During all this talk, my mind in a ferment, I was forced to sit with elbows glued to sides, unable to put the query for Mademoiselle which trembled upon the lips even as I listened to what was going forward.

I had kept my eyes upon Olotoraca, the nephew of the great chieftain, as he sat leaning forward with hands upon his knees listening to the words of Dariol. ’Twas a wonderfully handsome face and even the hideous streaks of crimson upon it could not disguise the regularity of the features and the expression of candor and fearlessness which animated them; and the pride of his port was that of a prince, heir to some great kingdom. As he glanced about the cabin from time to time I caught his eye and gave him a look of welcome which he returned with a smile. The sun coming in the after-port lit up the scarlet streaks upon his face and head-gear and penetrated the ferocious disguise, reducing him after all to his proper dimension – a fine, brave lad of five and twenty, who if born an Englishman would have served his queen with honor and profit.

So I took a mind that this Olotoraca should be the one with whom I would speak of Mademoiselle. Not until the planning and discussion of the attack upon Fort San Mateo had become general could I get the ear of De Brésac and then I told him what was in my mind.

“Olotoraca,” said Brésac, when at last we had come together, “it will not be many suns ere your crest will wear another eagle’s feather. You will go upon such a warpath as was never known among the tribes of Satouriona or Tacatacourou; and when you come back to your village there will be many trophies upon your girdle and you will be a great chief among your people.”

His eyes shone as he said simply, “It is so – or I shall be dead.”

“You may one day be Paracousi of all your nation. After the great Satouriona is gone, it is to you that our people will look for the friendship which has been begun to-day.”

“The Paracousi Satouriona and Olotoraca are one in all their thoughts. For is it not from him that Olotoraca has learned the signs of the forests and the medicine of his tribe? How shall he change what Satouriona has done? What Satouriona does is good, and shall not be altered.”

“It is wisdom, Olotoraca. For the French are a great people and they love their friends with their whole hearts. At Fort Caroline Monsieur Killigrew and I have fought the Outinas and the Spaniards for Satouriona; and soon our chief with the pale face will revenge the insults and abuses which the Black-beards have put upon you.”

The young brave at the mention of the name of Killigrew had sent his cold glance upon me with startling abruptness as though to pierce me through. For the nonce he was a wild animal of the forest again. Then he looked calmly at De Brésac.

“Keel-ee-gru – the pale giant is called Keel-ee-gru?” He muttered the words half aloud, half to himself and then tossed his head so that the bear-claws rattled about his neck.

“You have heard my name?” I asked.

“The Captain Keel-ee-gru is a friend of the Paracousi Emola. A friend of Emola is a brother of Olotoraca,” he replied easily.

A look passed between the Chevalier and me. There was that in the manner of Olotoraca which we could not understand. But De Brésac had made a quick theory of his own, and acting on it as was his wont, he put his hand upon the muscular shoulder of the young warrior, turning him about and looking him steadily in the eyes.

“We believe in the truth of the things you say, Olotoraca, and for our part we will keep our promises. But you, what have you done for us since we have been away? What will you do for us when we are gone?” The Indian did not look at De Brésac, but straight before him.

“We will keep friendship as we have ever done,” he said evenly, “asking no more than we can give.”

“You have kept friendship with our people?” said the Chevalier craftily, and I saw his drift. “Then you have among you those who escaped from Fort Caroline!”

A great change came suddenly over the face of the young brave. He flashed the eye of a hawk first at the Chevalier and then at me. De Brésac was impassive. I was leaning forward, the query that was vexing my soul hanging upon my tongue. His face lost the boyish look and in a moment became again as it was when he mounted the entering ladder – haughty and immobile.

“There is but one of your race among us,” he said, carelessly, “a youth who calls himself Debré. He is at the village of the Paracousi Satouriona and will be brought hither on the morrow.”

It all happened thus as I have written it. ’Twas but a second of time that his eyelid fluttered at our sudden query as he sought to gain his composure. But in that brief moment there was that which showed us that the personal friendship which this young brave avowed was no friendship at all, but only breath upon his lips and in no manner to be believed. If something had happened to make the Indian distrust us, ’twas no good beginning for our foray. And these doubts must speedily be cleared if success was to attend our undertaking. For my part I was so sure Olotoraca was lying, that I made myself no concern over his denial. A French youth named Debré had escaped and had been cared for. Then why not others? If Satouriona was a friend of the French, then all refugees should be safe in his lodges.

After the Indians had been set ashore again and De Gourgues had been told of the manner of Olotoraca, he stroked his chin gravely.

“You are certain of some deception? H-m! That is strange, for I have found a great frankness in the manner of the Paracousi. But it may be as you say – and we will be upon our guard against him. ’Tis most certain that these Caribs do hate the Spaniards with a mortal hatred and we must show no doubt of them until our mission is accomplished. So I say, do nothing to gain their enmity, even should you believe that friends of yours are in their keeping.”

These were orders and he spoke them firmly. But all night long I strode up and down the deck under the deep vault of starlit sky, trying to hit upon some plan by which I could learn the truth. Why had Olotoraca started at the mention of my name? Emola had spoken it, he said, but my return to Florida should be no cause for alarm or even surprise to him, since in the presence of that chief we three, De Brésac, Goddard and I, had sworn to visit vengeance upon the Spaniards, and Emola knew that we would return as soon as could be. Unless our judgment was at fault there was some matter of common interest between this young Carib prince and me. For the chance perception which had enabled us to pierce the weak spot in his armor had shown that there was something in his mind against me, which in spite of his accustomed immobility he could not hide. What could it mean? The instinct of battle and the desire to measure my strength and skill against any man who looked at me askance, an instinct which has not been taken from me even at this day, rose up strong and I vowed I would have some fair good exercise from this fellow, should he not explain. Perhaps Mademoiselle —

Ah – there was I making mysteries again! Why should I be forever bringing her forward into every uncertainty. At any rate Debré, the boy, would know. If she were among the Indians he could tell me where. Upon his speech, then, hung all my chance of earthly happiness.

Early on the morrow we went ashore and with a ruthless disregard for the orders of De Gourgues I set about trying to find Olotoraca. But since dawn he had been gone with our scouts to reconnoiter the Spanish fort. Satouriona was at the encampment, sending out his runners and receiving messages from the outlying villages. He received us gravely and took us to his lodge, lifting the deerskin at its entrance with a grace and courtliness to excite the envy of a gallant. He gave some orders, and when we were seated and De Brésac asked him who were the French people that had escaped into his hands, he looked at us from the one to the other, saying most frankly.

“We have only one, my brother, and he is but a boy. Because of the love which we bear his people we have kept him safe, though the Spanish have offered us many gifts to return him to the Fort. We love him now for himself, and have made him one of our people. Behold, he is here!”

And turning, we saw a youth of sixteen or thereabouts standing at the entrance of the lodge. For a moment he drew back, awkward and fearful, and would have vanished had not De Brésac called to him in French.

“No. We are no Spaniards, mon cher, but those of your own race. Come then!”

So great was his joy that with a cry he threw himself upon us, clasping and patting our hands for all the world like some dumb animal at the sight of its master. Satouriona, cautioning us with a smile not to do him hurt, wrapped his blanket about him and went out of the lodge down to the beach to meet the boat of De Gourgues, which was reported to have left the Vengeance.

Debré was a slender lad of comely appearance; but neither I nor Brésac remembered to have seen him at Fort Caroline. When his first transports of delight were over and we had told him that our object was to destroy the Fort and to restore fugitives such as he to their kinsmen, he looked at us in dismay, saying of his own accord,

“Alas, messieurs, I am the only one who has been spared.”

That was all I wished to know. I would have arisen and gone forth from the lodge but Brésac looked at me, laying a hand upon my arm.

“Wait,” said he.

Then said the Chevalier to the boy,

“You alone escaped from the Fort. Did you come direct to the Indians of Satouriona?”

“I fell in with a war party of Tacatacourou. They brought me to the chief village of Satouriona.”

“You saw no other persons from the Fort?”

“Oui, monsieur. There were several men who fled through the swamps.”

“But no women?”

“Non, monsieur. Stay – yes, there were two women who fled by the casement before me and whom I saw in the forest.”

“Do you remember them, Pierre?”

“Oui, monsieur – they were ladies who came upon the Trinity with Admiral Ribault. They were noble, I think – though I do not remember the name, – La – La – ”

“La Notte?”

“Yes, that is the name, monsieur. I know it now, because Mademoiselle was very beautiful, and when we landed from the Gloire I asked my mother how she was called.”

“And you saw them no more after that?” We leaned forward breathlessly to get the boy’s reply.

“Monsieur, I was wild with fear,” he said, flushing red in shame. “My mother had been killed before my eyes and two Spaniards had pursued me to the breach in the wall. I fled to the forest, passing these women in my flight. I ran on and on until I dropped exhausted in the thicket.”

“You have not seen them since?”

“In the head village of the Indians?” he asked wide-eyed with surprise. “No, monsieur! They could not have been in the village of Satouriona or I should have known.”

He spoke with an air of conviction which drove away doubt from the mind.

But De Brésac pursued his questions undeterred.

“There is a village called Tacatacourou, is it not so?”

“Oui, monsieur.”

“It is possible that other French persons could have been kept there without your knowledge?”

“Oui, monsieur,” said the boy wondering – “but why should the great Paracousi, who had been so kind, keep me away from the people of my race? I cannot understand.”

“You may know in time, my good Pierre. But there is a mystery which you may help us to solve – only let no word of this come to the ears of the Paracousi.”

“Monsieur,” said Pierre firmly, “Satouriona is my father and if any harm – ”

“Ah, my child, you do not comprehend,” smiled De Brésac. “We are friends of Satouriona and with him we will fight the Spaniards. You must take our word that we mean him no harm.”

“I will, messieurs,” replied the boy at last, sighing.

“It is well, mon ami. You will have no cause for regret,” said De Brésac. “You have been to the village of Tacatacourou?” he continued.

“No, monsieur. It is a day’s journey from the village of Satouriona.”

“Did you not wish to go?”

“Oui, monsieur, but there was no opportunity. The Paracousi Olotoraca feared I should be captured by the Spaniards.”

“Olotoraca!”

“Oui, monsieur. The Paracousi Olotoraca has been a good friend and brother to me.”

“Ah! I understand. He thought that you might be captured again. But why should you fear capture on such a journey? Is not the village of Tacatacourou to the northward of this place, – away from the fort of the Spaniards?”

“I do not fear, monsieur,” replied Debré with dignity; “but if the Paracousi Olotoraca did not wish me with him, it was not possible for me to go.”

“Then he did not desire you to go? That is what I wished to learn,” said De Brésac with a smile. Then after a pause, “Why did Olotoraca go to the village of Tacatacourou? Is he not the nephew of Satouriona? Is not his place by the side of his uncle the great Paracousi?”

“Monsieur, the Paracousi Olotoraca is a great brave and the first young chief in all the country. He looks about him that he may choose a squaw from the most beautiful maidens of the nation. Therefore he goes to Tacatacourou. This is the common report.”

“Then he loves? The women there are beautiful, Pierre?”

“So it is said, monsieur; though having seen none of them, I cannot say. Perhaps that is why he did not wish me to go; or perhaps that is not the reason, – I cannot say. That is all I know, and I pray that no harm may come of the words I have spoken.”

“Never fear, good Pierre. You have done well. Now if it pleases we will go forth to meet the Chevalier de Gourgues. You will tell him what you have told us, and as much more concerning the armament and condition of Fort Mateo as you have been able to learn from the Indians. Will you go too, Killigrew, or will you await us here?”

“I will stay,” said I with a sigh, dropping on a pile of skins.

The Chevalier looked at me sharply.

“Pouf! Have you no instincts – no perceptions? You grow weary at a most purposeful time!”

But I did not reply. Of a truth, I was weary. So many times had I sailed these flights of fancy to have my poor sails torn to shreds and my poor hulk racked bone from bone, that I was for choosing at the last some harbor of refuge where I could find a rest after it all. I had come with my harebrained followers over a thousand leagues of sea, – and for what? For murder? – for destruction? – for a vengeance by fire and sword, as the others had? No. It was not that which had drawn me to these God-forsaken shores – drawn me more surely than ever plummet sought an anchorage. It was the memory of a pair of honest eyes with tear-drops trembling on the lashes, as my lady bade me go and fight her battle for her – a battle which by God’s grace had been deferred until now. True, I wanted the life of De Baçan – that was my own private affair. But what cared I for their wars about religion? There was sin enough in any worship which was not done in the way of peace and good-will and I knew that we as well as the Spaniards would all be most justly condemned for using God’s altar to wipe our sword-blades on. With the discovery that Mademoiselle was not in the village of Satouriona my mind seemed to be weakening, and I had not control over my thoughts. The Chevalier de Brésac with his fine philosophy had solved the matter to his satisfaction, seeing in the actions of Olotoraca at mention of my name a sure sign that for reasons of his own, he held Mademoiselle de la Notte a prisoner. I could not – nay, would not, – bring myself to believe she was at the village of Tacatacourou. A truce to imagining! I had gone too far, and suffered too much, to be inventing new theories to drive me mad. We had voyaged from one end of the earth to the other and had come at last to the place where I had sworn we should find her. And she was not there! That was all. I had had enough. God forgive me! As I lay there in my unreason, I lost all control and cursed all things that came to my tongue, forgetting that it was only through God’s providence that I had been let to live and come to this day.

Not caring what came of me I lay there oblivious, until I presently heard a sound without. I raised my head, a figure darkened the door of the lodge. For a moment, I thought it was Pierre returning. But a moccasined foot was thrust forward, and with a deft and graceful movement the figure dropped the skin at the entrance way and stepped within the lodge. Then I saw that it was an Indian, a girl – the most beautiful of that race I had ever seen.

As I lifted on my elbow I brushed my hand across my eyes, for so quiet was she I thought truly that this dusky vision was some creature of the fancy. With a commanding gesture she approached. I would have spoken; but she placed her finger upon her lips, looking around toward the entrance in token of secrecy. I kept my peace. At last she uttered the one word, Maheera and, touching her breast with a long slender finger, I understood that she was telling me her name. The words, uttered in a quiet tone, seemed to come from her throat rather than from her lips and her voice was very low and sweet. When she had said that, she touched me upon my arm calling me Keel-ee-gru as though my name were some word in the soft language of her own. I marveled that she should know me and could not understand what she wished. But in a moment her object was clearer, for she began to speak in the sign language which these strange people have for conversing with one another when their tongues are unfamiliar. Of this I understood a little. She had several French words, and she moved her lithe young arms and body with wonderful grace, telling me by pointing to her dusty moccasins and simulating weariness that she had come a journey from a great distance to seek me. I nodded my head in comprehension.

Then her face grew sad and her body seemed to melt to nothingness. She clasped her right hand upon her left and laid them both upon her heart, saying the name of Olotoraca. So gentle, soft and lingering was the word upon her tongue and so melancholy her attitude, no language could have told plainer that her heart was hers no more and that a sadness had come upon her. She sighed deeply, looking upon her hands and fingering her silver bracelets. I put my fingers upon the head in pity, for I too knew what heart wounds were.

But at my touch she shrunk away and her mood changed like an April day. The look she flashed up at me was one of pride and majesty, and there was a spark of vengefulness, of wild unreason in it that taught me how concealed and subtle were the channels of her thought. She wanted no pity – none from me at any rate. In a moment she was gentle again, telling me that she had come from the village of Tacatacourou and, with a gesture which I might not mistake, that she was a princess of the blood.

It was not till then, not until she had mentioned the name of her tribe and village, that I even so much as thought upon the object of her visit to me. Then the suspicions of the Chevalier, the association of the names of Olotoraca and Tacatacourou linked her story together in my mind in some fashion. She had come from Tacatacourou! I started up drawing in my breath quickly and looking her in the eyes. What if – if – ?

She saw the note of anxious and expectant inquiry in my look and met it with a smile and sparkling eyes.

“Oui, oui,” she cried in joy. “The Moon-Princess! The Moon-Princess!”

I understood. This was no mill-stone to look through. I remembered the name Satouriona had given to Mademoiselle at Fort Caroline. The darkest hour of my night was past and it was dawn that was breaking.

CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MOON-PRINCESS

Taking Maheera by the hand and lifting her to her feet, I pointed to the entrance of the lodge, where the sunlight was sifting through, and motioned her to lead on. With a friendly look she put finger upon her lips again and peered out across the clearing. She shook her head, and lifting the skins at the rear of the lodge motioned me to follow. Soon we had crept through the thicket into the forest and went rapidly down the long aisle of pines. At last the sounds of the Indian encampment were merged into the voices of the wood. A bird was singing somewhere and the sough of the wind through the tree tops overhead somehow brought back in a sudden flood of memory the nights at sea when Mademoiselle and I journeyed towards this wild western land.

It had all come so suddenly that I was bewildered, as one who has been rudely awakened from a long sleep. Truly I had been sleeping and the hideous pictures I had dreamed were false, De Brésac was right after all; it was his keenness of perception that had guessed the truth. It almost angered me to think that my intuition, steadfast through all these long months, should have failed me at the time when my heart was nearest its desire; but I was too near happiness to let any other emotion enter into my soul.

I hurried on through the forest with Maheera; who, regardless of the heat of the morning and the roughness of the traveling, moved on beside me, seeming not even to touch the ground and giving no sign of fatigue. Her soft moccasins made almost no sound among the dried branches, while I, unskilled in wood-craft, crashed through them, awkward and heavy-footed, raising many a bird and beast which skurried away into the underbrush terrified at such noisy and unaccustomed intrusion. But for all that, it seemed to me as though my feet bore wings and once or twice I found myself going at so round a pace that my companion was sore put about to keep up with me. Then, with an exclamation at my lack of thought, I reduced my gait and we went along more reasonably side by side. Her mouth was set and she kept her glance before her upon the ground. She had traversed this distance once before, during the hours of the night, but no complaint or sound of any kind came from her throat. At about noon, when I wished to know the distance of the place to which we were traveling, she looked at the sun and pointed to the heavens, signifying that at an hour midway between noon and sunset we should reach our journey’s ending. Once only did we rest. When I, feeling that the pace must be telling upon her, stopped and pointed to a fallen tree, she shook her head and would have gone on had I not taken her by the hand and led her to a seat, placing myself beside her and offering her a mouthful of eau-de-vie from the flask which by some good fortune I carried. We ate a few wild berries and then hurried onward. We had gone what I should have thought to be a distance of five or six leagues when there opened out in front of us a quiet valley with many fields of grain which cut into the hills with squares of green and yellow. Beyond, by the border of a river which lay like a silver snake in the meadows, was the smoke of the village of Tacatacourou.

Maheera, wishing to conceal the object of our coming, had not chosen to go straight as the eagle flies from the encampment of Satouriona. By taking a roundabout way we had escaped the curiosity of the braves of Tacatacourou, who were hastening to the great war dance and the “black-drinking” which Satouriona had proclaimed before the attack upon the Spaniards. Maheera, halting upon the edge of the clearing, made a sign to me and we stopped. She motioned me to take my place behind her, and following a thicket we moved cautiously, encircling a plowed field in which two women were working. Presently we passed the trees upon which they had hung their babes, this being their custom, and I thought we must surely have been discovered, for the infants made sinister, wry faces when I came close to them and seemed about to cry out. But Maheera crept up, crooning in a low tone; and, saying some phrases in her soft voice, held them quiet till I had got by and was safely in the underbrush of the forest beyond. We walked silently for some time longer, threading the mazes of the forest, and at last Maheera led me, trembling at the nearness of my happiness, to an open place within a close growth of great pine trees where several lodges, neatly thatched and cared for, stood in an enclosure. Then with a smile the Indian girl beckoned me on and pointed to the entrance of the palisade.

I walked forward upon my tip-toes and craning my neck here and there in a very agony of expectation. Maheera fell noiselessly behind me, and the crackling of every twig beneath my feet seemed to shake me like an aspen. But we must have made little noise, for we reached the gate of the palisade without notice and scarce daring to breathe, I looked around the entrance post.

Mademoiselle was there! She sat upon a wooden bench beside the door of the lodge. Her look was turned toward the west and she did not see us as we paused upon the threshold of the palisade. Her hair was cast loose about her shoulders; the breeze played wantonly with its meshes, and the slanting sun burnished it with a golden glow like an aureole. She was dressed, like Maheera, in deerskin; and so pale a gem did she seem in this rough setting that her very slenderness and fairness startled me into the dread that she was translated, and no more a creature of this earth. I feared to move and break the spell that held me. But an Indian woman who sat opposite, weaving, glanced up at this moment and espied us; and then my mistress turned her head.

“Mademoiselle!” I cried, coming forward, “Mademoiselle, – it is I!”

She started to her feet; but casting a fleeting glance upon me, turned half around and fell senseless upon the ground.

Maheera was on her knees beside her in a moment, and together we carried her within the lodge and laid her upon a bed of skins and hemlock-boughs. It was not until then that I saw how wasted she was. I cursed myself for the boor that I was to burst upon her so. What if, after all she had suffered, she was to fade away like a flower under my very eyes. It were better that she had been struck down among the first at Fort Caroline. What if I had killed her? The misery of that moment! I fell upon my knees, raised my voice and prayed to God, who had watched so long over her, that she might be spared.

The moments passed anxiously. Maheera forced eau-de-vie between her lips and at last, with an intaking of breath that racked her from head to foot, she opened her eyes and looked to where I knelt beside her, my anguish all unconcealed.

“Ah yes,” she sighed, “I remember now! It was silly of me. I have never done so before. But I am so weak, – so weak – ”

Brave little heart! Undaunted and strong even in her weakness!

“Nay, sweetheart. It was I who startled you. Blame it to me. God knows, rather would I cut my hand from my body – ”

She laid her soft fingers upon my wrist.

“Hush!” she said gently, “I know. I have learned. I know how you love me, – dear.”

She paused as she gained her strength, while I mutely worshiped – then she went on reverently.

“It is that which neither time nor distance can alter. It has been with me always, and so I knew that you still lived and one day would come for me.”

I had no answer but to press my lips upon her slender wrist.

She closed her eyes for a while and seemed to sleep, while I sat beside her bed in great ferment of mind at her suffering. But soon Maheera came into the lodge with a bowl of some steaming herb. This Mademoiselle drank with relish and Maheera propped her up with robes and branches. As she grew stronger the faint color came back into her cheeks.

“It is over now?” she asked at last.

“Yes. It is over. There shall be no more suffering. Your friends are here and you are safe.”

She leaned back her head, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly. Presently, as a thought came to her, she started up from her pillow.

“Olotoraca!” she said half in alarm. “Where is Olotoraca?”

I set my teeth as I thought of the haughty young brave and his lies to me in the cabin of the Vengeance.

“You are the prisoner of Olotoraca, Mademoiselle? If he has – ”

“There! there! Vex me not now, Sir Firebrand.” She smiled.

“But, Mademoiselle – ”

“Nay, I am aweary. Vex me not, – there must be no anger between you two. What! Cannot you understand? He can be no enemy to you – ”

“But he lied to me! He would have concealed you and kept you from your own people.”

“Yes. I am his prisoner. But you must listen to me and do what I ask of you. When you know, you will say, it is rather a debt of gratitude than of blood that you owe him.”

“Say on, dear heart, I will listen.”

“Then it is this.” She paused, fingering the robe. “Olotoraca loves me, Sydney. – Nay, do not scowl so blackly. For shame! And he but a savage creature of the woods! Can you not understand? It is a kind of worship. Though he comes often to this place, he stands aloof and waits upon me as though I were a very queen, content only to look and do my bidding; asking for nothing and hoping for nothing that I could not give.”

“But he has kept you here!”

“Where else could I go, good Sydney? Here was everything this country affords. I have been safe and cherished by his people, and this old woman and the gentle Maheera; guarded, until last night when they were called to the war dance, by his own braves with never a fear of beast or Spaniard. Sydney, it was this Paracousi who saved my life from De Baçan, and it is he who has preserved me against their expeditions. Presently you shall know. Ah, you wrong him to doubt for a moment his service or his intent. Has he not saved me for you? No! no! no! There must be no more blood – no more blood! But where is he, Maheera?” she inquired anxiously. “Where is Olotoraca?”

“There is no need for fear,” said the girl. “Olotoraca is at San Mateo.”

“Ah, I am thankful.”

Mademoiselle gained strength rapidly. Happiness does not often kill. And as for me, what could I say? The mastery of my spirit was no easy task, but as I looked at her and thought of all her suffering there was nothing I would not have done for her. I resolved not to wait for Olotoraca but to take her away aboard the Vengeance before he returned. Afterwards, when I learned of the battles he had fought in her defense, upon my soul I began to have a liking for the man, as I had at first sight of him, in the cabin of the ship. The love we bore made this red chief and me akin.