He drew the arrow from his belt and held it up.
The crowd pressed forward, hanging on his words.
“Had my first arrow,” said Tell slowly, “pierced my child and not the apple, this would have pierced you, my lord. Had I missed with my first shot, be sure, my lord, that my second would have found its mark.”
A murmur of approval broke from the crowd as Tell thrust the arrow back into the quiver and faced the Governor with folded arms and burning eyes. Gessler turned white with fury.
“Seize that man!” he shouted.
[Illustration: PLATE XIII]
“My lord, bethink you,” whispered Rudolph der Harras; “you promised him his life. Tell, fly!” he cried.
Tell did not move.
“Seize that man and bind him,” roared Gessler once more. “If he resists, cut him down.”
“I shall not resist,” said Tell scornfully. “I should have known the folly of trusting to a tyrant to keep his word. My death will at least show my countrymen the worth of their Governor’s promises.”
“Not so,” replied Gessler; “no man shall say I ever broke my knightly word. I promised you your life, and I will give you your life. But you are a dangerous man, Tell, and against such must I guard myself. You have told me your murderous purpose. I must look to it that that purpose is not fulfilled. Life I promised you, and life I will give you. But of freedom I said nothing. In my castle at Kussnacht there are dungeons where no ray of sun or moon ever falls. Chained hand and foot in one of these, you will hardly aim your arrows at me. It is rash, Tell, to threaten those who have power over you. Soldiers, bind him and lead him to my ship. I will follow, and will myself conduct him to Kussnacht.”
The soldiers tied Tell’s hands. He offered no resistance. And amidst the groans of the people he was led away to the shore of the lake, where Gessler’s ship lay at anchor.
[Illustration: PLATE XIV]
“Our last chance is gone,” said the people to one another. “Where shall we look now for a leader?”
CHAPTER XIV
The castle of Kussnacht lay on the opposite side of the lake, a mighty mass of stone reared on a mightier crag rising sheer out of the waves, which boiled and foamed about its foot. Steep rocks of fantastic shape hemmed it in, and many were the vessels which perished on these, driven thither by the frequent storms that swept over the lake.
Gessler and his men, Tell in their midst, bound and unarmed, embarked early in the afternoon at Fluelen, which was the name of the harbour where the Governor’s ship had been moored. Fluelen was about two miles from Kussnacht.
When they had arrived at the vessel they went on board, and Tell was placed at the bottom of the hold. It was pitch dark, and rats scampered over his body as he lay. The ropes were cast off, the sails filled, and the ship made her way across the lake, aided by a favouring breeze.
A large number of the Swiss people had followed Tell and his captors to the harbour, and stood gazing sorrowfully after the ship as it diminished in the distance. There had been whispers of an attempted rescue, but nobody had dared to begin it, and the whispers had led to nothing. Few of the people carried weapons, and the soldiers were clad in armour, and each bore a long pike or a sharp sword. As Arnold of Sewa would have said if he had been present, what the people wanted was prudence. It was useless to attack men so thoroughly able to defend themselves.
Therefore the people looked on and groaned, but did nothing.
For some time the ship sped easily on her way and through a calm sea. Tell lay below, listening to the trampling of the sailors overhead, as they ran about the deck, and gave up all hope of ever seeing his home and his friends again.
But soon he began to notice that the ship was rolling and pitching more than it had been doing at first, and it was not long before he realized that a very violent storm had begun. Storms sprung up very suddenly on the lake, and made it unsafe for boats that attempted to cross it. Often the sea was quite unruffled at the beginning of the crossing, and was rough enough at the end to wreck the largest ship.
Tell welcomed the storm. He had no wish to live if life meant years of imprisonment in a dark dungeon of Castle Kussnacht. Drowning would be a pleasant fate compared with that. He lay at the bottom of the ship, hoping that the next wave would dash them on to a rock and send them to the bottom of the lake. The tossing became worse and worse.
Upon the deck Gessler was standing beside the helmsman, and gazing anxiously across the waters at the rocks that fringed the narrow entrance to the bay a few hundred yards to the east of Castle Kussnacht. This bay was the only spot for miles along the shore at which it was possible to land safely. For miles on either side the coast was studded with great rocks, which would have dashed a ship to pieces in a moment. It was to this bay that Gessler wished to direct the ship. But the helmsman told him that he could not make sure of finding the entrance, so great was the cloud of spray which covered it. A mistake would mean shipwreck.
“My lord,” said the helmsman, “I have neither strength nor skill to guide the helm. I do not know which way to turn.”
“What are we to do?” asked Rudolph der Harras, who was standing near.
The helmsman hesitated. Then he spoke, eyeing the Governor uneasily.
“Tell could steer us through,” he said, “if your lordship would but give him the helm.”
Gessler started.
“Tell!” he muttered. “Tell!”
The ship drew nearer to the rocks.
“Bring him here,” said Gessler.
