need have no fear," she exclaimed, hastily interpreting my thought. "Father Petreni can be fully trusted. He is more than my religious confessor; he has been my friend from childhood."
"Yes, Monsieur," he interposed sadly, yet with a grave smile lighting his thin white face. "I shall be able to accomplish little in your aid, for my trade is not that of arms, yet, within my physical limitations, I am freely at your service."
"That is well," I responded heartily, words and tone yielding me fresh confidence in the man. "This is likely to prove a night when comrades will need to know each other. Now a few questions, after which I will look over the ground before attempting to outline any plan of action. You say, Madame, that your—Chevalier de Noyan is a prisoner on the fleet in the river. Upon which ship is he confined?"
"The 'Santa Maria.'"
"The 'Santa Maria'?—if memory serve, the largest of them all?"
"Yes! the flag-ship."
"She lies, as I remember, for I stood on the levee two hours ago watching the strange spectacle, close in toward the shore, beside the old sugar warehouse of Bomanceaux et fils."
"You are correct," returned the Capuchin soberly, the lady hesitating. "The ship swingeth by her cable scarce thirty feet from the bank."
"That, at least, has sound of good fortune," I thought, revolving rapidly a sudden inspiration from his answer, "yet it will prove a desperate trick to try."
Then I spoke aloud once more.
"She appeared a veritable monster of the sea to my backwoods eyes; enough to pluck the heart out of a man. Has either of you stepped aboard her?"
The priest shook his shaven head despondently.
"Nay; never any Frenchman, except as prisoner in shackles, has found foothold upon that deck since O'Reilly came. It is reported no negro boatmen are permitted to approach her side with cargoes of fruit and vegetables, so closely is she guarded against all chances of treachery."
"Faith! it must be an important crime to bring such extremity of vigilance. With what is De Noyan charged?"
"He, with others, is held for treason against the King of Spain."
"There are more than one, then?"
"Five." He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "Madame de Noyan's father is among them."
"Lafrénière?" I uttered the name in astonishment. "Then why am I not asked to assist him?"
The thoughtless exclamation cut her deeply with its seeming implication of neglect, yet the words she strove to speak failed to come. The priest rebuked me gravely:
"Thou doest great injustice by such inconsiderate speech, my son. There are hearts loyal to France in this province, who would count living a crime if it were won at the cost of Lafrénière. He hath been already offered liberty, yet deliberately chooseth to remain and meet his fate. Holy Mother! we can do no more."
I bent, taking her moist hands gently between my own.
"I beg you pardon me, Madame; I am not yet wholly myself, and intended no such offence as my hasty words would seem to imply. One's manners do not improve with long dwelling among savages."
She met my stumbling apology with a radiant smile.
"I know your heart too well to misjudge. Yet it hurt me to feel you could deem me thoughtless toward my father."
"You have seen him since his arrest?"
"Once only—at the Captain-General's office, before they were condemned and taken aboard the flag-ship."
"But the prisoners are Catholics; surely they are permitted the offices of the Church at such a time?"
A hard look swept across the Capuchin's pale, ascetic face.
"Oh, ay! I had quite forgotten," he explained bitterly. "They enjoy the ministrations of Father Cassati, of our Order, as representative of Holy Church."
"Pouf!" I muttered gloomily. "It is bad to have the guard-lines drawn so closely. Besides, I know little about the way of ships; how they are arranged within, or even along the open decks. We meet them not in the backwoods, so this is an adventure little to my taste. It would hardly be prudent, even could I obtain safe footing there, to attempt following a trail in the dark when I knew not where it led. I must either see the path I am to travel by good daylight, or else procure a guide. This Father Cassati might answer. Is he one to trust?"
The priest turned his head away with a quick gesture of indignant dissent.
"Nay!" he exclaimed emphatically. "He must never be approached upon such a matter. He can be sweet enough with all men to their faces; the words of his mouth are as honey; yet he would be true to none. It is not according to the canons of our Order for me thus to speak, yet I only give utterance to truth as I know it in the sight of God. Not even the Spaniards themselves have faith in him. He has not been permitted to set foot upon shore since first he went aboard."
"And you have no plan, no suggestion to offer for my guidance?"
"Mon Dieu, no!" he cried dramatically. "I cannot think the first thing."
"And you, Madame?"
She was kneeling close beside a large chair, her fine dark eyes eagerly searching my face.
"It rests wholly with you," she said solemnly, "and God."
Twice, three times, I paced slowly across the floor in anxious reflection; each time, as I turned, I gazed again into her trustful, appealing eyes. It was love calling to me in silent language far more effective than speech; at last, I paused and faced her.
"Madame de Noyan," I said deliberately, my voice seeming to falter with the intensity of my feelings, "I beg you do not expect too much from me. Your appeal has been made to a simple frontiersman, unskilled in war except with savages, and it is hardly probable I shall be able to outwit the trained guardsmen of Spain. Yet this I will say: I have determined to venture all at your desire. As I possess small skill or knowledge to aid me, I shall put audacity to the front, permitting sheer daring either to succeed or fail. But it would be wrong, Madame, for me to encourage you with false expectation. I deem it best to be perfectly frank, and I do not clearly see how this rescue is to be accomplished. I can form no definite plan of action; all I even hope for is, that the good God will open up a path, showing me how such desperate purpose may be accomplished. If this prove true—and I beg you pray fervently to that end—you may trust me to accept the guidance, let the personal danger be what it may. But I cannot plan, cannot promise—I can only go forward blindly, seeking some opening not now apparent. This alone I know, to remain here in conversation is useless. I must discover means by which I may reach the 'Santa Maria' and penetrate below her deck if possible. That is my first object, and it alone presents a problem sufficient to tax my poor wits to the uttermost. So all I dare say now, Madame, is, that I will use my utmost endeavor to save your hus—the Chevalier de Noyan. I request you both remain here—it would be well in prayer—ready to receive, and obey at once, any message I may need to send. If possible I will visit you again in person before nightfall, but in any case, and whatever happens, try to believe that I am doing all I can with such brains as I possess, and that I count my own life nothing in your service."
However they may sound now, there was no spirit of boasting in these words. Conceit is not of my nature, and, indeed, at that time I had small enough faith in myself. I merely sought to encourage the poor girl with what little hope I possessed, and knew she read the truth behind those utterances which sounded so brave. Even as I finished she arose to her feet, standing erect before me, looking a very queen.
"Never will I doubt that, Geoffrey Benteen," she declared impulsively. "I have seen you in danger, and never forgotten it. If it is any encouragement to hear it spoken from my lips, know, even as you go forth from here, that never did woman trust man as I trust you."
The hot blood surged into my face with a madness I retained barely sufficient strength to conquer.