The Knight Of The Golden Melice - John Turvill Adams (little red riding hood read aloud txt) 📗
- Author: John Turvill Adams
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The Key, Presently Stood In The Narrow Passage Which Ran Round The Two
Cells Into Which The Central Part Was Divided. Only One Of These Was
Locked. Opening It, He Called, In A Low Tone--"Sassacus."
"Who Wants Sassacus?" Asked The Chief In His Own Language Out Of The
Darkness, For The Stranger Had Come Without A Light.
"I Do Not Understand Your Gibberish," Answered The Other. "Know You
Not Philip's Voice?"
"Thou Hast Come To Place The Feet Of Sassacus On The Forest Leaves.
Quick! O Good White Man! And Free Him," Cried The Impatient Chief.
Philip, Guided By The Sounds, Bent Down, And Feeling For The Shackles
Which Confined The Legs Of The Captive, Soon Unfastened Them, And The
Liberated Sagamore Stretched Out With Delight His Cramped Limbs.
"Sassacus," He Said, "Shall See Again The Pleasant River Of The
Pequots, And He Will Deliver Neebin From The Robbers." Then Following
Joy, The Two Entered, Noiselessly, The Cabin Of The Jailer.
During The Absence Of Joy, A Scene Of A Different Kind Had Been
Passing. The Lady Geraldine, Aroused By The Sounds, Had Left Her
Couch, And Appeared Among The Intruders. She Manifested No Fear At
Sight Of The Indians, (For What Had She To Dread From Those Who Had
Always Shown Her Kindness?) And When Owe Of Them Glided To Her Side,
She Strove Not To Avoid Him.
"Celestina!" Said A Well-Known Voice In Her Ear, "Hasten To Accompany
Me From This Wretched Den, And The Tyranny Of Your Oppressors."
She Started At The First Sound, But Quickly Recovering Herself,
Replied, In A Tone As Low:
"Of What Avail? My Usefulness Here Is Ended. I Will Give Place To
Another, And Heaven Will Employ Me Somewhere Else."
Be It So," Said The Knight; "Yet Fly, For The Sake Of Thy Liberty,
Perhaps Of Thy Life."
"I Fear Not For My Life," She Added; "And As For My Liberty, I Cannot
Long Be Deprived Of It."
"Time Flies! What Madness Is This? I Have Risked My Life To Rescue
Thee, And Now Dost Thou Reject My Service?"
"I Cannot Fly With Thee. Better To Die."
"What Strange Language Do I Hear? What Mean You? Explain Quickly, For
Our Time Is Short."
"I Have No Explanation, Except That I Will Not Go. The Heretics May
Rage, But The Virgin Will Protect Me."
"O, Listen!" Urged The Knight. "You Shall Be Delivered From This
Atrocious Persecution. I Will Take Thee To The French Settlements,
Where Thou Wilt Be Secure, And Mistress Of Thine Own Movements."
"And Thereby Seem To Admit The Truth Of All Wherewith We Are Charged.
That Were In Some Sort A Betrayal Of Our Trust, And What Neither Thou
Nor I May Do."
"Call You The Preservation Of Our Liberty And Lives A Betrayal Of
Trust? Celestina, Grief Hath Crazed Thy Brain."
"Nay, Sir Christopher, I Have Thought Over All These Things, And The
Virgin Inspires My Determination. I Will Do Nought To Confirm A
Suspicion Already Entertained, That We Are Catholics, Which Would Be
Turned Into Certainty, Were We To Take Refuge Among Our French
Neighbors. Thus Should We Make The Task More Difficult For The
Successors Who Must Take Our Places, Since We Have Been Found
Unworthy."
"Then We Will Remain Among The Indians, If That Please Thee Better."
"To Bring Trouble Upon Them For Their Hospitality; To Cause Them To Be
Hunted On Our Account, Like Wild Beasts. Thy Generosity Would Disdain
Safety Purchased By Another's Suffering."
"We Will Go To Some Distant Tribe. Anything Is Better Than To Remain
In The Hands Of These Pitiless Fanatics."
"I Dread Them Not," Answered Sister Celestina, Loftily. "The Talisman
Of The True Faith Will Preserve Me."
"Is, Then, Thy Resolution Fixed Beyond Change? Will No Prayers, No
Entreaties Change Thee?"
"It Is Better Thus: The Poor Sister Celestina Knows How To Suffer And
To Die, But Not How To Desert The Post Entrusted To Her By Her
Superiors."
At This Moment Joy And Sassacus Entered, And The Former, Approaching
The Knight, Informed Him That All Was Ready For A Start.
"I Am Ready," Said The Knight. "Yet, Once Again, Before I Hasten Away,
O, Celestina, Come! I Cannot Bear To Leave Thee With These Men With
Natures Rougher Than The Savage."
"If I Were To Tell Thee All," She Said, Moved By His Importunities,
"Thou Thyself Wouldst Bid Me Remain. Noble Gentleman! Unfortunate And
Slandered Knight, Save Thyself From Thine Enemies. Hasten Away; There
Is Danger In Every Moment's Delay. Whatever May Become Of Me, No Fault
Is Thine."
She Took His Hand In Hers, And As She Pressed It To Her Lips, The
Knight Felt A Tear Trickling Over Its Surface.
"Farewell, Then," He Said, "Since It Must Be So; But I Will Hover Near
To Assist Thee, Shouldst Thou Change Thy Resolution."
He Turned Away, Greeted The Sagamore,And, With His Followers, Began
To Leave The Cabin. As He Passed The Jailer, He Stooped, And, Removing
The Gag From His Mouth, Looked At Him Steadily An Instant, And Then
Placed Two Broad Gold Pieces On The Floor Before Him.
The Lady Pursued With Her Eyes The Retreating Figures Till Swallowed
Up By The Darkness. "I Will Bear My Cross As I May," She Said To
Herself, "For I Deserve It For All My Unhappy Suspicions Of His
Generous Nature. But I Will Do Nothing Which May Give Further Color To
The Malignant Charge Devised By The Justly-Slain Spikeman, And Taken
Up By His Associates. An Escape With Him Were Sure To Do That. The
Tongue Of Calumny Would Wag, And The Finger Of Scorn Be Universally
Pointed At Me, And All Would Cry, 'Aha! We Said It.' Such Triumph
Shall Not Mine Enemies Have Over Me."
Her Meditations Were Interrupted By Bars, Who Now Begged Her To
Release Him From Bondage, Or Call His Wife To Do The Friendly Office
For Him.
"I Desire To Take You To Witness," Said The Lady, "That, Though Flight
Was In My Power, I Have Not Availed Myself Of The Opportunity. Say
That To My Oppressors, To Increase The Guilt Of Their Cruelty."
"I Will Say What You Please," Answered Bars, Peevishly, "An' You Will
Untie Me."
"I Will Do So, If You Promise To Make No Hue And Cry."
"What Should I Want Of Tramping After Indians In The Dark, And Perhaps
Catch An Arrow In My Paunch For My Pains?" Groaned The Jailer; "Though
I Have Some Notions Of My Own About The Indian Part Of The Business."
"Trusting Thy Promise, I Will Relieve Thee From Thy Bonds," Said The
Lady, Cutting The Cords.
"I Made No Promise," Said Bars, As Soon As He Was Set At Liberty,
"Though I Will Behave As If I Had. These Be Brave Indians," He Said To
Himself, Slyly Taking Up The Gold, "And Pay Handsomely For Their Right
To Be Considered Such. An' It Be Thy Pleasure That It Should Be So,"
He Added Aloud, "These Golden Indians Shall Remain Indians Till The
Day Of Judgment, For All Bars--"
Dame Bars, Now, From Her Nook, Made Her Appearance On The Scene.
"O, Sam!" She Exclaimed, "Be They Gone, And Have Not They Scalped
You?"
"You Can Look For Yourself, Wife," Answered Sam, Passing His Fingers
Through His Shock Of Hair, As If To Satisfy Any Doubts Of His Own.
"But What Should They Want With My Scalp, I Wonder."
"I Am Sure I Can't Tell What They Do With Such Things," Said The Dame,
"Unless To Cover Their Own Heads When They Get Bald."
"A Pretty Figure," Grunted Bars, "My Red Crop Would Make On The Top Of
One Of Them Salvages. It Never Will Come To That, Goody. But I Must
Not Stay Here Talking About Scalps, When, Perhaps, The Poor Sentinel
May Have Lost His." And He Started Toward The Door.
"O Do Not Go, Do Not Go, Sam!" Said His Wife, Throwing Her Arms Around
Him; "They May Be Watching For Thee On The Outside."
"Women Be Always Cowards," Said The Jailer; "But Thou Need Not Hug Me
So Tight Now. I Warrant, Having Got What They Wanted, They Are In The
Woods Before This Time."
"Yet Stay A Little Longer," Persisted His Wife. "If The Poor Soldier
Be Murdered, Thou Canst Do Him No Good."
"You Forget, Goody, That I Am A Public Officer, And Must Do My Duty,"
Said Sam, Extricating Himself From Her Grasp; And, Lighting A Lantern,
He Went Out Of Doors.
Bars Directed His Course Straight To The Door Of The Prison, Which He
Found Open.
"It Is As I Expected," He Thought, "There Is No Use In Going In. The
Indian's Long Legs Are Loping Far Away In The Forest, Be Sure.
Cowlson! Friend Cowlson!" He Asked, "Art Thou Dead, Or Only Scalped?"
He Listened For An Answer, But None Was Returned. Proceeding Round The
Little Building, He Soon Found What He Sought--The Soldier, Tied By
The Neck And Heels, In A Most Uncomfortable Posture, And Soaked With
The Rain.
"Humph!" Ejaculated Bars; "These Salvages Be Learning Civilization
Fast. An' I Had Done It Myself, I Could Not Have Tied The Knot With
More Judgment."
The Soldier (To Add To Whose Misfortunes, His Musket Was Gone,
Together With The Powder And Ball Wherewith He Had Been Furnished)
Felt In No Talking Humor, And Sulkily Followed The Jailer Into The
House, Where He Recovered His Speech, And Recounted His Portion Of The
Adventures Of The Night. Bars Pretended To Believe That The Party
Consisted Entirely Of Indians; Of Which, However, Cowlson Could By No
Means Be Persuaded; "For How," Asked He, "Could They Learn Our
Countersign?"
"They Be Cunning Vermin," Said Bars. "But Now, That I Recollect,
Methinks That When They Deceived Me It Sounded A Little Heathenish."
"Then, Why Did You Admit Them?" Demanded Cowlson.
"A Fine Question For You To Ask, Jim Cowlson. An' I Had Not, The
Chance Is They Would Have Bowled You Off With Them, As A Hostage For
The Sachem, And Like As Not Burned Us Up Besides. But The Fact Is, I
Was Half Asleep. An' I Had Been Wide Awake, Perhaps I Would Have
Discovered The Trick. And Who Would Have Guessed That Indians Knew
Anything About Countersigns? I Wonder How They Found It Out."
"I Must Report This Night's Work Forthwith," Said Cowlson, Rising;
"But I Had Almost As Lief Have Lost My Scalp As My Musket."
The Disconsolate Soldier Accordingly Wended On His Way, To Tell The
Best Story He Could To Save Himself From Blame; While Bars, After
Relocking His Empty Prison, And Barring His Door, Snuggled Himself
Alongside His Partner To Busy His Rather Obtuse Brain With Schemes Of
A Like Nature On His Own Behalf.
Chapter XXXII ("This Monument Shall Utter Of The Past It Hath No Tongue; And Yet Demosthenes, Or Roman Tully, Never Stirred The Breasts Of Gaping Citizens With Subtler Speech, Than Shall This Pile Of Stones The Wayfarers. Who Pass This Wa
Anonymous.
While With Rapid Steps Through The Tempestuous Night The Retiring
Party Were Seeking The Forest, One Of Them, The Only One In The Dress
Of The Whites, And Who For That Reason Had Not Ventured Into The Cabin
Of The Jailer, But Had Kept Watch On The Outside, Approaching
Sassacus, Said:
"Let The Feet Of The Chief Be Swift, For Many Warriors Will Be After
Him With The Morning Light."
"My Brother!" Said The Delighted Sagamore, Recognizing The Voice Of
Arundel. "Let Not My Brother Be Afraid. The Forest Loves Sassacus, And
Tells Him All Its Secrets."
"Yet Remain Not Here, My Friend, My Sassacus, Nor Be Troubled About
Neebin. I Will Take Care Of Her, And She Shall Be Restored To Thee."
"Sassacus Trusts His Young White Brother," Said The Indian, "He Hears
Neebin Singing By The River Of The Pequots."
"We Part Here, And Perhaps Forever," Said Arundel. "Farewell,
Sagamore. A Nobler Heart Than Thine Never Beat In Savage Or Christian
Bosom. I Will Never Forget You."
He Wrung The Hand Of The Chief, And, Turning, Was Instantly Lost In
The Darkness.
The Occasion Permitted No Further Words, And, As The Two Separated, It
Was With A Glow Of Pleasure On The Part Of Each. Arundel Reflected
With Satisfaction On The
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