Chapter 34
34
When I appeared, the men cried out, crossing themselves as though I were a witch.
“Don’t be afraid,” I said—but they did not understand.
I made a sign of welcome, spreading my arms with my palms up, but this alarmed the strangers even more. The one in the red cap called out in his language to those still on the boats.
I addressed them. “Good gentlemen, do not be frightened. I am of noble birth, but it has been my misfortune to live upon this isle alone.” I said all this in French, although I had heard them speak a different language. “Please.” I took one step.
In a flash, the man in the red cap drew his knife.
“I beg of you!” I cried. But he brandished his weapon so that I dared not step closer.
“I am only a poor Christian,” I said. And now I saw a look of recognition. “I am a Christian from France.”
When I said France, the men spoke amongst themselves, and the one in the red cap called to a burly fellow on the boat. This dark-haired man splashed through the shallows and approached me.
“Where?” he asked in French.
What joy to hear a word in my own tongue! Rapidly I began to speak, telling my full name, my parentage, and place of birth. But my translator only shook his head, repeating, “Christian.”
“Yes,” I told him. “And I have not seen another soul since last autumn. God is my witness; I have been entirely alone.”
“God, alone,” he said.
He caught just a few words as I spoke, yet I was most grateful and anxious to say more. I pressed my hands together as if to pray.
Now my burly translator spoke to the other men in their own language, and they looked at me with reverence, pointing to the cloth upon my head. It seemed they thought I was a nun—and, afraid to disabuse them, I dropped to my knees and began, Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with you. Then the men knelt with me and joined their voices because they knew the Latin words as well as I.
Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus… I prayed with the fishermen, as I had rarely done alone.
When we were done, I stood and asked my dark interpreter his name.
“Mikel,” he said.
“Where do you come from?” I asked.
He said, “Navarre.”
“Navarre!” I held out my hand and said, “This ring is the Queen’s gift.” For the signet ring had been the Queen’s gift to Claire. “See the letter M .” I showed the graved letter M for Marguerite, Queen of Navarre.
Mikel was astonished that I should wear a royal token. I, who appeared in rags. When he spoke to the men, they answered all at once with questions, but he did not have words to explain what they were saying.
“I see you are not French,” I said.
He answered, “Basque.” Haltingly, he said that he and his friends had sailed across the sea for fish, and I understood that cod was the treasure these men sought, dangerous though the venture was.
“It is a long journey,” I said.
But he pointed at me wonderingly, for he did not understand how I had come to live in wilderness. “Too long for you,” he said, and by this, he meant too far for women.
Then in words and gestures, I told him that a villain had captured and abandoned me upon the island, and here I came to live an eremite with God. I demonstrated what my life had been, pointing to the fish lying in the sun and miming how I cast my line and lit a fire to roast my catch. I showed the men my salt, drying on the rocks, and described the rookery nearby. “We might gather eggs,” I told Mikel. “I will take you.”
He shook his head because he would not leave his comrades. “Go,” he said, indicating that he would wait with them.
I hesitated. I could see he did not trust me entirely, and I feared while I was gone the company would sail away. But when I considered their catch lying on the rocks to dry, I knew that they must wait some days. Best to use the time for winning favor. “I will get the eggs for you,” I promised.
And so, I went home for Damienne’s basket and then to the rookery, where I collected as many eggs as I could carry. While the men worked, I gathered sticks and built a fire at the shore to roast the bounty. “Come,” I said, inviting the visitors to eat.
The men gathered and ate hungrily—and I promised more the next day, adding boldly, “I will shoot birds for you as well.”
They looked troubled when Mikel translated this, and the man in the red cap spoke decisively.
“No, that cannot be,” Mikel interpreted.
I had overstepped. How could I shoot when I had said I was a nun? Why should these men believe me? Their eyes were doubting, but knowing what it was to crave fresh meat, I hoped hunger would sway them.
“You may shoot as well,” I told Mikel. “I will show you where the birds are nesting, and you may kill as many as you like.”
He shook his head. “Our powder is ruined.”
“But I have a little left,” I said. “And you can bring another man with you.” I held up three fingers to show I had three working guns. “One arquebus for me and two for you. Come, and I will show you.” It was dangerous to reveal my home and offer weapons. As soon as I spoke, I worried I had been too eager—but I felt that I must trust these Basques if they were to trust me.
The men talked to one another and pointed upland where I said we might climb to retrieve my weapons. At last, the man in the red cap allowed Mikel and one other to accompany me. And this second fisherman was Ion.
I led the way to my cave while the men followed—and it was strange to see my island through their eyes. The path was rough, the brambles on it prickly, and while the sun beat down, there was no shade. I had often climbed this way, so I was quick, but the men clambered up with difficulty. When they reached the entrance to my home, the narrow crevice astonished them, and peering inside, they shook their heads.
“No!” said Mikel when I explained I had lived two years in this place.
But I proved myself a woman of my word. I entered the cave and returned with three arquebuses and flints and all the powder I had left.
We were ready to hunt, but I asked the men to wait another moment. Then I retrieved my cracked picture of the Virgin and set her up against the rocks to remind these men that I was a religious woman.
Immediately, Mikel and Ion knelt and bowed their heads while I closed my eyes. Silently, I pleaded, If it is your will, then bring me home and spare me winter. Save me.
Now I led the men to the cove, where we could see birds in their thousands. How bright they were. How beautiful their nesting places. My companions stood dazzled by this sight familiar to me. Eagerly they loaded and prepared to shoot, but I cautioned. “Wait. We should fire all at once to increase our chances.”
Mikel translated this for Ion, and then I counted. “One. Two. Three.”
Never was there such a noise upon the island. Three guns booming. Ten thousand birds flapping and screaming. In that moment, Mikel, Ion, and I rushed to collect three bodies.
Strange I must have seemed, striding into the melee. I did not think to pity these poor creatures as a pious woman should have done, nor did I hesitate to seize a wounded bird and slit its throat. I had lived so long upon the isle that I no longer knew how to disguise my hunger or display my tender heart.
With wonder, Mikel and Ion viewed me, and they kept a little distance as we carried off our prey. But when we returned, their fellows received us joyfully, and the men busied themselves cleaning birds. I built up my fire and bent branches for a spit. Then, while the fowl roasted, Mikel spoke to the man in the red cap. This man was his captain, and his name was Aznar. He was older than the rest and had no hair, so he wore his cap always. His face was lined, his features coarse, and he was short in stature yet immensely strong. Unloading his vessels, he lifted the heaviest barrels easily. Now he ordered Ion to bring four bottles of wine. The men drank from them directly, but I brought down my cup lest they think worse of me. Biscuit these men shared out as well. Although it was hard and plain, it seemed to me as good as cake. And so, we feasted until the stars came out. Then some men lay upon the rocks, and some waded out to sleep upon the boats.
When I saw this, I told Mikel that I must retreat to my cave, but before I left, I inquired how long the company would stay.
“Three days more,” he told me.
“And then?”
“To France.”
France! My heart said, Ask. Beg to come along. The men were merry, and I had helped provide the meal—but I considered my position, which was weak. While I attempted to win favor, I could not assume it.
For two more days, I hunted with these men and cooked for them, and prayed. Each night they camped on shore while I slept upland in my cave. Each morning when I woke, I watched them from above. On the third day, I saw them stacking and loading their salted cod. Then I knew that I must act.
Although the sun was hot, I dressed in Damienne’s gown and double petticoats and wrapped myself in Auguste’s cloak. Then from my pantry, I took coins, pearls, and my gold necklace and secured these in my pocket. In a cloth, I wrapped my book of psalms and Auguste’s New Testament. Finally, I took Damienne’s rosary and our picture of the Virgin. I prepared to leave with these few things.
I left my bottles, my tarnished looking glass, and skins. I left my tools, my axe, and whetstones for any who might come upon them. I left my ruined virginal and muskets, useless without powder, but I took my knife. Only one remembrance did I keep from my time alone upon the island. I hid the bear’s claw in my pocket with my jewels and coins.
Carrying these, I crept through the entrance of my cave and walked the short distance to my burial mounds. There, I touched Auguste’s grave, and Damienne’s, and, lastly, that of my infant son. Then quietly I made a vow to these three souls. “I do not deserve to leave. I have none of your virtues, for I am neither wise, nor good, nor innocent. But if men and ocean waves permit, I will work to honor you.” With these words, I took my few belongings to the shore.
—
The men saw me carrying my books and icon, and they made signs one to the other, even as they loaded their boats. Curious, they watched as I approached Aznar.
I set my possessions on the rocks and held out my picture of the Virgin.
Alarmed, the captain signaled for Mikel.
“What do you want?” Mikel said.
You know what I want, I thought, but I spoke quietly. “I wish to pray for you.”
Mikel seemed reassured and said, “Our thanks.”
I added, “And I wish to take this picture on the seas so that Our Lady will bless and protect you.”
When Mikel translated, I saw Aznar shake his head, even as his men gathered, half-pitying and half-suspecting. Before Mikel conveyed his captain’s response, I knew what it was. “We cannot take a woman.”
“If it is not the custom…” I began.
“It is impossible,” Mikel said.
He told me this, and inwardly I protested. No! You cannot leave me! But I spoke quietly. “I am no ordinary woman. I am not one who weeps and sighs. I am a woman who hunts. Not a lady who gives chase for sport but one who shoots to eat; one who fishes with a hook and line. I have survived the winter ice and outlasted the worst storms. The sea holds no terror for me, and I can work; I will help you on your voyage.”
Mikel was confounded. He turned to the others and spoke to them as best he could. Still, Aznar shook his head.
“We cannot take you on an open boat,” said Mikel.
Earnestly, I said, “You have seen where I live. I sleep on rocks and in a cave.”
“Not safe,” Mikel said.
I held up the Virgin. “She has protected me for two winters, and she will protect you.”
Mikel was impressed by my promise, and when he conveyed my message, the men lifted their hands to the Virgin’s image. Truly her picture seemed a miracle in that wild place. Waves crashed upon the rocks. Birds circled, plummeting for fish, while Our Lady gazed upon us with such delicacy.
“Convey her home, as well as me. Pity me,” I told Mikel, “but honor Christ’s mother.”
Aznar spoke again, and Mikel said regretfully, “We cannot.”
Now I gave the Virgin to Mikel to hold, and from my pocket, I drew a shining piece of gold. Offering this coin to Aznar, I said, “Do me the honor of accepting this reward as well.”
These words needed no translation. Aznar examined the coin closely. He showed it to the others, and all could see it was a pure unclipped French écu. “One gold piece now,” I said. “One more when we arrive. I will take up little space. These holy books are all that I possess.”
Aznar looked at me. He held the coin up, glinting in the sun. Then he gave orders. Ion carried my books, Mikel took the Virgin, and a man called Julen helped me through the shallows to the closer fishing boat.
I did not wait for Julen to hand me in but climbed eagerly aboard. The boat was rough; the deck wet where I sat on a crate of fish, but I felt I had ascended to a throne. I did not speak; I scarcely breathed as the men weighed anchor and raised sail. Every moment I was afraid of some disaster or a change of heart.
But no accident befell us, and the captain did not reconsider. The winds were brisk as our boats sailed out in choppy waves. We rose and fell, and my face was wet with salt spray as I watched my isle, my prison, my secret kingdom, slip away.
The granite shore receded; the cliffs and rookery grew smaller, and all the places I had walked, all the brambles and rock pools, were swallowed up by sky and ocean. Then my eyes did fill with tears, despite my claim that I was unlike other women, and I bent my head and wiped my face, afraid the fishermen would see. I wept for joy because I could escape, and for sorrow I must leave alone.