CHAPTER VIII.
The strong beams of the morning sun, pouring
a flood of emerald-tinted lustre, caught from the
leafy arches through which they made their
way, into the stern lights of the Rover's cabin,
aroused him from his troubled slumbers. He
rose up on the instant in perfect possession of all
his senses, drew his hand once or twice across
his fine broad brow, as if to wipe away some
thought that had sat heavy there during the
hours of sleep, and then plunged his whole
head into an ewer of cold water, to cool its
feverish throbbing. This done, and his disordered
dress arranged with somewhat finical
nicety, he hastened to the deck of his galley,
where his presence was hailed with a shout of
enthusiastic rapture by the assembled crew.
The scene was widely altered since the preceding
sunset; for now the pirate squadron lay
calmly floating in a small wood-girt basin, so
exquisitely clear and glassy, that every line
and moulding of the vessels, every small rope
and fluttering pennant, was drawn to the very
life on the dark mirror of the still deep waters;
and it might well have tasked the strongest
vision to define the exact place where the sub
stance and the shadow met, so wonderfully
were they blended.
At first sight it appeared that this small pool
or lakelet, which was so nearly circular that it
might have been fancied artificial, and in no
direction was it a quarter of a mile across, although
so marvellously deep that the deepest
sealine had never yet found bottom, though
run out to five hundred fathoms, was altogether
landlocked, and had no outlet for its brimming
waters; for it was hedged around on every
side but one, by the dense brakes and ever-living
umbrage of the tropical forest, and there the
shore sloped gently upward in a rich turfy
lawn of the tenderest verdure. On a nearer
inspection, however, it was not difficult to detect
the spot, by the opening in the tree-tops,
where rushed from that secluded spring the
powerful and abundant stream, which boiled
up from the bowels of the earth, here at its very
birth a river; although it made so short a turn
immediately on quitting the parent basin, that
no part of its course was visible. Immediately
on the water's edge, where the smooth lawn
sloped upward, forming a gentle hillock, a long
green mound of short close greensward, cut
into many an angular zigzag, many a crescent,
and wedged ravelin, and abutting at either extremity
on a small half-moon bastion of wrought
stone, presented a terrible array of batteries
mounted with above a hundred black-mouthed
cannon, grinning defiance to any bold invader
who should penetrate so deeply into the Rover's
haunts as to reach this his inmost hold,
many a mile aloof from the blue billows of the
Mexican Gulf. From either bastion there was
drawn a line of powerful stoccades facing an
eastern rampart with many salient angles, running
entirely round the hillock between its
grassy esplanade and the deep masses of the
forest which surrounded it; and a broad ditch
cut with vast labor through the swampy soil,
and lined with square hewn timber completely
isolated the position, which had been chosen
with so much skill, and fortified so masterly by
the directions of the great English Rover. The
space within the lines, which might have
formed an area of a mile's circuit, contained
many long wooden buildings, erected at right
angles to each other, with wide verandahs and
long porticoes, all clustered round the base of
the hill, presenting a picturesque and gay appearance;
for they were painted tastefully
enough with white and green in broad contrasting
stripes, like some of the modern Italian
villas, and all the verandahs were furnished
with curtained awnings of the most sumptuous
and magnificent materials, velvets and rich
brocades, and gold and silver tissues, more like
the fanciful pavilions of some fairy palace, than
the adornments of a piratical stronghold.
Around the crest of the little hill, commanding
the whole area, and forming evidently the
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citadel of the position, a triple line of earthen
ramparts, with deep dry ditches, crowned with
chevaux de frise, and mounted with long culverins,
guarded the scarped ascent, and encircled
a large keep or block-house, which occupied
the summit of the knoll—the Rover's
palace-castle.
Such was the scene which lay brightly illuminated
by the low morning sunbeams, but
checkered here and there with cool blue shadows,
cast by the forest trees and grotesque
buildings over the emerald lawn, under the eyes
of Ringwood.
But though he was no mean judge, nor careless
observer of the wild charms of nature, he
had gazed too often on that strange and lovely
prospect, to give at this time more than a passing
glance to its attractions; besides, the moment
had its duties. There was of course no
anchorage in that unfathomed gulf, whereon
the low and rakish picaroons floated so calmly;
they were moored, therefore, in shore, for
the banks were all abrupt and molden, by
hooks and grapnels; Ringwood's felucca, as the
largest, lying the furthest from the batteries, and
covering the outlet of the river with her broadside.
The other barks were anchored to the
shore at various points, so as to concentrate
their fire on the same spot, much further up the
basin and under the very guns of the fort, the
smallest of the squadron lying directly in front
of the water-gate, and covered by the eastern
bastion.
The crews, it would appear, of all the rest,
had already landed; for with the exception of
a single sentinel on the forecastle of each, not
a soul was to be seen on board; while, dotting
everywhere the verdant area of the fort, some
lounging idly in the cool shadows of the curtained
porticoes, some walking to and fro in
little groups and parties, some dallying with
gaily dressed, light-mannered girls, two or
three hundred of the buccaneers were visible;
while from within the dwellings, loud bursts of
revelry, mingled with the sweet laughter and
half sportive shrieks of women, and now and
then a gay licentious song, or the tinkling of a
lute, betokened the presence of many more inhabitants
than met the gazer's eye.
“Ha! Anson,” exclaimed Ringwood, addressing
one of his subordinate officers with a
smile, “I have played something overmuch
the sluggard; and these good fellows are, I
warrant me, fretting to be ashore among the
bona robas yonder. So to it, sir, at once; hoist
all the boats out presently, except my private
pinnace, and have the people landed. Keep
the barge to the last; I will ashore in it myself.”
A louder acclamation than that even which
had greeted the appearance of the rover on his
deck, now burst forth from the merry crew, as
they rushed with tumultuous hurry to their
quarters, eagerly urging their light duty, and
hoisting out the boats with many a jovial cheer
and hasty halloa! For a few minutes the
great buccaneer stood looking on in silence, till
the last boat had pushed off with its noisy
freight, leaving the barge's crew alone, waiting
for their superiors, who were grouped on the
forecastle; and the small private pinnace swinging
beneath the stern-lights of the cabin. Then
motioning his officers to wait for his return, he
descending the companion-stair, and once more
entered his own cabin.
“Pluto!” he cried, “Ho! Pluto!” as he
entered; and as the negro sentinel thrust in his
turbaned head, at the half-opened door—“jump
up on deck, and clear away my pinnace; bring
it round to the starboard gangway, and after
we shall have left the ship—I and the gentlemen—
do thou and Charon lead down the lady there,
and the black lass, and row them to the sally-port,
entering the covered way: I will be there
to meet ye; and hark, sirrah, in your ear—do
thou, or thy swart comrade, but once look lustfully
upon their beauties, and thou shalt wish
thyself dead fifty times, ere death shall end thy
tortures. See to it, and begone;” then, as the
negroes hurried forth to execute his orders,
“Teresa!” he called aloud—“come forth,
Teresa!” There was a pause of a few minutes,
interrupted only by a slight rustling
sound as if of female garments, from the state-room;
but no one answered anything; nor
did she, when he called, come forth. “What,
ho!” he cried again: “come forth, come forth,
Teresa! or, by the Lord that lives, you shall
repent it. Best not provoke me, beauty.”
As he spoke the door opened, and the sweet
girl came forth, somewhat refreshed, indeed,
by sleep, but with her clear and luminous skin
still pale as alabaster; so that her large dark
eye, contrasted with the singular whiteness of
her face, showed almost supernaturally full and
lustrous. Her hair had been arranged in neat,
broad plaits, wound simply round the classic
contour of her head; and over her high brow
a single heavy curl falling down with a massive
sweep behind each delicate ear; but her
neck, and the first gentle swell of her young
bosom, were all bare, and her round dimpled
arms uncovered to the shoulders; yet, even in
her disarray, there was a true dignity in every
motion, so rigid and severe a modesty in the
chaste, sorrowful eye, so perfect an air of unconsciousness
of aught unseemly—although,
indeed, she was most conscious—that the most
hardened debauchee could no more have found
matter for voluptuous thoughts there, than in
the cold, denuded limbs of marble saint or angel.
“I come,” she answered, her words flowing
out in a calm, passionless, and even strain, as
though her very fears were dead. “I come,
obedient to your call, so to eschew worse outrage.
I come; what would you?”
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“Sweet lady,” replied Ringwood, with a
half-meaning courtesy of accent, “sweet, innocent
lady, that you prepare you straightway to
take boat, in charge of my staunch guardsmen,
and so to my poor dwelling; there I will see
you presently. Meantime, in yonder state-room
are store of velvet mantles; take one of
them, I pray you, and wrap you closely in its
folds; and 'twere no evil done, if you should
cast a silk kerchief, in lieu of veil, over those
lovely lineaments. I would not give your
charms to the brute gaze of the rude sailors.”
“Wherefore, kind sir, and most considerate,”
she said, a slight flush rising to her pallid
cheek, “or to what purpose would you veil,
to-day, me, whom, but two days ago, you did
display in so unwomanly disarray to the same
eyes from which you now would hide me?
perchance from motives not pure and disinterested?”
“Simply,” returned the rover, in a cold, resolute
voice, “simply for that it is my will! and
have a care—have thou a care, Teresa, provoke
me not too far—I say provoke me
not! It were as easy, every whit, to me, to
strip your charms to the broad day, and so parade
you to the gaping wonder of those brute
mariners, as to say, `veil your beauties!' By
God!” he added, lashing himself into fury as
he proceeded, “by God! it were as easy to
cast you forth a booty to the untamed licentiousness
of those who know no mercy—as
thus—”
“As thus from selfish passion,” she interrupted
him, “thus to reserve me for the more
foul dishonor of your own private pleasures!”
“Of my own private pleasures!” he repeated,
mimicking the very tones of her voice—“of
my own private pleasures! right daintily worded
that, dear lady, and very true withal. My own
most private pleasures, of which, believe me,
sweet one, you soon shall be the most choice
minister, and the well-pleased partaker—and
now to punish you for this, your insolence,
and teach you wisdom for the future!”
And with the words, he made one quick step
forward, and throwing both his arms round her
fair form, one encircling her lovely shoulders
and swan-like neck, the other twining with
irresistible pressure her slight rounded waist, he
clasped her to him in a close embrace, kissing
her lips, and sucking her sweet breath, till she
had well nigh fainted in his arms. She did
not shriek, nor struggle—no more could she
have struggled within the overpowering grasp
of that gigantic frame, than could the linnet
strive against the talons of the ger-falcon. She
did not shriek; for there was none to hear;
much less to aid, or rescue her. But yet she
yielded not one jot—much less responded to
his passionate caress—but stood within his
circling arms, cold, rigid, stern, impassive as a
wrought shape of bronze or marble—not a
pulse in her body bounded beyond its usual
motion; not a quicker throb of her bosom answered
to the hot beatings of his heart—not a
pant was on her breath, not a cloud on her
clear steady eye, not a dew drop on her
honeyed lip—but when he again released her
from his arms, a faint brief color stole over her
cheeks and brow, and, when it receded, left her
even paler than before—and a quick shudder
shook her limbs for a moment.
“Thus deal I with the stuhborn,” said Ringwood,
as he let her go, “thus deal I with the
insolent and stubborn! see, if you like it not,
that you offend not in like sort again! and now,
do as I bid you, and make ready!”
As he spoke, he turned on his heel, and
leaving the cabin, rejoined his subordinates on
deck, and shortly after going down into the
barge threw himself at full length on the cushions
in the stern sheets, and was pulled to shore
as rapidly as twenty vigorous seamen could
ply their oars in that calm basin. While she,
deserted by the calm resolution which had
borne her up while in the presence of her persecutor,
and which a secret instinct rightly
taught her to be the only weapon with which
she could successfully oppose his forceful violence,
burst instantly into a wild agony of tears
and sobbing, and falling to the ground, continued
in a series of fainting fits and swoons,
until the terrified Cassandra, who had been
twice already summoned by the negroes, brought
her back to her senses, by her half frantic entreaties,
that she would arise and obey the orders
of the pirate, if she would save her life or
honor. Then she aroused herself at once, as
soon as she became conscious of her handpmaid's meaning; and casting one of the velvet
cloaks around her, by a strong effort gulped
down the whole of her hysterical passion,
wiped away the traces of her tears, and followed
the tall negro to the pinnace wherein his
fellow was already seated at the oar.
No princess of old Spain could have been
treated with more ample courtesy, more deep
respect, by the most stately cavalier of her
proud court, than was Teresa by the two
pirate blacks. Not a glance of their bright
eyes rested upon her features for a moment—
not a word was spoken, but such as were of
absolute necessity; and, when she had taken
her seat in the stern of the little boat with the
black girl crouching as usual at her feet, the
men took to their oars, and pulled as fast as
they were able, in perfect silence, towards the
sally-port, at the base of the western bastion,
upon the battlements of which the stately
figure of the great buccaneer was already visible,
as he awaited the arrival of his captive.
As the boat neared the port, however, he descended
from his lofty stand; and as the keel
grated upon the pebbly marge, the portcullis
rose, the gate flew open, and displayed him
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standing within the low browed arch—a third
negro, of similar dimensions to those who
were assisting the girls from the boat, holding
a flambean at his side.
They had not entered one second's space,
before the iron grating was again lowered, and
the heavy gate swung back, leaving the boatmen
on the outer side, and Teresa found herself
in a low, narrow-vaulted passage, stretching
away into interminable darkness, though
continually ascending by flights of broad flat
steps, as if towards the daylight; but little being
rendered visible by the smoky torch of the
negro, who preceded them in silence, except
the key-stone of the rude arch overhead, and
the mildewed walls on the right hand and left.
“Take my arm, girl,” exclaimed Ringwood,
“and lean on it! mind what I say to you, and
forget not the lesson I was compelled to teach
you, even now; which, by the heaven above
`us! shall be as nothing to that which you
shall learn, if you be any more refractory!”
Pale as the winter's snow, and scarce less
cold, she took his proffered arm, in silence but
untrembling; and she did lean on him, for in
good truth she was scarce able to support
herself even when she entered; and the dank
mildew vapors of that cold vault, wherein the
drops of moisture were constantly detaching
themselves from the roof and plashing on the
muddy earth, had yet more overpowered her,
so that full surely she had lacked the strength
to drag her limbs along, has she not been supported
by the nervous arm of Ringwood, to
which she clung with a convulsive gripe of
which she was indeed scarce conscious.
After walking for some distance through this
deep covered way, having ascended not less
than a hundred steps at different times, and in
various places—they reached a huge oak door,
clenched with large nails, which gave them
access to a tall winding staircase, carried up
through a shaft in the earth, similar to a well,
each step being a beam of solid timbers, hewn
rudely with the axe, and all unconscious of
the adze or plane of the neat-handed joiner.
After ascending this rugged stairway, they
reached a little vestibule, above the level of
the ground, the floor and walls of which were
covered with neat Indian mattings, lighted by
a long shot-hole or crenelle, through which a
golden sunbeam, full of a million dancing
motes, streamed in, filling the little place with
glorious light and gaiety, which seemed more
lovely to those who viewed it in close contrast
to the swart darkness of the subterranean galleries
which they had but just quitted. From
this small vestibule a second staircase, wrought
in the thickness of the wall, quickly conducted.
Ringwood and his fair captive—close to whom
crept, more terrified a thousand times than her
pale mistress, the black slave girl Cassandra—
to a well-lighted airy hall, overlooking—as it
was easy to perceive—from the upper story of
the Rover's keep, the whole green end of the
pirate fortress, with the gay dwellings and the
glassy bay, and the beautiful vessels moored
in their several berths, all laughing out in the
glad golden sunlight, which poured down
everywhere over the wide spread tropical
forests, and over that small inland lakelet, from
the soft smiling heavens.
The hall in which they stood, lighted by
four tall lattices, and looking down upon that
romantic view, was itself worthy of attention
from its magnificent and tasteful decorations.
The ceiling of dark Indian wood, from which
swung a vast golden lamp that once had decked
some sacred edifice, was polished till it
shone like a mirror; the walls, covered with
hangings of green velvet, were all adorned with
groups of glittering weapons, disposed in rare
and picturesque patterns of every singular variety
of forth and purpose. Shirts of ringmail,
and corslets of bright plate, and casques
embossed with gold circular shields of oriental
fashion. Damascus cimeters, and Spanish
blades, and rare Italian daggers, all glittering
with gems and flashing to the morning sun.
The floor was carpeted with velvet, and a divan
of the same rich material, corded and laced
with gold, ran round the walls of the apartment;
while on a massive table was spread a
sumptuous collation, with many flagons of rich
wine, and tall Venetian glasses, among rich
meats and vases full of the dewy flowers of that
rare southern clime. There were no tenants
to this splendid hall, but from a door that
faced the staircase, which had been partially
left open, there came the mingled sounds of
more than one sweet low-toned female voice;
and once or twice a long soft thrilling laugh,
that seemed to speak a heart at ease and happy.
These sounds were followed, just as the
Rover led his prisoner into that noble hall, by
a light air touched exquisitely on a lute, and
accompanied by a rich clear melodious voice of
a girl singing. Her execution was admirable—
her tones thrilled to the very heart like liquid
fire—but, alas! the song was so passionately,
painfully voluptuous, that it could have flowed
from no modest lips, and should have been listened
to by no modest ears. Pierced to the
soul, Teresa faltered, and stood still—but
Ringwood with a strong pressure of her arm,
and a stern whisper of his deep penetrating
voice, saying, “Beware! I say, beware,
Teresa,” half led, half bore her onward to the
door whence came those hateful sounds. He
threw it open, and the sight she saw, stuck
that unhappy girl,—more than the most dreadful
of the dread scenes she had already witnessed—
with agony and terror and despair.
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Herbert, Henry William, 1807-1858 [1847], Tales of the Spanish seas (Burgess, Stringer & Co., New York) [word count] [eaf148].
