The Knight Of The Golden Melice by John Turvill Adams (web based ebook reader txt) 📖

Writers To Ascribe To The Natives, Forgetting That

By Nature The Same Feelings Animate The Hearts Of All Men, Whatever

May Be The Degree Of Their Civilization, Or The Color Of Their Skin.

On The Contrary, There Were Smiling Faces And Tones Of Welcome, And

Other Demonstrations, That Proved The Existence Of Affection. The

Squaws And Children Looked Askance At The Strangers, But Their Glances

Were Rather Timid Than Obtrusive, And Augured No Unfavorable

Prepossessions. Accompanied By A Constantly Increasing Number, Our

Friends Were Conducted To A Lodge In The Centre Of The Village, Which

They Were Told They Would Occupy During Their Stay. It Was Carefully

Covered With Bark, And, As Usual, Skins Were Hanging On The Sides, And

Lying On The Ground For Couches, And There Were Some Cooking Utensils,

Made Of Clay, On One Side. Such Were All The Articles Constituting The

Simple _Menage_ Of The Child Of Nature, And Completed His Idea Of

Necessary Furniture. Here The Strangers Were Left By Their Guides,

Though Several Of The Tribe Remained Lingering Around The Wigwam.

 

 

 

"Thus Far," Said The Knight, Stretching Himself Out On A Skin, For In

Whatever Circumstances He Might Be Placed, He Was Always At His Ease,

"Hath Heaven Breathed Favoring Airs Into Our Sails. We Will Accept The

Omen And Be Hopeful For The Future."

  

 

"No More Skilful Ambassador, It Seems To Me," Said Arundel, "Ever

Mediated Betwixt Mighty Governments Than Thyself, Sir Christopher.

Why, Ephraim Pike Was Right, And I Did Injustice To His Hang-Dog Look

When I Distrusted Him."

 

 

"What Said He?" Inquired The Knight.

 

  

"That Our Journey Would Be A Mere Pleasure Flight, Unattended With

Danger."

 

  

"He Would Have Found It Different Had He Undertaken It," Muttered Sir

Christopher. "And Was It Ephraim Who Advised Thee To Associate Thyself

With Me?" 

 

 

"He Did Not Presume To Advise. I Scarcely Know How It Happened, But As

I Accidentally Met The Man, The Conversation Turned Upon Thy

Enterprise, Of The Dangers Whereof He Made Light." 

 

 

"There Is Some Mystery," Said The Knight, "Connected With This. Be

Sure The Obscure Varlet Would Not Have Sought Thee Out For Such A

Purpose Of His Own Motion, But Was Instigated Thereto By Another." 

 

 

"Who Could That Be, And With What Motive?"

  

 

"Nay, I Judge No Man; But, Perhaps, It So Happened That They Who

Intended Harm Conferred A Favor."

  

 

At This Moment They Saw Approaching Through The Opening In The Lodge A

Couple Of Squaws, Bearing In Their Hands Earthen Pots, From Which A

Warm Steam Was Issuing. These They Brought Straight Into The Wigwam,

And, Placing Them Before The White Men, Invited Them To Eat. After A

Few Words From The Knight, Which The Smiling Faces Of The Women Showed

Were Well Received, They Retired, And The Two Friends Addressed

Themselves To A Business Seldom Disagreeable, And Specially Pleasant

To Them. In The One Vessel They Found Pieces Of Broiled Venison, And

In The Other A Composition At That Time Peculiar To The Indians, But

Which Has Since Become A Favorite In New England, And Still Retains

Its Indian Name Of "Succotash." It Is A Dish Consisting Of Sweet Corn

And Beans Boiled Together, And Savored With Some Kind Of Meat,

According To The Taste. The Meat Preferred By The Vitiated Taste Of

The Whites Is Pork; But Inasmuch As Swine Were Unknown At The Time In

The Country, Except In The Civilized Settlements--The Unclean Animal

Having Been Introduced By The Europeans--Its Place In The Present

Instance Was Supplied By The More Wholesome Bear's Meat, For Such The

Experienced Palate Of The Knight Pronounced It To Be. At The

Completion Of The Meal, Although It Was Early According To Our Habits,

The Unbroken Silence That Reigned Around Indicated That The Indians

Had Retired To Rest, And The Two Weary Travelers, Imitating Their

Example, Threw Themselves On Their Couches.

 

  

Some Hours Had Passed Since They Laid Themselves Down To Sleep, When

The Knight Arose, And, After Glancing At His Companion, Started, With

A Light And Noiseless Step, To Leave The Wigwam. At The Opening He

Found A Taranteen, Whom His Stirring Had Wakened. With Him The Knight

Exchanged Some Whispered Words, And Then Took His Way In The Moonlight

Toward A Lodge Situated Near The Centre Of The Village, And

Conspicuous For Its Size. He Met No Interruption, And Having Arrived

At The Entrance, Drew Aside The Skin Which Served For A Door. The

First Object Which Caught His Eye Was A Flame Proceeding From Some

Pieces Of A Resinous Wood, Which Were Supported By A Sort Of Iron

Trestle Standing On A Rude Table In The Centre, And Sending Up Spirals

Of Smoke To Escape By An Aperture Above. By Means Of The Light Which

This Cast, He Was Enabled To Take A View Of The Apartment.

  

 

It Was Of An Oblong Shape, Some Forty Feet Long By Twenty Wide, And

Coming To A Line At The Top, And At First Seemed Destitute Of

Furniture And Of Occupants. As The Knight Stood Hesitating, A Voice

From The Remotest Part Of The Wigwam Addressed Him.

  

 

"Welcome!" It Said, In French, "True Son Of The Church! Valiant

Soldier Of The Cross! Servant Of Heaven! My Soul Hath Been In Travail

To See Thee; And Now, _Laus Deo_, Its Desire Is Gratified."

  

 

The Knight Advanced In The Direction Whence The Voice Proceeded, And

When He Had Passed On So Far That His Back Was To The Light, Could See

The Speaker. He Was One Who, Whatever Were The Mistakes Of His Creed,

Seems To Have Been Animated By A Purpose Lofty To Himself, And An

Ardent Faith In Its Truth, And, Therefore, Honor Be To His Memory, As

Well As To All Other Brave Spirits, Who, Like Him, (Though Erring,)

Forget Themselves For Others. But He Is Worthy Of Description.

  

 

He Was A Man Of About Sixty Years Of Age, Somewhat Under The Middle

Size, But Strongly Made, And Evidently Capable Of Enduring Great

Fatigue. His Eyes Were Black And Piercing, His Complexion So Dark As

To Be Almost Olive, And His Features Regular, The Mouth Being Small

And Sharply Chiseled And Compressed. Thick, Long, White Hair Covered

His Whole Head, With The Exception Of A Small Round Spot On The Crown

Which Was Bare, Revealing The Mark Of The Priest, And Fell Upon His

Shoulders. He Was Habited In A Long, Closely-Fitting Robe Of Some

Coarse Material, Which Had Once Been Black, But Was Now Faded And

Tarnished By Time And Exposure, And A Hempen Rope To Keep It In Place

Was Girded About His Loins. Such, As We Have Described Him, Was The

Famous Father Le Vieux, One Of The Most Active And Devoted Among The

French Jesuits In America.

 

  

Father Le Vieux Had Risen From His Seat, And Was Advancing Toward His

Visiter, When The Latter First Beheld Him. As The Two Men Drew Nigh,

The Knight Sunk On His Knees At The Feet Of The Priest. 

 

 

"_Salve Fili Mi!_" Said The Father, Laying His Hands On The Head Of

The Kneeling Sir Christopher. "_Beatus Qui Venit In Nomine Domini_.

Arise, My Son!" He Continued, In French, Taking The Knight By The

Hand, And Assisting Him. "Thy Companion, I Trust, Sleeps Soundly."

 

 

"He Is Asleep, Reverend Father," Answered The Knight, In The Same

Language, "Like One Who Has Made A Covenant With His Eyes Not To Open

Them Before Morning."

 

  

"May The Blessed Angels Press Their Palms Thereupon, That He Awaken

Not. Now, Then, Disclose To Me What, For Our Mutual Purpose, It Is

Meet That I Should Know." 

 

 

With These Words, He Led The Way Into That Part Of The Lodge Whence He

Came, And Was Followed By Sir Christopher, Who Sat Down By His Side On

A Sort Of Bench.

 

  

"First, Reverend Father," Said Sir Christopher, "Would I Confess My

Sins And Obtain Absolution. It Is Long Since My Bosom's Stains Were

Wiped Out By Authority Of Holy Church, And My Soul Languishes For

Forgiveness."

 

  

"Kneel, Then, And On Peril Of Thy Salvation Keep Nothing Back."

 

  

Sir Christopher, With Bowed Head, Knelt By His Side, And, In

Low-Murmured Tones, While The Priest Bowed Down To Him His Ear, Made

His Confession. It Lasted Some Considerable Time, For Which Reason The

Good Father Betrayed A Little Impatience, Either Because He Thought

That The Sins Were Too Trivial To Be Dwelt Upon So Long, Or Because He

Was Anxious To Hear The Communication Of His Penitent On Other

Matters. At Its Conclusion, He Placed His Hand On The Knight's Head,

And Said:

  

 

"The Sins Which, With A Penitent Heart And Lively Faith, Thou Hast

Confessed, Not Having Wilfully Concealed Anything, And Determined By

God's Grace To Commit Them No More, Do I, A Servant Of Holy Church,

Commissioned For That Purpose By The Successor Of Blessed St. Peter,

Whose Are The Sacred Keys, And Unto Whom And His Fellow-Servants It

Was Promised By The Head Of The Church, 'Whatsoever Ye Bind On Earth

Shall Be Bound In Heaven, And Whatsoever Ye Loose On Earth Shall Be

Loosed In Heaven,' Absolve Thee From, And Unbind And Remit Unto Thee,

Both In Time And In Eternity, _In Nomine Patris, Filii, Et Spiritus

Sancti_. Amen. Rise And Sin No More. And Now, Make Thy Report."

 

  

The Knight Rose From His Knees And Resumed His Seat, Whereupon Ensued

A Long Conversation.

 

  

It Referred To The Condition Of The Colony Under Winthrop, And Of The

Elder Settlement At Plymouth; The Prospect Of Their Increase; The

Dissensions Among Them; The Relations Maintained With The Savages, And

Influence Exerted Over Them; And, In Short, To Whatever Bore Upon The

Present Circumstances And Probable Destiny Of The Two Races. The

Occurrences At The Reception Of The Taranteen Embassy Were Also

Detailed--The Appearance Of Sassacus, The Excitement Of The Indians,

And The Consequences Which Followed.

 

  

"I Found It Hard," Said Sir Christopher, "To Allay Their Wild Passion

On The Discovery Of The Pequot Chief. I Had To Urge Upon Them That

They Were Committed To My Care By You (I Had Before Received Your

Missive From One Of Them) And That Instant Destruction Would Follow

Any Act Of Violence. I Reminded Them That Their Mission Was One Of

Peace, And Endeavored To Shame Them For Exhibiting So Much Feeling At

The Sight Of A Single Warrior. Nor Was I Blinded By Their Apparent

Submission, But Strove To Remove The Pequot Out Of Their Way. With How

Little Success You Know."

 

  

Father Le Vieux Listened With Profound Attention, And From Time To

Time Made Memoranda In His Tablets Of Those Parts Of The Communication

Which Possessed For Him The Deepest Interest. At Its Conclusion, He

Continued Silent Awhile, Looking Thoughtfully On The Ground, As If

Deliberating Over What He Had Heard.

 

  

"The Thoughts Of Man Are Vanity," He Said, At Length. "In A Way That

We Dreamed Not Of Hath Almighty Wisdom Delivered Us From This Peril.

Vainly, In Our Ignorance, We Strove To Prevent A Meeting Between The

Taranteens And The English Heretics; And Lo, It Was The Very Thing To

Be Desired! They Were Brought Together Only To Be More Widely Divided,

And A Commencing Friendship Has Ended In A Confirmed Enmity. Blessed

Be The Pequot, And Mitigated Be The Pains Of Purgatory To The Poor

Savages Who Fell In The Night Attack, For The Good They Have Done. We

Are Now Safe From This Danger."

  

 

The Father Paused, As If Reflecting, And Then Again Spoke.

 

  

"It Would Be Strange," He Said, "And The Thought Itself Seems Impious,

If This Goodly Land, With Its Thousands Of Immortal Souls, Should Be

Delivered Over Into The Hands Of These Accursed Heretics. My Heart Is

Troubled, And A Sacred Horror Invades Me When I Think Thereupon. This

Is A Time Of Tribulation, And Our Faces Gather Blackness. Holy Mary!"

He Continued, (Crossing Himself And Raising His Eyes To Heaven,)

"Intercede With Thy Glorified Son To Quicken Our Faith And Shorten The

Days Of Our Trouble. Let Not These Insatiable Locusts From The Pit Of

Darkness, Whose End Is Destruction--These Deceivers And Deceived, Who

Would Tear Down Thy Church, And Defile Her Altars, Have, Even In

Seeming, Their Will! O, Let A Strong Wind Arise And Cast Them Into The

Sea, That They May Devour Thy Heritage No More!"

  

 

"Amen, And Amen!" Responded The Sweet Voice Of Sir Christopher. "So

May All The Enemies Of The Church Perish! But O, Holy Father, Sad Is

It To See So Much Heroism In Men, So Much Resigned Fortitude In

Delicate Women, Such Wonderful Courage, Such Patience Wasted, In

Promoting Error."

  

 

"_Quam Diu Domine!_" Exclaimed The Father. "The Days Of Man Are But As

A Shadow And A Tale That Is Told. He Cometh Out Of Darkness, And

Returneth Thither Again. But Thy Years, O Lord, Are Everlasting, And

Thy Counsels Like The Great Deep. O, Stamp This Truth On Our Hearts,

And It Shall Cure Our Impatience. How Long Divine Wisdom Shall Permit

The Raging Waves Of This Pestilential Heresy Of The Arch-Deceiver, The

Licentious Luther, To Beat Against His Church, Threatening As With The

Jaws Of Hell To Devour Her, It Is Not For Man To