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.'You stop them,' he muttered, and ran up the beach, away from the blood and the stench, and the pitiful helpless bodies.He reached the coolness and the shelter of the trees, and checked.Wapisiane knelt there, staring at the village, his face expressionless.Edward crouched beside him.'You cannot stay here,' he whispered.'You must get away, into the interior of the island.Tonight you must come back to the beach.I will have a canoe for you, and you will get away to Nevis.There are no Indians on Nevis, to our knowledge.' Wapisiane stared at the white man.'Can you not understand me?' Edward asked.‘I am sorry for what happened.Sorry.By Christ, there is a profound statement.I would not have had it so.They were afraid.But it is done, now.Nothing can make your uncle and his people come back to life.I would have warned them, but I was too late.Now you must think of your own life.You are the only survivor.They have kept some of the girls, but you are the only male.'Wapisiane's head remained still, but his eyes seemed to have spread, until his face seemed nothing but eyes.'Say you will take care,' Edward begged.'Say you will make your escape tonight.''Wapisiane take care.''Thank God for that,' Edward said."We have had our differences, Wapisiane.But I would remain your friend.Perhaps we shall meet again, one day.Until then, here is my hand.'Wapisiane looked down at the outstretched fingers.'Wapisiane take care,' he said.'Wapisiane live.Wapisiane return.War-nah.' he drew his finger across his throat.'Belain.' again the gesture.'Ber-wicke, Ash-ton, Hil-ton.' the finger moved to and fro.'Gal-ante, and women.Rebecca.Susan.' Now his hands came together, and then moved apart with hurried, brutal strength.Edward started to protest, and then thought better of it.'Aye,' he said.'You are entitled to be bitter, Wapisiane.Time is our best course.'Wapisiane stood up, looked down on the white man.'Edward,' he said.And once again the finger travelled across his throat, but this time very slowly.Then he was gone into the forest.The fire blazed over the Indian village.Additional dry wood had been brought from the forest, and the smoke from the funeral pyre billowed high into the air, up and ever up, for with the rising of the sun the breeze had dropped, and there was nothing to disperse the smoke.And so it rose, in a long column, hundreds of feet into the air, certainly visible from Nevis and Antigua and Montserrat, and perhaps even farther away than that, a signal of the catastrophe which had happened on Merwar's Hope.Farther down the beach, the white people prepared to bury the first of them to die on the island.They moved in silence, still burdened by the guilt of what they had clone.For how long, how many years, would they carry that weight around their necks?The grave had been dug by the Irish labourers, who now gathered in a whispering group by the houses, their habitual jollity quite forgotten.The Irish women were also grouped, gazing at their husbands with new eyes; they had not suspected that the fathers of their children would be men of blood.Rebecca stood by herself, dressed, at her husband's command, in her best gown, the one she had worn to the feast, not a week ago, beneath the broad-brimmed hat which she used to keep the sun from her complexion.It was a man's hat, and served several purposes.Today it kept the tears and the horror which vied for supremacy in her face from being revealed to the crowd.Sarah stood beside her, fingers clutching her mother's skirt.Both women shook, but this day it might easily have been emotion rather than the fever which was their habitual companion.Philip and Edward stood together, close by the grave, and in front of the assembled Frenchmen.Like their mother, the boys had put on what they could find in the way of decent clothing.Edward's shoulders had not been covered in months, and the material felt uncomfortable against his skin.He listened to his father reading the service, in slow and sonorous tones.But Father had spoken no service over Tegramond.He had hurried away from that funeral.He glanced at his brother.Philip had not been present at the massacre, and he watched his father with admiration.Father was a man of steel.And Philip admired steel.As no doubt did Monsieur Belain, wearing all the lace he could muster, and with his garters dripping jewels of silken splendour from each knee.Monsieur Galante affected a more fitting black.But then, Monsieur Galante never wore anything else.And Hal Ashton? He stood by himself, at the foot of the grave.Of them all, saving perhaps Tom, he had been closest to Ralph Berwicke.They had lived next door to each other for several years, and had laughed together, when there had been anything to laugh at, and drunk together, when there had been anything to drink, and, to their discredit, despaired together whenever there had been the slightest reason to do so.Now, despite his promise to Tom, he suddenly looked the oldest man present.Tom closed his Bible, and nodded.The burial party withdrew their ropes, and picked up their spades.Tom remained standing at the head of the grave while the first shovelfuls of earth were thrown onto the silent body wrapped in its hammock.Then he moved forward, to stand in the midst of his people.'Ralph left a will,' he said.'Which he entrusted into my keeping.' Slowly he unrolled the parchment.‘It is very brief He says, to my oldest friend and faithful employer, Thomas Warner, gentleman, King's Lieutenant in the Caribee Isles, I leave my new hat, that it may shelter him from the tropical sun.All other of my effects that may be worth having I leave to my other old friend, Henry Ashton, Esquire.' He looked up.‘It is a good hat.And we have lost a faithful supporter.' He hesitated, staring into their faces, one to the other, slowly, hurrying only when he came to his wife and eldest son.'This day will long be remembered in the annals of our island,' he said.'Truly, it is not an event which any of us present may ever forget, nor would I have it so.It was a necessary event.The Sieur d'Esnambuc and myself received information that the Caribs, grown afraid of our too rapidly increasing numbers, had resolved to strike when we slept this coming night, and massacre us, saving perhaps only those they kept for the stake.We chose to anticipate that horror.We are white men and women, and we are Christians.We have a duty, to ourselves, our wives and families, to our descendants, to hold this land, and to preserve our portion in it.It will be said that we acted without honour.I will say to you that we acted wisely.There can be no honour in fighting savages.There is seldom much honour of any sort to be gained in war.I speak now as a soldier, and I have seen my share of bloodshed and suffering.The Sieur d'Esnambuc and myself could not risk the lives of a single one of you, for we are responsible for all of those lives.Thus we acted as we did.But I say this to you.A deed like ours today were indeed criminal, and wasted, and horrible, should we ever discard the fruits we seek.There must be no more enmity on this island, no more bloodshed.Let it be our claim that heat and old age are the only causes of death amongst us, as they were the causes of the death of my friend here.Let this colony grow, and let Frenchman and Englishman live in harmony, here.And let this island be the most fertile, as its inhabitants must be the most envied, of any in the world.Thus may we justify our actions for all eternity [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.'You stop them,' he muttered, and ran up the beach, away from the blood and the stench, and the pitiful helpless bodies.He reached the coolness and the shelter of the trees, and checked.Wapisiane knelt there, staring at the village, his face expressionless.Edward crouched beside him.'You cannot stay here,' he whispered.'You must get away, into the interior of the island.Tonight you must come back to the beach.I will have a canoe for you, and you will get away to Nevis.There are no Indians on Nevis, to our knowledge.' Wapisiane stared at the white man.'Can you not understand me?' Edward asked.‘I am sorry for what happened.Sorry.By Christ, there is a profound statement.I would not have had it so.They were afraid.But it is done, now.Nothing can make your uncle and his people come back to life.I would have warned them, but I was too late.Now you must think of your own life.You are the only survivor.They have kept some of the girls, but you are the only male.'Wapisiane's head remained still, but his eyes seemed to have spread, until his face seemed nothing but eyes.'Say you will take care,' Edward begged.'Say you will make your escape tonight.''Wapisiane take care.''Thank God for that,' Edward said."We have had our differences, Wapisiane.But I would remain your friend.Perhaps we shall meet again, one day.Until then, here is my hand.'Wapisiane looked down at the outstretched fingers.'Wapisiane take care,' he said.'Wapisiane live.Wapisiane return.War-nah.' he drew his finger across his throat.'Belain.' again the gesture.'Ber-wicke, Ash-ton, Hil-ton.' the finger moved to and fro.'Gal-ante, and women.Rebecca.Susan.' Now his hands came together, and then moved apart with hurried, brutal strength.Edward started to protest, and then thought better of it.'Aye,' he said.'You are entitled to be bitter, Wapisiane.Time is our best course.'Wapisiane stood up, looked down on the white man.'Edward,' he said.And once again the finger travelled across his throat, but this time very slowly.Then he was gone into the forest.The fire blazed over the Indian village.Additional dry wood had been brought from the forest, and the smoke from the funeral pyre billowed high into the air, up and ever up, for with the rising of the sun the breeze had dropped, and there was nothing to disperse the smoke.And so it rose, in a long column, hundreds of feet into the air, certainly visible from Nevis and Antigua and Montserrat, and perhaps even farther away than that, a signal of the catastrophe which had happened on Merwar's Hope.Farther down the beach, the white people prepared to bury the first of them to die on the island.They moved in silence, still burdened by the guilt of what they had clone.For how long, how many years, would they carry that weight around their necks?The grave had been dug by the Irish labourers, who now gathered in a whispering group by the houses, their habitual jollity quite forgotten.The Irish women were also grouped, gazing at their husbands with new eyes; they had not suspected that the fathers of their children would be men of blood.Rebecca stood by herself, dressed, at her husband's command, in her best gown, the one she had worn to the feast, not a week ago, beneath the broad-brimmed hat which she used to keep the sun from her complexion.It was a man's hat, and served several purposes.Today it kept the tears and the horror which vied for supremacy in her face from being revealed to the crowd.Sarah stood beside her, fingers clutching her mother's skirt.Both women shook, but this day it might easily have been emotion rather than the fever which was their habitual companion.Philip and Edward stood together, close by the grave, and in front of the assembled Frenchmen.Like their mother, the boys had put on what they could find in the way of decent clothing.Edward's shoulders had not been covered in months, and the material felt uncomfortable against his skin.He listened to his father reading the service, in slow and sonorous tones.But Father had spoken no service over Tegramond.He had hurried away from that funeral.He glanced at his brother.Philip had not been present at the massacre, and he watched his father with admiration.Father was a man of steel.And Philip admired steel.As no doubt did Monsieur Belain, wearing all the lace he could muster, and with his garters dripping jewels of silken splendour from each knee.Monsieur Galante affected a more fitting black.But then, Monsieur Galante never wore anything else.And Hal Ashton? He stood by himself, at the foot of the grave.Of them all, saving perhaps Tom, he had been closest to Ralph Berwicke.They had lived next door to each other for several years, and had laughed together, when there had been anything to laugh at, and drunk together, when there had been anything to drink, and, to their discredit, despaired together whenever there had been the slightest reason to do so.Now, despite his promise to Tom, he suddenly looked the oldest man present.Tom closed his Bible, and nodded.The burial party withdrew their ropes, and picked up their spades.Tom remained standing at the head of the grave while the first shovelfuls of earth were thrown onto the silent body wrapped in its hammock.Then he moved forward, to stand in the midst of his people.'Ralph left a will,' he said.'Which he entrusted into my keeping.' Slowly he unrolled the parchment.‘It is very brief He says, to my oldest friend and faithful employer, Thomas Warner, gentleman, King's Lieutenant in the Caribee Isles, I leave my new hat, that it may shelter him from the tropical sun.All other of my effects that may be worth having I leave to my other old friend, Henry Ashton, Esquire.' He looked up.‘It is a good hat.And we have lost a faithful supporter.' He hesitated, staring into their faces, one to the other, slowly, hurrying only when he came to his wife and eldest son.'This day will long be remembered in the annals of our island,' he said.'Truly, it is not an event which any of us present may ever forget, nor would I have it so.It was a necessary event.The Sieur d'Esnambuc and myself received information that the Caribs, grown afraid of our too rapidly increasing numbers, had resolved to strike when we slept this coming night, and massacre us, saving perhaps only those they kept for the stake.We chose to anticipate that horror.We are white men and women, and we are Christians.We have a duty, to ourselves, our wives and families, to our descendants, to hold this land, and to preserve our portion in it.It will be said that we acted without honour.I will say to you that we acted wisely.There can be no honour in fighting savages.There is seldom much honour of any sort to be gained in war.I speak now as a soldier, and I have seen my share of bloodshed and suffering.The Sieur d'Esnambuc and myself could not risk the lives of a single one of you, for we are responsible for all of those lives.Thus we acted as we did.But I say this to you.A deed like ours today were indeed criminal, and wasted, and horrible, should we ever discard the fruits we seek.There must be no more enmity on this island, no more bloodshed.Let it be our claim that heat and old age are the only causes of death amongst us, as they were the causes of the death of my friend here.Let this colony grow, and let Frenchman and Englishman live in harmony, here.And let this island be the most fertile, as its inhabitants must be the most envied, of any in the world.Thus may we justify our actions for all eternity [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]