Long Ago, Far Away, Esmè Stuart [the false prince .txt] 📗
- Author: Esmè Stuart
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Etta, who had been listening to all this, now added anxiously:
'But, dear Carlo, suppose Andreas does not return, how can we ever find you or Harry?'
'I will tell you, Señora,' said Andreas. 'You are right to ask, for the island has no name for the white men, and I never myself knew of a ship that stopped there. Give me some paper.'
Taking the parchment-like pith, which was all the prisoners could procure to write on, Andreas roughly marked out with a thorn the position of the island with regard to its distance from St. Catherine, making clever indications to show where dangerous rocks were to be found, and on which side the island could be approached.
'Keep that by you, Señorita, and if you can get away in a big ship, the Captain will understand where to find the Señor Carlo.' He then made his Indian salutation and departed, saying he had much to do before the next sunset, and that if all were well he would come and fetch the Señor Carlo the next evening; but, till then, he advised great care, for fear of discovery.
It was, indeed, a very anxious day the family spent, but also a busy one. Felipa made a little needle-book for her brother; Etta plaited him a basket; and Catalina did up two blankets in as small a bundle as was possible: whilst Doña Elena unsewed some gold pieces she had secreted about her, and made a belt for Carlo, in which she hid this money, in case they sighted a ship and needed provisions or passage-money. Then, lastly, when the soldier's visit was over, and they had heard from him that the dog-hunt had not been successful, for the animals had lost the scent: but they meant to go again when the moon rose, being sure the young rascal was hidden somewhere in the woods, for a negro had seen him with his own eyes--then at last Carlo came out of his dismal hiding-place, and all together the prisoners earnestly prayed for a safe journey, and that God would save them out of the hands of their enemies. Felipa cried much as she kissed her brother, feeling sure she would never see him again; and Etta sent messages to Harry, saying he was not to forget her if he went home to England, and to tell her uncle of her; and, lastly, Catalina invoked every blessing which every saint could give on her dear foster-child. Then came Andreas' call; he had done wonders, having procured a boat, which he had hidden in a creek right at the foot of Santa Teresa, and where Harry now was awaiting them, hardly daring to move for fear of making the slightest noise and so attracting the guards. And thus once more, the friends were scattered.
CHAPTER XIX.
IN A LONELY SPOT.
The dark night happily favoured them; and what was also in their favour was the fact that Sieur Simon's boat lay at anchor, and his hoys had been plying backwards and forwards all the afternoon, making the men on guard pay but little attention to the gentle plash of the oars as Andreas and Harry sent the long boat shooting off into the bay. One thought distressed the faithful Andreas: he had done his best to lay in a store of food, but he knew it was a very inadequate provision if the boys were to be left long in the desert island.
No one spoke for some time; then, when they had safely passed the ship, and were well out to sea, they had plenty to say to each other. Harry told how he had heard the baying of the dogs from his hiding-place; how they had come nearer and nearer, and he had felt a strange horror, which nothing else had ever given him before, at the idea of being torn in pieces by those blood-thirsty animals; then how the sounds had told him the dogs were close at hand, the shouting and yelling negroes urging them on, and the pirates mingling oaths with these cries as they were entangled in the scrub or the mangrove branches. Yes, and at last they had come close by, up to the foot of the tree, and had paused there as the baying dogs rushed round and round undecided, till one of them had evidently scented out the trail made by Andreas, and the negroes had hunted the dogs forward. Harry's face as he told the story still bore traces of the terrible ordeal he had passed through during those few moments of intense suspense.
'I fancied before that I was brave, but I only know that when I heard those evil beasts I had no more courage left in me than a zany at a village fair; and when they had passed by, I lay on the floor of my hiding-place as if I were already dead. I have never before been in such dire terror of my life; but in truth such barbarous ways are not honest warfare.'
'Yet I saw my father hunted down by wild dogs,' said Andreas, on whom this fact had made a lasting impression; and Carlo looked grave, for he knew well enough that his people it was who had perpetrated such cruelties on the gentle Indians, and that Spain would ever have to bear the shame of the first cruelties in the New World--cruelties which other nations had not been slow to adopt; till the black plague-spot had spread all over the fair lands and the newly discovered islands.
All night they rowed hard, and when daylight came, and with it all the glory of the tropical sunrise, St. Catherine was no longer in sight; and unless any other knew the secret of the desert island and betrayed the knowledge to Sieur Simon, they were saved. Each in his own heart thanked God.
Harry's face began to recover its more cheerful expression: he was not leaving his loved ones as was Carlo; but was this journey bringing him much nearer his own home?
'When shall we sight this place?' asked Carlo wearily, when the sun beating down on their heads reminded him that he was now not nearly as strong as before his illness; 'and what do you call it, Andreas? It seems as if we were going to a land of nowhere.'
'It has no name known to the white men, Señor; but my father, who took me there when I was a boy, always called it by an Indian name which meant "Queen of the Water," because of the one tall Jagua palm-tree which stands high and solitary on it, and can be seen from a long distance.'
'Then we are already in sight,' said Harry suddenly. 'Look, Andreas, there, right ahead! You have come straight as an arrow.'
This welcome news gave them fresh courage, and on they sped. Nearer and nearer they came; they could now discern the wild scrub bordering the sand on which the surf painted a long line of white foam; they could see the motion of the leaves as the soft breeze disturbed the luxuriant undergrowth; but suddenly Andreas, standing up, dropped his oar from sheer surprise.
'Queen of the Water is not a desert island now!' he said. 'Look, Señor!'
The boys also gazed now at the shore; and there, sure enough, on a small rock that jutted out into the sea, they saw a weird-looking figure walking slowly up and down, and waving long thin arms as if to warn off the intruders. The man, who hardly looked human even from this distance, appeared to be intent only on this one action; and so strange did it seem, that the three looked at each other with the same question expressed on their faces, and this was, 'Shall we land?'
[Illustration: "SHALL WE LAND?" (missing from book)]
'If there is one man there may be more,' said Carlo, in despair; 'but I can row no more. We may as well be killed here as go on to another island and die by the way.'
'He is no Indian, but a white man,' remarked Andreas, again scanning the rock; 'his beard is long, and his hair too. He either wishes us ill, or wishes to warn us from some danger; and yet I never heard of any one living here. This is indeed a misfortune.'
'Well, we must risk it,' said Harry, seeing Carlo was looking terribly white and done up; 'and I think if we run the boat in here, at our right hand, that old fellow will not come up with us till we are well landed, for he will have nigh upon a mile to walk. If I'm not right, you may call me an ass for my pains, Carlo.'
Andreas approved, and presently they were obliged to keep all their wits sharp in order to enter the semicircular harbour, for there was some danger in getting the boat through the tumbling surf. But the Indian was too well accustomed to landing a boat to come to grief, and very soon the three stood on firm land; and after dragging up the boat out of reach of the waves, they looked anxiously around their new home. Near them, above the low cliff, was a clearing made by nature, where grew bananas, cacao, and bois-immortel, among which could also be seen a few orange-trees and Avocado pears; so that there was no fear of dying of thirst. But what interested them most was the strange weird figure, who, instead of following them, still kept on the same rock, and still waved his arms as if warding off some visible enemy. Andreas gazed a few minutes in silence; then all at once his eyes lighted up.
'It is no enemy: it must be a poor man whom the pirates have brought here. That is their fashion. I have heard them speak of it. They land some one who has offended them, and leave him to die alone; though often they will give him a musket and a little powder.'
'Then I should say that poor man is mad,' said Harry. 'If so, he may be more dangerous than a pirate. But look, Andreas; if the pirates have been once they may come again.'
'No, not for many a long day; they must have sighted this desert island by chance, and landed this poor man here, knowing it was uninhabited.'
'Well, I will go and see what I can make of him,' said Harry, 'whilst you get a rest, Carlo; for you must not be ill here, and Andreas will begin unloading the boat.'
'Take care, Harry,' cried Carlo; 'nay, wait: I will come with you--I can't bear you to run the risk alone.'
'I have been through so many perilous scrapes that one more or less makes but little difference. Still, come along, Señorito, we may perhaps make the poor man forget his troubles.'
So the two walked slowly along the shore till they came within a few yards of the weird figure; and Harry, wishing to attract his attention, called out to him and asked him what he did there. Then the figure paused, and gazed at the new-comers as if they were an unfamiliar sight, and began muttering through his long grey beard Spanish words of no meaning.
'Señor Carlo, this poor fellow is a Spaniard; but I see no sign of a musket. Speak to him, and ask him where he sleeps, and why he is here.'
Carlo began very courteously to inquire how the stranger had reached the island, as no boat was in sight; but suddenly he stopped short in his sentence, and clung wildly to Harry.
'Harry, Harry Fenn, look again, that man is--can you not see? It is my father; and yet I hardly knew him. See the ring on his finger?' Harry would certainly not have recognised the Marquis, whom he had seen but little of; but in his astonishment he called out his name.
'The Señor Estevan del Campo! Surely it cannot be! Gracious Heaven!'
'Yes, yes,' said the poor man, 'that is my name. Who called me? Yes, yes, Estevan del Campo!'
'Oh, sir, here is your son,' said Harry; and then Carlo, summoning up his courage, rushed toward his poor father and knelt by his side.
'Father, father, do you not know me? I am Carlo, your son. Forgive me if I ever spoke harshly, father.'
'Carlo my son? No, no, I have no son, no country. Don't let any one come here to find out my hiding-place; I warn them off. The pirates left me here; that was the kindest thing they did for me.
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