University of Virginia Library

13. CHAPTER XIII.

Shortly after Juana entered the cavern, two
figures, one slight and boyish, the other taller and
stouter, came forth from the cave, passed with a
hasty and suspicious tread by the drunken guard,
whose pistols they secured, and crossed carefully
the plank bridge over which the taller, who was in
female apparel, carefully assisted the lighter, who
wore a cap and pea-jacket.

On gaining the shrouds, the apparent female
passed her arm around the waist of the boy, and
supported his unsteady and unpractised footsteps
down the descent to the deck.

“Now dearest Constanza, all your energy and
presence of mind is necessary. There stands the

watch with his head leaning upon the quarter rail,
holding to a stay. He is not wholly intoxicated,
but we must pass him as Juana and Théodore; now
move lightly and firmly.”

“Va usted a los infiérnos!” muttered one of the
sleepers, as the count's foot pressed heavily upon
his hand.

Constanza had the presence of mind not to scream,
when the disturbed sleeper turned over upon his
hard bed, and grumblingly fell asleep again.

“Who are you, there? Carramba! Is it you Juana?
Por amor de dios! but that agua de vita of yours JuJuana
my beauty, has made the schoo-schooner,
and the bay, and the land, go rou-round in a merry
reel,” he said, slowly and thickly articulating—“Fa
la rá la ra lá, la! But who is that Juana?” he said,
suddenly stopping in the midst of a drunken pirouette.
“Oh, I see! Señor Théodore. Your humble
servant; I kiss my hand to you. It is your next
watch Señor Théodore, your watch! Do you take
Señor Théodore? I b-believe I am drunk or getting
so—but it's all owing to—to that beauty there—she
fascinated me master Théodore, she fascinated me.
There sweet Juana, hold up your pretty face, let
me banquet on it. So, gi-give me a small sip more,
one si-sip at that fl-flask; what kills may cure, yo-you
know, Señor Théodore!”

The disguised count handed him the bottle, and
while he was diligently engaged in quaffing its contents,
he handed Constanza over the side of the
schooner into the boat, and immediately followed
himself.

“Ho! wh-where are you go-going, Juana?—oh!
I, I see, to get the clothe-clothes. Well, I'll take
them up—take them up,”—and as he made an attempt
to reach over the quarter-railing, he lost his
equilibrium, and staggering backward, fell across
the companion-way, where he lay nearly insensible.

“Now, Constanza, dearest,” said the count, “sit
perfectly still. Are you alarmed? have you all
firmness?”

“Perfect—perfect, Alphonse,” she whispered,
“I can assist, if you require it.”

“No no, dearest, brave girl! I shall need only
your mental energies.”

Cutting with a cutlass which he had taken from
the deck, the painter, or rope which secured the
boat to the schooner, he cautiously, and without
noise, shoved off from her. Then seizing an
oar, five or six of which besides a mast with a
single sail lay along the thwarts, he wrapped a
portion of the carpet which he severed for the
purpose, around it, and placing it in the rowlock
or cavity fitted for its reception in the stern, gently
as though he plied a glass oar, he turned the head
of the boat, and impelled her, by sculling, across
the basin to the entrance of the rock-bound passage
which communicated with the open sea.

Constanza, with a fluttering pulse but courageous
heart, sat silently by him. Not a word was spoken,
and not a sound was heard around them. Even the
motion of the blade of his oar as it divided the water,
was noiseless, and the ripple under the stem
scarcely reached her ear.

They had now entered the passage, and with
more boldness and assurance the count urged forward
his little bark. Their bosoms began to swell
with hope, as the schooner, the mouth of the cave,
and the tall cliff gradually faded in the distance;
when suddenly, the loud voice of one giving the
alarm as they thought, fell upon their ears with
fearful distinctness, curdling the current of life in
the bosom of the maiden, while a cold thrill passed
over the heart of her lover.

“We are missed,” said the count incited to
greater exertion, “but the chances are on our side.”

With a seaman's skill he worked the single oar,
and urged the boat through the water with increasing
rapidity.

But a single voice had yet been heard by them,
and listening, they recognized the air of a song,
which some one—Diego, as they judged from the
sound of the voice, was singing in a wild air—

“It is but that drunken watch,” he said, as he
listened to the last notes of the song dying away in
the distance, “he has recovered from his momentary
stupor, and is now giving vent to his excitement
in a bacchanalian song. Would to heaven he had
been as much of the animal as the guard. Be not
alarmed dear Constanza,” he continued, stooping to
kiss her brow, “do not fear; there is no real danger;”
and he still swayed vigorously to the oar.

“But may not Lafitte, who is so rigid in his exactions
of duty, if he is awakened by this man,
come to learn the cause and discover us? Heaven
forbid! Holy Maria bless us, and aid us with
thy presence!” and she sought her crucifix to press
it to her lips, as she lifted her heart in devotion.

“Oh! Alphonse—I have lost my crucifix, my
mother's dying gift;” she exclaimed, alarmed, “my
long cherished medium of communication with heaven!
Oh! have you it?”

“No, dearest, you have probably dropped it.”

“My sainted mother! it is an augury of evil.
Holy virgin protect me!” and tears filled the eyes
of the lovely petitioner, as with locked hands she
gazed upwards.

“Calm your feelings, sweetest,” he said cheeringly,
“we shall soon be free. See! they pursue
us not. Listen! the voice of the singer is scarcely
heard; and look about you! we are just at the
mouth of the passage with the open sea before us,
and Port au Prince but a few leagues to leeward.
Courage my brave Constanza,” he added encouragingly.
“Now we are out of the pass—I feel

the sea breeze already upon my cheek. See how
it is playing with your hair. No, do not fear; do
you see that bright burning star, deep set in the
heavens, directly above us? That star, my love, I
have always regarded as the star of my destiny—
whenever that is in the ascendant I am successful.
Be happy, for with that eye of light open above us,
we have nothing to fear.

“Feel the wind! how refreshing it comes from
the sea! Now Constanza we will hoist our sail;
and the gull shall not skim the water with a
swifter wing than our little bark.”

He raised the mast, and hoisted the little latteen
sail, which swelling and distending as it caught the
breeze, instantly depressed the boat down to one
side, and impelled her rapidly over the water. Under
the influence of this new agent, it sprung
lightly forward, skipping from wave to wave and
dashing their broken crests from her bows.

The count who had taken his seat by the side of
Constanza now that the boat was urged forward by
the wind was congratulating her upon their escape.

She silently pressed his hand, and kept her eyes
fixed steadily on the shore.

“Did you see that light?” she said, suddenly clinging
to his arm.

The count, who was intent upon his duty of governing
the boat, whose head he turned towards the
entrance of St. Marc's channel in the direction of
Port au Prince, where he expected to find his frigate,
turned and saw the edge of the moon just appearing
above the distant cliff and broken into apparent
flame by the woods over which it was rising.

“No no, sweetest, it is the moon; a second augury
for good. It smiles upon our departure. See
now, as she ascends the skies, how she flings her
silvery scarf out upon the waters.”

“No no, not that, it was a flash. Hark! did you

hear that?” she exclaimed, as the heavy report of a
gun came booming over the sea.

“It is indeed a gun, and fired from the schooner;
but be not alarmed, they can hardly reach us.”

“Hark! what whizzing, rushing sound is that
over our heads?”

“A bird, merely,” said the count quietly; and then
added to himself, “That shot was well aimed.
Courage my dearest, this beautiful boat was built
for sailing. If this wind holds, we shall make Cape
St. Marc by sunrise, and then if we are pursued,
which I doubt, we can run into the town—but if
not, we will continue on to Port au Prince, which
is but fifteen leagues farther. Ah! there is another
flash.”

A few seconds after he spoke, the report of a
second gun came sharply from the shore.

“Courage, Constanza! they cannot reach us now.
That too was shotted,” he added. “If they have
discovered our escape, Constanza, dearest, they are
firing at some object which they think is our boat.
It will require time to take them off and put them
on the right track. Blow bravely winds! Are you
confident, dearest?” he asked, pressing her to his
heart; “there is now no longer cause for fear.”

“Yes, now I begin to hope we may yet escape.
Heaven, I thank thee!” and she looked devoutly
upward, the mellow moonlight falling upon her fair
forehead, and adding a richer gloss to her dark hair.
In that attitude something fell from her bosom, and
rung as it struck the bottom of the boat.

“There is your crucifix, sweet Constanza,” he
said, bending to pick it up—“What! no, a dagger!
What means this?”

“My last hope on earth, if yon outlaw had retaken
us,” she answered, with firmness and emotion.

“God forbid! Constanza;—noble spirited woman!”
he exclaimed, embracing her.

Morning found the lovers in sight of the town
of St. Marc. At the first moment of dawn the
count eagerly searched the horizon for an indication
of being pursued, and just as the sun lifted his disc
above the inland mountains, his beams fell upon a
white spot many leagues to the northward, and on
the verge of the sky and sea.

Pointing out to her the pleasant town of St. Marc
at the head of the bay of the same name, he suggested
to Constanza the expediency of continuing
their course to the port of their original destination;
as the sail which he saw in the distance, even if in
pursuit, was too far off to overtake them. To this
she acquiesced with buoyant spirits.

Before a steady wind, they now held on their way
along the romantic and cultivated shores of the
channel—their bosoms elated with the hope of soon
terminating their varied and trying adventures.