 | CHAPTER IX. Tales of the good woman |  |
9. CHAPTER IX.
The repulse of the savages had relieved the little
colony from immediate danger, but left it in
the same starving condition as before. The Indians
carried with them no provisions, and could
leave none behind. Smith, whose noble spirit
was always at work for the benefit of his fellow-sufferers,
had ever since the battle been revolving in
his mind a plan for making a distant excursion towards
the head of Chesapeake Bay, with a view of
bartering with the savages for their corn. Harrington,
Vere, and others of his friends, endeavoured
to dissuade him from his purpose; but he
was not a man to yield when he had resolved;
and was now concerting with Harrington, a
plan for departing the night but one ensuing, that
the savages might not know, and take advantage,
of his absence, and that of so many persons as he
must necessarily take with him. They had just
interrupted by the intrusion of Justice Knapp, and
Master Lavender; the latter of whom, as they
approached, whispered the other—
“Now, Justice, let thy gratitude shine forth
like a light from afar. Exalt my valour exceedingly.”
“Mum. Say no more, Master Lavender. I'll
blazon. Thy deeds shall be pictured, sculptured,
and engraven in brass and marble—they shall.”
“Why, Justice,” cried Harrington, as they came
forward, “hast risen from the dead? We thought
you lost.”
“Not lost—only mislaid a little—up a high
tree—hey, Justice?” quoth Lavender, aside to
him.
“In truth, Master Harrington,” replied the Justice,
“I was in great danger of being tomahawked
by the villains. But I gave them their bitters, I
warrant you. I was down—
“Up you mean,” quoth Lavender.
“'Slid! if thou art not silent about the tree, I'll
pledge mine office to the President, I saw thee
fleeing from thine own shadow, when it was invisible
to every body else—I will.”
“And so, Justice,” said Smith, “you were at
odds with them?”
“There was a whole tribe upon me; but I
ought to mention that they were dead—somebody
I could convert them into mince meat.”
“'Fore heaven,” quoth Lavender, aside, “there's
some grace in this fellow, yet! An he had not
let somebody else kill these savages for him, his
account of my valour had been deemed incredible.
Now, Justice, edge in a word or two
about my exploits.”
“Away!” cried Knapp, “thou braggadocio—
thou suborner of true men, to tell false lies—thou
air bubble, in azure satin doublet—thou that hast
not the valour of a lady's little finger, that shrinks
from the prick of a needle, though ensconced in
silver thimble. Get thee behind me, Satan!”
“Why how now Justice, in wrath?” said Smith.
“Aye, marry, sir—and with reason. Is not the
sin of ingratitude deadly? This craven coster
monger, did desert me in the thickest of the fight;
in the very teeth of danger.”
“Is it possible? Why, Master Lavender!”
“That ever I should have trusted this false
knave!” said Lavender to himself. “Justice,
thou liest like an almanac maker.”
“Lie in thy teeth! thou apocryphal beau. As
I am a despiser of cowards, this ungrateful offspring
of a tailor and a silkworm, after I had saved
his life three times: once from the fury of an enraged
poppoose, armed with a huge piece of a cornstalk;
secondly, from the nails of a warlike squaw
seized him by the cloak—this ungrateful poltron,
I say, after all this, deserted me in my sore extremity,
and climbed up a high tree for safety.”
“Shame, shame, Master Lavender,” cried the
others.
“Villain!” quoth Lavender, apart to the Justice,
“see if I don't baste thee in thine own gravy,
for this.”
“I defy thee, coward. I've not fat enough left
me to administer to thy diabolical malice.”
“What says he, Justice?” asked Harrington.
“He privately offers to bribe me to silence,
with his best satin doublet.”
“O! for shame,” cried Harrington, “offer to
bribe a justice! But is all this actually true?”
“True! were it not sheer idolatry, I'd kneel
down and swear to it.”
“But how did you discover the bird in his roost,”
asked Smith, willing to forget or beguile his
heavy cares for a moment, with the squabbles of
our two heroes.
“Why,” quoth the Justice, “being hungry, he
did essay himself to rob the nest of a valiant turtle
dove, that chanced there; when the she turtle, the
he one being absent, seeing him about to suck her
eggs, flew at him, and he did cry out for help
most lustily. Beholding this, my heart smote me,
notwithstanding his demerits, and I drove the
assailant away.”
“Justice! thou diest. This night shalt thou
sup with Pluto,” cried Lavender.
“A fig for Pluto! So I get any supper tonight,
I care not for my company.”
“Gentlemen,” cried Lavender, “as there is
truth in man, or honour among thieves, he hath
belied me. I did encounter a lusty savage, and
quell him with the aid of a stout cudgel only. It
was he that climbed the tree.”
“Thou liest, traitor,” roared the Justice; but
seeing Master Lavender making at him, added,
“and I've a great mind to tell thee so, marry.
But I will return thee good for evil, and excuse
thy want of courage on the score of thy valour
having been cooled by that same cold water,
which is a sore queller of manhood. I forgive
him sirs, and having now vindicated mine honour,
here offer him my hand in token thereof.”
But the enraged Master Lavender rejected this
offer of amity indignantly, and departed with looks
of deadly hostility to the valourous Justice.
| CHAPTER IX. Tales of the good woman | |