CHAPTER VII.
B
BUT from that moment Lizzie had not a moment’s peace. She dreaded everything and everybody. Each casual visitor she believed to be a spy, and the appearance of a friend made her think that the hour of discovery had come. Rosa made her a thousand promises of fidelity, but the yellow girl, though devoted to her mistress’s interests, was, after all, very much like other women, and found it a hard task to hold her tongue. The whole time she was employed in exercising the baby in the plantation,was a season of torture to Lizzie, who pictured her confiding the whole story to her most intimate friend, under a promise of inviolable secrecy. Meanwhile Henri de Courcelles, though confined to one room during the day time, and only venturing out after dark by means of the window, and with a disguise on, was passing a fairly pleasant time. The two women fed him royally, and waited on him like servants, and he held several conferences with Lizzie as to the possibility of his getting down to the Fort by night, and embarking as a seaman on board one of the Spanish crafts that lay in the bay of San Diego. They would have carried this plan, of which they had arranged all the minutiæ together, into effect at once, had it not been deemed advisable that De Courcelles should lieperduuntil it might be supposed by the authorities that their prisoner had perished beyond all doubt in the Alligator Swamp. As soon as the guard of mounted police who watched for him outside the swamp was withdrawn, Lizzie and De Courcelles decided that his first attempt at an escape from the island should be made. He had been concealed in the bungalow for two days when Mr Courtney walked in one morning and took a seat beside Lizzie. The planter looked worn and anxious, and as he removed his hat, and passed his handkerchief across his brow, he seemed to have grown older of late, notwithstanding the brilliant marriage that his daughter had made. The words with which he opened the conversation, had reference to Maraquita.
‘Sir Russell and Lady Johnstone havecome to stay with us at the White House, Lizzie.’
‘Indeed, sir,’ she replied. ‘I suppose Quita is nervous of staying at Government House, after what happened there last week. And I don’t wonder at it, poor girl! I should be glad to hear that the Governor had decided to take her to England.’
‘So should we, my dear, and they will go before long—there is no doubt of that—only, it would hardly do for the Governor to run away whilst the island is in this state of ferment. But he judged rightly in thinking that our dear Maraquita would feel safer and happier with her parents, and in her old home. For she has received a terrible shock, Lizzie, and it is telling on her visibly. She seems ten years older to me.’
‘Poor Quita, she cannot fail to feel it,’ replied Lizzie, looking at the matter in a totally different light from that in which Mr Courtney regarded it.
‘Yes, and I wish I could think that there was no further reason for her fears. Lizzie, I have come here this morning for one purpose only,—to persuade you to return with me to the White House.’
Lizzie started, and coloured.
‘Oh, Mr Courtney, I cannot. I don’t know why you want me there, but unless it is in my capacity as medical adviser, I must refuse. You forget that Mrs Courtney ordered me never to show my face there again.’
‘I can allow no feminine quarrels to interfere with your safety, Lizzie; and it is to securethatthat I beg of you to take up your residence at myhouse until these mutinous ideas have been knocked out of the coolies’ heads. I do not feel that you are safe,—that we are, any of us, safe. I begin to distrust even my own hands, for whom I have done all in my power.’
‘Mr Courtney, I appreciate your kindness, but there are too many reasons why I cannot accept it.’
‘Name them, my dear.’
‘I have named one already, sir. Another is my infant charge. Do you suppose I would desert her?’
‘Bring her with you. There is room in the White House for us all.’
‘No, Mr Courtney,’ she answered proudly, ‘it isimpossible. I will not take the child under the roof of the very woman who has falsely accused me of being its mother.’
‘But I am sure, Lizzie, that neither my wife nor Maraquita really believe that story.’
‘And I am sure of it too, sir; but that only places their cruelty to me in a more heinous light. Forgive me for saying it, Mr Courtney, before you, who have always been so good to me and my poor father, but I will never again place myself voluntarily in the society of either Mrs Courtney or Maraquita, until they have publicly acknowledged that they have done me a foul wrong.’
‘They have been very hard on you,’ sighed the planter; ‘but their conduct cannot blind me to my duty. I cannot consent to your remaining here, Lizzie. The negroes may rise at any moment, and this bungalow is in the very midst of their quarters. I have received secret information concerningthem, that has seriously alarmed me. The general disaffection has spread much further than I dreamt of, and even the hands on Beauregard are believed to be ripe for rebellion. Were they to take it into their heads to rise, what would you do?’
Lizzie laughed at the idea.
‘In that case, sir—did I believe it possible (which I can hardly do) that your coolies could so utterly forget all they owe to you—I should be much saferherethan in the White House. Why should they harbour any resentment againstme? They loved my dear father, and I believe they love me for his sake, andIhave nothing to do with their fancied causes for complaint. If they do rise, which God forbid, it will be the White House against which they will make a raid.’
‘Ah, my dear child, long as you have lived amongst them, you do not know the negro nature as I do. Once roused, he becomes a devil, and has no power of distinguishing between friends and foes. This bungalow will be the first piece of my property which they will have the opportunity of destroying, and I feel sure they will not spare it, nor perhaps evenyou. Lizzie, I beg, I implore of you to accept my offer of protection, and transport yourself, and all you value, to the White House.’
But Lizzie was firm. She quailed a little before the possible picture Mr Courtney had conjured up,—before the remembrance too of certain words of Captain Norris, in which he had expressed his own fears for her safety; but they had no power to alter herdetermination. There was her poor prisoner in the next room to them. Guilty as he had proved himself to be, she had promised him her protection, and she would stand by him to the last, even if they were doomed to perish together. So she only shook her head, and smiled, and continued stitching at her work.
‘Your obstinacy is incredible to me,’ said Mr Courtney, half angrily, ‘and you put me in a very unpleasant position. I promised your father (as far as I could) to supply his place to you. I look on you as second only to my own child, yet you refuse to accept from me a father’s protection, or to yield me the obedience of a daughter.’
‘I am sorry to appear ungrateful to you, Mr Courtney, but I have my own reasons for remaining in my own home,and your arguments have no power to shake them. Pray don’t be under any further apprehension for me—I have none for myself; and if your workersaredisposed to mutiny, it is all the more reason that I should remain amongst them, and try to bring them to a better frame of mind.’
‘Ah, I have heard of your attempts in that direction already, Lizzie, and that the coolies call you the angel of Beauregard! You are a good girl, my dear, and may God reward you for all you have done. I am only sorry that unfortuitous circumstances should have laid this burden of secrecy upon you. But cheer up; the day will come, perhaps, when it will be removed as unexpectedly as it appeared. And no one shall rejoice more when that day comes than I shall, Lizzie.’
She sighed, but she answered nothing. She knew that if the day he spoke of ever dawned, it would be to bow her benefactor’s head with shame.
‘And so all my entreaties are in vain?’ said Mr Courtney, as he rose to go.
‘Yes, sir; I shall remain here; and honestly, I do not believe you have any cause for fear.’
Yet she pondered over what he had told her all that day, not from any dread of her own safety, but endeavouring to think of some plan for getting Henri de Courcelles away before there was any possibility of his detection. For she felt that if the coolies on Beauregarddidrise, and proceed to incendiarism or slaughter, Henri de Courcelles, who had been their tyrannical master in the days gone by, and their inciter to rebellion in the present, would be the first victim oftheir lawless passions. Her mind was still running on the same subject when the evening shadows closed, and Hugh Norris unexpectedly walked into the room.
Her first feeling at seeing him was one of such unmitigated pleasure, that she could not help betraying it.
‘Oh, Hugh—I mean, Captain Norris,’ she exclaimed, ‘are you really back again? I am so glad—I didn’t think—I was afraid that—’ and here she stopped, blushing for her incoherency.
‘Are youreallyglad?’ he said, taking her hand, and warmly pressing it, whilst his open countenance revealed his emotion. ‘Have you felt my absence, Lizzie? Have our two months of separation stretched themselves out to their full term?’
‘Indeed they have,’ she answered ingenuously.‘I have been counting the days till you should return. For we have passed through a terrible time since you left us. But perhaps you have already heard of it.’
‘Indeed I have heard of it, Lizzie,’ he said gravely, ‘and I thank God that it was no worse. What should I have done had you been involved in this horrible catastrophe? But I am here, and you are safe, and I will not leave San Diego again until I take you with me. Was I not right in my forebodings?’
‘Partially so; but you see that no one has harmed me yet. What a quick passage you have made this time, Captain Norris.’
‘Very quick; but you may imagine that I wasted no more time in England than I could help, Lizzie. I was notout of sight of San Diego before I was longing to get back again, and, thanks to favourable winds, and an obliging supercargo, I have made the double passage in as short a time as is possible. But I found time to accomplish my heart’s desire, all the same.’
‘What was that?’ she demanded curiously.
‘Do you remember the packet of letters you threw me to read when we last said good-bye, and you had to run off to attend to some woolly infant or other?’
‘Yes, yes, I remember. It was Mammy Chloe’s baby,’ she answered, laughing.
‘The first letter I opened surprised me more than anything has ever done in my life before. It was from your late father to Mr Courtney, and hesigned himself “Herbert Ruthin,” and wrote in familiar terms of his father and mother, Sir William and Lady Ruthin, and of their place in Scotland—Aberdare.’
‘Well, well! of course; it was his own home,’ interrupted Lizzie impatiently. ‘Why should it have so greatly surprised you?’
‘Because, Lizzie, my mother (whose maiden name was Mary Herbert) is a second or third cousin of Lady Ruthin, and when her ladyship came to Maidstone, which is close to mother’s home, a few years ago, she called on us, and took dinner at the cottage.’
‘Oh, Hugh, how very,verystrange!’ cried Lizzie, forgetting etiquette in her breathless surprise.
‘Yes, it is only another proof of how small the world is, and how we are allbut one large family. I remembered Lady Ruthin’s visit to my mother distinctly, and also that I had heard she had had great trouble about her second son Herbert, but I fancied he was dead. When I learnt the truth from those letters, I determined to see Sir William and Lady Ruthin on my return to England, and I did so.’
‘Youdid!’ echoed Lizzie; ‘and, oh! what did they say?’
‘I was only at Aberdare two hours, dearest,’ replied Captain Norris, growing bolder as he gained his advantage, ‘but it was long enough to serve my purpose. I told them everything, Lizzie,—what a good life your dear father had lived here, expiating his youthful error by a course of self-abnegation, and how like a martyr he had died, stricken down by the exhaustion consequent on his labours forothers. And I soon found that if their pride and mortification have prevented their speaking of their lost son for so many years past, it has not been because the love of him has faded from their hearts. They concluded he was dead long ago, but as I spoke of him, they were both melted into tears, and reproached themselves bitterly for not having employed stronger measures to ascertain his fate.’
‘My poor darling father!’ exclaimed Lizzie, weeping; ‘how I wish he could have had the comfort of knowing that his parents felt for him.’
‘Doubtless he knows it now, dear. But my story is not done yet, Lizzie. When I had told Sir William and Lady Ruthin all I knew about your father, I spoke ofyou, and their excitement became painful to witness. They are longing to see you, my dear, and makeup to you for all you have suffered on account of your poor father’s exile. I am the bearer of a letter from them begging you at once to return to England and place yourself under their protection. I shall see you in your proper position at last, Lizzie, and reaping the reward you so richly deserve. I cannot tell you how proud and happy I feel to have been made the instrument of this change in your destinies.’
Lizzie looked up at him gratefully.
‘It was so good of you to think of it,’ she murmured; ‘but I can hardly believe it yet. My dear father’s parents! They will seem like part of himself to me, and especially if they cherish his memory. And I shall owe it all to you. What can I do for you in return, Hugh?’
‘Only one thing, dear. Let me takeyou back to England, and present you to your grandparents asmy wife.’
‘Did you—did you—say anything to them about it?’ she asked timidly.
‘Well, I gave them a hint on the subject,’ he answered, laughing; ‘as far, that is to say, asIam concerned—I could not answer foryou, you know, because you have not yet answered for yourself.’
‘And how did they take it?’
‘They were good enough to say that they would make no objection whatever to me as your husband, provided I gave up the sea and kept you on dry land. And Sir William promised, moreover, in that case, to help me to obtain suitable employment. And so you see, my dear, the conclusion of the matter rests with you. What is your answer?’
She saw the deep blue honest eyes gazing fondly into her own, and had just placed her hand in his preparatory to saying ‘Yes,’ when a loud unmistakable cough sounded from the inner room.
‘What is that?’ exclaimed Hugh Norris, starting to his feet, his senses always acutely alive to possible danger. ‘There is some one in your father’s bedroom. Stand aside, Lizzie, and let me see who it is.’
He seized his stick—his only weapon—as he spoke, and was about to try the locked door. But she interposed herself between him and it.
‘You cannot enter that room, Captain Norris. It is fastened.’
‘Then some one—a mutineer, perhaps—must have got in by the window. I am certain my ears did not deceiveme. The sound we heard proceeded from that room, and I must satisfy myself on the subject.’
He was about to pass her, when she put out her hand to prevent him, and he observed how very pale and strained her face (but a few moments ago so smiling) had suddenly become.
‘Captain Norris, I hold this room sacred to myself, and neither you, nor any man, shall cross the threshold.’
He looked full at her then in his amazement, and the truth seemed to flash suddenly upon him.
‘You have been deceiving me!’ he exclaimed; ‘you have some one concealed there whom you are ashamed to tell me of! Who is it?’ he continued, in a low voice, which threatened danger,—‘that blackguard De Courcelles, who would have slaughtered every Europeanin the Fort, if he had had his way, and whom I hear has been in hiding ever since?’
Lizzie was silent. Twice her mouth opened to utter a lie in the defence of her former lover, and twice it died unuttered on her lips. Hugh Norris knew her too well to misinterpret her want of courage. He threw her one look of deep reproach, and, turning away, sat down by the table, and buried his face in his hands. Lizzie could not withstand the action. She crept after him, and laid her hand timidly upon his shoulder.
‘Hugh,’ she whispered, ‘Hugh—’
But he jerked the kindly touch away, almost roughly.
‘Don’t come near me,’ he muttered, ‘Don’t speak to me. You are false, and you have destroyed all my faith in womankind.’
‘No, no, Hugh! you shall not say that of me. Listen, and I will tell you everything. I should have told it you in any case, for I sorely need your counsel and advice, only we have had no time as yet to speak of any one but ourselves. But you are good, and noble, and true, and if you do not approve of my action, you will at least not betray it. I will not deceive you, and I think, when you know all, you will acknowledge you would have done the same. Henri de Courcelles is in that room, a fugitive hiding from the law! No, don’t look at me like that! I call Heaven to witness he is not there as my lover, but that I would have extended the same succour to any fellow-creature who threw himself upon my mercy. Hugh! I heard that he had escaped from the Fort prison, and eluded the pursuit of the police by taking refugein the Alligator Swamp. Could I have left him there to perish by a miserable death, without making one effort to save him?’
Captain Norris looked up at her in amazement.
‘But what couldyoudo?’ he inquired. ‘Not a man in San Diego would venture to penetrate the horrors of the swamp, unless he wished to die.’
‘Yet awomandid,’ she whispered.
‘Lizzie, you do not mean to tell me that you went yourself?—that you risked the awful dangers of the miasma and the alligators, for the sake of this man, and that you live to tell the tale?’
‘The danger was not so great for me as for another, Hugh, because I knew the proper preventatives to carry with me. Anyway, I went, and I was successful. I found this unhappy and misguided mannearly unconscious from the effects of the poisonous air he was inhaling, and I brought him safely out of it, and have hid him here for the last two days, until I could devise some plan to get him away from San Diego. Will you help me, Hugh? I know it is a great thing to ask at your hands; and I have not another friend whom I would trust with the secret; but I shall not rest till I know he is secure from suffering a malefactor’s death upon the gallows.’
‘He deserves it, Lizzie, if any one ever did.’
‘I know it! but if we all received our deserts in this world, how badly we should fare! Hugh, you will believe me when I tell you that such love as I once entertained for Henri de Courcelles is all past, and for ever. I see his character in its true light at last,—as vindictiveand revengeful and untrue! But that does not alter the case that once I thought him good enough to be my husband, and mine is a heart that cannot entirely forget!’
‘What do you want me to do for him, Lizzie?’
‘To get him down to the docks in disguise, and ship him on board one of the vessels there that are bound for Spain or America. It would be cruel to send him anywhere else. And if that should be impossible to do all at once, couldn’t you let him stay on theTrevelyantill you are able to send him away?’ continued Lizzie wistfully.
‘You ask me to do a very wrong and dangerous thing, my dear,—to harbour a rebel against the British Government, and cheat the gallows of its just due.’
‘No, Hugh—to succour a wretchedfellow-creature, who was half driven to madness by a woman’s treachery, before he dreamt of committing such a crime. I cannot tell you all his story, but if you knew it, you would pity him, as I do.’
‘Nothing of the sort. I despise the fool for having thrown away such a heart as he had found in yours! Why, Lizzie! you are a heroine, and the noblest woman I ever met! Well, and suppose I become a traitor to my Queen and country at your command, and help this rascally lover of yours to escape the ends of justice, what reward am I to expect for the risk I shall run?’
‘What reward do you want?’ she answered, smiling at him through her tears. ‘You shall name it, Hugh, for I see you are going to do this great and generous thing for my sake, and holdout a helping hand to your unfortunate rival.’
‘Promise to become my wife, Lizzie! Nothing short of that will quite satisfy me of the purity of your benevolence for De Courcelles—because I know your nobility of character too well to think you would ever bestow your hand on one man whilst there was a remnant of love left in your heart for another.’
‘You only do me justice there, Hugh; for if I am nottrueI am nothing. Yes, I will be your wife, whenever you choose to ask me, and (God helping me) a good and faithful one.’
‘And a loving one into the bargain?’ he returned interrogatively. ‘I will not accept your hand without your heart, Lizzie.’
‘Can any wife be good and faithful if she is not loving, Hugh? Butdo not be afraid!I love you.Is that enough?’
‘Then come to my arms!’ he exclaimed, as he rose and held them out to her. She was hesitating just a little, not entirely from coyness, but because it is so sweet to dally with our happiness—when a low murmuring sound, like the first menacing tones of thunder, or the moaning of a sleuthhound when it finds the trail, which evidently proceeded from the negroes’ quarters, made them start asunder, and change colour.
‘What was that?’ demanded Lizzie, under her breath, as Hugh Norris threw his arm round her for protection.
‘It is the groaning of a crowd,’ he answered. ‘It is the first note of mutiny. Lizzie, there is something wrong! For God’s sake, let me take you away from this.’
But she struggled to free herself.
‘If they are rising, Hugh, let me go to them! No one understands them as I do! Let me speak, and they will obey me! I can do with them as I like.’
But before he had time to put into words his entreaty that she would resign herself to his protection, a piercing shriek seemed to rend the evening air, and the next minute Rosa, the yellow girl, rushed into the room, with Maraquita’s infant in her arms.
‘Oh, Missy Liz,’ she cried, ‘what have they done to my baby? Dis crowd of niggers is all cryin’ out for dere rights, and down with de planters, and I coming along, and dey pulled de poor baby from my arms, and hit it on de head with a stone. Oh, Missy Liz, I couldn’t help it! I screamed to dem to leave my poor baby alone! But deycall out ’tis Missy Quita’s chile and Massa Courcelles’, and den dey strike it again. And the baby’s berry sick, Missy Liz—berry sick, indeed,’ continued Rosa, weeping, and rocking the bundle in her arms.
‘Give it to me,’ said Lizzie calmly, though her face was deathly white, but not so white as that of Maraquita’s infant, which lay calm and peaceful in the sleep of death, with a discoloured bruise upon its little forehead, where the cruel stone had struck it.
‘She isdead!’ said Lizzie solemnly, as she placed the body on the table. She did not shed a tear as she did so, but Hugh Norris, looking up at her, marked the deep lines which suppressed emotion had drawn upon her forehead, and thought he had never seen her look so stern before.
‘My poor little Mary,’ she said, in a low voice, as she gazed upon the infant’s dead form. ‘This is the first-fruits of the Beauregard rebellion, Hugh! They have risen at last, and they will not stop here! What will become of them all at the White House?’
‘We must give the alarm at once,’ said Captain Norris. ‘They may not be prepared for this outbreak. But Lizzie, I will not go and leave you here! If you wish your friends to be put on their guard, you must come with me.’
‘It is too late,’ she answered: ‘they are already upon us! We should only walk into their midst. Listen to that—’
She held up her finger, and Captain Norris could distinctly hear the yelling of a mob of coolies advancing on theplantation, and see the flaming torches which they carried in their hands, whilst in another moment two or three random shots proved that they were carrying firearms, and prepared to use them.’
‘The devils!’ cried Norris. ‘Is it possible they can have the heart to injureyou, after all you have done for them?’
‘No, no, massa!’ exclaimed the yellow girl; ‘coolies never hurting Missy Liz; they love her too much for dat. Only dey want revenge on Massa Courtney and de Governor and Missy Quita. Missy Liz, dey will fire de White House for sure, and kill de Governor! Hark! they hab passed oder side of plantation. Dey go by Oleander Bungalow to de big house, and nebber come near Missy Liz at all.’
‘They have come near enough, in killing my poor baby!’ exclaimed Lizzie, weeping, as she kissed the dead child. ‘If they loveme, why couldn’t they have sparedher?’
‘’Cause she belong to dat De Courcelles, and grow up bad like him and Missy Quita. Dat what dem trashy niggers say,’ replied Rosa, joining her sobs to those of her mistress.
‘Is it possible this child belongs to Lady Johnstone?’ demanded Norris.
‘Oh, hush, Hugh! don’t mention it, evenhere!’ said Lizzie. ‘I have kept the secret forhersake—not his!’
‘Oh, my brave girl, your love has indeed earned the martyr’s crown!’ he answered, looking at her with the deepest admiration and respect. ‘But hark, Lizzie! Surely the mob have turned this way.’
At that moment a kind of sudden rush through the darkness outside was followed by the entrance of Mr and Mrs Courtney, with Maraquita and Sir Russell Johnstone! The women were in their evening dresses—half fainting with fear, and their protectors were almost as agitated as themselves.
‘Lizzie,’ cried Mr Courtney, ‘give us shelter, for God’s sake! Hide us in your rooms, and this murderous crew will not dare to follow us there. They are fond of you, Lizzie, and they will believe what you say. Make them hear reason, in Heaven’s name! or we shall all be slaughtered before your eyes!’
‘Quick! quick! in here!’ she exclaimed, as she thrust the whole party into her own bedroom, and closed the door. ‘Go with them, Hugh,’ she said, when they had concealed themselves,‘and let me bring these mutineers to reason.’
‘And leave you to fall a prey to their baffled wrath, or become a billet for the first bullet that strays this way, Lizzie,’ he answered tenderly. ‘No, my dear. You have said you love me; and if we have to die, we will die together.’
Before she could answer him, a crew of dusky faces were surrounding the bungalow, blocking up the verandah, pressing into the doors, and filling up the framework of the windows.
‘Whar’s de Gubnor and de planter? Is dem in hiding here?’ they shouted. ‘Gib dem up, Missy Liz, or we must enter de bungalow, and we doesn’t want to do dat. Gib dem up, missy, and don’t you be skeered—no nigger hurting one hair ob your head.’
‘I’m not afraid of you for myself, myfriends,’ she exclaimed, standing out boldly to the front, and facing the crowd of rebels, ‘for you have always been good and kind to me; but if you love me, you will go away to your own quarters, and leave my house alone!’
‘D’rectly we finds de Gubnor and de planter, Missy Liz. But we’se sworn to ruin dem, and we must do it—dat’s so!’
‘And de Gubnor’s wife!’ shrieked a female voice, that might be heard all over the bungalow. ‘Dat gal what pretends to be so good, and dat is de moder of dat baby you keep, Missy Liz. She and Massa Courcelles know all about dat chile; and I wish dey could swing together!’
‘Hush, Jerusha, hush! Go away, and keep your evil tongue to yourself!’ cried Lizzie.
‘Dat’s true, and you know it, Missy Liz. And de Governor shall know it, too, and Massa Courtney, and all de world, dat she am no better than de poor coolie gals what go all wrong.’
‘Jerusha, Iimploreyou, for God’s sake!’ commenced Lizzie again.
But before she could finish her entreaty, Maraquita had pushed open the bedroom door, and stood beside her, pale and trembling, but not courageous, except with the courage born of despair.
‘Itistrue!’ she gasped, rather than said, ‘and I am ready to confess it. No, Lizzie, don’t try to prevent my speaking. Everybody may hear me now. I can suffer in secret no longer. Father, I am not what you thought me! I am a sinful girl, and I have let the burden of my shameful secret reston Lizzie’s shoulders. These people only say what is true. They hate me for what I have done, and want to revenge themselves on us all, for my sake. Perhaps, now that I have confessed my sin, they will pity and forgive me.’
She sunk exhausted with fear and shame on Lizzie’s shoulder as she finished her recital. Sir Russell Johnstone and her parents were standing by, horror-struck by what they had heard, and forgetful of their own safety in the agony of witnessing her humiliation. But Lizzie was the only person who addressed her.
‘Hush, Quita, you have said enough; and surely all will think you have suffered sufficiently, and need no further punishment.’
But the continual groaning and muttering of the crowd outside did not seemas though their anger was appeased, and Quita shuddered as she heard it.
‘Give me my child!’ she exclaimed wildly. ‘Everything is slipping from me. My father and mother stand by in silence, my husband will drive me from his house. Give me something that I can call my own! Lizzie, I want my child!’
‘Thereis your child, Quita,’ replied her adopted sister sadly, as she led her to the table. ‘God has already called it through their hands to Himself. They would not leave you even that poor consolation, my unhappy Quita.’
‘Dead!’ cried the unfortunate Lady Russell, as she gazed upon her infant’s breathless form, ‘dead!Oh, Henri, Henri, why was I ever untrue to you, and to myself? My punishment is harder than I can bear.’
As she sunk upon her knees, and her pitiful cry of ‘Henri’ sounded on the air, De Courcelles, unable to restrain his feelings longer, burst open his prison door and rushed in upon them.
‘Yes,’ he exclaimed triumphantly, as he glared round upon the parents and husband of Maraquita, ‘she speaks the truth at last. I had sworn to have her life, in exchange for that of which she has robbed me; but she has avenged herself. Take me prisoner again, as soon as you like. I shall die contented, to know what her future life must be.’
‘Dey nebbertakeyou!’ cried a shrill voice at the open casement, which was immediately followed by a shot, which brought Henri de Courcelles to the ground.
‘Jerusha!’ he muttered between his teeth as he fell, with the dark blood and froth bubbling from his lips.
Lizzie was at his side in a moment tearing away his shirt, and striving to stem the current of his life. But it was in vain. The overseer had met his fate at last, and was rapidly bleeding to death.
‘Henri,’ she cried, in a voice of distress, ‘I can do nothing for you! You are going to God! May He bless and forgive you.’
‘As—you—have—done,’ he gasped out, as his lifeless head fell from her arm.
Sir Russell Johnstone had stood by, stern and miserable, watching the pitiable sight, and listening to the confession which dashed all the brightness from his married life, but Maraquita andher parents had hidden themselves away, unable to bear such a strain upon their nervous systems. Hugh Norris seeing that all was over, came forward to take Lizzie in his arms; but she turned from him, and walked bravely into the midst of the mutineers. Their flaring torches fell full on her ashen face, and lighted up the large tears standing in her eyes; but she stood before them without one sign of fear, and her voice was loud and determined.
‘Are you satisfied now?’ she demanded boldly, ‘or are not two lives sufficient to gorge your lust for blood? Do you know what you have done? You say youloveme, and would not harm a hair of my head, yet you have killed the man you knew was dear to me! You have made me risk my life in vain. Two days ago I walked intothe Alligator Swamp alone, to find Henri de Courcelles, and save him from the gallows, and I brought him here, only to fall a victim to your barbarity. Was that love forme? And the poor baby too—the little innocent child that I was bringing up as my own, and that had never done you any harm, you must needs take that from me too. Now, what more do you want? Is it my own life? You may as well kill me as well as the rest. Perhaps I am not more worthy to live, in your estimation, than they were.’
At this harangue, the ringleaders of the mutiny drew back abashed. They had not calculated that in taking their revenge on Henri de Courcelles they would injure their ‘Missy Liz.’
‘Missy Liz, no talking like dat,’ said an aged negro, speaking for the rest.‘Missy know we lub her, and call her de Good Angel ob Beauregard.’
‘Then if you love me, coolies, prove it by what you do. Give up this hateful mutiny against those who only desire your good, and let the Governor, and Mr and Mrs Courtney, return to the White House in peace. If you don’t, I warn you my life will be the sacrifice, for you shall trample over my body before you enter the bungalow in search of them.’
She placed her two hands on the lintels of the doorposts as she spoke, to bar their way, and the negroes saw she was in earnest.
‘Go back to your quarters, my friends,’ she continued, in a softer voice. ‘In my name, and the name of all whom I love, I beg of you to return quietly to your homes, and relinquish your murderous design.’
‘Foryoursake den, Missy Liz, foryoursake,’ replied the coolies, as, startled, and somewhat ashamed of themselves, for they had no real cause of complaint, and had only been incited on by the example of others, the crowd broke up into groups, and commenced to walk back slowly to their homes. And then Lizzie turned round, and threw herself weeping into Hugh Norris’s arms.
THE END.
COLSTON AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.