judge if I am alarmed,” I replied, showing him my pistols; “with these I could take two lives for one—the advantage is on my side.”
My words had a magical effect, and my questioner replied:
“Put up your weapons; you have a brave heart, and deserve to be safe amongst us. Speak! what do you require? We will follow you.” I saw these men, who but yesterday would have killed me, now willing to bear me in triumph. I then explained to them that I wished to take some articles which had been left on shore to my comrades, and to those who assisted me in this object I would give the promised recompense. I told the one who had addressed me to select two hundred men, nearly double the number necessary; during the time he made up his party I signaled a skiff to approach the shore, and wrote a few words in pencil, in order that the boats from the French vessels might be in readiness to receive the stores as soon as they were brought to the water’s edge. I then marched at the head of my Indian troop of two hundred men, and by their aid the sails, provisions, biscuits, and wines, were soon on board the boats. That which most embarrassed me was the transport of a large sum of money belonging to Captain Drouant. If the Indians had conceived the least suspicion of this wealth, they would no longer have kept faith with me. I therefore determined to fill my own pockets with the gold, and to traverse the distance between the house and the boats as many times as was necessary to embark it. There, concealed by the sailors, I deposited piece after piece as quietly as possible. In carrying the sails belonging to Captain Perroux, a circumstance occurred which might have been fatal to me. A few days before the massacre, a French sailor, who was working as sail maker, had died of the cholera. His alarmed companions wrapped the body in a sail, and then hurried on board their ships. My Indians now discovered the corpse, which was already in a state of putrefaction. Terrified at first, their terror soon changed to fury; for an instant I feared they would fall upon me.
“Your friends,” they cried, “have left this body here purposely, that it might poison the air and increase the violence of the epidemic.”
“What! you are afraid of a poor devil dead of the cholera!” I said to them, affecting to be as tranquil as possible; “never fear, I will soon rid you of him;” and, despite the aversion I felt, I covered the body with a small sail, and carried it down to the beach. There I made a rude grave, in which I placed it; and two pieces of wood, in the shape of a cross, for some days indicated the spot where lay the unhappy one, who probably had no prayers save mine.