Cudjo's Cave - Part 59
Library

Part 59

Fired by the prospect of seeing Virginia in his power, Augustus had but one important order to give: "Bring your prisoners to me here!"

Instead of proceeding directly to the cave, Lysander used strategy. He knew that if his movements were observed, and their object suspected, Virginia would have ample time to escape with her father and old Toby into the interior caverns, where it might be extremely difficult to discover them. He accordingly started in the direction of the sink, as if with intent to reenforce the soldiers fighting there; then, dropping suddenly into a hollow, he made a short turn to the left, and advanced swiftly, under cover of rocks and bushes, towards the ledge that concealed the cave.

"How _could_ you let him go, Toby!" cried Virginia, filled with consternation at the prisoner's escape. For she saw all the mischievous consequences that were likely to follow in the track of that fatal error: Cudjo's secret, so long faithfully kept, now in evil hour betrayed; the cave attacked and captured, and the brave men fighting at the sink, believing their retreat secure, taken suddenly in the rear; and so disaster, if not death, resulting to her father, to Penn, to all.

The anguish of her tones pierced the poor old negro's soul.

"Dunno', missis, no more'n you do! 'Pears like he done gnawed off de rope wiv his teef!" For Lysander, having used the knife, had hidden it under the skins on which he sat.

Then Salina spoke, and denounced herself. After all the pains she had taken to conceal her agency in Sprowl's escape,--inconsistent, impetuous, filled with rage against herself and him,--she exclaimed,--

"I did it! Here is the knife I gave him!"

Virginia stood white and dumb, looking at her sister. Toby could only tear his old white wool and groan.

"Salina," said her father, solemnly, "you have done a very treacherous and wicked thing! I pity you!"

Severest reproaches could not have stung her as these words, and the terrified look of her sister, stung the proud and sensitive Salina.

"I have done a d.a.m.nable thing! I know it. Do you ask what made me? The devil made me. I knew it was the devil at the time; but I did it."

"O, what shall we do, father?" said Virginia.

"There is nothing you can do, my daughter, unless you can reach our friends and warn them."

"O," she said, in despair, "there is not a lamp or a torch! All have been taken!"

"And it is well! It would take you at least an hour to go and return; and that man--" Mr. Villars would never, if he could help it, speak Lysander's name--"will be here again before that time, if he is coming."

"He is not coming," said Salina. "He swore to me that he would not take advantage of his escape to betray or injure any of you. He will keep his oath. If he does not----"

She paused. There was a long, painful silence; the old man musing, Virginia wringing her hands, Toby keeping watch outside.

"Listen!" said Salina. "I am a woman. But I will defend this place. I will stand there, and not a man shall enter till I am dead. As for you, Jinny, take _him_, and go. You can hide somewhere in the caves. Leave me and Toby. I will not ask you to forgive me; but perhaps some time you will think differently of me from what you do now."

"Sister!" said Virginia, with emotion, "I do forgive you! G.o.d will forgive you too; for he knows better than we do how unhappy you have been, and that you could not, perhaps, have done differently from what you have done."

Salina was touched. She threw her arms about Virginia's neck.

"O, I have been a bad, selfish girl! I have made both you and father very unhappy; and you have been only too kind to me always! Now leave me alone--go! I hope I shall not trouble you much longer."

She brushed back her hair from her large white forehead, and smiled a strange and vacant smile. Virginia saw that her wish was to die.

"Sister," she said gently, "we will all stay together, if you stay. We must not give up this place! Our friends are lost--we are lost--if we give it up! Perhaps we can do something. Indeed, I think we can! If we only had arms! Women have used arms before now!"

Toby entered. "Dey ain't comin' dis yer way, nohow! Dey's gwine off to de norf, hull pa.s.sel on 'em."

"Give me that pistol, Toby," said Salina. "You can use Cudjo's axe, if we are attacked. Place it where you can reach it, and then return to your lookout. Don't be deceived; but warn us at once if there is danger."

"My children," said the old man, "come near to me! I would I could look upon you once; for I feel that a separation is near. Dear daughters!"--he took a hand of each,--"if I am to leave you, grieve not for me; but love one another. Love one another. To you, Salina, more especially, I say this; for though I know that deep down in your heart there is a fountain of affection, you are apt to repress your best feelings, and to cherish uncharitable thoughts. For your own good, O, do not do so any more! Believe in G.o.d. Be a child of G.o.d. Then no misfortune can happen to you. My children, there is no great misfortune, other than this--to lose our faith in G.o.d, and our love for one another.

I do not fear bodily harm, for that is comparatively nothing. For many years I have been blind; yet have I been blest with sight; for night and day I have seen G.o.d. And as there is a more precious sight than that of the eyes, so there is a more precious life than this of the body. The life of the spirit is love and faith. Let me know that you have this, and I shall no longer fear for you. You will be happy, wherever you are.

Why is it I feel such trust that Virginia will be provided for? Salina, let your heart be like hers, and I shall no longer fear for you!"

"I wish it was! I wish it was!" said Salina, pouring out the anguish of her heart in those words. "But I cannot make it so. I cannot be good! I am--Salina! Is there fatality in a name?"

"I know the infirmity of your natural disposition, my child. I know, too, what circ.u.mstances have done to embitter it. Our heavenly Father will take all that into account. Yet there is no one who has not within himself faults and temptations to contend with. Many have far greater than yours to combat, and yet they conquer gloriously. I cannot say more. My children, the hour has come which is to decide much for us all.

Remember my legacy to you,--Have Faith and Love."

They knelt before him. He laid his hands upon their heads, and in a brief and fervent prayer blessed them. Both were sobbing. Tears ran down his cheeks also; but his countenance was bright in its uplifted serenity, wearing a strange expression of grandeur and of joy.

XLIII.

_THE COMBAT._

Pomp, rifle in hand, bearing a torch, led the patriots on their rapid return through the caverns.

"Lights down!" he said, as they approached the vicinity of the sink. "We shall see them; but they must not see us."

They halted at the natural bridge; the torch was extinguished, and the patriots placed their lanterns under a rock. They then advanced as swiftly as possible in the obscurity, along the bank of the stream. In the hall of the bats they met Carl, who had seen their lights and come towards them.

"Hurry! hurry!" he said. "They are coming down the trees like the devil's monkeys! a whole carawan proke loose!"

Captain Grudd commanded the patriots; but Pomp commanded Captain Grudd.

"Quick, and make no noise! We have every advantage; the darkness is on our side--those loose rocks will shelter us."

They advanced until within a hundred yards of where the shaft of daylight came down. There they could distinguish, in the shining cleft under the brow of the cavern, and above the rocky embankment, the forms of their a.s.sailants. Some had already gained a footing. Others were descending the tree-trunks in a dark chain, each link the body of a rebel.

"We must stop that!" said Pomp.

The men were deployed forward rapidly, and a halt ordered, each choosing his position.

"Ready! Aim!"

At that moment, half a dozen men of the attacking party advanced, feeling their way over the rocks down which Penn and his companions had been seen to escape. The leader, shielding his eyes with his hand, peered into the gloom of the cavern. Coming from the light, he could see nothing distinctly. Suddenly he paused: had he heard the words of command whispered? or was he impressed by the awful mystery and silence?

"Fire!" said Captain Grudd.

Instantly a jagged line of flashes leaped across the breast of the darkness, accompanied by a detonation truly terrible. Each gun with its echoes, in those cavernous solitudes, thundered like a whole park of artillery: what, then, was the effect of the volley? The patriots were themselves appalled by it. The mountain trembled, and a gusty roar swept through its shuddering chambers, throbbing and pulsing long after the smoke of the discharge had cleared away.

Pomp laughed quietly, while Withers exclaimed, "By the Etarnal! if I didn't fancy the hull ruf of the mountain had caved in!"

"Load!" said Captain Grudd, sternly.