CHAPTER XI.
When Sir William Berkley embarked on board the ships, he left a companyof picked soldiers, commanded by an officer of tried fidelity, togetherwith the smallest of the vessels and her crew, with orders to bring thefugitive to Jamestown, dead or alive. In a short time that portion ofthe eastern shore, lately so full of bustle and activity, was wrapped inprofound repose, unbroken save by the monotonous tramp of the sentinel,pacing before the door of the mansion, now the solitary quarters of thesole remaining officer.
Bacon had perceived from his hiding-place, that some unusual commotionwas in progress between the quarters of the Governor and the ships lyingin the offing, and he was seized with the most eager desire to know whatit foreboded. For the first half hour, he lay in momentary expectationof the commencement of a naval action; at length he saw the glaringlights of the pine torches, skimming along the margin of the water, anddark shadows of moving crowds, as the boats floated to theirdestination. These movements he could not comprehend except by supposingthat the crafty old knight had set on foot some secret expedition, forthe capture of the newly arrived ships, the increased numbers of whichhe could easily perceive. But when the whole fleet set sail, with theexception of the small craft already mentioned, he was completely atfault. He was revolving these strange movements in his mind, when hiskind preserver came again to his assistance. She was moving like anunearthly spirit along the garden palings, cautiously examining everybush, when he presented himself before her. She led him by a circuitousroute, and one the farthest removed from the sentinel, to a lone cabinthat stood some distance from the main building, and that had latelybeen occupied by the inferior officers attached to Sir William's cause;it had formerly been used as a negro cabin. After she had ushered himinto the single room which it afforded, she pointed to a seat, and beganstirring up the coals which had been left from the culinary operationsof the late occupants. She was about sitting down to hear Bacon'saccount of himself, and doubtless of communicating her share ofinformation for filling out the history, but recollecting that he hadleft his food untouched, she hastily covered the light, and went out,carefully securing the door on the outside, but soon returned with aremnant of Tim Jones' chicken supper, which she had no doubt preservedfor her own use. This was speedily placed upon a rude table, and thefugitive urged to help himself in the midst of a torrent ofquestions.--Now she desired to know the fate of the Irishman--wherethey had landed after the shipwreck--who had so kindly nurtured andeducated him--whether he knew any thing of his relations in England--ifhe remembered any thing of her features, or her home in the old country.What was his occupation. Why Sir William Berkley disliked him, in whatposition he stood with regard to the beautiful invalid, who had shown somuch grief at the prospect of his immediate execution,--how he hadmanaged to preserve the locket so faithfully--and a hundred otherqueries of like import, with the solution to which the reader is alreadyacquainted, but which our hero answered with great impatience,interposing one of his own between every two of hers, and meanwhiledoing ample justice to the provision she had set before him. Thesubstance of the old woman's narrative was as follows:
"When Mrs. Fairfax, then Mrs. Whalley--"
"Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Bacon, dropping his knife and fork--"wasGeneral Whalley her first husband? Then indeed he and the Recluse arethe same person." The nurse stared at him a moment, but presentlyproceeded with her narrative.
"When Mrs. Fairfax, then Mrs. Whalley, left her infant son in my care,for the purpose of joining her husband, then an officer in the army ofthe commonwealth, I was entirely unacquainted with the opposition of herfamily to her marriage with General Whalley, and ignorant of theclandestine manner in which that ceremony had been performed, as well asthe subsequent privacy of their movements, which they thought necessaryfor their safety.
"It was a long time after her departure from my house, and after thetime of her promised return, before I received the least account of her,or the cause of her prolonged absence from her child. But when I did atlength receive a letter from the unfortunate lady, the whole mystery wascleared up. In that letter she stated 'that while she was on her way tojoin her husband, she was overtaken in the highway, by a party ofloyalist soldiers, commanded by her own brother. She was immediatelyrecognised by him, and sent under a military escort to her father'shouse, not, however, before she had time to learn from one of theprisoners under the charge of the party, the death of her husband, who,he stated, had fallen by his side.' She made the promised remittancesfor the support of her infant, and every thing went on in the usualtrain, until the time arrived for the next promised letter, which indeedarrived, by the hands of a very different messenger from the one beforeemployed. It was brought by the very brother who had arrested her in theroad, and sent her a prisoner to her father's house. He presented theletter unopened, but stated that he was fully apprised of its contents,as well as of the existence of his sister's child, which she stillsupposed unknown to her family. He told me that his father was almostbroken-hearted, on account of the disgraceful marriage which his sisterhad contracted, and that the sight of her infant in the house, or eventhe knowledge of its existence, would drive him to phrenzy; that hisbrothers and himself had therefore determined to take effectual means,not only to remove the child from within the reach and knowledge oftheir father, but of its mother also. That they were determined to takeit by force, a sufficient proof of which he showed me in a party ofarmed followers, (for they were all military men,) unless I wouldconsent to a plan for the removal of the offensive little stranger,which would secure all their views, and be, at the same time, moresatisfactory to himself and, he doubted not, to me. His proposition was,that I should remove with the child to a distant residence, the meansfor which he would amply provide; and that I should then wait on Mrs.Whalley, his sister, and inform her that her child was dead. As aninducement for me to be guilty of this deception, he informed me thatthere was a young Cavalier, of good birth and connexions, who wasenamoured of his sister, but if the child was permitted to absorb heraffections, and remind her of her lost husband, they despaired of everseeing her married to Mr. Fairfax, and consequently of wiping out thestigma upon their good name created by her first marriage. I was reallyattached to the little boy, and fearful that they would take him byforce if I did not quietly yield, and being assured that I should watchover him wherever he went, I consented to the plan. I waited on themother, and with well dissembled sorrow, told her of the death of herdarling boy. I thought at first that she would have gone distracted, butthe necessity of keeping her secret from her father and brothers, rousedher to the needful exertion. It was well that it was so, for I could nothave endured her heart-rending distress five minutes longer. The nextinformation I had of the unfortunate lady, was from the same younggentleman, her brother, who came to inform me of the success of theirplans and thus relieve my conscience. His sister after a tedious delayhad married Mr. Fairfax, and sailed for the Capes of Virginia. Heassured me that the child should always be provided for, but that I mustchange his name from Charles Whalley to some other, which I might choosemyself, so that he could never be able to trace his parentage. I wasfirmly resolved, however, that the innocent babe should some day knowhis real history. In the meantime I consented to all that the younggentleman desired, and he left the usual supply and departed. I neversaw him again. The remittances for the support of the child were indeedkept up for some time, but they at length became irregular, and lessfrequent. My mind began to grow uneasy concerning the charge which I hadthus by a crime brought upon myself, and which I considered but a justretribution for my evil deeds. Nor were my fears less anxious concerningthe future prospects of my innocent nursling. My health had well nighsunk under the accumulating load of poverty and unavailing regrets formy wickedness, and I trust that I sincerely repented of the evil deed.Providence at length directed to my humble dwelling one who appearedindeed as one risen from the dead.
"It was none other than General Whalley himself; he had really been shotin the
battle, but had recovered. Great God! what were my sensations,when the gigantic warrior, pale and worn with mental and bodilysuffering, threw aside his disguise, and avowed himself to me.Notwithstanding the embarrassing position into which his being stillalive was calculated to throw all parties, I fell upon my knees beforehim, and my Maker, and fully acknowledged my participation in thetransactions which I have related. He had heard of the marriage of hiswife to Mr. Fairfax, before he sought me out, but even at thiscomparatively remote period of time from her marriage, his huge frameshook, and he became like an effeminate being while he listened to mynarrative. He told me that he was likewise about to sail for America;not that he desired or intended to make himself known to his wife, butbecause it was becoming unsafe for him to remain longer in the kingdom.I have no doubt in my own mind, that he was unconsciously indulging hisdesire to be near his still adored Emily, in his choice of a place ofrefuge, which he now informed me, was the same to which she had gonewith her husband. He told me that it was his intention to live in thegreatest seclusion, and that his very name should be unknown in his newabode. He proposed that I should follow him, after he should haveestablished himself, and made arrangements for my comfortable reception,the time for which was specified. I felt myself impelled by an imperioussense of duty to repair, as far as lay within my power, the injury whichI had helped to inflict upon him, and therefore consented to leavecountry and home with my little charge, now become so dear to me.
"After furnishing me with the necessary supplies for the long anddreaded voyage, together with particular directions as to the place ofembarkation, and the course I was to pursue after arriving in Jamestown,General Whalley left me, and I have never seen or heard of him to thepresent hour. I did not consider that surprising, however, because heinformed me that he would never more be known by the name of Whalley,and that I must school myself carefully before my departure for America,never to drop a hint that he had ever been more than he seemed to be inhis new abode. But to proceed with my story. He had directed that Ishould sail with the boy after the lapse of one year from the time ofhis own departure. The most of this interval was employed in making myown little preparations for so long a voyage, and my final separation inthis life, from all my kindred and friends. I had promised to keep mydesign as secret as possible, and every precaution was indeed taken tokeep my intended departure a secret from all but my own immediaterelations. But by some means unknown to me, my design became known toothers, as I was apprised one day, by a visit from a gentleman namedBacon!"
The fugitive instantly dropped his knife and fork, which he had beenoccasionally using as the story of the nurse ran upon those eventsalready known to him, but now a new name was introduced, and one which,it may be readily imagined, did not fail to command his undivided andbreathless attention.
"Mr. Bacon informed me that he had heard of my intended expedition, andthat I was to take out with me the tender boy then on my lap, and saidhe could readily surmise that the late unfortunate civil wars were insome way or other the cause of my undertaking so long and dangerous avoyage. As he saw my embarrassment from not knowing how to answer him,he hastened to assure me that he did not desire to pry into my secret.That he was placed in somewhat similar circumstances himself, to thosewhich, as he supposed, operated on the parents of the boy. He informedme that his brother and himself had both been unfortunately in the armyof the commonwealth, in which his brother had fallen, and that he hadleft an only son to his care, the mother of whom had died in giving himbirth. 'Now my object in coming to you, my good woman,' said he, 'is toprocure your assistance in conveying my ward to Virginia.'
"I readily undertook the task, and all necessary arrangements were madefor the boy's comfortable passage. Some months before the time ofembarkation, little master Bacon, or I may as well say yourself, wasbrought to me, in order that you might learn to know and love me beforewe set sail for this distant land. When I was on board the vessel, andhad paid for my own passage as well as for those of my little charges,the money for which had been provided by the friends of each, I wasstartled to perceive that Mr. Bacon did not join me as had been agreedupon. My anxiety became more and more intense as the time approached forweighing anchor, for although I was amply provided with all necessaryfunds, my mind misgave me that some accident had befallen theunfortunate gentleman. He was indeed in disguise when he came to see me,and I doubt not, was a fugitive from the powers that then ruled ournative land. My worst apprehensions were realized--Mr. Bacon was eithermade a prisoner, prevented from joining me by apprehension, or chose todeceive me in the whole business, but I have always religiouslybelieved, since I have had time to reflect dispassionately on thesubject, that his absence was not a matter of choice.
"We had a pleasant and prosperous voyage, until the first night after wecame in sight of land, when such a storm arose, as it seemed to me thatthe whole world was coming to an end. Daylight found us a miserablecompany of forlorn wretches, hanging upon the wreck. The boats werealready loaded to the water's edge. I prayed and entreated some of thegood gentlemen to save my two precious boys, if they left me, but alas!every one was taking measures for his own safety. There was one poor,ignorant, but tender-hearted Irishman, who had been a soldier, thatseemed to commiserate my helpless little charges, his name was BrianO'Reily--a talking, blundering, merry youth he was then. At lengthseeing some prospect of effecting a landing, he made a raft of parts ofthe wreck, and trusted himself and you to the mercy of the treacherouswaves. That was the last I ever saw of the warm hearted Irishman, and ofyou, until I accidentally discovered, while you were asleep in thecellar, the identical locket containing your mother's likeness, which Ihad placed round your neck with my own hands. I saw the resemblance,too, which you bore to my lost boy, and was immediately satisfied thatGod had preserved you, in his own way and for his own wise purposes, andI determined also to save you, if I could, from the cruel punishmentwhich I learned more fully from the sentinel, the Governor intended toinflict upon you in the morning. Thank God, I have succeeded. Now dotell me, what I have asked you so often, what became of the Irishman,and where you were landed and how preserved."
"First tell me, good nurse, how you escaped the wreck, and what becameof your other ward. It is of immense importance for me to know. Theliberty which you have given me is worth nothing, without a clearexplanation of these points."
"That I can soon inform you of--the Captain, kind and generous man thathe was, seeing the probable success of the Irishman's plan, adopted ithimself, and after making a raft, with the help of some of his crew,placed all the females on it who chose to venture in preference towaiting for the return of the boats. Myself with my little remainingboy, and several other females who were steerage passengers, sufferedourselves to be lashed to the frail machine. For four dreadful hours wewere tossed about at the mercy of the waves, the water for at least halfthe time dashing over us, and, as it seemed, carrying us half way to thebottom. At length, however, we landed upon the eastern side of this veryneck of land, where I have remained ever since. I have never set my footon board of any kind of water craft from that time to this. Togetherwith another of the females mentioned and my little boy, the son ofGeneral Whalley, I wandered through swamps, and marshes, and sea-weeds,until we had entirely crossed the neck--never having eaten one mouthfuluntil we arrived at this plantation. Here we were most kindly receivedby the widowed mother of the present proprietor, Mr. Philip Ludwell; butalas, my little boy had suffered too long and too severely from thecombined effects of the night upon the wreck, the succeeding sufferingsupon the raft, and the hunger endured before we came to this place. Hesunk rapidly, notwithstanding the humane exertions of the good lady whohad extended her kindness toward us. He died and was buried on thisplantation--I have preserved his little clothes and trinkets to thisday. Little did I think at that time that you had outlived him."
Bacon then performed his promise, and related all that he knew of hisown and O'Reily's escape from the wreck--and likewise informed her thatthe latte
r had been on the "eastern shore" within the last two hours,but, he supposed had been taken as a prisoner to Jamestown by SirWilliam Berkley. "But tell me," he continued, "have you never seen orheard any thing of General Whalley, or Mrs. Fairfax, since you partedfrom them in England?"
"I have never heard a word of the General from that time to the present,though I have questioned every body that came from Jamestown. I knewthat he intended to assume another name, and other habits, and Itherefore described his person and manners, but no one had ever seensuch a personage!"
The hasp flew from the pine log into which it had been inserted, and thedoor was driven back against the opposite wall. "Thou beholdest him now,woman! look at me!" and he pointed to his now haggard features, "and saywhether I am that man!"
But his gigantic figure, never to be mistaken, had scarcely darkenedthe doorway, before the person he addressed began to gasp for breath,and seized the arm of Bacon for protection--calling upon him for God'ssake to save her--her eyes meantime immoveably fixed upon the intruder'scountenance.
"Quail not, woman; there is no one here to harm thee, if thy ownconscience condemns thee not. I have heard part of thy story, as Ilistened at the door, in order to find out how many of the Governor'sminions I should have to slay before freeing the boy. Lay thy hand uponthe Holy Evangelists, woman," and he drew his clasped Bible from hispouch and extended it across the table to her, "and swear that this boyis not my son, whom I entrusted to thy care."
With a trembling hand she touched the holy book, and said as distinctlyas her fears would permit, "Before God and upon his word, I testify itas my firm and unwavering belief, that this young man who sits beforeme, is Nathaniel Bacon, and not your son."
"It was indeed my boy, then, whom thou buried upon this lone shore?" Andwithout waiting for an answer he threw himself into one of the rudeseats, leaned his head down upon the table, and gave himself up touncontrolled emotion.
Bacon was moved to tears as he saw the stern Recluse thus overwhelmedwith grief at the breaking up of the last tie that linked him to earth.He remembered, as he looked upon his agitated frame, how uncompromisinghad been the frowns of fortune upon this now solitary being. Once he wasflushed with the joy of youth, and love, and hope, and fired with amilitary ardour like himself. But now (as he supposed) he was an outlaw,and an exile from his country--unconsciously abandoned by a dotingwife--his only heir, and the sole stay and hope of his declining yearsdead and buried upon the very spot where he at last found the nurse towhom the child had been committed. He remembered also his unwaveringkindness to himself, and his general benevolence and kindness of feelingtoward his fellow men, and he unconsciously let fall the words whichrose embodied to his tongue, as with swimming eyes he looked upon him,"'Tis a hard and cruel fate!"
"Rather say that retributive justice pursues and overtakes the guilty tothe ends of the earth," answered the Recluse, raising his head erectfrom the table. "Oh God, how just and appropriate are thy punishments!How true and discriminating is thy retribution. Behold here a wretch whohas fled three thousand miles from the scene of his crimes in the vaindelusion that he could flee from himself and the mysterious all seeingeye above! Young man, there is a mysterious system of ethics which theworld understands not--the reputed wise, subtleize it, and the vainlywicked contemn and despise it. It is comprised in the simple wordsjustice--probity--and benevolence! There is a power of bringing aboutits own ends in the first which none but the wickedly wise know. Yea,and bringing it about by the very weapons used against its dictates, andif not upon the very scene of the crime, at least in a place peculiarlyappropriate. Behold here before you this worn down remnant of humanity,summoned, as he supposed, to rescue the last of his race from the powerof the oppressor; but in truth, only to weep over the grave of his realson, buried on this spot years ago. This hand once aided in severing thelinks between father and son,--a man as innocent and unoffending as hisoffspring was helpless. A royal line they were. Just heaven, how thatcrime has been avenged! How strangely and how justly! Probity andbenevolence are mysteriously bringing about their own righteouspurposes, as does justice her avenging decrees. The worldly wise lookwith contempt upon simple honesty, but the highest ultimatum of earthlywisdom and experience is to have the power and the knowledge of thewicked with the simple guide, that justice, probity and benevolenceunerringly work out their own reward.
"The wickedly wise cunningly suppose that they are cheating their Godand their fellow men; the last they may temporarily deceive, but theGreat Political Economist of the universe so overrules their cunning,that their own hands are forging the chains of their future captivity,at the very moment when they suppose themselves constructing daggersfor their neighbour's throats, and keys for their strong boxes. Themysterious power of which I speak is felt always in the latter end ofhuman life, but can never be described to those just entering upon thescene. Thrice blessed is he, my son, who can fall before his Maker andsay that justice, probity and benevolence have been his ruling motivesof action--whether from the dictates of the heart or of the head. Thatthou art one of those I have long believed, and if thou art not the sonof my loins, thou art of my affections. Come, my boat waits for thee;thy presence is even now needed in Jamestown. Thy troops are encampedbut a few miles from the town, and are wondering at thy absence. TheGovernor has embarked for the city to perpetrate more wrong andoppression. By the will of Heaven this rusty weapon shall once more dobattle in a holy cause."
As they were leaving the cabin, Bacon turned to the nurse and embracingher said, "I go hence, good Margaret, to battle in the cause of mycountry, and that right speedily. If I am successful, you will soon hearfrom me, and if not, you will have the consolation of knowing that yourfoster son died as became the son of a soldier. Before yon rising moonhas twice performed her circuit, I will be either the conqueror ofJamestown or buried in its ruins."
With hasty strides he followed the Recluse, who was already half way tothe little secluded inlet from which he had landed. As they approachedthe water, Bacon could perceive two slender masts dancing in themoonbeams, as the dark hull of a fishing smack pitched and tossed withthe swelling billows. Stepping into a log canoe, (such as surround allwater bound plantations in slave countries,) they were speedily on boardthe diminutive craft, where two lounging fishermen waited theirapproach. The wind was blowing fresh from off the sea across the neck ofland they had just left, and they scudded before it at a rate, if notquite equal to the impatience of the more youthful voyager, at leastwith as much rapidity as could reasonably have been expected. TheRecluse seemed as usual inclined for thoughtful silence, and as hiscompanion leaned against the mast of the rocking vessel, he saw theworkings of a mighty mind--wrecked, as he supposed, upon some unseenobstacle, as it was impetuously borne along by the resistless tide ofyouthful hopes and aspirations. He could not believe that the Reclusehad ever been deliberately base or cruel, as he himself had more thanhinted. "At least," said he, as he communed with himself, "he has paidten-fold penance for a single error."
The Recluse at length perceived that his companion was observing him,and arose from his half recumbent position, and stood beside him, hisarms folded for an instant, and his attenuated countenance, as itreflected back the sickly rays of a hazy moon, settled in profoundmelancholy. He took the hand of the youth, and shook it some time inagitation before he could give utterance to his thoughts, but at lengthhe said in a voice which betrayed the violence of his feelings,
"Nathaniel, canst thou forgive me for that cruel mistake at the chapel?Oh, couldst thou know what I suffered then, and since, both on thyaccount and my own, thou wouldst accept it as ample atonement for theunintended wrong. I saw, on that dreadful night, her who was the queenof my manhood's fondest dreams--who had basked with me in the sunshineof youth and hope--who had given me her young affections in return formy own, when life was in its bud, and who afterward blossomed into therich fruition of maternal love and beauty in these arms--her who wastorn from me by a base deception of her kindred, and marr
ied to another.I saw her face to face, for the first time in more than twenty years,when she was about to give the offspring of her second marriage as awife to the offspring of her first, as I supposed. Oh, what humanconception can realize the torrent that broke over my soul at thatfearful moment? The shadowy remembrances which had been softening andfading in the lapse of years burst at once into life and being. Time andplace were forgotten--the passions of youth rushed into the contest, andI stood as the frail mortal body shall stand at the final day, when itsown spirit knocks for entrance. The buried ghosts of my own passionsrose from their grave, the frail cloak of stoicism which had been wovenround me, was blasted into shreds and patches, and I stood and quailedbefore a woman's eye like Belshazzar at his feast. Thou hast felt thyheart swelling and plunging against its bony prison, but thou hast neverhad it gorged and choked with the dammed up waters of bitterness,gathered through long and dreary years. Thou hast felt the words stickin thy throat, and refuse to leap into life, but thou wert never struckdumb with a judgment from Heaven, like a thunderbolt scorching andsearing into the very citadel of thought and vitality! Thou hast writhedwhen stung by the scorpion tongue of calumny, but thou hast never beenoutlawed and abandoned of all human kind--condemned by thy ownconscience--and given up of God!"
His eye shot forth vivid fires, and his arms, as they were flung abroadin violent gesticulation, cast giant shadows upon the moonlit waves ofthe Chesapeake.
"You do both yourself and your friends grievous wrong," said Bacon,after a painful pause.
"I have indeed wronged myself--most wretchedly wronged myself, but notnow; the wrong which I did to others has recoiled ten-fold upon my ownhead. I know full well thy meaning--thou wouldst say that kindlyfeelings are not wholly dead within this seared heart! But thou hastmade but little progress in analyzing our moral structure, if thou dostnot know that crime committed by one whose nature would lead to good,is the true source of that misery which surpasseth speech.
"An intuitive villain, if there be such, or one become wholly corrupt,plunges from transgression to transgression, until his final ruin,without enduring any of that wretchedness which comes of a stain upon atenderer conscience. Such a man has no conscience; it is seared orobliterated; but he of benevolent heart and virtuous impulses, woundshis guardian angel by the deed. The taint corrupts and sours the sweetsof life into gall and bitterness. If that stain be but a single deed,and that, dark, damning and indelible, the perpetrator becomes as anangel of light in the companionship of hell. He may be likened to onewho loses the power of sight, with all the other senses perfect. Hehears what others see, but to him the grand medium of perception is darkand dismal, and the rhapsodies of others are his own damnation. There isbut one hue to his atmosphere; it is the fearful red which only theblood of man can dye. In his case the language of scripture is fulfilledbefore its time. The moon is turned to blood, and the morning beamdispelleth not the horrid hue."
Bacon thought any direction of his companion's thoughts preferable tohis present mood, and therefore said "But she whom you supposed mymother--"
"I know it all, my son," interrupted the Recluse; "I saw the marblefeatures upon their last journey. For twenty years I have not enviedmortal being, but I confess to thee, that there was something in thecessation from thought, suffering and action--and the sleep-likeserenity of death for which I longed. Nevertheless, there is an awfulmystery in that which seemeth so simple in itself. Mere lifeless clay,moulded by the hands of man into the same stamp, speaks not to man inthe same language; it may indeed refresh the memory, but it stirreth notup the divinity within us. Who is he that looketh upon the features ofthe dead and looketh not up to the giver and recipient of life? I sawher mortal remains laid out in the midst of a camp, and the busy worldfaded away into indistinctness, while the God of the universe spoke inthe person of the beautiful corse before me and said, 'Thus far shaltthou go and no farther.'"
As they steered their course uninterruptedly towards the source of thePowhatan, which they had entered as the sunbeams broke through themorning mists, Bacon threw himself down, and slept soundly, until he wasaroused by the Recluse to inquire what direction their agents shouldgive the vessel when they arrived within sight of the city.
He was roused to immediate thought and action by the question. He knewthe danger of entering the capital, now that it was in the possession ofSir William Berkley, and therefore directed the boatmen to land him somemiles above.
The Recluse, at his own request, was put on shore somewhat nearer thecapital, but entirely out of reach of any precautions which thevigilance of the Governor might have instituted.
Bacon inquired eagerly, why he left him, after his promise to draw hissword in the cause of the people and the country, assuring him at thesame time that he intended bringing the matter to immediate issue.
"I leave thee now, my son, to set my house in order. Trust in one whohas never failed thee in need. I will be with thee in this laststruggle--for there is something whispers me that it will be the last.Leave the event, therefore, with him who rules the destinies ofbattles." And with these words he sprang upon the shore and disappearedin the forest.
In a few hours more, Bacon was again at the head of his devoted troops,who were entirely ignorant of the cause of his protracted absence, butnow that they knew its cause, were bursting with ardour to avenge hisown and his country's wrongs.