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diff --git a/1860-0.txt b/1860-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f23b20f --- /dev/null +++ b/1860-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,27704 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Westward Ho!, by Charles Kingsley + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Westward Ho! + +Author: Charles Kingsley + +Release Date: May 13, 2006 [EBook #1860] +Last Updated: March 15, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WESTWARD HO! *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +WESTWARD HO! + + +by Charles Kingsley + + + +TO + +THE RAJAH SIR JAMES BROOKE, K.C.B. + +AND + +GEORGE AUGUSTUS SELWYN, D.D. + +BISHOP OF NEW ZEALAND + + +THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED + + +By one who (unknown to them) has no other method of expressing his +admiration and reverence for their characters. + +That type of English virtue, at once manful and godly, practical and +enthusiastic, prudent and self-sacrificing, which he has tried to depict +in these pages, they have exhibited in a form even purer and more +heroic than that in which he has drest it, and than that in which it was +exhibited by the worthies whom Elizabeth, without distinction of rank or +age, gathered round her in the ever glorious wars of her great reign. + +C. K. + +FEBRUARY, 1855. + + + +CONTENTS + + +INTRODUCTION + +I. HOW MR. OXENHAM SAW THE WHITE BIRD + +II. HOW AMYAS CAME HOME THE FIRST TIME + +III. OF TWO GENTLEMEN OF WALES, AND HOW THEY HUNTED WITH THE HOUNDS, AND + YET RAN WITH THE DEER + +IV. THE TWO WAYS OF BEING CROST IN LOVE + +V. CLOVELLY COURT IN THE OLDEN TIME + +VI. THE COMBES OF THE FAR WEST + +VII. THE TRUE AND TRAGICAL HISTORY OF MR. JOHN OXENHAM OF PLYMOUTH + +VIII. HOW THE NOBLE BROTHERHOOD OF THE ROSE WAS FOUNDED + +IX. HOW AMYAS KEPT HIS CHRISTMAS DAY + +X. HOW THE MAYOR OF BIDEFORD BAITED HIS HOOK WITH HIS OWN FLESH + +XI. HOW EUSTACE LEIGH MET THE POPE'S LEGATE + +XII. HOW BIDEFORD BRIDGE DINED AT ANNERY HOUSE + +XIII. HOW THE GOLDEN HIND CAME HOME AGAIN + +XIV. HOW SALVATION YEO SLEW THE KING OF THE GUBBINGS + +XV. HOW MR. JOHN BRIMBLECOMBE UNDERSTOOD THE NATURE OF AN OATH + +XVI. THE MOST CHIVALROUS ADVENTURE OF THE GOOD SHIP ROSE + +XVII. HOW THEY CAME TO BARBADOS, AND FOUND NO MEN THEREIN + +XVIII. HOW THEY TOOK THE PEARLS AT MARGARITA + +XIX. WHAT BEFELL AT LA GUAYRA + +XX. SPANISH BLOODHOUNDS AND ENGLISH MASTIFFS + +XXI. HOW THEY TOOK THE COMMUNION UNDER THE TREE AT HIGUEROTE + +XXII. THE INQUISITION IN THE INDIES + +XXIII. THE BANKS OF THE META + +XXIV. HOW AMYAS WAS TEMPTED OF THE DEVIL + +XXV. HOW THEY TOOK THE GOLD-TRAIN + +XXVI. HOW THEY TOOK THE GREAT GALLEON + +XXVII. HOW SALVATION YEO FOUND HIS LITTLE MAID AGAIN + +XXVIII.HOW AMYAS CAME HOME THE THIRD TIME + +XXIX. HOW THE VIRGINIA FLEET WAS STOPPED BY THE QUEEN'S COMMAND + +XXX. HOW THE ADMIRAL JOHN HAWKINS TESTIFIED AGAINST CROAKERS + +XXXI. THE GREAT ARMADA + +XXXII. HOW AMYAS THREW HIS SWORD INTO THE SEA + +XXXIII. HOW AMYAS LET THE APPLE FALL + + + + +WESTWARD HO! + + +CHAPTER I + + +HOW MR. OXENHAM SAW THE WHITE BIRD + + “The hollow oak our palace is, + Our heritage the sea.” + +All who have travelled through the delicious scenery of North Devon must +needs know the little white town of Bideford, which slopes upwards from +its broad tide-river paved with yellow sands, and many-arched old bridge +where salmon wait for autumn floods, toward the pleasant upland on the +west. Above the town the hills close in, cushioned with deep oak woods, +through which juts here and there a crag of fern-fringed slate; below +they lower, and open more and more in softly rounded knolls, and fertile +squares of red and green, till they sink into the wide expanse of hazy +flats, rich salt-marshes, and rolling sand-hills, where Torridge joins +her sister Taw, and both together flow quietly toward the broad surges +of the bar, and the everlasting thunder of the long Atlantic swell. +Pleasantly the old town stands there, beneath its soft Italian sky, +fanned day and night by the fresh ocean breeze, which forbids alike the +keen winter frosts, and the fierce thunder heats of the midland; and +pleasantly it has stood there for now, perhaps, eight hundred years +since the first Grenville, cousin of the Conqueror, returning from the +conquest of South Wales, drew round him trusty Saxon serfs, and free +Norse rovers with their golden curls, and dark Silurian Britons from +the Swansea shore, and all the mingled blood which still gives to the +seaward folk of the next county their strength and intellect, and, even +in these levelling days, their peculiar beauty of face and form. + +But at the time whereof I write, Bideford was not merely a pleasant +country town, whose quay was haunted by a few coasting craft. It was +one of the chief ports of England; it furnished seven ships to fight the +Armada: even more than a century afterwards, say the chroniclers, “it +sent more vessels to the northern trade than any port in England, saving +(strange juxtaposition!) London and Topsham,” and was the centre of a +local civilization and enterprise, small perhaps compared with the +vast efforts of the present day: but who dare despise the day of small +things, if it has proved to be the dawn of mighty ones? And it is to the +sea-life and labor of Bideford, and Dartmouth, and Topsham, and Plymouth +(then a petty place), and many another little western town, that England +owes the foundation of her naval and commercial glory. It was the men +of Devon, the Drakes and Hawkins', Gilberts and Raleighs, Grenvilles and +Oxenhams, and a host more of “forgotten worthies,” whom we shall learn +one day to honor as they deserve, to whom she owes her commerce, her +colonies, her very existence. For had they not first crippled, by their +West Indian raids, the ill-gotten resources of the Spaniard, and then +crushed his last huge effort in Britain's Salamis, the glorious fight of +1588, what had we been by now but a popish appanage of a world-tyranny +as cruel as heathen Rome itself, and far more devilish? + +It is in memory of these men, their voyages and their battles, their +faith and their valor, their heroic lives and no less heroic deaths, +that I write this book; and if now and then I shall seem to warm into +a style somewhat too stilted and pompous, let me be excused for my +subject's sake, fit rather to have been sung than said, and to have +proclaimed to all true English hearts, not as a novel but as an epic +(which some man may yet gird himself to write), the same great message +which the songs of Troy, and the Persian wars, and the trophies of +Marathon and Salamis, spoke to the hearts of all true Greeks of old. + + +One bright summer's afternoon, in the year of grace 1575, a tall and +fair boy came lingering along Bideford quay, in his scholar's gown, +with satchel and slate in hand, watching wistfully the shipping and the +sailors, till, just after he had passed the bottom of the High Street, +he came opposite to one of the many taverns which looked out upon the +river. In the open bay window sat merchants and gentlemen, discoursing +over their afternoon's draught of sack; and outside the door was +gathered a group of sailors, listening earnestly to some one who stood +in the midst. The boy, all alive for any sea-news, must needs go up +to them, and take his place among the sailor-lads who were peeping and +whispering under the elbows of the men; and so came in for the following +speech, delivered in a loud bold voice, with a strong Devonshire accent, +and a fair sprinkling of oaths. + +“If you don't believe me, go and see, or stay here and grow all over +blue mould. I tell you, as I am a gentleman, I saw it with these eyes, +and so did Salvation Yeo there, through a window in the lower room; and +we measured the heap, as I am a christened man, seventy foot long, ten +foot broad, and twelve foot high, of silver bars, and each bar between +a thirty and forty pound weight. And says Captain Drake: 'There, my lads +of Devon, I've brought you to the mouth of the world's treasure-house, +and it's your own fault now if you don't sweep it out as empty as a +stock-fish.'” + +“Why didn't you bring some of they home, then, Mr. Oxenham?” + +“Why weren't you there to help to carry them? We would have brought +'em away, safe enough, and young Drake and I had broke the door abroad +already, but Captain Drake goes off in a dead faint; and when we came +to look, he had a wound in his leg you might have laid three fingers in, +and his boots were full of blood, and had been for an hour or more; but +the heart of him was that, that he never knew it till he dropped, +and then his brother and I got him away to the boats, he kicking and +struggling, and bidding us let him go on with the fight, though every +step he took in the sand was in a pool of blood; and so we got off. And +tell me, ye sons of shotten herrings, wasn't it worth more to save him +than the dirty silver? for silver we can get again, brave boys: there's +more fish in the sea than ever came out of it, and more silver in Nombre +de Dios than would pave all the streets in the west country: but of such +captains as Franky Drake, Heaven never makes but one at a time; and if +we lose him, good-bye to England's luck, say I, and who don't agree, let +him choose his weapons, and I'm his man.” + +He who delivered this harangue was a tall and sturdy personage, with a +florid black-bearded face, and bold restless dark eyes, who leaned, with +crossed legs and arms akimbo, against the wall of the house; and seemed +in the eyes of the schoolboy a very magnifico, some prince or duke at +least. He was dressed (contrary to all sumptuary laws of the time) in +a suit of crimson velvet, a little the worse, perhaps, for wear; by his +side were a long Spanish rapier and a brace of daggers, gaudy enough +about the hilts; his fingers sparkled with rings; he had two or three +gold chains about his neck, and large earrings in his ears, behind one +of which a red rose was stuck jauntily enough among the glossy black +curls; on his head was a broad velvet Spanish hat, in which instead of a +feather was fastened with a great gold clasp a whole Quezal bird, whose +gorgeous plumage of fretted golden green shone like one entire precious +stone. As he finished his speech, he took off the said hat, and looking +at the bird in it-- + +“Look ye, my lads, did you ever see such a fowl as that before? That's +the bird which the old Indian kings of Mexico let no one wear but their +own selves; and therefore I wear it,--I, John Oxenham of South Tawton, +for a sign to all brave lads of Devon, that as the Spaniards are the +masters of the Indians, we're the masters of the Spaniards:” and he +replaced his hat. + +A murmur of applause followed: but one hinted that he “doubted the +Spaniards were too many for them.” + +“Too many? How many men did we take Nombre de Dios with? Seventy-three +were we, and no more when we sailed out of Plymouth Sound; and before we +saw the Spanish Main, half were gastados, used up, as the Dons say, with +the scurvy; and in Port Pheasant Captain Rawse of Cowes fell in with us, +and that gave us some thirty hands more; and with that handful, my lads, +only fifty-three in all, we picked the lock of the new world! And whom +did we lose but our trumpeter, who stood braying like an ass in +the middle of the square, instead of taking care of his neck like a +Christian? I tell you, those Spaniards are rank cowards, as all bullies +are. They pray to a woman, the idolatrous rascals! and no wonder they +fight like women.” + +“You'm right, captain,” sang out a tall gaunt fellow who stood close to +him; “one westcountry-man can fight two easterlings, and an easterling +can beat three Dons any day. Eh! my lads of Devon? + + “For O! it's the herrings and the good brown beef, + And the cider and the cream so white; + O! they are the making of the jolly Devon lads, + For to play, and eke to fight.” + +“Come,” said Oxenham, “come along! Who lists? who lists? who'll make his +fortune? + + “Oh, who will join, jolly mariners all? + And who will join, says he, O! + To fill his pockets with the good red goold, + By sailing on the sea, O!” + +“Who'll list?” cried the gaunt man again; “now's your time! We've got +forty men to Plymouth now, ready to sail the minute we get back, and we +want a dozen out of you Bideford men, and just a boy or two, and then +we'm off and away, and make our fortunes, or go to heaven. + + “Our bodies in the sea so deep, + Our souls in heaven to rest! + Where valiant seamen, one and all, + Hereafter shall be blest!” + +“Now,” said Oxenham, “you won't let the Plymouth men say that the +Bideford men daren't follow them? North Devon against South, it is. +Who'll join? who'll join? It is but a step of a way, after all, and +sailing as smooth as a duck-pond as soon as you're past Cape Finisterre. +I'll run a Clovelly herring-boat there and back for a wager of twenty +pound, and never ship a bucketful all the way. Who'll join? Don't think +you're buying a pig in a poke. I know the road, and Salvation Yeo, here, +too, who was the gunner's mate, as well as I do the narrow seas, and +better. You ask him to show you the chart of it, now, and see if he +don't tell you over the ruttier as well as Drake himself.” + +On which the gaunt man pulled from under his arm a great white buffalo +horn covered with rough etchings of land and sea, and held it up to the +admiring ring. + +“See here, boys all, and behold the pictur of the place, dra'ed out +so natural as ever was life. I got mun from a Portingal, down to the +Azores; and he'd pricked mun out, and pricked mun out, wheresoever he'd +sailed, and whatsoever he'd seen. Take mun in your hands now, Simon +Evans, take mun in your hands; look mun over, and I'll warrant you'll +know the way in five minutes so well as ever a shark in the seas.” + +And the horn was passed from hand to hand; while Oxenham, who saw that +his hearers were becoming moved, called through the open window for +a great tankard of sack, and passed that from hand to hand, after the +horn. + +The school-boy, who had been devouring with eyes and ears all which +passed, and had contrived by this time to edge himself into the inner +ring, now stood face to face with the hero of the emerald crest, and got +as many peeps as he could at the wonder. But when he saw the sailors, +one after another, having turned it over a while, come forward and offer +to join Mr. Oxenham, his soul burned within him for a nearer view of +that wondrous horn, as magical in its effects as that of Tristrem, or +the enchanter's in Ariosto; and when the group had somewhat broken up, +and Oxenham was going into the tavern with his recruits, he asked boldly +for a nearer sight of the marvel, which was granted at once. + +And now to his astonished gaze displayed themselves cities and harbors, +dragons and elephants, whales which fought with sharks, plate ships +of Spain, islands with apes and palm-trees, each with its name +over-written, and here and there, “Here is gold;” and again, “Much gold +and silver;” inserted most probably, as the words were in English, by +the hands of Mr. Oxenham himself. Lingeringly and longingly the boy +turned it round and round, and thought the owner of it more fortunate +than Khan or Kaiser. Oh, if he could but possess that horn, what needed +he on earth beside to make him blest! + +“I say, will you sell this?” + +“Yea, marry, or my own soul, if I can get the worth of it.” + +“I want the horn,--I don't want your soul; it's somewhat of a stale +sole, for aught I know; and there are plenty of fresh ones in the bay.” + +And therewith, after much fumbling, he pulled out a tester (the only one +he had), and asked if that would buy it? + +“That! no, nor twenty of them.” + +The boy thought over what a good knight-errant would do in such case, +and then answered, “Tell you what: I'll fight you for it.” + +“Thank 'ee, sir! + +“Break the jackanapes's head for him, Yeo,” said Oxenham. + +“Call me jackanapes again, and I break yours, sir.” And the boy lifted +his fist fiercely. + +Oxenham looked at him a minute smilingly. “Tut! tut! my man, hit one of +your own size, if you will, and spare little folk like me!” + +“If I have a boy's age, sir, I have a man's fist. I shall be fifteen +years old this month, and know how to answer any one who insults me.” + +“Fifteen, my young cockerel? you look liker twenty,” said Oxenham, with +an admiring glance at the lad's broad limbs, keen blue eyes, curling +golden locks, and round honest face. “Fifteen? If I had half-a-dozen +such lads as you, I would make knights of them before I died. Eh, Yeo?” + +“He'll do,” said Yeo; “he will make a brave gamecock in a year or +two, if he dares ruffle up so early at a tough old hen-master like the +captain.” + +At which there was a general laugh, in which Oxenham joined as loudly as +any, and then bade the lad tell him why he was so keen after the horn. + +“Because,” said he, looking up boldly, “I want to go to sea. I want to +see the Indies. I want to fight the Spaniards. Though I am a gentleman's +son, I'd a deal liever be a cabin-boy on board your ship.” And the lad, +having hurried out his say fiercely enough, dropped his head again. + +“And you shall,” cried Oxenham, with a great oath; “and take a galloon, +and dine off carbonadoed Dons. Whose son are you, my gallant fellow?” + +“Mr. Leigh's, of Burrough Court.” + +“Bless his soul! I know him as well as I do the Eddystone, and his +kitchen too. Who sups with him to-night?” + +“Sir Richard Grenville.” + +“Dick Grenville? I did not know he was in town. Go home and tell your +father John Oxenham will come and keep him company. There, off with you! +I'll make all straight with the good gentleman, and you shall have your +venture with me; and as for the horn, let him have the horn, Yeo, and +I'll give you a noble for it.” + +“Not a penny, noble captain. If young master will take a poor mariner's +gift, there it is, for the sake of his love to the calling, and +Heaven send him luck therein.” And the good fellow, with the impulsive +generosity of a true sailor, thrust the horn into the boy's hands, and +walked away to escape thanks. + +“And now,” quoth Oxenham, “my merry men all, make up your minds what +mannered men you be minded to be before you take your bounties. I want +none of your rascally lurching longshore vermin, who get five pounds +out of this captain, and ten out of that, and let him sail without them +after all, while they are stowed away under women's mufflers, and +in tavern cellars. If any man is of that humor, he had better to cut +himself up, and salt himself down in a barrel for pork, before he meets +me again; for by this light, let me catch him, be it seven years hence, +and if I do not cut his throat upon the streets, it's a pity! But if any +man will be true brother to me, true brother to him I'll be, come wreck +or prize, storm or calm, salt water or fresh, victuals or none, share +and fare alike; and here's my hand upon it, for every man and all! and +so-- + + “Westward ho! with a rumbelow, + And hurra for the Spanish Main, O!” + +After which oration Mr. Oxenham swaggered into the tavern, followed by +his new men; and the boy took his way homewards, nursing his precious +horn, trembling between hope and fear, and blushing with maidenly +shame, and a half-sense of wrong-doing at having revealed suddenly to a +stranger the darling wish which he had hidden from his father and mother +ever since he was ten years old. + +Now this young gentleman, Amyas Leigh, though come of as good blood as +any in Devon, and having lived all his life in what we should even +now call the very best society, and being (on account of the valor, +courtesy, and truly noble qualities which he showed forth in his most +eventful life) chosen by me as the hero and centre of this story, +was not, saving for his good looks, by any means what would be called +now-a-days an “interesting” youth, still less a “highly educated” one; +for, with the exception of a little Latin, which had been driven into +him by repeated blows, as if it had been a nail, he knew no books +whatsoever, save his Bible, his Prayer-book, the old “Mort d'Arthur” of +Caxton's edition, which lay in the great bay window in the hall, and the +translation of “Las Casas' History of the West Indies,” which lay beside +it, lately done into English under the title of “The Cruelties of the +Spaniards.” He devoutly believed in fairies, whom he called pixies; and +held that they changed babies, and made the mushroom rings on the downs +to dance in. When he had warts or burns, he went to the white witch +at Northam to charm them away; he thought that the sun moved round the +earth, and that the moon had some kindred with a Cheshire cheese. +He held that the swallows slept all the winter at the bottom of the +horse-pond; talked, like Raleigh, Grenville, and other low persons, +with a broad Devonshire accent; and was in many other respects so very +ignorant a youth, that any pert monitor in a national school might have +had a hearty laugh at him. Nevertheless, this ignorant young savage, +vacant of the glorious gains of the nineteenth century, children's +literature and science made easy, and, worst of all, of those improved +views of English history now current among our railway essayists, which +consist in believing all persons, male and female, before the year 1688, +and nearly all after it, to have been either hypocrites or fools, had +learnt certain things which he would hardly have been taught just now +in any school in England; for his training had been that of the old +Persians, “to speak the truth and to draw the bow,” both of which savage +virtues he had acquired to perfection, as well as the equally savage +ones of enduring pain cheerfully, and of believing it to be the finest +thing in the world to be a gentleman; by which word he had been taught +to understand the careful habit of causing needless pain to no human +being, poor or rich, and of taking pride in giving up his own pleasure +for the sake of those who were weaker than himself. Moreover, having +been entrusted for the last year with the breaking of a colt, and the +care of a cast of young hawks which his father had received from Lundy +Isle, he had been profiting much, by the means of those coarse and +frivolous amusements, in perseverance, thoughtfulness, and the habit +of keeping his temper; and though he had never had a single “object +lesson,” or been taught to “use his intellectual powers,” he knew the +names and ways of every bird, and fish, and fly, and could read, as +cunningly as the oldest sailor, the meaning of every drift of cloud +which crossed the heavens. Lastly, he had been for some time past, on +account of his extraordinary size and strength, undisputed cock of the +school, and the most terrible fighter among all Bideford boys; in which +brutal habit he took much delight, and contrived, strange as it may +seem, to extract from it good, not only for himself but for others, +doing justice among his school-fellows with a heavy hand, and succoring +the oppressed and afflicted; so that he was the terror of all the +sailor-lads, and the pride and stay of all the town's boys and girls, +and hardly considered that he had done his duty in his calling if he +went home without beating a big lad for bullying a little one. For the +rest, he never thought about thinking, or felt about feeling; and had +no ambition whatsoever beyond pleasing his father and mother, getting by +honest means the maximum of “red quarrenders” and mazard cherries, +and going to sea when he was big enough. Neither was he what would be +now-a-days called by many a pious child; for though he said his Creed +and Lord's Prayer night and morning, and went to the service at the +church every forenoon, and read the day's Psalms with his mother every +evening, and had learnt from her and from his father (as he proved well +in after life) that it was infinitely noble to do right and infinitely +base to do wrong, yet (the age of children's religious books not having +yet dawned on the world) he knew nothing more of theology, or of his +own soul, than is contained in the Church Catechism. It is a question, +however, on the whole, whether, though grossly ignorant (according to +our modern notions) in science and religion, he was altogether untrained +in manhood, virtue, and godliness; and whether the barbaric narrowness +of his information was not somewhat counterbalanced both in him and in +the rest of his generation by the depth, and breadth, and healthiness of +his education. + +So let us watch him up the hill as he goes hugging his horn, to tell all +that has passed to his mother, from whom he had never hidden anything +in his life, save only that sea-fever; and that only because he foreknew +that it would give her pain; and because, moreover, being a prudent and +sensible lad, he knew that he was not yet old enough to go, and that, as +he expressed it to her that afternoon, “there was no use hollaing till +he was out of the wood.” + +So he goes up between the rich lane-banks, heavy with drooping ferns and +honeysuckle; out upon the windy down toward the old Court, nestled +amid its ring of wind-clipt oaks; through the gray gateway into the +homeclose; and then he pauses a moment to look around; first at the wide +bay to the westward, with its southern wall of purple cliffs; then at +the dim Isle of Lundy far away at sea; then at the cliffs and downs of +Morte and Braunton, right in front of him; then at the vast yellow sheet +of rolling sand-hill, and green alluvial plain dotted with red cattle, +at his feet, through which the silver estuary winds onward toward the +sea. Beneath him, on his right, the Torridge, like a land-locked lake, +sleeps broad and bright between the old park of Tapeley and the charmed +rock of the Hubbastone, where, seven hundred years ago, the Norse rovers +landed to lay siege to Kenwith Castle, a mile away on his left hand; and +not three fields away, are the old stones of “The Bloody Corner,” + where the retreating Danes, cut off from their ships, made their last +fruitless stand against the Saxon sheriff and the valiant men of Devon. +Within that charmed rock, so Torridge boatmen tell, sleeps now the old +Norse Viking in his leaden coffin, with all his fairy treasure and his +crown of gold; and as the boy looks at the spot, he fancies, and almost +hopes, that the day may come when he shall have to do his duty against +the invader as boldly as the men of Devon did then. And past him, far +below, upon the soft southeastern breeze, the stately ships go sliding +out to sea. When shall he sail in them, and see the wonders of the deep? +And as he stands there with beating heart and kindling eye, the cool +breeze whistling through his long fair curls, he is a symbol, though he +knows it not, of brave young England longing to wing its way out of its +island prison, to discover and to traffic, to colonize and to civilize, +until no wind can sweep the earth which does not bear the echoes of an +English voice. Patience, young Amyas! Thou too shalt forth, and westward +ho, beyond thy wildest dreams; and see brave sights, and do brave deeds, +which no man has since the foundation of the world. Thou too shalt face +invaders stronger and more cruel far than Dane or Norman, and bear thy +part in that great Titan strife before the renown of which the name of +Salamis shall fade away! + +Mr. Oxenham came that evening to supper as he had promised: but as +people supped in those days in much the same manner as they do now, we +may drop the thread of the story for a few hours, and take it up again +after supper is over. + +“Come now, Dick Grenville, do thou talk the good man round, and I'll +warrant myself to talk round the good wife.” + +The personage whom Oxenham addressed thus familiarly answered by a +somewhat sarcastic smile, and, “Mr. Oxenham gives Dick Grenville” (with +just enough emphasis on the “Mr.” and the “Dick,” to hint that a liberty +had been taken with him) “overmuch credit with the men. Mr. Oxenham's +credit with fair ladies, none can doubt. Friend Leigh, is Heard's great +ship home yet from the Straits?” + +The speaker, known well in those days as Sir Richard Grenville, +Granville, Greenvil, Greenfield, with two or three other variations, was +one of those truly heroical personages whom Providence, fitting always +the men to their age and their work, had sent upon the earth whereof it +takes right good care, not in England only, but in Spain and Italy, in +Germany and the Netherlands, and wherever, in short, great men and great +deeds were needed to lift the mediaeval world into the modern. + +And, among all the heroic faces which the painters of that age have +preserved, none, perhaps, hardly excepting Shakespeare's or Spenser's, +Alva's or Farina's, is more heroic than that of Richard Grenville, as it +stands in Prince's “Worthies of Devon;” of a Spanish type, perhaps +(or more truly speaking, a Cornish), rather than an English, with just +enough of the British element in it to give delicacy to its massiveness. +The forehead and whole brain are of extraordinary loftiness, and +perfectly upright; the nose long, aquiline, and delicately pointed; +the mouth fringed with a short silky beard, small and ripe, yet firm +as granite, with just pout enough of the lower lip to give hint of that +capacity of noble indignation which lay hid under its usual courtly calm +and sweetness; if there be a defect in the face, it is that the eyes are +somewhat small, and close together, and the eyebrows, though delicately +arched, and, without a trace of peevishness, too closely pressed +down upon them, the complexion is dark, the figure tall and graceful; +altogether the likeness of a wise and gallant gentleman, lovely to all +good men, awful to all bad men; in whose presence none dare say or do a +mean or a ribald thing; whom brave men left, feeling themselves nerved +to do their duty better, while cowards slipped away, as bats and +owls before the sun. So he lived and moved, whether in the Court of +Elizabeth, giving his counsel among the wisest; or in the streets of +Bideford, capped alike by squire and merchant, shopkeeper and sailor; or +riding along the moorland roads between his houses of Stow and Bideford, +while every woman ran out to her door to look at the great Sir Richard, +the pride of North Devon; or, sitting there in the low mullioned window +at Burrough, with his cup of malmsey before him, and the lute to which +he had just been singing laid across his knees, while the red western +sun streamed in upon his high, bland forehead, and soft curling locks; +ever the same steadfast, God-fearing, chivalrous man, conscious (as far +as a soul so healthy could be conscious) of the pride of beauty, and +strength, and valor, and wisdom, and a race and name which claimed +direct descent from the grandfather of the Conqueror, and was tracked +down the centuries by valiant deeds and noble benefits to his native +shire, himself the noblest of his race. Men said that he was proud; but +he could not look round him without having something to be proud of; +that he was stern and harsh to his sailors: but it was only when he saw +in them any taint of cowardice or falsehood; that he was subject, at +moments, to such fearful fits of rage, that he had been seen to snatch +the glasses from the table, grind them to pieces in his teeth, and +swallow them: but that was only when his indignation had been aroused by +some tale of cruelty or oppression, and, above all, by those West Indian +devilries of the Spaniards, whom he regarded (and in those days rightly +enough) as the enemies of God and man. Of this last fact Oxenham was +well aware, and therefore felt somewhat puzzled and nettled, when, after +having asked Mr. Leigh's leave to take young Amyas with him and set +forth in glowing colors the purpose of his voyage, he found Sir Richard +utterly unwilling to help him with his suit. + +“Heyday, Sir Richard! You are not surely gone over to the side of those +canting fellows (Spanish Jesuits in disguise, every one of them, they +are), who pretended to turn up their noses at Franky Drake, as a pirate, +and be hanged to them?” + +“My friend Oxenham,” answered he, in the sententious and measured style +of the day, “I have always held, as you should know by this, that Mr. +Drake's booty, as well as my good friend Captain Hawkins's, is lawful +prize, as being taken from the Spaniard, who is not only hostis humani +generis, but has no right to the same, having robbed it violently, by +torture and extreme iniquity, from the poor Indian, whom God avenge, as +He surely will.” + +“Amen,” said Mrs. Leigh. + +“I say Amen, too,” quoth Oxenham, “especially if it please Him to avenge +them by English hands.” + +“And I also,” went on Sir Richard; “for the rightful owners of the said +goods being either miserably dead, or incapable, by reason of their +servitude, of ever recovering any share thereof, the treasure, falsely +called Spanish, cannot be better bestowed than in building up the state +of England against them, our natural enemies; and thereby, in building +up the weal of the Reformed Churches throughout the world, and the +liberties of all nations, against a tyranny more foul and rapacious than +that of Nero or Caligula; which, if it be not the cause of God, I, for +one, know not what God's cause is!” And, as he warmed in his speech, his +eyes flashed very fire. + +“Hark now!” said Oxenham, “who can speak more boldly than he? and yet he +will not help this lad to so noble an adventure.” + +“You have asked his father and mother; what is their answer?” + +“Mine is this,” said Mr. Leigh; “if it be God's will that my boy should +become, hereafter, such a mariner as Sir Richard Grenville, let him go, +and God be with him; but let him first bide here at home and be +trained, if God give me grace, to become such a gentleman as Sir Richard +Grenville.” + +Sir Richard bowed low, and Mrs. Leigh catching up the last word-- + +“There, Mr. Oxenham, you cannot gainsay that, unless you will be +discourteous to his worship. And for me--though it be a weak woman's +reason, yet it is a mother's: he is my only child. His elder brother is +far away. God only knows whether I shall see him again; and what are all +reports of his virtues and his learning to me, compared to that sweet +presence which I daily miss? Ah! Mr. Oxenham, my beautiful Joseph is +gone; and though he be lord of Pharaoh's household, yet he is far away +in Egypt; and you will take Benjamm also! Ah! Mr. Oxenham, you have no +child, or you would not ask for mine!” + +“And how do you know that, my sweet madam!” said the adventurer, turning +first deadly pale, and then glowing red. Her last words had touched him +to the quick in some unexpected place; and rising, he courteously laid +her hand to his lips, and said--“I say no more. Farewell, sweet madam, +and God send all men such wives as you.” + +“And all wives,” said she, smiling, “such husbands as mine.” + +“Nay, I will not say that,” answered he, with a half sneer--and then, +“Farewell, friend Leigh--farewell, gallant Dick Grenville. God send I +see thee Lord High Admiral when I come home. And yet, why should I come +home? Will you pray for poor Jack, gentles?” + +“Tut, tut, man! good words,” said Leigh; “let us drink to our merry +meeting before you go.” And rising, and putting the tankard of malmsey +to his lips, he passed it to Sir Richard, who rose, and saying, “To the +fortune of a bold mariner and a gallant gentleman,” drank, and put the +cup into Oxenham's hand. + +The adventurer's face was flushed, and his eye wild. Whether from the +liquor he had drunk during the day, or whether from Mrs. Leigh's last +speech, he had not been himself for a few minutes. He lifted the cup, +and was in act to pledge them, when he suddenly dropped it on the table, +and pointed, staring and trembling, up and down, and round the room, as +if following some fluttering object. + +“There! Do you see it? The bird!--the bird with the white breast!” + +Each looked at the other; but Leigh, who was a quick-witted man and an +old courtier, forced a laugh instantly, and cried--“Nonsense, brave Jack +Oxenham! Leave white birds for men who will show the white feather. Mrs. +Leigh waits to pledge you.” + +Oxenham recovered himself in a moment, pledged them all round, drinking +deep and fiercely; and after hearty farewells, departed, never hinting +again at his strange exclamation. + +After he was gone, and while Leigh was attending him to the door, Mrs. +Leigh and Grenville kept a few minutes' dead silence. At last--“God help +him!” said she. + +“Amen!” said Grenville, “for he never needed it more. But, indeed, +madam, I put no faith in such omens.” + +“But, Sir Richard, that bird has been seen for generations before the +death of any of his family. I know those who were at South Tawton when +his mother died, and his brother also; and they both saw it. God help +him! for, after all, he is a proper man.” + +“So many a lady has thought before now, Mrs. Leigh, and well for him if +they had not. But, indeed, I make no account of omens. When God is ready +for each man, then he must go; and when can he go better?” + +“But,” said Mr. Leigh, who entered, “I have seen, and especially when +I was in Italy, omens and prophecies before now beget their own +fulfilment, by driving men into recklessness, and making them run +headlong upon that very ruin which, as they fancied, was running upon +them.” + +“And which,” said Sir Richard, “they might have avoided, if, instead of +trusting in I know not what dumb and dark destiny, they had trusted in +the living God, by faith in whom men may remove mountains, and quench +the fire, and put to flight the armies of the alien. I too know, and +know not how I know, that I shall never die in my bed.” + +“God forfend!” cried Mrs. Leigh. + +“And why, fair madam, if I die doing my duty to my God and my queen? The +thought never moves me: nay, to tell the truth, I pray often enough that +I may be spared the miseries of imbecile old age, and that end which +the old Northmen rightly called 'a cow's death' rather than a man's. But +enough of this. Mr. Leigh, you have done wisely to-night. Poor Oxenham +does not go on his voyage with a single eye. I have talked about him +with Drake and Hawkins; and I guess why Mrs. Leigh touched him so home +when she told him that he had no child.” + +“Has he one, then, in the West Indies?” cried the good lady. + +“God knows; and God grant we may not hear of shame and sorrow fallen +upon an ancient and honorable house of Devon. My brother Stukely is woe +enough to North Devon for this generation.” + +“Poor braggadocio!” said Mr. Leigh; “and yet not altogether that too, +for he can fight at least.” + +“So can every mastiff and boar, much more an Englishman. And now come +hither to me, my adventurous godson, and don't look in such doleful +dumps. I hear you have broken all the sailor-boys' heads already.” + +“Nearly all,” said young Amyas, with due modesty.. “But am I not to go +to sea?” + +“All things in their time, my boy, and God forbid that either I or your +worthy parents should keep you from that noble calling which is the +safeguard of this England and her queen. But you do not wish to live and +die the master of a trawler?” + +“I should like to be a brave adventurer, like Mr. Oxenham.” + +“God grant you become a braver man than he! for, as I think, to be bold +against the enemy is common to the brutes; but the prerogative of a man +is to be bold against himself.” + +“How, sir?” + +“To conquer our own fancies, Amyas, and our own lusts, and our ambition, +in the sacred name of duty; this it is to be truly brave, and truly +strong; for he who cannot rule himself, how can he rule his crew or his +fortunes? Come, now, I will make you a promise. If you will bide quietly +at home, and learn from your father and mother all which befits a +gentleman and a Christian, as well as a seaman, the day shall come when +you shall sail with Richard Grenville himself, or with better men than +he, on a nobler errand than gold-hunting on the Spanish Main.” + +“O my boy, my boy!” said Mrs. Leigh, “hear what the good Sir Richard +promises you. Many an earl's son would be glad to be in your place.” + +“And many an earl's son will be glad to be in his place a score years +hence, if he will but learn what I know you two can teach him. And now, +Amyas, my lad, I will tell you for a warning the history of that Sir +Thomas Stukely of whom I spoke just now, and who was, as all men know, +a gallant and courtly knight, of an ancient and worshipful family in +Ilfracombe, well practised in the wars, and well beloved at first by our +incomparable queen, the friend of all true virtue, as I trust she will +be of yours some day; who wanted but one step to greatness, and that +was this, that in his hurry to rule all the world, he forgot to rule +himself. At first, he wasted his estate in show and luxury, always +intending to be famous, and destroying his own fame all the while by +his vainglory and haste. Then, to retrieve his losses, he hit upon the +peopling of Florida, which thou and I will see done some day, by God's +blessing; for I and some good friends of mine have an errand there as +well as he. But he did not go about it as a loyal man, to advance the +honor of his queen, but his own honor only, dreaming that he too should +be a king; and was not ashamed to tell her majesty that he had rather be +sovereign of a molehill than the highest subject of an emperor.” + +“They say,” said Mr. Leigh, “that he told her plainly he should be a +prince before he died, and that she gave him one of her pretty quips in +return.” + +“I don't know that her majesty had the best of it. A fool is many times +too strong for a wise man, by virtue of his thick hide. For when she +said that she hoped she should hear from him in his new principality, +'Yes, sooth,' says he, graciously enough. 'And in what style?' asks she. +'To our dear sister,' says Stukely: to which her clemency had nothing to +reply, but turned away, as Mr. Burleigh told me, laughing.” + +“Alas for him!” said gentle Mrs. Leigh. “Such self-conceit--and Heaven +knows we have the root of it in ourselves also--is the very daughter of +self-will, and of that loud crying out about I, and me, and mine, which +is the very bird-call for all devils, and the broad road which leads to +death.” + +“It will lead him to his,” said Sir Richard; “God grant it be not upon +Tower-hill! for since that Florida plot, and after that his hopes of +Irish preferment came to naught, he who could not help himself by fair +means has taken to foul ones, and gone over to Italy to the Pope, whose +infallibility has not been proof against Stukely's wit; for he was soon +his Holiness's closet counsellor, and, they say, his bosom friend; and +made him give credit to his boasts that, with three thousand soldiers he +would beat the English out of Ireland, and make the Pope's son king of +it.” + +“Ay, but,” said Mr. Leigh, “I suppose the Italians have the same fetch +now as they had when I was there, to explain such ugly cases; namely, +that the Pope is infallible only in doctrine, and quoad Pope; while +quoad hominem, he is even as others, or indeed, in general, a deal +worse, so that the office, and not the man, may be glorified thereby. +But where is Stukely now?” + +“At Rome when last I heard of him, ruffling it up and down the Vatican +as Baron Ross, Viscount Murrough, Earl Wexford, Marquis Leinster, and +a title or two more, which have cost the Pope little, seeing that +they never were his to give; and plotting, they say, some hare-brained +expedition against Ireland by the help of the Spanish king, which must +end in nothing but his shame and ruin. And now, my sweet hosts, I must +call for serving-boy and lantern, and home to my bed in Bideford.” + +And so Amyas Leigh went back to school, and Mr. Oxenham went his way to +Plymouth again, and sailed for the Spanish Main. + + + +CHAPTER II + +HOW AMYAS CAME HOME THE FIRST TIME + + “Si taceant homines, facient te sidera notum, + Sol nescit comitis immemor esse sui.” + + Old Epigram on Drake. + +Five years are past and gone. It is nine of the clock on a still, bright +November morning; but the bells of Bideford church are still ringing for +the daily service two hours after the usual time; and instead of going +soberly according to wont, cannot help breaking forth every five minutes +into a jocund peal, and tumbling head over heels in ecstasies of joy. +Bideford streets are a very flower-garden of all the colors, swarming +with seamen and burghers, and burghers' wives and daughters, all +in their holiday attire. Garlands are hung across the streets, and +tapestries from every window. The ships in the pool are dressed in all +their flags, and give tumultuous vent to their feelings by peals of +ordnance of every size. Every stable is crammed with horses; and +Sir Richard Grenville's house is like a very tavern, with eating +and drinking, and unsaddling, and running to and fro of grooms and +serving-men. Along the little churchyard, packed full with women, +streams all the gentle blood of North Devon,--tall and stately men, and +fair ladies, worthy of the days when the gentry of England were by due +right the leaders of the people, by personal prowess and beauty, as well +as by intellect and education. And first, there is my lady Countess of +Bath, whom Sir Richard Grenville is escorting, cap in hand (for her good +Earl Bourchier is in London with the queen); and there are Bassets +from beautiful Umberleigh, and Carys from more beautiful Clovelly, and +Fortescues of Wear, and Fortescues of Buckland, and Fortescues from all +quarters, and Coles from Slade, and Stukelys from Affton, and St. Legers +from Annery, and Coffins from Portledge, and even Coplestones from +Eggesford, thirty miles away: and last, but not least (for almost all +stop to give them place), Sir John Chichester of Ralegh, followed +in single file, after the good old patriarchal fashion, by his eight +daughters, and three of his five famous sons (one, to avenge his +murdered brother, is fighting valiantly in Ireland, hereafter to rule +there wisely also, as Lord Deputy and Baron of Belfast); and he meets +at the gate his cousin of Arlington, and behind him a train of four +daughters and nineteen sons, the last of whom has not yet passed the +town-hall, while the first is at the Lychgate, who, laughing, make way +for the elder though shorter branch of that most fruitful tree; and so +on into the church, where all are placed according to their degrees, or +at least as near as may be, not without a few sour looks, and shovings, +and whisperings, from one high-born matron and another; till the +churchwardens and sidesmen, who never had before so goodly a company to +arrange, have bustled themselves hot, and red, and frantic, and end by +imploring abjectly the help of the great Sir Richard himself to tell +them who everybody is, and which is the elder branch, and which is the +younger, and who carries eight quarterings in their arms, and who only +four, and so prevent their setting at deadly feud half the fine +ladies of North Devon; for the old men are all safe packed away in the +corporation pews, and the young ones care only to get a place whence +they may eye the ladies. And at last there is a silence, and a looking +toward the door, and then distant music, flutes and hautboys, drums and +trumpets, which come braying, and screaming, and thundering merrily +up to the very church doors, and then cease; and the churchwardens +and sidesmen bustle down to the entrance, rods in hand, and there is a +general whisper and rustle, not without glad tears and blessings from +many a woman, and from some men also, as the wonder of the day enters, +and the rector begins, not the morning service, but the good old +thanksgiving after a victory at sea. + +And what is it which has thus sent old Bideford wild with that “goodly +joy and pious mirth,” of which we now only retain traditions in +our translation of the Psalms? Why are all eyes fixed, with greedy +admiration, on those four weather-beaten mariners, decked out with knots +and ribbons by loving hands; and yet more on that gigantic figure who +walks before them, a beardless boy, and yet with the frame and stature +of a Hercules, towering, like Saul of old, a head and shoulders above +all the congregation, with his golden locks flowing down over his +shoulders? And why, as the five go instinctively up to the altar, and +there fall on their knees before the rails, are all eyes turned to the +pew where Mrs. Leigh of Burrough has hid her face between her hands, +and her hood rustles and shakes to her joyful sobs? Because there was +fellow-feeling of old in merry England, in county and in town; and +these are Devon men, and men of Bideford, whose names are Amyas Leigh of +Burrough, John Staveley, Michael Heard, and Jonas Marshall of Bideford, +and Thomas Braund of Clovelly: and they, the first of all English +mariners, have sailed round the world with Francis Drake, and are come +hither to give God thanks. + +It is a long story. To explain how it happened we must go back for a +page or two, almost to the point from whence we started in the last +chapter. + +For somewhat more than a twelvemonth after Mr. Oxenham's departure, +young Amyas had gone on quietly enough, according to promise, with the +exception of certain occasional outbursts of fierceness common to all +young male animals, and especially to boys of any strength of character. +His scholarship, indeed, progressed no better than before; but his home +education went on healthily enough; and he was fast becoming, young as +he was, a right good archer, and rider, and swordsman (after the old +school of buckler practice), when his father, having gone down on +business to the Exeter Assizes, caught (as was too common in those days) +the gaol-fever from the prisoners; sickened in the very court; and died +within a week. + +And now Mrs. Leigh was left to God and her own soul, with this young +lion-cub in leash, to tame and train for this life and the life to +come. She had loved her husband fervently and holily. He had been often +peevish, often melancholy; for he was a disappointed man, with an estate +impoverished by his father's folly, and his own youthful ambition, which +had led him up to Court, and made him waste his heart and his purse in +following a vain shadow. He was one of those men, moreover, who possess +almost every gift except the gift of the power to use them; and though +a scholar, a courtier, and a soldier, he had found himself, when he was +past forty, without settled employment or aim in life, by reason of +a certain shyness, pride, or delicate honor (call it which you will), +which had always kept him from playing a winning game in that very world +after whose prizes he hankered to the last, and on which he revenged +himself by continual grumbling. At last, by his good luck, he met with +a fair young Miss Foljambe, of Derbyshire, then about Queen Elizabeth's +Court, who was as tired as he of the sins of the world, though she had +seen less of them; and the two contrived to please each other so well, +that though the queen grumbled a little, as usual, at the lady for +marrying, and at the gentleman for adoring any one but her royal self, +they got leave to vanish from the little Babylon at Whitehall, and +settle in peace at Burrough. In her he found a treasure, and he knew +what he had found. + +Mrs. Leigh was, and had been from her youth, one of those noble old +English churchwomen, without superstition, and without severity, who +are among the fairest features of that heroic time. There was a certain +melancholy about her, nevertheless; for the recollections of her +childhood carried her back to times when it was an awful thing to be a +Protestant. She could remember among them, five-and-twenty years ago, +the burning of poor blind Joan Waste at Derby, and of Mistress Joyce +Lewis, too, like herself, a lady born; and sometimes even now, in her +nightly dreams, rang in her ears her mother's bitter cries to God, +either to spare her that fiery torment, or to give her strength to bear +it, as she whom she loved had borne it before her. For her mother, who +was of a good family in Yorkshire, had been one of Queen Catherine's +bedchamber women, and the bosom friend and disciple of Anne Askew. And +she had sat in Smithfield, with blood curdled by horror, to see the +hapless Court beauty, a month before the paragon of Henry's Court, +carried in a chair (so crippled was she by the rack) to her fiery doom +at the stake, beside her fellow-courtier, Mr. Lascelles, while the very +heavens seemed to the shuddering mob around to speak their wrath and +grief in solemn thunder peals, and heavy drops which hissed upon the +crackling pile. + +Therefore a sadness hung upon her all her life, and deepened in the days +of Queen Mary, when, as a notorious Protestant and heretic, she had had +to hide for her life among the hills and caverns of the Peak, and was +only saved, by the love which her husband's tenants bore her, and by his +bold declaration that, good Catholic as he was, he would run through +the body any constable, justice, or priest, yea, bishop or cardinal, who +dared to serve the queen's warrant upon his wife. + +So she escaped: but, as I said, a sadness hung upon her all her life; +and the skirt of that dark mantle fell upon the young girl who had been +the partner of her wanderings and hidings among the lonely hills; and +who, after she was married, gave herself utterly up to God. + +And yet in giving herself to God, Mrs. Leigh gave herself to her +husband, her children, and the poor of Northam Town, and was none the +less welcome to the Grenvilles, and Fortescues, and Chichesters, and +all the gentle families round, who honored her husband's talents, and +enjoyed his wit. She accustomed herself to austerities, which often +called forth the kindly rebukes of her husband; and yet she did so +without one superstitious thought of appeasing the fancied wrath of God, +or of giving Him pleasure (base thought) by any pain of hers; for her +spirit had been trained in the freest and loftiest doctrines of Luther's +school; and that little mystic “Alt-Deutsch Theologie” (to which the +great Reformer said that he owed more than to any book, save the Bible, +and St. Augustine) was her counsellor and comforter by day and night. + +And now, at little past forty, she was left a widow: lovely still +in face and figure; and still more lovely from the divine calm which +brooded, like the dove of peace and the Holy Spirit of God (which indeed +it was), over every look, and word, and gesture; a sweetness which had +been ripened by storm, as well as by sunshine; which this world had +not given, and could not take away. No wonder that Sir Richard and Lady +Grenville loved her; no wonder that her children worshipped her; no +wonder that the young Amyas, when the first burst of grief was over, and +he knew again where he stood, felt that a new life had begun for him; +that his mother was no more to think and act for him only, but that he +must think and act for his mother. And so it was, that on the very day +after his father's funeral, when school-hours were over, instead of +coming straight home, he walked boldly into Sir Richard Grenville's +house, and asked to see his godfather. + +“You must be my father now, sir,” said he, firmly. + +And Sir Richard looked at the boy's broad strong face, and swore a great +and holy oath, like Glasgerion's, “by oak, and ash, and thorn,” that +he would be a father to him, and a brother to his mother, for Christ's +sake. And Lady Grenville took the boy by the hand, and walked home +with him to Burrough; and there the two fair women fell on each other's +necks, and wept together; the one for the loss which had been, the +other, as by a prophetic instinct, for the like loss which was to come +to her also. For the sweet St. Leger knew well that her husband's fiery +spirit would never leave his body on a peaceful bed; but that death (as +he prayed almost nightly that it might) would find him sword in +hand, upon the field of duty and of fame. And there those two vowed +everlasting sisterhood, and kept their vow; and after that all things +went on at Burrough as before; and Amyas rode, and shot, and boxed, and +wandered on the quay at Sir Richard's side; for Mrs. Leigh was too +wise a woman to alter one tittle of the training which her husband had +thought best for his younger boy. It was enough that her elder son had +of his own accord taken to that form of life in which she in her secret +heart would fain have moulded both her children. For Frank, God's +wedding gift to that pure love of hers, had won himself honor at home +and abroad; first at the school at Bideford; then at Exeter College, +where he had become a friend of Sir Philip Sidney's, and many another +young man of rank and promise; and next, in the summer of 1572, on his +way to the University of Heidelberg, he had gone to Paris, with (luckily +for him) letters of recommendation to Walsingham, at the English +Embassy: by which letters he not only fell in a second time with Philip +Sidney, but saved his own life (as Sidney did his) in the Massacre of +St. Bartholomew's Day. At Heidelberg he had stayed two years, winning +fresh honor from all who knew him, and resisting all Sidney's entreaties +to follow him into Italy. For, scorning to be a burden to his parents, +he had become at Heidelberg tutor to two young German princes, whom, +after living with them at their father's house for a year or more, he at +last, to his own great delight, took with him down to Padua, “to +perfect them,” as he wrote home, “according to his insufficiency, in all +princely studies.” Sidney was now returned to England; but Frank found +friends enough without him, such letters of recommendation and diplomas +did he carry from I know not how many princes, magnificos, and learned +doctors, who had fallen in love with the learning, modesty, and virtue +of the fair young Englishman. And ere Frank returned to Germany he had +satiated his soul with all the wonders of that wondrous land. He had +talked over the art of sonneteering with Tasso, the art of history +with Sarpi; he had listened, between awe and incredulity, to the daring +theories of Galileo; he had taken his pupils to Venice, that their +portraits might be painted by Paul Veronese; he had seen the palaces of +Palladio, and the merchant princes on the Rialto, and the argosies of +Ragusa, and all the wonders of that meeting-point of east and west; he +had watched Tintoretto's mighty hand “hurling tempestuous glories o'er +the scene;” and even, by dint of private intercession in high places, +had been admitted to that sacred room where, with long silver beard and +undimmed eye, amid a pantheon of his own creations, the ancient Titian, +patriarch of art, still lingered upon earth, and told old tales of the +Bellinis, and Raffaelle, and Michael Angelo, and the building of St. +Peter's, and the fire at Venice, and the sack of Rome, and of kings and +warriors, statesmen and poets, long since gone to their account, and +showed the sacred brush which Francis the First had stooped to pick up +for him. And (license forbidden to Sidney by his friend Languet) he had +been to Rome, and seen (much to the scandal of good Protestants at home) +that “right good fellow,” as Sidney calls him, who had not yet eaten +himself to death, the Pope for the time being. And he had seen the +frescos of the Vatican, and heard Palestrina preside as chapel-master +over the performance of his own music beneath the dome of St. Peter's, +and fallen half in love with those luscious strains, till he was +awakened from his dream by the recollection that beneath that same dome +had gone up thanksgivings to the God of heaven for those blood-stained +streets, and shrieking women, and heaps of insulted corpses, which he +had beheld in Paris on the night of St. Bartholomew. At last, a few +months before his father died, he had taken back his pupils to their +home in Germany, from whence he was dismissed, as he wrote, with rich +gifts; and then Mrs. Leigh's heart beat high, at the thought that the +wanderer would return: but, alas! within a month after his father's +death, came a long letter from Frank, describing the Alps, and the +valleys of the Waldenses (with whose Barbes he had had much talk about +the late horrible persecutions), and setting forth how at Padua he had +made the acquaintance of that illustrious scholar and light of the age, +Stephanus Parmenius (commonly called from his native place, Budaeus), +who had visited Geneva with him, and heard the disputations of their +most learned doctors, which both he and Budaeus disliked for their hard +judgments both of God and man, as much as they admired them for their +subtlety, being themselves, as became Italian students, Platonists of +the school of Ficinus and Picus Mirandolensis. So wrote Master Frank, +in a long sententious letter, full of Latin quotations: but the letter +never reached the eyes of him for whose delight it had been penned: and +the widow had to weep over it alone, and to weep more bitterly than ever +at the conclusion, in which, with many excuses, Frank said that he had, +at the special entreaty of the said Budaeus, set out with him down the +Danube stream to Buda, that he might, before finishing his travels, +make experience of that learning for which the Hungarians were famous +throughout Europe. And after that, though he wrote again and again to +the father whom he fancied living, no letter in return reached him from +home for nearly two years; till, fearing some mishap, he hurried back to +England, to find his mother a widow, and his brother Amyas gone to the +South Seas with Captain Drake of Plymouth. And yet, even then, after +years of absence, he was not allowed to remain at home. For Sir Richard, +to whom idleness was a thing horrible and unrighteous, would have him up +and doing again before six months were over, and sent him off to Court +to Lord Hunsdon. + +There, being as delicately beautiful as his brother was huge and strong, +he had speedily, by Carew's interest and that of Sidney and his Uncle +Leicester, found entrance into some office in the queen's household; and +he was now basking in the full sunshine of Court favor, and fair ladies' +eyes, and all the chivalries and euphuisms of Gloriana's fairyland, and +the fast friendship of that bright meteor Sidney, who had returned with +honor in 1577, from the delicate mission on behalf of the German and +Belgian Protestants, on which he had been sent to the Court of Vienna, +under color of condoling with the new Emperor Rodolph on his father's +death. Frank found him when he himself came to Court in 1579 as lovely +and loving as ever; and, at the early age of twenty-five, acknowledged +as one of the most remarkable men of Europe, the patron of all men of +letters, the counsellor of warriors and statesmen, and the confidant and +advocate of William of Orange, Languet, Plessis du Mornay, and all the +Protestant leaders on the Continent; and found, moreover, that the son +of the poor Devon squire was as welcome as ever to the friendship of +nature's and fortune's most favored, yet most unspoilt, minion. + +Poor Mrs. Leigh, as one who had long since learned to have no self, +and to live not only for her children but in them, submitted without a +murmur, and only said, smiling, to her stern friend--“You took away my +mastiff-pup, and now you must needs have my fair greyhound also.” + +“Would you have your fair greyhound, dear lady, grow up a tall and +true Cotswold dog, that can pull down a stag of ten, or one of those +smooth-skinned poppets which the Florence ladies lead about with a ring +of bells round its neck, and a flannel farthingale over its loins?” + +Mrs. Leigh submitted; and was rewarded after a few months by a letter, +sent through Sir Richard, from none other than Gloriana herself, in +which she thanked her for “the loan of that most delicate and flawless +crystal, the soul of her excellent son,” with more praises of him than I +have room to insert, and finished by exalting the poor mother above the +famed Cornelia; “for those sons, whom she called her jewels, she +only showed, yet kept them to herself: but you, madam, having two as +precious, I doubt not, as were ever that Roman dame's, have, beyond her +courage, lent them both to your country and to your queen, who therein +holds herself indebted to you for that which, if God give her grace, she +will repay as becomes both her and you.” Which epistle the sweet mother +bedewed with holy tears, and laid by in the cedar-box which held her +household gods, by the side of Frank's innumerable diplomas and letters +of recommendation, the Latin whereof she was always spelling over +(although she understood not a word of it), in hopes of finding, here +and there, that precious excellentissimus Noster Franciscus Leighius +Anglus, which was all in all to the mother's heart. + +But why did Amyas go to the South Seas? Amyas went to the South Seas for +two causes, each of which has, before now, sent many a lad to far worse +places: first, because of an old schoolmaster; secondly, because of a +young beauty. I will take them in order and explain. + +Vindex Brimblecombe, whilom servitor of Exeter College, Oxford (commonly +called Sir Vindex, after the fashion of the times), was, in those days, +master of the grammar-school of Bideford. He was, at root, a godly and +kind-hearted pedant enough; but, like most schoolmasters in the old +flogging days, had his heart pretty well hardened by long, baneful +license to inflict pain at will on those weaker than himself; a power +healthful enough for the victim (for, doubtless, flogging is the best of +all punishments, being not only the shortest, but also a mere bodily and +animal, and not, like most of our new-fangled “humane” punishments, a +spiritual and fiendish torture), but for the executioner pretty certain +to eradicate, from all but the noblest spirits, every trace of chivalry +and tenderness for the weak, as well, often, as all self-control and +command of temper. Be that as it may, old Sir Vindex had heart enough +to feel that it was now his duty to take especial care of the fatherless +boy to whom he tried to teach his qui, quae, quod: but the only outcome +of that new sense of responsibility was a rapid increase in the number +of floggings, which rose from about two a week to one per diem, not +without consequences to the pedagogue himself. + +For all this while, Amyas had never for a moment lost sight of his +darling desire for a sea-life; and when he could not wander on the quay +and stare at the shipping, or go down to the pebble-ridge at Northam, +and there sit, devouring, with hungry eyes, the great expanse of ocean, +which seemed to woo him outward into boundless space, he used to console +himself, in school-hours, by drawing ships and imaginary charts upon his +slate, instead of minding his “humanities.” + +Now it befell, upon an afternoon, that he was very busy at a map, or +bird's-eye view of an island, whereon was a great castle, and at the +gate thereof a dragon, terrible to see; while in the foreground came +that which was meant for a gallant ship, with a great flag aloft, but +which, by reason of the forest of lances with which it was crowded, +looked much more like a porcupine carrying a sign-post; and, at the +roots of those lances, many little round o's, whereby was signified +the heads of Amyas and his schoolfellows, who were about to slay that +dragon, and rescue the beautiful princess who dwelt in that enchanted +tower. To behold which marvel of art, all the other boys at the same +desk must needs club their heads together, and with the more security, +because Sir Vindex, as was his custom after dinner, was lying back in +his chair, and slept the sleep of the just. + +But when Amyas, by special instigation of the evil spirit who haunts +successful artists, proceeded further to introduce, heedless of +perspective, a rock, on which stood the lively portraiture of Sir +Vindex--nose, spectacles, gown, and all; and in his hand a brandished +rod, while out of his mouth a label shrieked after the runaways, +“You come back!” while a similar label replied from the gallant bark, +“Good-bye, master!” the shoving and tittering rose to such a pitch that +Cerberus awoke, and demanded sternly what the noise was about. To which, +of course, there was no answer. + +“You, of course, Leigh! Come up, sir, and show me your exercitation.” + +Now of Amyas's exercitation not a word was written; and, moreover, +he was in the very article of putting the last touches to Mr. +Brimblecombe's portrait. Whereon, to the astonishment of all hearers, he +made answer-- + +“All in good time, sir!” and went on drawing. + +“In good time, sir! Insolent, veni et vapula!” + +But Amyas went on drawing. + +“Come hither, sirrah, or I'll flay you alive!” + +“Wait a bit!” answered Amyas. + +The old gentleman jumped up, ferula in hand, and darted across the +school, and saw himself upon the fatal slate. + +“Proh flagitium! what have we here, villain?” and clutching at his +victim, he raised the cane. Whereupon, with a serene and cheerful +countenance, up rose the mighty form of Amyas Leigh, a head and +shoulders above his tormentor, and that slate descended on the bald +coxcomb of Sir Vindex Brimblecombe, with so shrewd a blow that slate and +pate cracked at the same instant, and the poor pedagogue dropped to the +floor, and lay for dead. + +After which Amyas arose, and walked out of the school, and so quietly +home; and having taken counsel with himself, went to his mother, and +said, “Please, mother, I've broken schoolmaster's head.” + +“Broken his head, thou wicked boy!” shrieked the poor widow; “what didst +do that for?” + +“I can't tell,” said Amyas, penitently; “I couldn't help it. It looked +so smooth, and bald, and round, and--you know?” + +“I know? Oh, wicked boy! thou hast given place to the devil; and now, +perhaps, thou hast killed him.” + +“Killed the devil?” asked Amyas, hopefully but doubtfully. + +“No, killed the schoolmaster, sirrah! Is he dead?” + +“I don't think he's dead; his coxcomb sounded too hard for that. But had +not I better go and tell Sir Richard?” + +The poor mother could hardly help laughing, in spite of her terror, +at Amyas's perfect coolness (which was not in the least meant for +insolence), and being at her wits' end, sent him, as usual, to his +godfather. + +Amyas rehearsed his story again, with pretty nearly the same +exclamations, to which he gave pretty nearly the same answers; and +then--“What was he going to do to you, then, sirrah?” + +“Flog me, because I could not write my exercise, and so drew a picture +of him instead.” + +“What! art afraid of being flogged?” + +“Not a bit; besides, I'm too much accustomed to it; but I was busy, and +he was in such a desperate hurry; and, oh, sir, if you had but seen his +bald head, you would have broken it yourself!” + +Now Sir Richard had, twenty years ago, in like place, and very much +in like manner, broken the head of Vindex Brimblecombe's father, +schoolmaster in his day, and therefore had a precedent to direct him; +and he answered--“Amyas, sirrah! those who cannot obey will never be fit +to rule. If thou canst not keep discipline now, thou wilt never make a +company or a crew keep it when thou art grown. Dost mind that, sirrah?” + +“Yes,” said Amyas. + +“Then go back to school this moment, sir, and be flogged.” + +“Very well,” said Amyas, considering that he had got off very cheaply; +while Sir Richard, as soon as he was out of the room, lay back in his +chair, and laughed till he cried again. + +So Amyas went back, and said that he was come to be flogged; whereon the +old schoolmaster, whose pate had been plastered meanwhile, wept tears of +joy over the returning prodigal, and then gave him such a switching as +he did not forget for eight-and-forty hours. + +But that evening Sir Richard sent for old Vindex, who entered, +trembling, cap in hand; and having primed him with a cup of sack, +said--“Well, Mr. Schoolmaster! My godson has been somewhat too much for +you to-day. There are a couple of nobles to pay the doctor.” + +“O Sir Richard, gratias tibi et Domino! but the boy hits shrewdly +hard. Nevertheless I have repaid him in inverse kind, and set him an +imposition, to learn me one of Phaedrus his fables, Sir Richard, if you +do not think it too much.” + +“Which, then? The one about the man who brought up a lion's cub, and was +eaten by him in play at last?” + +“Ah, Sir Richard! you have always a merry wit. But, indeed, the boy is a +brave boy, and a quick boy, Sir Richard, but more forgetful than Lethe; +and--sapienti loquor--it were well if he were away, for I shall never +see him again without my head aching. Moreover, he put my son Jack upon +the fire last Wednesday, as you would put a football, though he is a +year older, your worship, because, he said, he looked so like a roasting +pig, Sir Richard.” + +“Alas, poor Jack!” + +“And what's more, your worship, he is pugnax, bellicosus, gladiator, +a fire-eater and swash-buckler, beyond all Christian measure; a +very sucking Entellus, Sir Richard, and will do to death some of her +majesty's lieges erelong, if he be not wisely curbed. It was but a month +agone that he bemoaned himself, I hear, as Alexander did, because there +were no more worlds to conquer, saying that it was a pity he was so +strong; for, now he had thrashed all the Bideford lads, he had no sport +left; and so, as my Jack tells me, last Tuesday week he fell upon a +young man of Barnstaple, Sir Richard, a hosier's man, sir, and plebeius +(which I consider unfit for one of his blood), and, moreover, a man full +grown, and as big as either of us (Vindex stood five feet four in his +high-heeled shoes), and smote him clean over the quay into the mud, +because he said that there was a prettier maid in Barnstaple (your +worship will forgive my speaking of such toys, to which my fidelity +compels me) than ever Bideford could show; and then offered to do the +same to any man who dare say that Mistress Rose Salterne, his worship +the mayor's daughter, was not the fairest lass in all Devon.” + +“Eh? Say that over again, my good sir,” quoth Sir Richard, who had thus +arrived, as we have seen, at the second count of the indictment. “I say, +good sir, whence dost thou hear all these pretty stories?” + +“My son Jack, Sir Richard, my son Jack, ingenui vultus puer.” + +“But not, it seems, ingenui pudoris. Tell thee what, Mr. Schoolmaster, +no wonder if thy son gets put on the fire, if thou employ him as a +tale-bearer. But that is the way of all pedagogues and their sons, +by which they train the lads up eavesdroppers and favor-curriers, and +prepare them--sirrah, do you hear?--for a much more lasting and hotter +fire than that which has scorched thy son Jack's nether-tackle. Do you +mark me, sir?” + +The poor pedagogue, thus cunningly caught in his own trap, stood +trembling before his patron, who, as hereditary head of the Bridge +Trust, which endowed the school and the rest of the Bideford charities, +could, by a turn of his finger, sweep him forth with the besom +of destruction; and he gasped with terror as Sir Richard went +on--“Therefore, mind you, Sir Schoolmaster, unless you shall promise me +never to hint word of what has passed between us two, and that neither +you nor yours shall henceforth carry tales of my godson, or speak his +name within a day's march of Mistress Salterne's, look to it, if I do +not--” + +What was to be done in default was not spoken; for down went poor old +Vindex on his knees:-- + +“Oh, Sir Richard! Excellentissime, immo praecelsissime Domine et +Senator, I promise! O sir, Miles et Eques of the Garter, Bath, and +Golden Fleece, consider your dignities, and my old age--and my great +family--nine children--oh, Sir Richard, and eight of them girls!--Do +eagles war with mice? says the ancient!” + +“Thy large family, eh? How old is that fat-witted son of thine?” + +“Sixteen, Sir Richard; but that is not his fault, indeed!” + +“Nay, I suppose he would be still sucking his thumb if he dared--get up, +man--get up and seat yourself.” + +“Heaven forbid!” murmured poor Vindex, with deep humility. + +“Why is not the rogue at Oxford, with a murrain on him, instead of +lurching about here carrying tales and ogling the maidens?” + +“I had hoped, Sir Richard--and therefore I said it was not his +fault--but there was never a servitorship at Exeter open.” + +“Go to, man--go to! I will speak to my brethren of the Trust, and to +Oxford he shall go this autumn, or else to Exeter gaol, for a strong +rogue, and a masterless man. Do you hear?” + +“Hear?--oh, sir, yes! and return thanks. Jack shall go, Sir Richard, +doubt it not--I were mad else; and, Sir Richard, may I go too?” + +And therewith Vindex vanished, and Sir Richard enjoyed a second mighty +laugh, which brought in Lady Grenville, who possibly had overheard the +whole; for the first words she said were-- + +“I think, my sweet life, we had better go up to Burrough.” + +So to Burrough they went; and after much talk, and many tears, matters +were so concluded that Amyas Leigh found himself riding joyfully towards +Plymouth, by the side of Sir Richard, and being handed over to Captain +Drake, vanished for three years from the good town of Bideford. + +And now he is returned in triumph, and the observed of all observers; +and looks round and round, and sees all faces whom he expects, except +one; and that the one which he had rather see than his mother's? He is +not quite sure. Shame on himself! + +And now the prayers being ended, the rector ascends the pulpit, and +begins his sermon on the text:-- + +“The heaven and the heaven of heavens are the Lord's; the whole earth +hath he given to the children of men;” deducing therefrom craftily, to +the exceeding pleasure of his hearers, the iniquity of the Spaniards +in dispossessing the Indians, and in arrogating to themselves the +sovereignty of the tropic seas; the vanity of the Pope of Rome in +pretending to bestow on them the new countries of America; and the +justice, valor, and glory of Mr. Drake and his expedition, as testified +by God's miraculous protection of him and his, both in the Straits of +Magellan, and in his battle with the Galleon; and last, but not least, +upon the rock by Celebes, when the Pelican lay for hours firmly fixed, +and was floated off unhurt, as it were by miracle, by a sudden shift of +wind. + +Ay, smile, reader, if you will; and, perhaps, there was matter for a +smile in that honest sermon, interlarded, as it was, with scraps of +Greek and Hebrew, which no one understood, but every one expected as +their right (for a preacher was nothing then who could not prove himself +“a good Latiner”); and graced, moreover, by a somewhat pedantic and +lengthy refutation from Scripture of Dan Horace's cockney horror of the +sea-- + + “Illi robur et aes triplex,” etc. + +and his infidel and ungodly slander against the impias rates, and their +crews. + +Smile, if you will: but those were days (and there were never less +superstitious ones) in which Englishmen believed in the living God, and +were not ashamed to acknowledge, as a matter of course, His help and +providence, and calling, in the matters of daily life, which we now +in our covert atheism term “secular and carnal;” and when, the sermon +ended, the communion service had begun, and the bread and the wine were +given to those five mariners, every gallant gentleman who stood near +them (for the press would not allow of more) knelt and received the +elements with them as a thing of course, and then rose to join with +heart and voice not merely in the Gloria in Excelsis, but in the Te +Deum, which was the closing act of all. And no sooner had the clerk +given out the first verse of that great hymn, than it was taken up by +five hundred voices within the church, in bass and tenor, treble and +alto (for every one could sing in those days, and the west-country folk, +as now, were fuller than any of music), the chant was caught up by the +crowd outside, and rang away over roof and river, up to the woods of +Annery, and down to the marshes of the Taw, in wave on wave of harmony. +And as it died away, the shipping in the river made answer with their +thunder, and the crowd streamed out again toward the Bridge Head, +whither Sir Richard Grenville, and Sir John Chichester, and Mr. +Salterne, the Mayor, led the five heroes of the day to await the pageant +which had been prepared in honor of them. And as they went by, there +were few in the crowd who did not press forward to shake them by the +hand, and not only them, but their parents and kinsfolk who walked +behind, till Mrs. Leigh, her stately joy quite broken down at last, +could only answer between her sobs, “Go along, good people--God a mercy, +go along--and God send you all such sons!” + +“God give me back mine!” cried an old red-cloaked dame in the crowd; and +then, struck by some hidden impulse, she sprang forward, and catching +hold of young Amyas's sleeve-- + +“Kind sir! dear sir! For Christ his sake answer a poor old widow woman!” + +“What is it, dame?” quoth Amyas, gently enough. + +“Did you see my son to the Indies?--my son Salvation?” + +“Salvation?” replied he, with the air of one who recollected the name. + +“Yes, sure, Salvation Yeo, of Clovelly. A tall man and black, and +sweareth awfully in his talk, the Lord forgive him!” + +Amyas recollected now. It was the name of the sailor who had given him +the wondrous horn five years ago. + +“My good dame,” said he, “the Indies are a very large place, and your +son may be safe and sound enough there, without my having seen him. +I knew one Salvation Yeo. But he must have come with--By the by, +godfather, has Mr. Oxenham come home?” + +There was a dead silence for a moment among the gentlemen round; and +then Sir Richard said solemnly, and in a low voice, turning away from +the old dame,-- + +“Amyas, Mr. Oxenham has not come home; and from the day he sailed, no +word has been heard of him and all his crew.” + +“Oh, Sir Richard! and you kept me from sailing with him! Had I known +this before I went into church, I had had one mercy more to thank God +for.” + +“Thank Him all the more in thy life, my child!” whispered his mother. + +“And no news of him whatsoever?” + +“None; but that the year after he sailed, a ship belonging to Andrew +Barker, of Bristol, took out of a Spanish caravel, somewhere off the +Honduras, his two brass guns; but whence they came the Spaniard knew +not, having bought them at Nombre de Dios.” + +“Yes!” cried the old woman; “they brought home the guns, and never +brought home my boy!” + +“They never saw your boy, mother,” said Sir Richard. + +“But I've seen him! I saw him in a dream four years last Whitsuntide, as +plain as I see you now, gentles, a-lying upon a rock, calling for a drop +of water to cool his tongue, like Dives to the torment! Oh! dear me!” + and the old dame wept bitterly. + +“There is a rose noble for you!” said Mrs. Leigh. + +“And there another!” said Sir Richard. And in a few minutes four or five +gold coins were in her hand. But the old dame did but look wonderingly +at the gold a moment, and then-- + +“Ah! dear gentles, God's blessing on you, and Mr. Cary's mighty good to +me already; but gold won't buy back childer! O! young gentleman! young +gentleman! make me a promise; if you want God's blessing on you this +day, bring me back my boy, if you find him sailing on the seas! Bring +him back, and an old widow's blessing be on you!” + +Amyas promised--what else could he do?--and the group hurried on; but +the lad's heart was heavy in the midst of joy, with the thought of John +Oxenham, as he walked through the churchyard, and down the short street +which led between the ancient school and still more ancient town-house, +to the head of the long bridge, across which the pageant, having +arranged “east-the-water,” was to defile, and then turn to the right +along the quay. + +However, he was bound in all courtesy to turn his attention now to the +show which had been prepared in his honor, and which was really well +enough worth seeing and hearing. The English were, in those days, an +altogether dramatic people; ready and able, as in Bideford that day, to +extemporize a pageant, a masque, or any effort of the Thespian art short +of the regular drama. For they were, in the first place, even down to +the very poorest, a well-fed people, with fewer luxuries than we, but +more abundant necessaries; and while beef, ale, and good woollen clothes +could be obtained in plenty, without overworking either body or soul, +men had time to amuse themselves in something more intellectual +than mere toping in pot-houses. Moreover, the half century after the +Reformation in England was one not merely of new intellectual freedom, +but of immense animal good spirits. After years of dumb confusion and +cruel persecution, a breathing time had come: Mary and the fires of +Smithfield had vanished together like a hideous dream, and the mighty +shout of joy which greeted Elizabeth's entry into London, was the +key-note of fifty glorious years; the expression of a new-found strength +and freedom, which vented itself at home in drama and in song; abroad +in mighty conquests, achieved with the laughing recklessness of boys at +play. + +So first, preceded by the waits, came along the bridge toward the +town-hall a device prepared by the good rector, who, standing by, acted +as showman, and explained anxiously to the bystanders the import of +a certain “allegory” wherein on a great banner was depicted Queen +Elizabeth herself, who, in ample ruff and farthingale, a Bible in one +hand and a sword in the other, stood triumphant upon the necks of two +sufficiently abject personages, whose triple tiara and imperial crown +proclaimed them the Pope and the King of Spain; while a label, issuing +from her royal mouth, informed the world that-- + + “By land and sea a virgin queen I reign, + And spurn to dust both Antichrist and Spain.” + +Which, having been received with due applause, a well-bedizened lad, +having in his cap as a posy “Loyalty,” stepped forward, and delivered +himself of the following verses:-- + + “Oh, great Eliza! oh, world-famous crew! + Which shall I hail more blest, your queen or you? + While without other either falls to wrack, + And light must eyes, or eyes their light must lack. + She without you, a diamond sunk in mine, + Its worth unprized, to self alone must shine; + You without her, like hands bereft of head, + Like Ajax rage, by blindfold lust misled. + She light, you eyes; she head, and you the hands, + In fair proportion knit by heavenly hands; + Servants in queen, and queen in servants blest; + Your only glory, how to serve her best; + And hers how best the adventurous might to guide, + Which knows no check of foemen, wind, or tide, + So fair Eliza's spotless fame may fly + Triumphant round the globe, and shake th' astounded sky!” + +With which sufficiently bad verses Loyalty passed on, while my Lady Bath +hinted to Sir Richard, not without reason, that the poet, in trying to +exalt both parties, had very sufficiently snubbed both, and intimated +that it was “hardly safe for country wits to attempt that euphuistic, +antithetical, and delicately conceited vein, whose proper fountain was +in Whitehall.” However, on went Loyalty, very well pleased with himself, +and next, amid much cheering, two great tinsel fish, a salmon and a +trout, symbolical of the wealth of Torridge, waddled along, by means +of two human legs and a staff apiece, which protruded from the fishes' +stomachs. They drew (or seemed to draw, for half the 'prentices in the +town were shoving it behind, and cheering on the panting monarchs of +the flood) a car wherein sate, amid reeds and river-flags, three or +four pretty girls in robes of gray-blue spangled with gold, their heads +wreathed one with a crown of the sweet bog-myrtle, another with hops +and white convolvulus, the third with pale heather and golden fern. They +stopped opposite Amyas; and she of the myrtle wreath, rising and bowing +to him and the company, began with a pretty blush to say her say:-- + + “Hither from my moorland home, + Nymph of Torridge, proud I come; + Leaving fen and furzy brake, + Haunt of eft and spotted snake, + Where to fill mine urns I use, + Daily with Atlantic dews; + While beside the reedy flood + Wild duck leads her paddling brood. + For this morn, as Phoebus gay + Chased through heaven the night mist gray, + Close beside me, prankt in pride, + Sister Tamar rose, and cried, + 'Sluggard, up! 'Tis holiday, + In the lowlands far away. + Hark! how jocund Plymouth bells, + Wandering up through mazy dells, + Call me down, with smiles to hail, + My daring Drake's returning sail.' + 'Thine alone?' I answer'd. 'Nay; + Mine as well the joy to-day. + Heroes train'd on Northern wave, + To that Argo new I gave; + Lent to thee, they roam'd the main; + Give me, nymph, my sons again.' + 'Go, they wait Thee,' Tamar cried, + Southward bounding from my side. + Glad I rose, and at my call, + Came my Naiads, one and all. + Nursling of the mountain sky, + Leaving Dian's choir on high, + Down her cataracts laughing loud, + Ockment leapt from crag and cloud, + Leading many a nymph, who dwells + Where wild deer drink in ferny dells; + While the Oreads as they past + Peep'd from Druid Tors aghast. + By alder copses sliding slow, + Knee-deep in flowers came gentler Yeo + And paused awhile her locks to twine + With musky hops and white woodbine, + Then joined the silver-footed band, + Which circled down my golden sand, + By dappled park, and harbor shady, + Haunt of love-lorn knight and lady, + My thrice-renowned sons to greet, + With rustic song and pageant meet. + For joy! the girdled robe around + Eliza's name henceforth shall sound, + Whose venturous fleets to conquest start, + Where ended once the seaman's chart, + While circling Sol his steps shall count + Henceforth from Thule's western mount, + And lead new rulers round the seas + From furthest Cassiterides. + For found is now the golden tree, + Solv'd th' Atlantic mystery, + Pluck'd the dragon-guarded fruit; + While around the charmed root, + Wailing loud, the Hesperids + Watch their warder's drooping lids. + Low he lies with grisly wound, + While the sorceress triple-crown'd + In her scarlet robe doth shield him, + Till her cunning spells have heal'd him. + Ye, meanwhile, around the earth + Bear the prize of manful worth. + Yet a nobler meed than gold + Waits for Albion's children bold; + Great Eliza's virgin hand + Welcomes you to Fairy-land, + While your native Naiads bring + Native wreaths as offering. + Simple though their show may be, + Britain's worship in them see. + 'Tis not price, nor outward fairness, + Gives the victor's palm its rareness; + Simplest tokens can impart + Noble throb to noble heart: + Graecia, prize thy parsley crown, + Boast thy laurel, Caesar's town; + Moorland myrtle still shall be + Badge of Devon's Chivalry!” + +And so ending, she took the wreath of fragrant gale from her own head, +and stooping from the car, placed it on the head of Amyas Leigh, who +made answer-- + +“There is no place like home, my fair mistress and no scent to my taste +like this old home-scent in all the spice-islands that I ever sailed +by!” + +“Her song was not so bad,” said Sir Richard to Lady Bath--“but how came +she to hear Plymouth bells at Tamar-head, full fifty miles away? That's +too much of a poet's license, is it not?” + +“The river-nymphs, as daughters of Oceanus, and thus of immortal +parentage, are bound to possess organs of more than mortal keenness; +but, as you say, the song was not so bad--erudite, as well as +prettily conceived--and, saving for a certain rustical simplicity and +monosyllabic baldness, smacks rather of the forests of Castaly than +those of Torridge.” + +So spake my Lady Bath; whom Sir Richard wisely answered not; for she was +a terribly learned member of the college of critics, and disputed even +with Sidney's sister the chieftaincy of the Euphuists; so Sir Richard +answered not, but answer was made for him. + +“Since the whole choir of Muses, madam, have migrated to the Court of +Whitehall, no wonder if some dews of Parnassus should fertilize at times +even our Devon moors.” + +The speaker was a tall and slim young man, some five-and-twenty years +old, of so rare and delicate a beauty, that it seemed that some Greek +statue, or rather one of those pensive and pious knights whom the old +German artists took delight to paint, had condescended to tread awhile +this work-day earth in living flesh and blood. The forehead was very +lofty and smooth, the eyebrows thin and greatly arched (the envious +gallants whispered that something at least of their curve was due to +art, as was also the exceeding smoothness of those delicate cheeks). +The face was somewhat long and thin; the nose aquiline; and the languid +mouth showed, perhaps, too much of the ivory upper teeth; but the +most striking point of the speaker's appearance was the extraordinary +brilliancy of his complexion, which shamed with its whiteness that of +all fair ladies round, save where open on each cheek a bright red spot +gave warning, as did the long thin neck and the taper hands, of sad +possibilities, perhaps not far off; possibilities which all saw with an +inward sigh, except she whose doting glances, as well as her resemblance +to the fair youth, proclaimed her at once his mother, Mrs. Leigh +herself. + +Master Frank, for he it was, was dressed in the very extravagance of +the fashion,--not so much from vanity, as from that delicate instinct +of self-respect which would keep some men spruce and spotless from one +year's end to another upon a desert island; “for,” as Frank used to say +in his sententious way, “Mr. Frank Leigh at least beholds me, though +none else be by; and why should I be more discourteous to him than +I permit others to be? Be sure that he who is a Grobian in his own +company, will, sooner or later, become a Grobian in that of his +friends.” + +So Mr. Frank was arrayed spotlessly; but after the latest fashion of +Milan, not in trunk hose and slashed sleeves, nor in “French standing +collar, treble quadruple daedalian ruff, or stiff-necked rabato, that +had more arches for pride, propped up with wire and timber, than five +London Bridges;” but in a close-fitting and perfectly plain suit of +dove-color, which set off cunningly the delicate proportions of his +figure, and the delicate hue of his complexion, which was shaded from +the sun by a broad dove-colored Spanish hat, with feather to match, +looped up over the right ear with a pearl brooch, and therein a crowned +E, supposed by the damsels of Bideford to stand for Elizabeth, which +was whispered to be the gift of some most illustrious hand. This same +looping up was not without good reason and purpose prepense; thereby all +the world had full view of a beautiful little ear, which looked as if +it had been cut of cameo, and made, as my Lady Rich once told him, “to +hearken only to the music of the spheres, or to the chants of cherubim.” + Behind the said ear was stuck a fresh rose; and the golden hair was all +drawn smoothly back and round to the left temple, whence, tied with a +pink ribbon in a great true lover's knot, a mighty love-lock, “curled as +it had been laid in press,” rolled down low upon his bosom. Oh, Frank! +Frank! have you come out on purpose to break the hearts of all Bideford +burghers' daughters? And if so, did you expect to further that triumph +by dyeing that pretty little pointed beard (with shame I report it) of +a bright vermilion? But we know you better, Frank, and so does your +mother; and you are but a masquerading angel after all, in spite of +your knots and your perfumes, and the gold chain round your neck which a +German princess gave you; and the emerald ring on your right fore-finger +which Hatton gave you; and the pair of perfumed gloves in your left +which Sidney's sister gave you; and the silver-hilted Toledo which an +Italian marquis gave you on a certain occasion of which you never choose +to talk, like a prudent and modest gentleman as you are; but of which +the gossips talk, of course, all the more, and whisper that you saved +his life from bravoes--a dozen, at the least; and had that sword for +your reward, and might have had his beautiful sister's hand beside, and +I know not what else; but that you had so many lady-loves already that +you were loath to burden yourself with a fresh one. That, at least, we +know to be a lie, fair Frank; for your heart is as pure this day as when +you knelt in your little crib at Burrough, and said-- + + “Four corners to my bed + Four angels round my head; + Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, + Bless the bed that I lie on.” + +And who could doubt it (if being pure themselves, they have instinctive +sympathy with what is pure), who ever looked into those great deep blue +eyes of yours, “the black fringed curtains of whose azure lids,” + usually down-dropt as if in deepest thought, you raise slowly, almost +wonderingly each time you speak, as if awakening from some fair dream +whose home is rather in your platonical “eternal world of supra-sensible +forms,” than on that work-day earth wherein you nevertheless acquit +yourself so well? There--I must stop describing you, or I shall catch +the infection of your own euphuism, and talk of you as you would have +talked of Sidney or of Spenser, or of that Swan of Avon, whose song +had just begun when yours--but I will not anticipate; my Lady Bath is +waiting to give you her rejoinder. + +“Ah, my silver-tongued scholar! and are you, then, the poet? or have +you been drawing on the inexhaustible bank of your friend Raleigh, or my +cousin Sidney? or has our new Cygnet Immerito lent you a few unpublished +leaves from some fresh Shepherd's Calendar?” + +“Had either, madam, of that cynosural triad been within call of my +most humble importunities, your ears had been delectate with far nobler +melody.” + +“But not our eyes with fairer faces, eh? Well, you have chosen your +nymphs, and had good store from whence to pick, I doubt not. Few +young Dulcineas round but must have been glad to take service under so +renowned a captain?” + +“The only difficulty, gracious countess, has been to know where to fix +the wandering choice of my bewildered eyes, where all alike are fair, +and all alike facund.” + +“We understand,” said she, smiling;-- + + “Dan Cupid, choosing 'midst his mother's graces, + Himself more fair, made scorn of fairest faces.” + +The young scholar capped her distich forthwith, and bowing to her with a +meaning look, + + +“'Then, Goddess, turn,' he cried, 'and veil thy light; Blinded by thine, +what eyes can choose aright?'” + + +“Go, saucy sir,” said my lady, in high glee: “the pageant stays your +supreme pleasure.” + +And away went Mr. Frank as master of the revels, to bring up the +'prentices' pageant; while, for his sake, the nymph of Torridge was +forgotten for awhile by all young dames, and most young gentlemen: and +his mother heaved a deep sigh, which Lady Bath overhearing-- + +“What? in the dumps, good madam, while all are rejoicing in your joy? +Are you afraid that we court-dames shall turn your Adonis's brain for +him?” + +“I do, indeed, fear lest your condescension should make him forget that +he is only a poor squire's orphan.” + +“I will warrant him never to forget aught that he should recollect,” + said my Lady Bath. + +And she spoke truly. But soon Frank's silver voice was heard calling +out-- + +“Room there, good people, for the gallant 'prentice lads!” + +And on they came, headed by a giant of buckram and pasteboard armor, +forth of whose stomach looked, like a clock-face in a steeple, a human +visage, to be greeted, as was the fashion then, by a volley of quips and +puns from high and low. + +Young Mr. William Cary, of Clovelly, who was the wit of those parts, +opened the fire by asking him whether he were Goliath, Gogmagog, or +Grantorto in the romance; for giants' names always began with a G. To +which the giant's stomach answered pretty surlily-- + +“Mine don't; I begin with an O.” + +“Then thou criest out before thou art hurt, O cowardly giant!” + +“Let me out, lads,” quoth the irascible visage, struggling in his +buckram prison, “and I soon show him whether I be a coward.” + +“Nay, if thou gettest out of thyself, thou wouldst be beside thyself, +and so wert but a mad giant.” + +“And that were pity,” said Lady Bath; “for by the romances, giants have +never overmuch wit to spare.” + +“Mercy, dear lady!” said Frank, “and let the giant begin with an O.” + +“A ----” + +“A false start, giant! you were to begin with an O.” + +“I'll make you end with an O, Mr. William Cary!” roared the testy tower +of buckram. + +“And so I do, for I end with 'Fico!'” + +“Be mollified, sweet giant,” said Frank, “and spare the rash youth of +yon foolish knight. Shall elephants catch flies, or Hurlo-Thrumbo stain +his club with brains of Dagonet the jester? Be mollified; leave thy +caverned grumblings, like Etna when its windy wrath is past, and +discourse eloquence from thy central omphalos, like Pythoness +ventriloquizing.” + +“If you do begin laughing at me too, Mr. Leigh ----” said the giant's +clock-face, in a piteous tone. + +“I laugh not. Art thou not Ordulf the earl, and I thy humblest squire? +Speak up, my lord; your cousin, my Lady Bath, commands you.” + +And at last the giant began:-- + + “A giant I, Earl Ordulf men me call,-- + 'Gainst Paynim foes Devonia's champion tall; + In single fight six thousand Turks I slew; + Pull'd off a lion's head, and ate it too: + With one shrewd blow, to let St. Edward in, + I smote the gates of Exeter in twain; + Till aged grown, by angels warn'd in dream, + I built an abbey fair by Tavy stream. + But treacherous time hath tripped my glories up, + The stanch old hound must yield to stancher pup; + Here's one so tall as I, and twice so bold, + Where I took only cuffs, takes good red gold. + From pole to pole resound his wondrous works, + Who slew more Spaniards than I e'er slew Turks; + I strode across the Tavy stream: but he + Strode round the world and back; and here 'a be!” + +“Oh, bathos!” said Lady Bath, while the 'prentices shouted applause. “Is +this hedge-bantling to be fathered on you, Mr. Frank?” + +“It is necessary, by all laws of the drama, madam,” said Frank, with a +sly smile, “that the speech and the speaker shall fit each other. Pass +on, Earl Ordulf; a more learned worthy waits.” + +Whereon, up came a fresh member of the procession; namely, no less +a person than Vindex Brimblecombe, the ancient schoolmaster, with +five-and-forty boys at his heels, who halting, pulled out his +spectacles, and thus signified his forgiveness of his whilom broken +head:-- + +“That the world should have been circumnavigated, ladies and gentles, +were matter enough of jubilation to the student of Herodotus and Plato, +Plinius and ---- ahem! much more when the circumnavigators are Britons; +more, again, when Damnonians.” + +“Don't swear, master,” said young Will Cary. + +“Gulielme Cary, Gulielme Cary, hast thou forgotten thy--” + +“Whippings? Never, old lad! Go on; but let not the license of the +scholar overtop the modesty of the Christian.” + +“More again, as I said, when, incolae, inhabitants of Devon; but, +most of all, men of Bideford school. Oh renowned school! Oh schoolboys +ennobled by fellowship with him! Oh most happy pedagogue, to whom it has +befallen to have chastised a circumnavigator, and, like another Chiron, +trained another Hercules: yet more than Hercules, for he placed +his pillars on the ocean shore, and then returned; but my scholar's +voyage--” + +“Hark how the old fox is praising himself all along on the sly,” said +Cary. + +“Mr. William, Mr. William, peace;--silentium, my graceless pupil. Urge +the foaming steed, and strike terror into the rapid stag, but meddle not +with matters too high for thee.” + +“He has given you the dor now, sir,” said Lady Bath; “let the old man +say his say.” + +“I bring, therefore, as my small contribution to this day's feast; first +a Latin epigram, as thus--” + +“Latin? Let us hear it forthwith,” cried my lady. + +And the old pedant mouthed out-- + + “Torriguiam Tamaris ne spernat; Leighius addet + Mox terras terris, inclyte Drake, tuis.” + +“Neat, i' faith, la!” Whereon all the rest, as in duty bound, approved +also. + +“This for the erudite: for vulgar ears the vernacular is more consonant, +sympathetic, instructive; as thus:-- + + “Famed Argo ship, that noble chip, by doughty Jason's steering, + Brought back to Greece the golden fleece, from Colchis home + careering; + But now her fame is put to shame, while new Devonian Argo, + Round earth doth run in wake of sun, and brings wealthier cargo.” + +“Runs with a right fa-lal-la,” observed Cary; “and would go nobly to a +fiddle and a big drum.” + + “Ye Spaniards, quake! our doughty Drake a royal swan is tested, + On wing and oar, from shore to shore, the raging main who + breasted:-- + But never needs to chant his deeds, like swan that lies a-dying, + So far his name, by trump of fame, around the sphere is flying.” + +“Hillo ho! schoolmaster!” shouted a voice from behind; “move on, and +make way for Father Neptune!” Whereon a whole storm of raillery fell +upon the hapless pedagogue. + +“We waited for the parson's alligator, but we wain't for yourn.” + +“Allegory! my children, allegory!” shrieked the man of letters. + +“What do ye call he an alligator for? He is but a poor little starved +evat!” + +“Out of the road, old Custis! March on, Don Palmado!” + +These allusions to the usual instrument of torture in West-country +schools made the old gentleman wince; especially when they were followed +home by-- + +“Who stole Admiral Grenville's brooms, because birch rods were dear?” + +But proudly he shook his bald head, as a bull shakes off the flies, and +returned to the charge once more. + + +“Great Alexander, famed commander, wept and made a pother, At conquering +only half the world, but Drake had conquer'd t'other; And Hercules to +brink of seas!--” + + +“Oh--!” + +And clapping both hands to the back of his neck, the schoolmaster began +dancing frantically about, while his boys broke out tittering, “O! the +ochidore! look to the blue ochidore! Who've put ochidore to maister's +poll!” + +It was too true: neatly inserted, as he stooped forward, between his +neck and his collar, was a large live shore-crab, holding on tight with +both hands. + +“Gentles! good Christians! save me! I am mare-rode! Incubo, vel ab +incubo, opprimor! Satanas has me by the poll! Help! he tears my jugular; +he wrings my neck, as he does to Dr. Faustus in the play. Confiteor!--I +confess! Satan, I defy thee! Good people, I confess! [Greek text]! The +truth will out. Mr. Francis Leigh wrote the epigram!” And diving through +the crowd, the pedagogue vanished howling, while Father Neptune, crowned +with sea-weeds, a trident in one hand, and a live dog-fish in the other, +swaggered up the street surrounded by a tall bodyguard of mariners, and +followed by a great banner, on which was depicted a globe, with Drake's +ship sailing thereon upside down, and overwritten-- + + “See every man the Pelican, + Which round the world did go, + While her stern-post was uppermost, + And topmasts down below. + And by the way she lost a day, + Out of her log was stole: + But Neptune kind, with favoring wind, + Hath brought her safe and whole.” + +“Now, lads!” cried Neptune; “hand me my parable that's writ for me, and +here goeth!” + +And at the top of his bull-voice, he began roaring-- + + “I am King Neptune bold, + The ruler of the seas + I don't understand much singing upon land, + But I hope what I say will please. + + “Here be five Bideford men, + Which have sail'd the world around, + And I watch'd them well, as they all can tell, + And brought them home safe and sound. + + “For it is the men of Devon. + To see them I take delight, + Both to tack and to hull, and to heave and to pull, + And to prove themselves in fight. + + “Where be those Spaniards proud, + That make their valiant boasts; + And think for to keep the poor Indians for their sheep, + And to farm my golden coasts? + + “'Twas the devil and the Pope gave them + My kingdom for their own: + But my nephew Francis Drake, he caused them to quake, + And he pick'd them to the bone. + + “For the sea my realm it is, + As good Queen Bess's is the land; + So freely come again, all merry Devon men, + And there's old Neptune's hand.” + +“Holla, boys! holla! Blow up, Triton, and bring forward the freedom of +the seas.” + +Triton, roaring through a conch, brought forward a cockle-shell full of +salt-water, and delivered it solemnly to Amyas, who, of course, put a +noble into it, and returned it after Grenville had done the same. + +“Holla, Dick Admiral!” cried neptune, who was pretty far gone in liquor; +“we knew thou hadst a right English heart in thee, for all thou standest +there as taut as a Don who has swallowed his rapier.” + +“Grammercy, stop thy bellowing, fellow, and on; for thou smellest vilely +of fish.” + +“Everything smells sweet in its right place. I'm going home.” + +“I thought thou wert there all along, being already half-seas over,” + said Cary. + +“Ay, right Upsee-Dutch; and that's more than thou ever wilt be, thou +'long-shore stay-at-home. Why wast making sheep's eyes at Mistress +Salterne here, while my pretty little chuck of Burrough there was +playing at shove-groat with Spanish doubloons?” + +“Go to the devil, sirrah!” said Cary. Neptune had touched on a sore +subject; and more cheeks than Amyas Leigh's reddened at the hint. + +“Amen, if Heaven so please!” and on rolled the monarch of the seas; and +so the pageant ended. + +The moment Amyas had an opportunity, he asked his brother Frank, +somewhat peevishly, where Rose Salterne was. + +“What! the mayor's daughter? With her uncle by Kilkhampton, I believe.” + +Now cunning Master Frank, whose daily wish was to “seek peace and ensue +it,” told Amyas this, because he must needs speak the truth: but he was +purposed at the same time to speak as little truth as he could, for fear +of accidents; and, therefore, omitted to tell his brother how that he, +two days before, had entreated Rose Salterne herself to appear as the +nymph of Torridge; which honor she, who had no objection either to +exhibit her pretty face, to recite pretty poetry, or to be trained +thereto by the cynosure of North Devon, would have assented willingly, +but that her father stopped the pretty project by a peremptory +countermove, and packed her off, in spite of her tears, to the said +uncle on the Atlantic cliffs; after which he went up to Burrough, and +laughed over the whole matter with Mrs. Leigh. + +“I am but a burgher, Mrs. Leigh, and you a lady of blood; but I am too +proud to let any man say that Simon Salterne threw his daughter at your +son's head;--no; not if you were an empress!” + +“And to speak truth, Mr. Salterne, there are young gallants enough in +the country quarrelling about her pretty face every day, without making +her a tourney-queen to tilt about.” + +Which was very true; for during the three years of Amyas's absence, Rose +Salterne had grown into so beautiful a girl of eighteen, that half North +Devon was mad about the “Rose of Torridge,” as she was called; and +there was not a young gallant for ten miles round (not to speak of her +father's clerks and 'prentices, who moped about after her like so many +Malvolios, and treasured up the very parings of her nails) who would +not have gone to Jerusalem to win her. So that all along the vales of +Torridge and of Taw, and even away to Clovelly (for young Mr. Cary was +one of the sick), not a gay bachelor but was frowning on his fellows, +and vying with them in the fashion of his clothes, the set of his ruffs, +the harness of his horse, the carriage of his hawks, the pattern of his +sword-hilt; and those were golden days for all tailors and armorers, +from Exmoor to Okehampton town. But of all those foolish young lads +not one would speak to the other, either out hunting, or at the archery +butts, or in the tilt-yard; and my Lady Bath (who confessed that there +was no use in bringing out her daughters where Rose Salterne was in the +way) prophesied in her classical fashion that Rose's wedding bid fair +to be a very bridal of Atalanta, and feast of the Lapithae; and poor +Mr. Will Cary (who always blurted out the truth), when old Salterne once +asked him angrily in Bideford Market, “What a plague business had he +making sheep's eyes at his daughter?” broke out before all bystanders, +“And what a plague business had you, old boy, to throw such an apple of +discord into our merry meetings hereabouts? If you choose to have such +a daughter, you must take the consequences, and be hanged to you.” To +which Mr. Salterne answered with some truth, “That she was none of his +choosing, nor of Mr. Cary's neither.” And so the dor being given, the +belligerents parted laughing, but the war remained in statu quo; and +not a week passed but, by mysterious hands, some nosegay, or languishing +sonnet, was conveyed into The Rose's chamber, all which she stowed away, +with the simplicity of a country girl, finding it mighty pleasant; and +took all compliments quietly enough, probably because, on the authority +of her mirror, she considered them no more than her due. + +And now, to add to the general confusion, home was come young Amyas +Leigh, more desperately in love with her than ever. For, as is the +way with sailors (who after all are the truest lovers, as they are the +finest fellows, God bless them, upon earth), his lonely ship-watches +had been spent in imprinting on his imagination, month after month, year +after year, every feature and gesture and tone of the fair lass whom he +had left behind him; and that all the more intensely, because, beside +his mother, he had no one else to think of, and was as pure as the day +he was born, having been trained as many a brave young man was then, +to look upon profligacy not as a proof of manhood, but as what the old +Germans, and those Gortyneans who crowned the offender with wool, knew +it to be, a cowardly and effeminate sin. + + + +CHAPTER III + +OF TWO GENTLEMEN OF WALES, AND HOW THEY HUNTED WITH THE HOUNDS, AND YET +RAN WITH THE DEER + + “I know that Deformed; he has been a vile thief this seven years; + he goes up and down like a gentleman: I remember his name.”--Much + Ado About Nothing. + +Amyas slept that night a tired and yet a troubled sleep; and his mother +and Frank, as they bent over his pillow, could see that his brain was +busy with many dreams. + +And no wonder; for over and above all the excitement of the day, the +recollection of John Oxenham had taken strange possession of his mind; +and all that evening, as he sat in the bay-windowed room where he had +seen him last, Amyas was recalling to himself every look and gesture +of the lost adventurer, and wondering at himself for so doing, till +he retired to sleep, only to renew the fancy in his dreams. At last he +found himself, he knew not how, sailing westward ever, up the wake of +the setting sun, in chase of a tiny sail which was John Oxenham's. +Upon him was a painful sense that, unless he came up with her in time, +something fearful would come to pass; but the ship would not sail. All +around floated the sargasso beds, clogging her bows with their long +snaky coils of weed; and still he tried to sail, and tried to fancy that +he was sailing, till the sun went down and all was utter dark. And then +the moon arose, and in a moment John Oxenham's ship was close aboard; +her sails were torn and fluttering; the pitch was streaming from her +sides; her bulwarks were rotting to decay. And what was that line of +dark objects dangling along the mainyard?--A line of hanged men! And, +horror of horrors, from the yard-arm close above him, John Oxenham's +corpse looked down with grave-light eyes, and beckoned and pointed, as +if to show him his way, and strove to speak, and could not, and pointed +still, not forward, but back along their course. And when Amyas looked +back, behold, behind him was the snow range of the Andes glittering in +the moon, and he knew that he was in the South Seas once more, and that +all America was between him and home. And still the corpse kept pointing +back, and back, and looking at him with yearning eyes of agony, and lips +which longed to tell some awful secret; till he sprang up, and woke with +a shout of terror, and found himself lying in the little coved chamber +in dear old Burrough, with the gray autumn morning already stealing in. + +Feverish and excited, he tried in vain to sleep again; and after an +hour's tossing, rose and dressed, and started for a bathe on his beloved +old pebble ridge. As he passed his mother's door, he could not help +looking in. The dim light of morning showed him the bed; but its +pillow had not been pressed that night. His mother, in her long white +night-dress, was kneeling at the other end of the chamber at her +prie-dieu, absorbed in devotion. Gently he slipped in without a word, +and knelt down at her side. She turned, smiled, passed her arm around +him, and went on silently with her prayers. Why not? They were for him, +and he knew it, and prayed also; and his prayers were for her, and for +poor lost John Oxenham, and all his vanished crew. + +At last she rose, and standing above him, parted the yellow locks from +off his brow, and looked long and lovingly into his face. There was +nothing to be spoken, for there was nothing to be concealed between +these two souls as clear as glass. Each knew all which the other meant; +each knew that its own thoughts were known. At last the mutual gaze was +over; she stooped and kissed him on the brow, and was in the act to +turn away, as a tear dropped on his forehead. Her little bare feet were +peeping out from under her dress. He bent down and kissed them again and +again; and then looking up, as if to excuse himself,-- + +“You have such pretty feet, mother!” + +Instantly, with a woman's instinct, she had hidden them. She had been a +beauty once, as I said; and though her hair was gray, and her roses had +faded long ago, she was beautiful still, in all eyes which saw deeper +than the mere outward red and white. + +“Your dear father used to say so thirty years ago.” + +“And I say so still: you always were beautiful; you are beautiful now.” + +“What is that to you, silly boy? Will you play the lover with an old +mother? Go and take your walk, and think of younger ladies, if you can +find any worthy of you.” + +And so the son went forth, and the mother returned to her prayers. + +He walked down to the pebble ridge, where the surges of the bay have +defeated their own fury, by rolling up in the course of ages a rampart +of gray boulder-stones, some two miles long, as cunningly curved, and +smoothed, and fitted, as if the work had been done by human hands, which +protects from the high tides of spring and autumn a fertile sheet of +smooth, alluvial turf. Sniffing the keen salt air like a young sea-dog, +he stripped and plunged into the breakers, and dived, and rolled, and +tossed about the foam with stalwart arms, till he heard himself hailed +from off the shore, and looking up, saw standing on the top of the +rampart the tall figure of his cousin Eustace. + +Amyas was half-disappointed at his coming; for, love-lorn rascal, he had +been dreaming all the way thither of Rose Salterne, and had no wish +for a companion who would prevent his dreaming of her all the way back. +Nevertheless, not having seen Eustace for three years, it was but civil +to scramble out and dress, while his cousin walked up and down upon the +turf inside. + +Eustace Leigh was the son of a younger brother of Leigh of Burrough, who +had more or less cut himself off from his family, and indeed from his +countrymen, by remaining a Papist. True, though born a Papist, he had +not always been one; for, like many of the gentry, he had become a +Protestant under Edward the Sixth, and then a Papist again under Mary. +But, to his honor be it said, at that point he had stopped, having +too much honesty to turn Protestant a second time, as hundreds did, at +Elizabeth's accession. So a Papist he remained, living out of the way +of the world in a great, rambling, dark house, still called “Chapel,” + on the Atlantic cliffs, in Moorwinstow parish, not far from Sir Richard +Grenville's house of Stow. The penal laws never troubled him; for, in +the first place, they never troubled any one who did not make conspiracy +and rebellion an integral doctrine of his religious creed; and next, +they seldom troubled even them, unless, fired with the glory of +martyrdom, they bullied the long-suffering of Elizabeth and her council +into giving them their deserts, and, like poor Father Southwell in +after years, insisted on being hanged, whether Burleigh liked or not. +Moreover, in such a no-man's-land and end-of-all-the-earth was that old +house at Moorwinstow, that a dozen conspiracies might have been hatched +there without any one hearing of it; and Jesuits and seminary priests +skulked in and out all the year round, unquestioned though unblest; and +found a sort of piquant pleasure, like naughty boys who have crept +into the store-closet, in living in mysterious little dens in a lonely +turret, and going up through a trap-door to celebrate mass in a secret +chamber in the roof, where they were allowed by the powers that were to +play as much as they chose at persecuted saints, and preach about hiding +in dens and caves of the earth. For once, when the zealous parson +of Moorwinstow, having discovered (what everybody knew already) the +existence of “mass priests and their idolatry” at Chapel House, made +formal complaint thereof to Sir Richard, and called on him, as the +nearest justice of the peace, to put in force the act of the fourteenth +of Elizabeth, that worthy knight only rated him soundly for a +fantastical Puritan, and bade him mind his own business, if he wished +not to make the place too hot for him; whereon (for the temporal +authorities, happily for the peace of England, kept in those days +a somewhat tight hand upon the spiritual ones) the worthy parson +subsided,--for, after all, Mr. Thomas Leigh paid his tithes regularly +enough,--and was content, as he expressed it, to bow his head in the +house of Rimmon like Naaman of old, by eating Mr. Leigh's dinners +as often as he was invited, and ignoring the vocation of old Father +Francis, who sat opposite to him, dressed as a layman, and calling +himself the young gentleman's pedagogue. + +But the said birds of ill-omen had a very considerable lien on the +conscience of poor Mr. Thomas Leigh, the father of Eustace, in the form +of certain lands once belonging to the Abbey of Hartland. He more than +half believed that he should be lost for holding those lands; but he did +not believe it wholly, and, therefore, he did not give them up; which +was the case, as poor Mary Tudor found to her sorrow, with most of her +“Catholic” subjects, whose consciences, while they compelled them to +return to the only safe fold of Mother Church (extra quam nulla salus), +by no means compelled them to disgorge the wealth of which they had +plundered that only hope of their salvation. Most of them, however, like +poor Tom Leigh, felt the abbey rents burn in their purses; and, as John +Bull generally does in a difficulty, compromised the matter by a second +folly (as if two wrong things made one right one), and petted foreign +priests, and listened, or pretended not to listen, to their plottings +and their practisings; and gave up a son here, and a son there, as a +sort of a sin-offering and scapegoat, to be carried off to Douay, or +Rheims, or Rome, and trained as a seminary priest; in plain English, to +be taught the science of villainy, on the motive of superstition. One of +such hapless scapegoats, and children who had been cast into the fire to +Moloch, was Eustace Leigh, whom his father had sent, giving the fruit of +his body for the sin of his soul, to be made a liar of at Rheims. + +And a very fair liar he had become. Not that the lad was a bad fellow at +heart; but he had been chosen by the harpies at home, on account of his +“peculiar vocation;” in plain English, because the wily priests had seen +in him certain capacities of vague hysterical fear of the unseen (the +religious sentiment, we call it now-a-days), and with them that tendency +to be a rogue, which superstitious men always have. He was now a tall, +handsome, light-complexioned man, with a huge upright forehead, a very +small mouth, and a dry and set expression of face, which was always +trying to get free, or rather to seem free, and indulge in smiles and +dimples which were proper; for one ought to have Christian love, and +if one had love one ought to be cheerful, and when people were cheerful +they smiled; and therefore he would smile, and tried to do so; but his +charity prepense looked no more alluring than malice prepense would have +done; and, had he not been really a handsome fellow, many a woman who +raved about his sweetness would have likened his frankness to that of a +skeleton dancing in fetters, and his smiles to the grins thereof. + +He had returned to England about a month before, in obedience to the +proclamation which had been set forth for that purpose (and certainly +not before it was needed), that, “whosoever had children, wards, +etc., in the parts beyond the seas, should send in their names to the +ordinary, and within four months call them home again.” So Eustace was +now staying with his father at Chapel, having, nevertheless, his private +matters to transact on behalf of the virtuous society by whom he +had been brought up; one of which private matters had brought him to +Bideford the night before. + +So he sat down beside Amyas on the pebbles, and looked at him all over +out of the corners of his eyes very gently, as if he did not wish to +hurt him, or even the flies on his back; and Amyas faced right round, +and looked him full in the face with the heartiest of smiles, and held +out a lion's paw, which Eustace took rapturously, and a great shaking of +hands ensued; Amyas gripping with a great round fist, and a quiet quiver +thereof, as much as to say, “I AM glad to see you;” and Eustace pinching +hard with white, straight fingers, and sawing the air violently up and +down, as much as to say, “DON'T YOU SEE how glad I am to see you?” A +very different greeting from the former. + +“Hold hard, old lad,” said Amyas, “before you break my elbow. And where +do you come from?” + +“From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in +it,” said he, with a little smile and nod of mysterious self-importance. + +“Like the devil, eh? Well, every man has his pattern. How is my uncle?” + +Now, if there was one man on earth above another, of whom Eustace Leigh +stood in dread, it was his cousin Amyas. In the first place, he knew +Amyas could have killed him with a blow; and there are natures, who, +instead of rejoicing in the strength of men of greater prowess than +themselves, look at such with irritation, dread, at last, spite; +expecting, perhaps, that the stronger will do to them what they feel +they might have done in his place. Every one, perhaps, has the same +envious, cowardly devil haunting about his heart; but the brave men, +though they be very sparrows, kick him out; the cowards keep him, and +foster him; and so did poor Eustace Leigh. + +Next, he could not help feeling that Amyas despised him. They had not +met for three years; but before Amyas went, Eustace never could argue +with him, simply because Amyas treated him as beneath argument. No doubt +he was often rude and unfair enough; but the whole mass of questions +concerning the unseen world, which the priests had stimulated in his +cousin's mind into an unhealthy fungus crop, were to Amyas simply, as he +expressed it, “wind and moonshine;” and he treated his cousin as a +sort of harmless lunatic, and, as they say in Devon, “half-baked.” And +Eustace knew it; and knew, too, that his cousin did him an injustice. +“He used to undervalue me,” said he to himself; “let us see whether he +does not find me a match for him now.” And then went off into an agony +of secret contrition for his self-seeking and his forgetting that +“the glory of God, and not his own exaltation,” was the object of his +existence. + +There, dear readers, Ex pede Herculem; I cannot tire myself or you +(especially in this book) with any wire-drawn soul-dissections. I have +tried to hint to you two opposite sorts of men,--the one trying to be +good with all his might and main, according to certain approved methods +and rules, which he has got by heart, and like a weak oarsman, feeling +and fingering his spiritual muscles over all day, to see if they are +growing; the other not even knowing whether he is good or not, but just +doing the right thing without thinking about it, as simply as a little +child, because the Spirit of God is with him. If you cannot see the +great gulf fixed between the two, I trust that you will discover it some +day. + +But in justice be it said, all this came upon Eustace, not because he +was a Romanist, but because he was educated by the Jesuits. Had he been +saved from them, he might have lived and died as simple and honest a +gentleman as his brothers, who turned out like true Englishmen (as did +all the Romish laity) to face the great Armada, and one of whom was +fighting at that very minute under St. Leger in Ireland, and as brave +and loyal a soldier as those Roman Catholics whose noble blood has +stained every Crimean battlefield; but his fate was appointed otherwise; +and the Upas-shadow which has blighted the whole Romish Church, blighted +him also. + +“Ah, my dearest cousin!” said Eustace, “how disappointed I was this +morning at finding I had arrived just a day too late to witness your +triumph! But I hastened to your home as soon as I could, and learning +from your mother that I should find you here, hurried down to bid you +welcome again to Devon.” + +“Well, old lad, it does look very natural to see you. I often used to +think of you walking the deck o' nights. Uncle and the girls are all +right, then? But is the old pony dead yet? And how's Dick the smith, and +Nancy? Grown a fine maid by now, I warrant. 'Slid, it seems half a life +that I've been away. + +“And you really thought of your poor cousin? Be sure that he, too, +thought of you, and offered up nightly his weak prayers for your safety +(doubtless, not without avail) to those saints, to whom would that +you--” + +“Halt there, coz. If they are half as good fellows as you and I take +them for, they'll help me without asking.” + +“They have helped you, Amyas.” + +“Maybe; I'd have done as much, I'm sure, for them, if I 'd been in their +place.” + +“And do you not feel, then, that you owe a debt of gratitude to them; +and, above all, to her, whose intercessions have, I doubt not, availed +for your preservation? Her, the star of the sea, the all-compassionate +guide of the mariner?” + +“Humph!” said Amyas. “Here's Frank; let him answer.” + +And, as he spoke, up came Frank, and after due greetings, sat down +beside them on the ridge. + +“I say, brother, here's Eustace trying already to convert me; and +telling me that I owe all my luck to the Blessed Virgin's prayers for +me. + +“It may be so,” said Frank; “at least you owe it to the prayers of that +most pure and peerless virgin by whose commands you sailed; the sweet +incense of whose orisons has gone up for you daily, and for whose sake +you were preserved from flood and foe, that you might spread the fame +and advance the power of the spotless championess of truth, and right, +and freedom,--Elizabeth, your queen.” + +Amyas answered this rhapsody, which would have been then both +fashionable and sincere, by a loyal chuckle. Eustace smiled meekly, but +answered somewhat venomously nevertheless-- + +“I, at least, am certain that I speak the truth, when I call my +patroness a virgin undefiled.” + +Both the brothers' brows clouded at once. Amyas, as he lay on his back +on the pebbles, said quietly to the gulls over his head--“I wonder what +the Frenchman whose head I cut off at the Azores, thinks by now about +all that.” + +“Cut off a Frenchman's head?” said Frank. + +“Yes, faith; and so fleshed my maiden sword. I'll tell you. It was +in some tavern; I and George Drake had gone in, and there sat this +Frenchman, with his sword on the table, ready for a quarrel (I found +afterwards he was a noted bully), and begins with us loudly enough about +this and that; but, after awhile, by the instigation of the devil, what +does he vent but a dozen slanders against her majesty's honor, one atop +of the other? I was ashamed to hear them, and I should be more ashamed +to repeat them.” + +“I have heard enough of such,” said Frank. “They come mostly through +lewd rascals about the French ambassador, who have been bred (God help +them) among the filthy vices of that Medicean Court in which the Queen +of Scots had her schooling; and can only perceive in a virtuous freedom +a cloak for licentiousness like their own. Let the curs bark; Honi soit +qui mal y pense is our motto, and shall be forever.” + +“But I didn't let the cur bark; for I took him by the ears, to show him +out into the street. Whereon he got to his sword, and I to mine; and a +very near chance I had of never bathing on the pebble ridge more; for +the fellow did not fight with edge and buckler, like a Christian, but +had some newfangled French devil's device of scryming and foining with +his point, ha'ing and stamping, and tracing at me, that I expected to be +full of eyelet holes ere I could close with him.” + +“Thank God that you are safe, then!” said Frank. “I know that play well +enough, and dangerous enough it is.” + +“Of course you know it; but I didn't, more's the pity.” + +“Well, I'll teach it thee, lad, as well as Rowland Yorke himself, + + 'Thy fincture, carricade, and sly passata, + Thy stramazon, and resolute stoccata, + Wiping maudritta, closing embrocata, + And all the cant of the honorable fencing mystery.'” + +“Rowland Yorke? Who's he, then?” + +“A very roystering rascal, who is making good profit in London just now +by teaching this very art of fence; and is as likely to have his mortal +thread clipt in a tavern brawl, as thy Frenchman. But how did you escape +his pinking iron?” + +“How? Had it through my left arm before I could look round; and at that +I got mad, and leapt upon him, and caught him by the wrist, and then had +a fair side-blow; and, as fortune would have it, off tumbled his head on +to the table, and there was an end of his slanders.” + +“So perish all her enemies!” said Frank; and Eustace, who had been +trying not to listen, rose and said-- + +“I trust that you do not number me among them?” + +“As you speak, I do, coz,” said Frank. “But for your own sake, let +me advise you to put faith in the true report of those who have daily +experience of their mistress's excellent virtue, as they have of the +sun's shining, and of the earth's bringing forth fruit, and not in the +tattle of a few cowardly back-stair rogues, who wish to curry favor with +the Guises. Come, we will say no more. Walk round with us by Appledore, +and then home to breakfast.” + +But Eustace declined, having immediate business, he said, in Northam +town, and then in Bideford; and so left them to lounge for another +half-hour on the beach, and then walk across the smooth sheet of turf to +the little white fishing village, which stands some two miles above the +bar, at the meeting of the Torridge and the Taw. + +Now it came to pass, that Eustace Leigh, as we have seen, told his +cousins that he was going to Northam: but he did not tell them that +his point was really the same as their own, namely, Appledore; and, +therefore, after having satisfied his conscience by going as far as the +very nearest house in Northam village, he struck away sharp to the left +across the fields, repeating I know not what to the Blessed Virgin all +the way; whereby he went several miles out of his road; and also, as +is the wont of crooked spirits, Jesuits especially (as three centuries +sufficiently testify), only outwitted himself. For his cousins going +merrily, like honest men, along the straight road across the turf, +arrived in Appledore, opposite the little “Mariner's Rest” Inn, just in +time to see what Eustace had taken so much trouble to hide from them, +namely, four of Mr. Thomas Leigh's horses standing at the door, held by +his groom, saddles and mail-bags on back, and mounting three of them, +Eustace Leigh and two strange gentlemen. + +“There's one lie already this morning,” growled Amyas; “he told us he +was going to Northam.” + +“And we do not know that he has not been there,” blandly suggested +Frank. + +“Why, you are as bad a Jesuit as he, to help him out with such a fetch.” + +“He may have changed his mind.” + +“Bless your pure imagination, my sweet boy,” said Amyas, laying his +great hand on Frank's head, and mimicking his mother's manner. “I +say, dear Frank, let's step into this shop and buy a penny-worth of +whipcord.” + +“What do you want with whipcord, man?” + +“To spin my top, to be sure.” + +“Top? how long hast had a top?” + +“I'll buy one, then, and save my conscience; but the upshot of this +sport I must see. Why may not I have an excuse ready made as well as +Master Eustace?” + +So saying, he pulled Frank into the little shop, unobserved by the party +at the inn-door. + +“What strange cattle has he been importing now? Look at that +three-legged fellow, trying to get aloft on the wrong side. How he claws +at his horse's ribs, like a cat scratching an elder stem!” + +The three-legged man was a tall, meek-looking person, who had bedizened +himself with gorgeous garments, a great feather, and a sword so long +and broad, that it differed little in size from the very thin and stiff +shanks between which it wandered uncomfortably. + +“Young David in Saul's weapons,” said Frank. “He had better not go in +them, for he certainly has not proved them.” + +“Look, if his third leg is not turned into a tail! Why does not some one +in charity haul in half-a-yard of his belt for him?” + +It was too true; the sword, after being kicked out three or four times +from its uncomfortable post between his legs, had returned unconquered; +and the hilt getting a little too far back by reason of the too great +length of the belt, the weapon took up its post triumphantly behind, +standing out point in air, a tail confest, amid the tittering of the +ostlers, and the cheers of the sailors. + +At last the poor man, by dint of a chair, was mounted safely, while his +fellow-stranger, a burly, coarse-looking man, equally gay, and rather +more handy, made so fierce a rush at his saddle, that, like “vaulting +ambition who o'erleaps his selle,” he “fell on t'other side:” or would +have fallen, had he not been brought up short by the shoulders of the +ostler at his off-stirrup. In which shock off came hat and feather. + +“Pardie, the bulldog-faced one is a fighting man. Dost see, Frank? he +has had his head broken.” + +“That scar came not, my son, but by a pair of most Catholic and +apostolic scissors. My gentle buzzard, that is a priest's tonsure.” + +“Hang the dog! O, that the sailors may but see it, and put him over the +quay head. I've a half mind to go and do it myself.” + +“My dear Amyas,” said Frank, laying two fingers on his arm, “these +men, whosoever they are, are the guests of our uncle, and therefore +the guests of our family. Ham gained little by publishing Noah's shame; +neither shall we, by publishing our uncle's.” + +“Murrain on you, old Franky, you never let a man speak his mind, and +shame the devil.” + +“I have lived long enough in courts, old Amyas, without a murrain on +you, to have found out, first, that it is not so easy to shame the +devil; and secondly, that it is better to outwit him; and the only way +to do that, sweet chuck, is very often not to speak your mind at all. +We will go down and visit them at Chapel in a day or two, and see if we +cannot serve these reynards as the badger did the fox, when he found him +in his hole, and could not get him out by evil savors.” + +“How then?” + +“Stuck a sweet nosegay in the door, which turned reynard's stomach at +once; and so overcame evil with good.” + +“Well, thou art too good for this world, that's certain; so we will go +home to breakfast. Those rogues are out of sight by now.” + +Nevertheless, Amyas was not proof against the temptation of going over +to the inn-door, and asking who were the gentlemen who went with Mr. +Leigh. + +“Gentlemen of Wales,” said the ostler, “who came last night in a pinnace +from Milford-haven, and their names, Mr. Morgan Evans and Mr. Evan +Morgans.” + +“Mr. Judas Iscariot and Mr. Iscariot Judas,” said Amyas between his +teeth, and then observed aloud, that the Welsh gentlemen seemed rather +poor horsemen. + +“So I said to Mr. Leigh's groom, your worship. But he says that those +parts be so uncommon rough and mountainous, that the poor gentlemen, you +see, being enforced to hunt on foot, have no such opportunities as young +gentlemen hereabout, like your worship; whom God preserve, and send a +virtuous lady, and one worthy of you.” + +“Thou hast a villainously glib tongue, fellow!” said Amyas, who was +thoroughly out of humor; “and a sneaking down visage too, when I come to +look at you. I doubt but you are a Papist too, I do!” + +“Well, sir! and what if I am! I trust I don't break the queen's laws by +that. If I don't attend Northam church, I pay my month's shilling for +the use of the poor, as the act directs; and beyond that, neither you +nor any man dare demand of me.” + +“Dare! act directs! You rascally lawyer, you! and whence does an ostler +like you get your shilling to pay withal? Answer me.” The examinate +found it so difficult to answer the question, that he suddenly became +afflicted with deafness. + +“Do you hear?” roared Amyas, catching at him with his lion's paw. + +“Yes, missus; anon, anon, missus!” quoth he to an imaginary landlady +inside, and twisting under Amyas's hand like an eel, vanished into the +house, while Frank got the hot-headed youth away. + +“What a plague is one to do, then? That fellow was a Papist spy!” + +“Of course he was!” said Frank. + +“Then, what is one to do, if the whole country is full of them?” + +“Not to make fools of ourselves about them, and so leave them to make +fools of themselves.” + +“That's all very fine: but--well, I shall remember the villain's face if +I see him again.” + +“There is no harm in that,” said Frank. + +“Glad you think so.” + +“Don't quarrel with me, Amyas, the first day.” + +“Quarrel with thee, my darling old fellow! I had sooner kiss the dust +off thy feet, if I were worthy of it. So now away home; my inside cries +cupboard.” + +In the meanwhile Messrs. Evans and Morgans were riding away, as fast +as the rough by-lanes would let them, along the fresh coast of the bay, +steering carefully clear of Northam town on the one hand, and on the +other, of Portledge, where dwelt that most Protestant justice of the +peace, Mr. Coffin. And it was well for them that neither Amyas Leigh, +nor indeed any other loyal Englishman, was by when they entered, as they +shortly did, the lonely woods which stretch along the southern wall of +the bay. For there Eustace Leigh pulled up short; and both he and his +groom, leaping from their horses, knelt down humbly in the wet grass, +and implored the blessing of the two valiant gentlemen of Wales, +who, having graciously bestowed it with three fingers apiece, became +thenceforth no longer Morgan Evans and Evan Morgans, Welshmen and +gentlemen; but Father Parsons and Father Gampian, Jesuits, and gentlemen +in no sense in which that word is applied in this book. + +After a few minutes, the party were again in motion, ambling steadily +and cautiously along the high table-land, towards Moorwinstow in the +west; while beneath them on the right, at the mouth of rich-wooded +glens, opened vistas of the bright blue bay, and beyond it the sandhills +of Braunton, and the ragged rocks of Morte; while far away to the north +and west the lonely isle of Lundy hung like a soft gray cloud. + +But they were not destined to reach their point as peaceably as they +could have wished. For just as they got opposite Clovelly dike, the huge +old Roman encampment which stands about midway in their journey, they +heard a halloo from the valley below, answered by a fainter one far +ahead. At which, like a couple of rogues (as indeed they were), Father +Campian and Father Parsons looked at each other, and then both stared +round at the wild, desolate, open pasture (for the country was then all +unenclosed), and the great dark furze-grown banks above their heads; and +Campian remarked gently to Parsons, that this was a very dreary spot, +and likely enough for robbers. + +“A likelier spot for us, Father,” said Eustace, punning. “The old Romans +knew what they were about when they put their legions up aloft here to +overlook land and sea for miles away; and we may thank them some day for +their leavings. The banks are all sound; there is plenty of good water +inside; and” (added he in Latin), “in case our Spanish friends--you +understand?” + +“Pauca verba, my son!” said Campian: but as he spoke, up from the ditch +close beside him, as if rising out of the earth, burst through the +furze-bushes an armed cavalier. + +“Pardon, gentlemen!” shouted he, as the Jesuit and his horse recoiled +against the groom. “Stand, for your lives!” + +“Mater caelorum!” moaned Campian; while Parsons, who, as all the world +knows, was a blustering bully enough (at least with his tongue), asked: +What a murrain right had he to stop honest folks on the queen's highway? +confirming the same with a mighty oath, which he set down as peccatum +veniale, on account of the sudden necessity; nay, indeed fraus pia, as +proper to support the character of that valiant gentleman of Wales, Mr. +Evan Morgans. But the horseman, taking no notice of his hint, dashed +across the nose of Eustace Leigh's horse, with a “Hillo, old lad! where +ridest so early?” and peering down for a moment into the ruts of the +narrow track-way, struck spurs into his horse, shouting, “A fresh +slot! right away for Hartland! Forward, gentlemen all! follow, follow, +follow!” + +“Who is this roysterer?” asked Parsons, loftily. + +“Will Cary, of Clovelly; an awful heretic: and here come more behind.” + +And as he spoke four or five more mounted gallants plunged in and out of +the great dikes, and thundered on behind the party; whose horses, quite +understanding what game was up, burst into full gallop, neighing and +squealing; and in another minute the hapless Jesuits were hurling along +over moor and moss after a “hart of grease.” + +Parsons, who, though a vulgar bully, was no coward, supported the +character of Mr. Evan Morgans well enough; and he would have really +enjoyed himself, had he not been in agonies of fear lest those precious +saddle-bags in front of him should break from their lashings, and +rolling to the earth, expose to the hoofs of heretic horses, perhaps to +the gaze of heretic eyes, such a cargo of bulls, dispensations, secret +correspondences, seditious tracts, and so forth, that at the very +thought of their being seen, his head felt loose upon his shoulders. But +the future martyr behind him, Mr. Morgan Evans, gave himself up at once +to abject despair, and as he bumped and rolled along, sought vainly for +comfort in professional ejaculations in the Latin tongue. + +“Mater intemerata! Eripe me e--Ugh! I am down! Adhaesit pavimento +venter!--No! I am not! El dilectum tuum e potestate canis--Ah! Audisti +me inter cornua unicornium! Put this, too, down in--ugh!--thy account in +favor of my poor--oh, sharpness of this saddle! Oh, whither, barbarous +islanders!” + +Now riding on his quarter, not in the rough track-way like a cockney, +but through the soft heather like a sportsman, was a very gallant knight +whom we all know well by this time, Richard Grenville by name; who had +made Mr. Cary and the rest his guests the night before, and then ridden +out with them at five o'clock that morning, after the wholesome early +ways of the time, to rouse a well-known stag in the glens at Buckish, by +help of Mr. Coffin's hounds from Portledge. Who being as good a Latiner +as Campian's self, and overhearing both the scraps of psalm and the +“barbarous islanders,” pushed his horse alongside of Mr. Eustace +Leigh, and at the first check said, with two low bows towards the two +strangers-- + +“I hope Mr. Leigh will do me the honor of introducing me to his guests. +I should be sorry, and Mr. Cary also, that any gentle strangers should +become neighbors of ours, even for a day, without our knowing who they +are who honor our western Thule with a visit; and showing them ourselves +all due requital for the compliment of their presence.” + +After which, the only thing which poor Eustace could do (especially as +it was spoken loud enough for all bystanders), was to introduce in due +form Mr. Evan Morgans and Mr. Morgan Evans, who, hearing the name, and, +what was worse, seeing the terrible face with its quiet searching eye, +felt like a brace of partridge-poults cowering in the stubble, with a +hawk hanging ten feet over their heads. + +“Gentlemen,” said Sir Richard blandly, cap in hand, “I fear that your +mails must have been somewhat in your way in this unexpected gallop. If +you will permit my groom, who is behind, to disencumber you of them +and carry them to Chapel, you will both confer an honor on me, and be +enabled yourselves to see the mort more pleasantly.” + +A twinkle of fun, in spite of all his efforts, played about good Sir +Richard's eye as he gave this searching hint. The two Welsh gentlemen +stammered out clumsy thanks; and pleading great haste and fatigue from +a long journey, contrived to fall to the rear and vanish with their +guides, as soon as the slot had been recovered. + +“Will!” said Sir Richard, pushing alongside of young Cary. + +“Your worship?” + +“Jesuits, Will!” + +“May the father of lies fly away with them over the nearest cliff!” + +“He will not do that while this Irish trouble is about. Those fellows +are come to practise here for Saunders and Desmond.” + +“Perhaps they have a consecrated banner in their bag, the scoundrels! +Shall I and young Coffin on and stop them? Hard if the honest men may +not rob the thieves once in a way.” + +“No; give the devil rope, and he will hang himself. Keep thy tongue at +home, and thine eyes too, Will.” + +“How then?” + +“Let Clovelly beach be watched night and day like any mousehole. No one +can land round Harty Point with these south-westers. Stop every fellow +who has the ghost of an Irish brogue, come he in or go he out, and send +him over to me.” + +“Some one should guard Bude-haven, sir.” + +“Leave that to me. Now then, forward, gentlemen all, or the stag will +take the sea at the Abbey.” + +And on they crashed down the Hartland glens, through the oak-scrub and +the great crown-ferns; and the baying of the slow-hound and the tantaras +of the horn died away farther and fainter toward the blue Atlantic, +while the conspirators, with lightened hearts, pricked fast across +Bursdon upon their evil errand. But Eustace Leigh had other thoughts +and other cares than the safety of his father's two mysterious guests, +important as that was in his eyes; for he was one of the many who had +drunk in sweet poison (though in his case it could hardly be called +sweet) from the magic glances of the Rose of Torridge. He had seen her +in the town, and for the first time in his life fallen utterly in love; +and now that she had come down close to his father's house, he looked on +her as a lamb fallen unawares into the jaws of the greedy wolf, which +he felt himself to be. For Eustace's love had little or nothing of +chivalry, self-sacrifice, or purity in it; those were virtues which were +not taught at Rheims. Careful as the Jesuits were over the practical +morality of their pupils, this severe restraint had little effect in +producing real habits of self-control. What little Eustace had learnt of +women from them, was as base and vulgar as the rest of their teaching. +What could it be else, if instilled by men educated in the schools of +Italy and France, in the age which produced the foul novels of Cinthio +and Bandello, and compelled Rabelais in order to escape the rack and +stake, to hide the light of his great wisdom, not beneath a bushel, but +beneath a dunghill; the age in which the Romish Church had made +marriage a legalized tyranny, and the laity, by a natural and pardonable +revulsion, had exalted adultery into a virtue and a science? That all +love was lust; that all women had their price; that profligacy, though +an ecclesiastical sin, was so pardonable, if not necessary, as to be +hardly a moral sin, were notions which Eustace must needs have gathered +from the hints of his preceptors; for their written works bear to this +day fullest and foulest testimony that such was their opinion; and that +their conception of the relation of the sexes was really not a whit +higher than that of the profligate laity who confessed to them. He +longed to marry Rose Salterne, with a wild selfish fury; but only that +he might be able to claim her as his own property, and keep all others +from her. Of her as a co-equal and ennobling helpmate; as one in whose +honor, glory, growth of heart and soul, his own were inextricably wrapt +up, he had never dreamed. Marriage would prevent God from being angry +with that, with which otherwise He might be angry; and therefore the +sanction of the Church was the more “probable and safe” course. But as +yet his suit was in very embryo. He could not even tell whether Rose +knew of his love; and he wasted miserable hours in maddening thoughts, +and tost all night upon his sleepless bed, and rose next morning fierce +and pale, to invent fresh excuses for going over to her uncle's house, +and lingering about the fruit which he dared not snatch. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE TWO WAYS OF BEING CROST IN LOVE + + “I could not love thee, dear, so much, + Loved I not honor more.”--LOVELACE. + +And what all this while has become of the fair breaker of so many +hearts, to whom I have not yet even introduced my readers? + +She was sitting in the little farm-house beside the mill, buried in the +green depths of the valley of Combe, half-way between Stow and Chapel, +sulking as much as her sweet nature would let her, at being thus +shut out from all the grand doings at Bideford, and forced to keep a +Martinmas Lent in that far western glen. So lonely was she, in fact, +that though she regarded Eustace Leigh with somewhat of aversion, and +(being a good Protestant) with a great deal of suspicion, she could not +find it in her heart to avoid a chat with him whenever he came down to +the farm and to its mill, which he contrived to do, on I know not what +would-be errand, almost every day. Her uncle and aunt at first looked +stiff enough at these visits, and the latter took care always to make a +third in every conversation; but still Mr. Leigh was a gentleman's +son, and it would not do to be rude to a neighboring squire and a good +customer; and Rose was the rich man's daughter and they poor cousins, +so it would not do either to quarrel with her; and besides, the +pretty maid, half by wilfulness, and half by her sweet winning tricks, +generally contrived to get her own way wheresoever she went; and +she herself had been wise enough to beg her aunt never to leave them +alone,--for she “could not a-bear the sight of Mr. Eustace, only +she must have some one to talk with down here.” On which her aunt +considered, that she herself was but a simple country-woman; and that +townsfolks' ways of course must be very different from hers; and that +people knew their own business best; and so forth, and let things go +on their own way. Eustace, in the meanwhile, who knew well that the +difference in creed between him and Rose was likely to be the very +hardest obstacle in the way of his love, took care to keep his private +opinions well in the background; and instead of trying to convert the +folk at the mill, daily bought milk or flour from them, and gave it +away to the old women in Moorwinstow (who agreed that after all, for +a Papist, he was a godly young man enough); and at last, having taken +counsel with Campian and Parsons on certain political plots then on +foot, came with them to the conclusion that they would all three go to +church the next Sunday. Where Messrs. Evan Morgans and Morgan Evans, +having crammed up the rubrics beforehand, behaved themselves in a most +orthodox and unexceptionable manner; as did also poor Eustace, to the +great wonder of all good folks, and then went home flattering himself +that he had taken in parson, clerk, and people; not knowing in his +simple unsimplicity, and cunning foolishness, that each good wife in the +parish was saying to the other, “He turned Protestant? The devil turned +monk! He's only after Mistress Salterne, the young hypocrite.” + +But if the two Jesuits found it expedient, for the holy cause in which +they were embarked, to reconcile themselves outwardly to the powers +that were, they were none the less busy in private in plotting their +overthrow. + +Ever since April last they had been playing at hide-and-seek through the +length and breadth of England, and now they were only lying quiet till +expected news from Ireland should give them their cue, and a great +“rising of the West” should sweep from her throne that stiff-necked, +persecuting, excommunicate, reprobate, illegitimate, and profligate +usurper, who falsely called herself the Queen of England. + +For they had as stoutly persuaded themselves in those days, as they +have in these (with a real Baconian contempt of the results of sensible +experience), that the heart of England was really with them, and that +the British nation was on the point of returning to the bosom of the +Catholic Church, and giving up Elizabeth to be led in chains to the feet +of the rightful Lord of Creation, the Old Man of the Seven Hills. +And this fair hope, which has been skipping just in front of them for +centuries, always a step farther off, like the place where the rainbow +touches the ground, they used to announce at times, in language which +terrified old Mr. Leigh. One day, indeed, as Eustace entered his +father's private room, after his usual visit to the mill, he could +hear voices high in dispute; Parsons as usual, blustering; Mr. Leigh +peevishly deprecating, and Campian, who was really the sweetest-natured +of men, trying to pour oil on the troubled waters. Whereat Eustace (for +the good of the cause, of course) stopped outside and listened. + +“My excellent sir,” said Mr. Leigh, “does not your very presence here +show how I am affected toward the holy cause of the Catholic faith? But +I cannot in the meanwhile forget that I am an Englishman.” + +“And what is England?” said Parsons: “A heretic and schismatic Babylon, +whereof it is written, 'Come out of her, my people, lest you be partaker +of her plagues.' Yea, what is a country? An arbitrary division of +territory by the princes of this world, who are naught, and come to +naught. They are created by the people's will; their existence depends +on the sanction of him to whom all power is given in heaven and +earth--our Holy Father the Pope. Take away the latter, and what is a +king?--the people who have made him may unmake him.” + +“My dear sir, recollect that I have sworn allegiance to Queen +Elizabeth!” + +“Yes, sir, you have, sir; and, as I have shown at large in my writings, +you were absolved from that allegiance from the moment that the bull of +Pius the Fifth declared her a heretic and excommunicate, and thereby to +have forfeited all dominion whatsoever. I tell you, sir, what I thought +you should have known already, that since the year 1569, England has had +no queen, no magistrates, no laws, no lawful authority whatsoever; and +that to own allegiance to any English magistrate, sir, or to plead in an +English court of law, is to disobey the apostolic precept, 'How dare you +go to law before the unbelievers?' I tell you, sir, rebellion is now not +merely permitted, it is a duty.” + +“Take care, sir; for God's sake, take care!” said Mr. Leigh. “Right or +wrong, I cannot have such language used in my house. For the sake of my +wife and children, I cannot!” + +“My dear brother Parsons, deal more gently with the flock,” interposed +Campian. “Your opinion, though probable, as I well know, in the eyes of +most of our order, is hardly safe enough here; the opposite is at least +so safe that Mr. Leigh may well excuse his conscience for accepting it. +After all, are we not sent hither to proclaim this very thing, and to +relieve the souls of good Catholics from a burden which has seemed to +them too heavy?” + +“Yes,” said Parsons, half-sulkily, “to allow all Balaams who will to +sacrifice to Baal, while they call themselves by the name of the Lord.” + +“My dear brother, have I not often reminded you that Naaman was allowed +to bow himself in the house of Rimmon? And can we therefore complain of +the office to which the Holy Father has appointed us, to declare to such +as Mr. Leigh his especial grace, by which the bull of Pius the Fifth +(on whose soul God have mercy!) shall henceforth bind the queen and the +heretics only; but in no ways the Catholics, at least as long as the +present tyranny prevents the pious purposes of the bull?” + +“Be it so, sir; be it so. Only observe this, Mr. Leigh, that our brother +Campian confesses this to be a tyranny. Observe, sir, that the bull does +still bind the so-called queen, and that she and her magistrates are +still none the less usurpers, nonentities, and shadows of a shade. And +observe this, sir, that when that which is lawful is excused to the +weak, it remains no less lawful to the strong. The seven thousand who +had not bowed the knee to Baal did not slay his priests; but Elijah did, +and won to himself a good reward. And if the rest of the children of +Israel sinned not in not slaying Eglon, yet Ehud's deed was none the +less justified by all laws human and divine.” + +“For Heaven's sake, do not talk so, sir! or I must leave the room. What +have I to do with Ehud and Eglon, and slaughters, and tyrannies? Our +queen is a very good queen, if Heaven would but grant her repentance, +and turn her to the true faith. I have never been troubled about +religion, nor any one else that I know of in the West country.” + +“You forget Mr. Trudgeon of Launceston, father, and poor Father Mayne,” + interposed Eustace, who had by this time slipped in; and Campian added +softly-- + +“Yes, your West of England also has been honored by its martyrs, as well +as my London by the precious blood of Story.” + +“What, young malapert?” cried poor Leigh, facing round upon his son, +glad to find any one on whom he might vent his ill-humor; “are you too +against me, with a murrain on you? And pray, what the devil brought +Cuthbert Mayne to the gallows, and turned Mr. Trudgeon (he was always a +foolish hot-head) out of house and home, but just such treasonable talk +as Mr. Parsons must needs hold in my house, to make a beggar of me and +my children, as he will before he has done.” + +“The Blessed Virgin forbid!” said Campian. + +“The Blessed Virgin forbid? But you must help her to forbid it, Mr. +Campian. We should never have had the law of 1571, against bulls, and +Agnus Deis, and blessed grains, if the Pope's bull of 1569 had not made +them matter of treason, by preventing a poor creature's saving his soul +in the true Church without putting his neck into a halter by denying the +queen's authority.” + +“What, sir?” almost roared Parsons, “do you dare to speak evil of the +edicts of the Vicar of Christ?” + +“I? No. I didn't. Who says I did? All I meant was, I am sure--Mr. +Campian, you are a reasonable man, speak for me.” + +“Mr. Leigh only meant, I am sure, that the Holy Father's prudent +intentions have been so far defeated by the perverseness and invincible +misunderstanding of the heretics, that that which was in itself meant +for the good of the oppressed English Catholics has been perverted to +their harm.” + +“And thus, reverend sir,” said Eustace, glad to get into his father's +good graces again, “my father attaches blame, not to the Pope--Heaven +forbid!--but to the pravity of his enemies.” + +“And it is for this very reason,” said Campian, “that we have brought +with us the present merciful explanation of the bull.” + +“I'll tell you what, gentlemen,” said Mr. Leigh, who, like other weak +men, grew in valor as his opponent seemed inclined to make peace, “I +don't think the declaration was needed. After the new law of 1571 was +made, it was never put in force till Mayne and Trudgeon made fools of +themselves, and that was full six years. There were a few offenders, +they say, who were brought up and admonished, and let go; but even that +did not happen down here, and need not happen now, unless you put my son +here (for you shall never put me, I warrant you) upon some deed which +had better be left alone, and so bring us all to shame.” + +“Your son, sir, if not openly vowed to God, has, I hope, a due sense +of that inward vocation which we have seen in him, and reverences his +spiritual fathers too well to listen to the temptations of his earthly +father.” + +“What, sir, will you teach my son to disobey me?” + +“Your son is ours also, sir. This is strange language in one who owes a +debt to the Church, which it was charitably fancied he meant to pay in +the person of his child.” + +These last words touched poor Mr. Leigh in a sore point, and breaking +all bounds, he swore roundly at Parsons, who stood foaming with rage. + +“A plague upon you, sir, and a black assizes for you, for you will come +to the gallows yet! Do you mean to taunt me in my own house with that +Hartland land? You had better go back and ask those who sent you where +the dispensation to hold the land is, which they promised to get me +years ago, and have gone on putting me off, till they have got my money, +and my son, and my conscience, and I vow before all the saints, seem now +to want my head over and above. God help me!”--and the poor man's eyes +fairly filled with tears. + +Now was Eustace's turn to be roused; for, after all, he was an +Englishman and a gentleman; and he said kindly enough, but firmly-- + +“Courage, my dearest father. Remember that I am still your son, and not +a Jesuit yet; and whether I ever become one, I promise you, will depend +mainly on the treatment which you meet with at the hands of these +reverend gentlemen, for whom I, as having brought them hither, must +consider myself as surety to you.” + +If a powder-barrel had exploded in the Jesuits' faces, they could not +have been more amazed. Campian looked blank at Parsons, and Parsons at +Campian; till the stouter-hearted of the two, recovering his breath at +last-- + +“Sir! do you know, sir, the curse pronounced on those who, after putting +their hand to the plough, look back?” + +Eustace was one of those impulsive men, with a lack of moral courage, +who dare raise the devil, but never dare fight him after he has been +raised; and he now tried to pass off his speech by winking and making +signs in the direction of his father, as much as to say that he was only +trying to quiet the old man's fears. But Campian was too frightened, +Parsons too angry, to take his hints: and he had to carry his part +through. + +“All I read is, Father Parsons, that such are not fit for the kingdom of +God; of which high honor I have for some time past felt myself unworthy. +I have much doubt just now as to my vocation; and in the meanwhile have +not forgotten that I am a citizen of a free country.” And so saying, he +took his father's arm, and walked out. + +His last words had hit the Jesuits hard. They had put the poor +cobweb-spinners in mind of the humiliating fact, which they have had +thrust on them daily from that time till now, and yet have never learnt +the lesson, that all their scholastic cunning, plotting, intriguing, +bulls, pardons, indulgences, and the rest of it, are, on this side +the Channel, a mere enchanter's cloud-castle and Fata Morgana, which +vanishes into empty air by one touch of that magic wand, the constable's +staff. “A citizen of a free country!”--there was the rub; and they +looked at each other in more utter perplexity than ever. At last Parsons +spoke. + +“There's a woman in the wind. I'll lay my life on it. I saw him blush up +crimson yesterday when his mother asked him whether some Rose Salterne +or other was still in the neighborhood.” + +“A woman! Well, the spirit may be willing, though the flesh be weak. We +will inquire into this. The youth may do us good service as a layman; +and if anything should happen to his elder brother (whom the saints +protect!) he is heir to some wealth. In the meanwhile, our dear brother +Parsons will perhaps see the expediency of altering our tactics somewhat +while we are here.” + +And thereupon a long conversation began between the two, who had been +sent together, after the wise method of their order, in obedience to the +precept, “Two are better than one,” in order that Campian might restrain +Parsons' vehemence, and Parsons spur on Campian's gentleness, and so +each act as the supplement of the other, and each also, it must be +confessed, gave advice pretty nearly contradictory to his fellow's if +occasion should require, “without the danger,” as their writers have it, +“of seeming changeable and inconsistent.” + +The upshot of this conversation was, that in a day or two (during which +time Mr. Leigh and Eustace also had made the amende honorable, and +matters went smoothly enough) Father Campian asked Father Francis, +the household chaplain, to allow him, as an especial favor, to hear +Eustace's usual confession on the ensuing Friday. + +Poor Father Francis dared not refuse so great a man; and assented with +an inward groan, knowing well that the intent was to worm out some +family secrets, whereby his power would be diminished, and the Jesuits' +increased. For the regular priesthood and the Jesuits throughout England +were toward each other in a state of armed neutrality, which wanted but +little at any moment to become open war, as it did in James the First's +time, when those meek missionaries, by their gentle moral tortures, +literally hunted to death the poor Popish bishop of Hippopotamus (that +is to say, London) for the time being. + +However, Campian heard Eustace's confession; and by putting to him such +questions as may be easily conceived by those who know anything about +the confessional, discovered satisfactorily enough, that he was what +Campian would have called “in love:” though I should question much +the propriety of the term as applied to any facts which poor prurient +Campian discovered, or indeed knew how to discover, seeing that a swine +has no eye for pearls. But he had found out enough: he smiled, and set +to work next vigorously to discover who the lady might be. + +If he had frankly said to Eustace, “I feel for you; and if your desires +are reasonable, or lawful, or possible, I will help you with all my +heart and soul,” he might have had the young man's secret heart, and +saved himself an hour's trouble; but, of course, he took instinctively +the crooked and suspicious method, expected to find the case the worst +possible,--as a man was bound to do who had been trained to take the +lowest possible view of human nature, and to consider the basest motives +as the mainspring of all human action,--and began his moral torture +accordingly by a series of delicate questions, which poor Eustace dodged +in every possible way, though he knew that the good father was too +cunning for him, and that he must give in at last. Nevertheless, like a +rabbit who runs squealing round and round before the weasel, into whose +jaws it knows that it must jump at last by force of fascination, he +parried and parried, and pretended to be stupid, and surprised, and +honorably scrupulous, and even angry; while every question as to her +being married or single, Catholic or heretic, English or foreign, +brought his tormentor a step nearer the goal. At last, when Campian, +finding the business not such a very bad one, had asked something about +her worldly wealth, Eustace saw a door of escape and sprang at it. + +“Even if she be a heretic, she is heiress to one of the wealthiest +merchants in Devon.” + +“Ah!” said Campian, thoughtfully. “And she is but eighteen, you say?” + +“Only eighteen.” + +“Ah! well, my son, there is time. She may be reconciled to the Church: +or you may change.” + +“I shall die first.” + +“Ah, poor lad! Well; she may be reconciled, and her wealth may be of use +to the cause of Heaven.” + +“And it shall be of use. Only absolve me, and let me be at peace. Let +me have but her,” he cried piteously. “I do not want her wealth,--not I! +Let me have but her, and that but for one year, one month, one day!--and +all the rest--money, fame, talents, yea, my life itself, hers if it be +needed--are at the service of Holy Church. Ay, I shall glory in showing +my devotion by some special sacrifice,--some desperate deed. Prove me +now, and see what there is I will not do!” + +And so Eustace was absolved; after which Campian added,-- + +“This is indeed well, my son: for there is a thing to be done now, but +it may be at the risk of life.” + +“Prove me!” cried Eustace, impatiently. + +“Here is a letter which was brought me last night; no matter from +whence; you can understand it better than I, and I longed to have shown +it you, but that I feared my son had become--” + +“You feared wrongly, then, my dear Father Campian.” + +So Campian translated to him the cipher of the letter. + +“This to Evan Morgans, gentleman, at Mr. Leigh's house in Moorwinstow, +Devonshire. News may be had by one who will go to the shore of Clovelly, +any evening after the 25th of November, at dead low tide, and there +watch for a boat, rowed by one with a red beard, and a Portugal by his +speech. If he be asked, 'How many?' he will answer, 'Eight hundred and +one.' Take his letters and read them. If the shore be watched, let him +who comes show a light three times in a safe place under the cliff +above the town; below is dangerous landing. Farewell, and expect great +things!” + +“I will go,” said Eustace; “to-morrow is the 25th, and I know a sure and +easy place. Your friend seems to know these shores well.” + +“Ah! what is it we do not know?” said Campian, with a mysterious smile. +“And now?” + +“And now, to prove to you how I trust to you, you shall come with me, +and see this--the lady of whom I spoke, and judge for yourself whether +my fault is not a venial one.” + +“Ah, my son, have I not absolved you already? What have I to do with +fair faces? Nevertheless, I will come, both to show you that I trust +you, and it may be to help towards reclaiming a heretic, and saving a +lost soul: who knows?” + +So the two set out together; and, as it was appointed, they had just got +to the top of the hill between Chapel and Stow mill, when up the lane +came none other than Mistress Rose Salterne herself, in all the glories +of a new scarlet hood, from under which her large dark languid eyes +gleamed soft lightnings through poor Eustace's heart and marrow. Up +to them she tripped on delicate ankles and tiny feet, tall, lithe, and +graceful, a true West-country lass; and as she passed them with a +pretty blush and courtesy, even Campian looked back at the fair innocent +creature, whose long dark curls, after the then country fashion, rolled +down from beneath the hood below her waist, entangling the soul of +Eustace Leigh within their glossy nets. + +“There!” whispered he, trembling from head to foot. “Can you excuse me +now?” + +“I had excused you long ago;” said the kindhearted father. “Alas, that +so much fair red and white should have been created only as a feast for +worms!” + +“A feast for gods, you mean!” cried Eustace, on whose common sense the +naive absurdity of the last speech struck keenly; and then, as if to +escape the scolding which he deserved for his heathenry-- + +“Will you let me return for a moment? I will follow you: let me go!” + +Campian saw that it was of no use to say no, and nodded. Eustace darted +from his side, and running across a field, met Rose full at the next +turn of the road. + +She started, and gave a pretty little shriek. + +“Mr. Leigh! I thought you had gone forward.” + +“I came back to speak to you, Rose--Mistress Salterne, I mean.” + +“To me?” + +“To you I must speak, tell you all, or die!” And he pressed up close to +her. She shrank back, somewhat frightened. + +“Do not stir; do not go, I implore you! Rose, only hear me!” And +fiercely and passionately seizing her by the hand, he poured out the +whole story of his love, heaping her with every fantastic epithet of +admiration which he could devise. + +There was little, perhaps, of all his words which Rose had not heard +many a time before; but there was a quiver in his voice, and a fire in +his eye, from which she shrank by instinct. + +“Let me go!” she said; “you are too rough, sir!” + +“Ay!” he said, seizing now both her hands, “rougher, perhaps, than the +gay gallants of Bideford, who serenade you, and write sonnets to you, +and send you posies. Rougher, but more loving, Rose! Do not turn away! +I shall die if you take your eyes off me! Tell me,--tell me, now +here--this moment--before we part--if I may love you!” + +“Go away!” she answered, struggling, and bursting into tears. “This is +too rude. If I am but a merchant's daughter. I am God's child. Remember +that I am alone. Leave me; go! or I will call for help!” + +Eustace had heard or read somewhere that such expressions in a woman's +mouth were mere facons de parler, and on the whole signs that she had no +objection to be alone, and did not intend to call for help; and he only +grasped her hands the more fiercely, and looked into her face with keen +and hungry eyes; but she was in earnest, nevertheless, and a loud shriek +made him aware that, if he wished to save his own good name, he must +go: but there was one question, for an answer to which he would risk his +very life. + +“Yes, proud woman! I thought so! Some one of those gay gallants has been +beforehand with me. Tell me who--” + +But she broke from him, and passed him, and fled down the lane. + +“Mark it!” cried he, after her. “You shall rue the day when you despised +Eustace Leigh! Mark it, proud beauty!” And he turned back to join +Campian, who stood in some trepidation. + +“You have not hurt the maiden, my son? I thought I heard a scream.” + +“Hurt her! No. Would God that she were dead, nevertheless, and I by her! +Say no more to me, father. We will home.” Even Campian knew enough of +the world to guess what had happened, and they both hurried home in +silence. + +And so Eustace Leigh played his move, and lost it. + +Poor little Rose, having run nearly to Chapel, stopped for very shame, +and walked quietly by the cottages which stood opposite the gate, and +then turned up the lane towards Moorwinstow village, whither she was +bound. But on second thoughts, she felt herself so “red and flustered,” + that she was afraid of going into the village, for fear (as she said to +herself) of making people talk, and so, turning into a by-path, struck +away toward the cliffs, to cool her blushes in the sea-breeze. And there +finding a quiet grassy nook beneath the crest of the rocks, she sat down +on the turf, and fell into a great meditation. + +Rose Salterne was a thorough specimen of a West-coast maiden, full of +passionate impulsive affections, and wild dreamy imaginations, a fit +subject, as the North-Devon women are still, for all romantic and gentle +superstitions. Left early without mother's care, she had fed her fancy +upon the legends and ballads of her native land, till she believed--what +did she not believe?--of mermaids and pixies, charms and witches, +dreams and omens, and all that world of magic in which most of the +countrywomen, and countrymen too, believed firmly enough but twenty +years ago. Then her father's house was seldom without some merchant, or +sea-captain from foreign parts, who, like Othello, had his tales of-- + + “Antres vast, and deserts idle, + Of rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads reach heaven.” + +And,-- + + “And of the cannibals that each other eat, + The anthropophagi, and men whose heads + Do grow beneath their shoulders.” + +All which tales, she, like Desdemona, devoured with greedy ears, +whenever she could “the house affairs with haste despatch.” And when +these failed, there was still boundless store of wonders open to her in +old romances which were then to be found in every English house of the +better class. The Legend of King Arthur, Florice and Blancheflour, Sir +Ysumbras, Sir Guy of Warwick, Palamon and Arcite, and the Romaunt of the +Rose, were with her text-books and canonical authorities. And lucky it +was, perhaps, for her that Sidney's Arcadia was still in petto, or Mr. +Frank (who had already seen the first book or two in manuscript, and +extolled it above all books past, present, or to come) would have surely +brought a copy down for Rose, and thereby have turned her poor little +flighty brains upside down forever. And with her head full of these, it +was no wonder if she had likened herself of late more than once to some +of those peerless princesses of old, for whose fair hand paladins and +kaisers thundered against each other in tilted field; and perhaps she +would not have been sorry (provided, of course, no one was killed) if +duels, and passages of arms in honor of her, as her father reasonably +dreaded, had actually taken place. + +For Rose was not only well aware that she was wooed, but found the said +wooing (and little shame to her) a very pleasant process. Not that she +had any wish to break hearts: she did not break her heart for any of her +admirers, and why should they break theirs for her? They were all very +charming, each in his way (the gentlemen, at least; for she had long +since learnt to turn up her nose at merchants and burghers); but one of +them was not so very much better than the other. + +Of course, Mr. Frank Leigh was the most charming; but then, as a +courtier and squire of dames, he had never given her a sign of real +love, nothing but sonnets and compliments, and there was no trusting +such things from a gallant, who was said (though, by the by, most +scandalously) to have a lady love at Milan, and another at Vienna, and +half-a-dozen in the Court, and half-a-dozen more in the city. + +And very charming was Mr. William Cary, with his quips and his jests, +and his galliards and lavoltas; over and above his rich inheritance; +but then, charming also Mr. Coffin of Portledge, though he were a little +proud and stately; but which of the two should she choose? It would be +very pleasant to be mistress of Clovelly Court; but just as pleasant to +find herself lady of Portledge, where the Coffins had lived ever since +Noah's flood (if, indeed, they had not merely returned thither after +that temporary displacement), and to bring her wealth into a family +which was as proud of its antiquity as any nobleman in Devon, and might +have made a fourth to that famous trio of Devonshire Cs, of which it is +written,-- + + “Crocker, Cruwys, and Copplestone, + When the Conqueror came were all at home.” + +And Mr. Hugh Fortescue, too--people said that he was certain to become a +great soldier--perhaps as great as his brother Arthur--and that would +be pleasant enough, too, though he was but the younger son of an +innumerable family: but then, so was Amyas Leigh. Ah, poor Amyas! Her +girl's fancy for him had vanished, or rather, perhaps, it was very much +what it always had been, only that four or five more girl's fancies +beside it had entered in, and kept it in due subjection. But still, she +could not help thinking a good deal about him, and his voyage, and the +reports of his great strength, and beauty, and valor, which had already +reached her in that out-of-the-way corner; and though she was not in the +least in love with him, she could not help hoping that he had at least +(to put her pretty little thought in the mildest shape) not altogether +forgotten her; and was hungering, too, with all her fancy, to give him +no peace till he had told her all the wonderful things which he had seen +and done in this ever-memorable voyage. So that, altogether, it was no +wonder, if in her last night's dream the figure of Amyas had been even +more forward and troublesome than that of Frank or the rest. + +But, moreover, another figure had been forward and troublesome enough in +last night's sleep-world; and forward and troublesome enough, too, now +in to-day's waking-world, namely, Eustace, the rejected. How strange +that she should have dreamt of him the night before! and dreamt, too, +of his fighting with Mr. Frank and Mr. Amyas! It must be a warning--see, +she had met him the very next day in this strange way; so the first half +of her dream had come true; and after what had past, she only had to +breathe a whisper, and the second part of the dream would come true +also. If she wished for a passage of arms in her own honor, she could +easily enough compass one: not that she would do it for worlds! And +after all, though Mr. Eustace had been very rude and naughty, yet still +it was not his own fault; he could not help being in love with her. +And--and, in short, the poor little maid felt herself one of the most +important personages on earth, with all the cares (or hearts) of the +country in her keeping, and as much perplexed with matters of weight as +ever was any Cleophila, or Dianeme, Fiordispina or Flourdeluce, in verse +run tame, or prose run mad. + +Poor little Rose! Had she but had a mother! But she was to learn her +lesson, such as it was, in another school. She was too shy (too proud +perhaps) to tell her aunt her mighty troubles; but a counsellor she must +have; and after sitting with her head in her hands, for half-an-hour +or more, she arose suddenly, and started off along the cliffs towards +Marsland. She would go and see Lucy Passmore, the white witch; Lucy knew +everything; Lucy would tell her what to do; perhaps even whom to marry. + +Lucy was a fat, jolly woman of fifty, with little pig-eyes, which +twinkled like sparks of fire, and eyebrows which sloped upwards and +outwards, like those of a satyr, as if she had been (as indeed she had) +all her life looking out of the corners of her eyes. Her qualifications +as white witch were boundless cunning, equally boundless good nature, +considerable knowledge of human weaknesses, some mesmeric power, some +skill in “yarbs,” as she called her simples, a firm faith in the virtue +of her own incantations, and the faculty of holding her tongue. By dint +of these she contrived to gain a fair share of money, and also (which +she liked even better) of power, among the simple folk for many miles +round. If a child was scalded, a tooth ached, a piece of silver was +stolen, a heifer shrew-struck, a pig bewitched, a young damsel crost in +love, Lucy was called in, and Lucy found a remedy, especially for the +latter complaint. Now and then she found herself on ticklish ground, for +the kind-heartedness which compelled her to help all distressed damsels +out of a scrape, sometimes compelled her also to help them into one; +whereon enraged fathers called Lucy ugly names, and threatened to send +her into Exeter gaol for a witch, and she smiled quietly, and hinted +that if she were “like some that were ready to return evil for evil, +such talk as that would bring no blessing on them that spoke it;” which +being translated into plain English, meant, “If you trouble me, I will +overlook (i. e. fascinate) you, and then your pigs will die, your horses +stray, your cream turn sour, your barns be fired, your son have St. +Vitus's dance, your daughter fits, and so on, woe on woe, till you are +very probably starved to death in a ditch, by virtue of this terrible +little eye of mine, at which, in spite of all your swearing and +bullying, you know you are now shaking in your shoes for fear. So you +had much better hold your tongue, give me a drink of cider, and leave +ill alone, lest you make it worse.” + +Not that Lucy ever proceeded to any such fearful extremities. On the +contrary, her boast, and her belief too, was, that she was sent into +the world to make poor souls as happy as she could, by lawful means, +of course, if possible, but if not--why, unlawful ones were better than +none; for she “couldn't a-bear to see the poor creatures taking on; +she was too, too tender-hearted.” And so she was, to every one but her +husband, a tall, simple-hearted rabbit-faced man, a good deal older than +herself. Fully agreeing with Sir Richard Grenville's great axiom, +that he who cannot obey cannot rule, Lucy had been for the last +five-and-twenty years training him pretty smartly to obey her, with the +intention, it is to be charitably hoped, of letting him rule her in +turn when his lesson was perfected. He bore his honors, however, meekly +enough, having a boundless respect for his wife's wisdom, and a firm +belief in her supernatural powers, and let her go her own way and earn +her own money, while he got a little more in a truly pastoral method +(not extinct yet along those lonely cliffs), by feeding a herd of some +dozen donkeys and twenty goats. The donkeys fetched, at each low-tide, +white shell-sand which was to be sold for manure to the neighboring +farmers; the goats furnished milk and “kiddy-pies;” and when there was +neither milking nor sand-carrying to be done, old Will Passmore just +sat under a sunny rock and watched the buck-goats rattle their horns +together, thinking about nothing at all, and taking very good care +all the while neither to inquire nor to see who came in and out of his +little cottage in the glen. + +The prophetess, when Rose approached her oracular cave, was seated on +a tripod in front of the fire, distilling strong waters out of +penny-royal. But no sooner did her distinguished visitor appear at the +hatch, than the still was left to take care of itself, and a clean +apron and mutch having been slipt on, Lucy welcomed Rose with endless +courtesies, and--“Bless my dear soul alive, who ever would have thought +to see the Rose of Torridge to my poor little place!” + +Rose sat down: and then? How to begin was more than she knew, and she +stayed silent a full five minutes, looking earnestly at the point of +her shoe, till Lucy, who was an adept in such cases, thought it best +to proceed to business at once, and save Rose the delicate operation +of opening the ball herself; and so, in her own way, half fawning, half +familiar-- + +“Well, my dear young lady, and what is it I can do for ye? For I guess +you want a bit of old Lucy's help, eh? Though I'm most mazed to see ye +here, surely. I should have supposed that pretty face could manage they +sort of matters for itself. Eh?” + +Rose, thus bluntly charged, confessed at once, and with many blushes and +hesitations, made her soon understand that what she wanted was “To have +her fortune told.” + +“Eh? Oh! I see. The pretty face has managed it a bit too well already, +eh? Tu many o' mun, pure fellows? Well, 'tain't every mayden has her +pick and choose, like some I know of, as be blest in love by stars +above. So you hain't made up your mind, then?” + +Rose shook her head. + +“Ah--well,” she went on, in a half-bantering tone. “Not so asy, is it, +then? One's gude for one thing, and one for another, eh? One has the +blood, and another the money.” + +And so the “cunning woman” (as she truly was), talking half to herself, +ran over all the names which she thought likely, peering at Rose all the +while out of the corners of her foxy bright eyes, while Rose stirred the +peat ashes steadfastly with the point of her little shoe, half angry, +half ashamed, half frightened, to find that “the cunning woman” had +guessed so well both her suitors and her thoughts about them, and tried +to look unconcerned at each name as it came out. + +“Well, well,” said Lucy, who took nothing by her move, simply because +there was nothing to take; “think over it--think over it, my dear life; +and if you did set your mind on any one--why, then--then maybe I might +help you to a sight of him.” + +“A sight of him?” + +“His sperrit, dear life, his sperrit only, I mane. I 'udn't have no +keeping company in my house, no, not for gowld untowld, I 'udn't; but +the sperrit of mun--to see whether mun would be true or not, you'd like +to know that, now, 'udn't you, my darling?” + +Rose sighed, and stirred the ashes about vehemently. + +“I must first know who it is to be. If you could show me that--now--” + +“Oh, I can show ye that, tu, I can. Ben there's a way to 't, a sure way; +but 'tis mortal cold for the time o' year, you zee.” + +“But what is it, then?” said Rose, who had in her heart been longing for +something of that very kind, and had half made up her mind to ask for a +charm. + +“Why, you'm not afraid to goo into the say by night for a minute, are +you? And to-morrow night would serve, too; 't will be just low tide to +midnight.” + +“If you would come with me perhaps--” + +“I'll come, I'll come, and stand within call, to be sure. Only do ye +mind this, dear soul alive, not to goo telling a crumb about mun, noo, +not for the world, or yu'll see naught at all, indeed, now. And beside, +there's a noxious business grow'd up against me up to Chapel there; and +I hear tell how Mr. Leigh saith I shall to Exeter gaol for a witch--did +ye ever hear the likes?--because his groom Jan saith I overlooked +mun--the Papist dog! And now never he nor th' owld Father Francis goo by +me without a spetting, and saying of their Ayes and Malificas--I do +know what their Rooman Latin do mane, zo well as ever they, I du!--and a +making o' their charms and incantations to their saints and idols! They +be mortal feared of witches, they Papists, and mortal hard on 'em, even +on a pure body like me, that doth a bit in the white way; 'case why you +see, dear life,” said she, with one of her humorous twinkles, “tu to a +trade do never agree. Do ye try my bit of a charm, now; do ye!” + +Rose could not resist the temptation; and between them both the charm +was agreed on, and the next night was fixed for its trial, on the +payment of certain current coins of the realm (for Lucy, of course, +must live by her trade); and slipping a tester into the dame's hand as +earnest, Rose went away home, and got there in safety. + +But in the meanwhile, at the very hour that Eustace had been prosecuting +his suit in the lane at Moorwinstow, a very different scene was being +enacted in Mrs. Leigh's room at Burrough. + +For the night before, Amyas, as he was going to bed, heard his brother +Frank in the next room tune his lute, and then begin to sing. And +both their windows being open, and only a thin partition between the +chambers, Amyas's admiring ears came in for every word of the following +canzonet, sung in that delicate and mellow tenor voice for which Frank +was famed among all fair ladies:-- + + “Ah, tyrant Love, Megaera's serpents bearing, + Why thus requite my sighs with venom'd smart? + Ah, ruthless dove, the vulture's talons wearing, + Why flesh them, traitress, in this faithful heart? + Is this my meed? Must dragons' teeth alone + In Venus' lawns by lovers' hands be sown? + + “Nay, gentlest Cupid; 'twas my pride undid me. + Nay, guiltless dove; by mine own wound I fell. + To worship, not to wed, Celestials bid me: + I dreamt to mate in heaven, and wake in hell; + Forever doom'd, Ixion-like, to reel + On mine own passions' ever-burning wheel.” + +At which the simple sailor sighed, and longed that he could write such +neat verses, and sing them so sweetly. How he would besiege the ear +of Rose Salterne with amorous ditties! But still, he could not be +everything; and if he had the bone and muscle of the family, it was but +fair that Frank should have the brains and voice; and, after all, he was +bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, and it was just the same as +if he himself could do all the fine things which Frank could do; for as +long as one of the family won honor, what matter which of them it was? +Whereon he shouted through the wall, “Good night, old song-thrush; I +suppose I need not pay the musicians.” + +“What, awake?” answered Frank. “Come in here, and lull me to sleep with +a sea-song.” + +So Amyas went in, and found Frank laid on the outside of his bed not yet +undrest. + +“I am a bad sleeper,” said he; “I spend more time, I fear, in burning +the midnight oil than prudent men should. Come and be my jongleur, +my minnesinger, and tell me about Andes, and cannibals, and the +ice-regions, and the fire-regions, and the paradises of the West.” + +So Amyas sat down, and told: but somehow, every story which he tried to +tell came round, by crooked paths, yet sure, to none other point than +Rose Salterne, and how he thought of her here and thought of her there, +and how he wondered what she would say if she had seen him in this +adventure, and how he longed to have had her with him to show her that +glorious sight, till Frank let him have his own way, and then out came +the whole story of the simple fellow's daily and hourly devotion to her, +through those three long years of world-wide wanderings. + +“And oh, Frank, I could hardly think of anything but her in the church +the other day, God forgive me! and it did seem so hard for her to be the +only face which I did not see--and have not seen her yet, either.” + +“So I thought, dear lad,” said Frank, with one of his sweetest smiles; +“and tried to get her father to let her impersonate the nymph of +Torridge.” + +“Did you, you dear kind fellow? That would have been too delicious.” + +“Just so, too delicious; wherefore, I suppose, it was ordained not to +be, that which was being delicious enough.” + +“And is she as pretty as ever?” + +“Ten times as pretty, dear lad, as half the young fellows round have +discovered. If you mean to win her and wear her (and God grant you may +fare no worse!) you will have rivals enough to get rid of.” + +“Humph!” said Amyas, “I hope I shall not have to make short work with +some of them.” + +“I hope not,” said Frank, laughing. “Now go to bed, and to-morrow +morning give your sword to mother to keep, lest you should be tempted to +draw it on any of her majesty's lieges.” + +“No fear of that, Frank; I am no swash-buckler, thank God; but if any +one gets in my way, I'll serve him as the mastiff did the terrier, +and just drop him over the quay into the river, to cool himself, or my +name's not Amyas.” + +And the giant swung himself laughing out of the room, and slept all +night like a seal, not without dreams, of course, of Rose Salterne. + +The next morning, according to his wont, he went into his mother's room, +whom he was sure to find up and at her prayers; for he liked to say his +prayers, too, by her side, as he used to do when he was a little boy. It +seemed so homelike, he said, after three years' knocking up and down +in no-man's land. But coming gently to the door, for fear of disturbing +her, and entering unperceived, beheld a sight which stopped him short. + +Mrs. Leigh was sitting in her chair, with her face bowed fondly down +upon the head of his brother Frank, who knelt before her, his face +buried in her lap. Amyas could see that his whole form was quivering +with stifled emotion. Their mother was just finishing the last words +of a well-known text,--“for my sake, and the Gospel's, shall receive a +hundred-fold in this present life, fathers, and mothers, and brothers, +and sisters.” + +“But not a wife!” interrupted Frank, with a voice stifled with sobs; +“that was too precious a gift for even Him to promise to those who gave +up a first love for His sake!” + +“And yet,” said he, after a moment's silence, “has He not heaped me with +blessings enough already, that I must repine and rage at His refusing me +one more, even though that one be--No, mother! I am your son, and God's; +and you shall know it, even though Amyas never does!” And he looked up +with his clear blue eyes and white forehead; and his face was as the +face of an angel. + +Both of them saw that Amyas was present, and started and blushed. His +mother motioned him away with her eyes, and he went quietly out, as one +stunned. Why had his name been mentioned? + +Love, cunning love, told him all at once. This was the meaning of last +night's canzonet! This was why its words had seemed to fit his own heart +so well! His brother was his rival. And he had been telling him all his +love last night. What a stupid brute he was! How it must have made poor +Frank wince! And then Frank had listened so kindly; even bid him God +speed in his suit. What a gentleman old Frank was, to be sure! No wonder +the queen was so fond of him, and all the Court ladies!--Why, if it +came to that, what wonder if Rose Salterne should be fond of him too? +Hey-day! “That would be a pretty fish to find in my net when I come to +haul it!” quoth Amyas to himself, as he paced the garden; and clutching +desperately hold of his locks with both hands, as if to hold his poor +confused head on its shoulders, he strode and tramped up and down the +shell-paved garden walks for a full half hour, till Frank's voice (as +cheerful as ever, though he more than suspected all) called him. + +“Come in to breakfast, lad; and stop grinding and creaking upon those +miserable limpets, before thou hast set every tooth in my head on edge!” + +Amyas, whether by dint of holding his head straight, or by higher means, +had got the thoughts of the said head straight enough by this time; and +in he came, and fell to upon the broiled fish and strong ale, with a +sort of fury, as determined to do his duty to the utmost in all matters +that day, and therefore, of course, in that most important matter of +bodily sustenance; while his mother and Frank looked at him, not without +anxiety and even terror, doubting what turn his fancy might have taken +in so new a case; at last-- + +“My dear Amyas, you will really heat your blood with all that strong +ale! Remember, those who drink beer, think beer.” + +“Then they think right good thoughts, mother. And in the meanwhile, +those who drink water, think water. Eh, old Frank? and here's your +health.” + +“And clouds are water,” said his mother, somewhat reassured by his +genuine good humor; “and so are rainbows; and clouds are angels' +thrones, and rainbows the sign of God's peace on earth.” + +Amyas understood the hint, and laughed. “Then I'll pledge Frank out +of the next ditch, if it please you and him. But first--I say--he must +hearken to a parable; a manner mystery, miracle play, I have got in +my head, like what they have at Easter, to the town-hall. Now then, +hearken, madam, and I and Frank will act.” And up rose Amyas, and shoved +back his chair, and put on a solemn face. + +Mrs. Leigh looked up, trembling; and Frank, he scarce knew why, rose. + +“No; you pitch again. You are King David, and sit still upon your +throne. David was a great singer, you know, and a player on the viols; +and ruddy, too, and of a fair countenance; so that will fit. Now, then, +mother, don't look so frightened. I am not going to play Goliath, for +all my cubits; I am to present Nathan the prophet. Now, David, hearken, +for I have a message unto thee, O King! + +“There were two men in one city, one rich, and the other poor: and the +rich man had many flocks and herds, and all the fine ladies in Whitehall +to court if he liked; and the poor man had nothing but--” + +And in spite of his broad honest smile, Amyas's deep voice began to +tremble and choke. + +Frank sprang up, and burst into tears: “Oh! Amyas, my brother, my +brother! stop! I cannot endure this. Oh, God! was it not enough to have +entangled myself in this fatal fancy, but over and above, I must meet +the shame of my brother's discovering it?” + +“What shame, then, I'd like to know?” said Amyas, recovering himself. +“Look here, brother Frank! I've thought it all over in the garden; and +I was an ass and a braggart for talking to you as I did last night. +Of course you love her! Everybody must; and I was a fool for not +recollecting that; and if you love her, your taste and mine agree, and +what can be better? I think you are a sensible fellow for loving her, +and you think me one. And as for who has her, why, you're the eldest; +and first come first served is the rule, and best to keep to it. +Besides, brother Frank, though I'm no scholar, yet I'm not so blind but +that I tell the difference between you and me; and of course your chance +against mine, for a hundred to one; and I am not going to be fool enough +to row against wind and tide too. I'm good enough for her, I hope; but +if I am, you are better, and the good dog may run, but it's the best +that takes the hare; and so I have nothing more to do with the matter +at all; and if you marry her, why, it will set the old house on its legs +again, and that's the first thing to be thought of, and you may just as +well do it as I, and better too. Not but that it's a plague, a horrible +plague!” went on Amyas, with a ludicrously doleful visage; “but so +are other things too, by the dozen; it's all in the day's work, as the +huntsman said when the lion ate him. One would never get through the +furze-croft if one stopped to pull out the prickles. The pig didn't +scramble out of the ditch by squeaking; and the less said the sooner +mended; nobody was sent into the world only to suck honey-pots. What +must be must, man is but dust; if you can't get crumb, you must fain +eat crust. So I'll go and join the army in Ireland, and get it out of +my head, for cannon balls fright away love as well as poverty does; and +that's all I've got to say.” Wherewith Amyas sat down, and returned to +the beer; while Mrs. Leigh wept tears of joy. + +“Amyas! Amyas!” said Frank; “you must not throw away the hopes of years, +and for me, too! Oh, how just was your parable! Ah! mother mine! to +what use is all my scholarship and my philosophy, when this dear simple +sailor-lad outdoes me at the first trial of courtesy!” + +“My children, my children, which of you shall I love best? Which of you +is the more noble? I thanked God this morning for having given me one +such son; but to have found that I possess two!” And Mrs. Leigh laid her +head on the table, and buried her face in her hands, while the generous +battle went on. + +“But, dearest Amyas!--” + +“But, Frank! if you don't hold your tongue, I must go forth. It +was quite trouble enough to make up one's mind, without having you +afterwards trying to unmake it again.” + +“Amyas! if you give her up to me, God do so to me, and more also, if I +do not hereby give her up to you!” + +“He had done it already--this morning!” said Mrs. Leigh, looking up +through her tears. “He renounced her forever on his knees before me! +only he is too noble to tell you so.” + +“The more reason I should copy him,” said Amyas, setting his lips, and +trying to look desperately determined, and then suddenly jumping up, +he leaped upon Frank, and throwing his arms round his neck, sobbed out, +“There, there, now! For God's sake, let us forget all, and think about +our mother, and the old house, and how we may win her honor before we +die! and that will be enough to keep our hands full, without fretting +about this woman and that.--What an ass I have been for years! instead +of learning my calling, dreaming about her, and don't know at this +minute whether she cares more for me than she does for her father's +'prentices!” + +“Oh, Amyas! every word of yours puts me to fresh shame! Will you believe +that I know as little of her likings as you do?” + +“Don't tell me that, and play the devil's game by putting fresh hopes +into me, when I am trying to kick them out. I won't believe it. If she +is not a fool, she must love you; and if she don't, why, be hanged if +she is worth loving!” + +“My dearest Amyas! I must ask you too to make no more such speeches to +me. All those thoughts I have forsworn.” + +“Only this morning; so there is time to catch them again before they are +gone too far.” + +“Only this morning,” said Frank, with a quiet smile: “but centuries have +passed since then.” + +“Centuries? I don't see many gray hairs yet.” + +“I should not have been surprised if you had, though,” answered Frank, +in so sad and meaning a tone that Amyas could only answer-- + +“Well, you are an angel!” + +“You, at least, are something even more to the purpose, for you are a +man!” + +And both spoke truth, and so the battle ended; and Frank went to his +books, while Amyas, who must needs be doing, if he was not to dream, +started off to the dockyard to potter about a new ship of Sir Richard's, +and forget his woes, in the capacity of Sir Oracle among the sailors. +And so he had played his move for Rose, even as Eustace had, and lost +her: but not as Eustace had. + + + +CHAPTER V + +CLOVELLY COURT IN THE OLDEN TIME + + “It was among the ways of good Queen Bess, + Who ruled as well as ever mortal can, sir, + When she was stogg'd, and the country in a mess, + She was wont to send for a Devon man, sir.” + + West Country Song. + +The next morning Amyas Leigh was not to be found. Not that he had gone +out to drown himself in despair, or even to bemoan himself “down by the +Torridge side.” He had simply ridden off, Frank found, to Sir Richard +Grenville at Stow: his mother at once divined the truth, that he was +gone to try for a post in the Irish army, and sent off Frank after him +to bring him home again, and make him at least reconsider himself. + +So Frank took horse and rode thereon ten miles or more: and then, as +there were no inns on the road in those days, or indeed in these, and +he had some ten miles more of hilly road before him, he turned down +the hill towards Clovelly Court, to obtain, after the hospitable humane +fashion of those days, good entertainment for man and horse from Mr. +Cary the squire. + +And when he walked self-invited, like the loud-shouting Menelaus, into +the long dark wainscoted hall of the court, the first object he beheld +was the mighty form of Amyas, who, seated at the long table, was +alternately burying his face in a pasty, and the pasty in his face, his +sorrows having, as it seemed, only sharpened his appetite, while young +Will Cary, kneeling on the opposite bench, with his elbows on the table, +was in that graceful attitude laying down the law fiercely to him in a +low voice. + +“Hillo! lad,” cried Amyas; “come hither and deliver me out of the hands +of this fire-eater, who I verily believe will kill me, if I do not let +him kill some one else.” + +“Ah! Mr. Frank,” said Will Cary, who, like all other young gentlemen of +these parts, held Frank in high honor, and considered him a very oracle +and cynosure of fashion and chivalry, “welcome here: I was just longing +for you, too; I wanted your advice on half-a-dozen matters. Sit down, +and eat. There is the ale.” + +“None so early, thank you.” + +“Ah no!” said Amyas, burying his head in the tankard, and then mimicking +Frank, “avoid strong ale o' mornings. It heats the blood, thickens +the animal spirits, and obfuscates the cerebrum with frenetical and +lymphatic idols, which cloud the quintessential light of the pure +reason. Eh? young Plato, young Daniel, come hither to judgment! And yet, +though I cannot see through the bottom of the tankard already, I can see +plain enough still to see this, that Will shall not fight.” + +“Shall I not, eh? who says that? Mr. Frank, I appeal to you, now; only +hear.” + +“We are in the judgment-seat,” said Frank, settling to the pasty. +“Proceed, appellant.” + +“Well, I was telling Amyas, that Tom Coffin, of Portledge; I will stand +him no longer.” + +“Let him be, then,” said Amyas; “he could stand very well by himself, +when I saw him last.” + +“Plague on you, hold your tongue. Has he any right to look at me as he +does, whenever I pass him?” + +“That depends on how he looks; a cat may look at a king, provided she +don't take him for a mouse.” + +“Oh, I know how he looks, and what he means too, and he shall stop, or I +will stop him. And the other day, when I spoke of Rose Salterne”--“Ah!” + groaned Frank, “Ate's apple again!”--“(never mind what I said) he burst +out laughing in my face; and is not that a fair quarrel? And what is +more, I know that he wrote a sonnet, and sent it to her to Stow by a +market woman. What right has he to write sonnets when I can't? It's not +fair play, Mr. Frank, or I am a Jew, and a Spaniard, and a Papist; it's +not!” And Will smote the table till the plates danced again. + +“My dear knight of the burning pestle, I have a plan, a device, a +disentanglement, according to most approved rules of chivalry. Let us +fix a day, and summon by tuck of drum all young gentlemen under the +age of thirty, dwelling within fifteen miles of the habitation of that +peerless Oriana.” + +“And all 'prentice-boys too,” cried Amyas, out of the pasty. + +“And all 'prentice-boys. The bold lads shall fight first, with good +quarterstaves, in Bideford Market, till all heads are broken; and the +head which is not broken, let the back belonging to it pay the penalty +of the noble member's cowardice. After which grand tournament, to which +that of Tottenham shall be but a flea-bite and a batrachomyomachy--” + +“Confound you, and your long words, sir,” said poor Will, “I know you +are flouting me.” + +“Pazienza, Signor Cavaliere; that which is to come is no flouting, but +bloody and warlike earnest. For afterwards all the young gentlemen +shall adjourn into a convenient field, sand, or bog--which last will be +better, as no man will be able to run away, if he be up to his knees +in soft peat: and there stripping to our shirts, with rapiers of equal +length and keenest temper, each shall slay his man, catch who catch can, +and the conquerors fight again, like a most valiant main of gamecocks +as we are, till all be dead, and out of their woes; after which the +survivor, bewailing before heaven and earth the cruelty of our Fair +Oriana, and the slaughter which her basiliscine eyes have caused, shall +fall gracefully upon his sword, and so end the woes of this our lovelorn +generation. Placetne Domini? as they used to ask in the Senate at +Oxford.” + +“Really,” said Cary, “this is too bad.” + +“So is, pardon me, your fighting Mr. Coffin with anything longer than a +bodkin.” + +“Bodkins are too short for such fierce Bobadils,” said Amyas; “they +would close in so near, that we should have them falling to fisticuffs +after the first bout.” + +“Then let them fight with squirts across the market-place; for by heaven +and the queen's laws, they shall fight with nothing else.” + +“My dear Mr. Cary,” went on Frank, suddenly changing his bantering tone +to one of the most winning sweetness, “do not fancy that I cannot feel +for you, or that I, as well as you, have not known the stings of love +and the bitterer stings of jealousy. But oh, Mr. Cary, does it not seem +to you an awful thing to waste selfishly upon your own quarrel that +divine wrath which, as Plato says, is the very root of all virtues, and +which has been given you, like all else which you have, that you may +spend it in the service of her whom all bad souls fear, and all virtuous +souls adore,--our peerless queen? Who dares, while she rules England, +call his sword or his courage his own, or any one's but hers? Are there +no Spaniards to conquer, no wild Irish to deliver from their oppressors, +that two gentlemen of Devon can find no better place to flesh their +blades than in each other's valiant and honorable hearts?” + +“By heaven!” cried Amyas, “Frank speaks like a book; and for me, I do +think that Christian gentlemen may leave love quarrels to bulls and +rams.” + +“And that the heir of Clovelly,” said Frank, smiling, “may find more +noble examples to copy than the stags in his own deer-park.” + +“Well,” said Will, penitently, “you are a great scholar, Mr. Frank, and +you speak like one; but gentlemen must fight sometimes, or where would +be their honor?” + +“I speak,” said Frank, a little proudly, “not merely as a scholar, +but as a gentleman, and one who has fought ere now, and to whom it has +happened, Mr. Cary, to kill his man (on whose soul may God have mercy); +but it is my pride to remember that I have never yet fought in my own +quarrel, and my trust in God that I never shall. For as there is nothing +more noble and blessed than to fight in behalf of those whom we love, +so to fight in our own private behalf is a thing not to be allowed to a +Christian man, unless refusal imports utter loss of life or honor; +and even then, it may be (though I would not lay a burden on any man's +conscience), it is better not to resist evil, but to overcome it with +good.” + +“And I can tell you, Will,” said Amyas, “I am not troubled with fear of +ghosts; but when I cut off the Frenchman's head, I said to myself, 'If +that braggart had been slandering me instead of her gracious majesty, I +should expect to see that head lying on my pillow every time I went to +bed at night.'” + +“God forbid!” said Will, with a shudder. “But what shall I do? for to +the market tomorrow I will go, if it were choke-full of Coffins, and a +ghost in each coffin of the lot.” + +“Leave the matter to me,” said Amyas. “I have my device, as well as +scholar Frank here; and if there be, as I suppose there must be, a +quarrel in the market to-morrow, see if I do not--” + +“Well, you are two good fellows,” said Will. “Let us have another +tankard in.” + +“And drink the health of Mr. Coffin, and all gallant lads of the North,” + said Frank; “and now to my business. I have to take this runaway youth +here home to his mother; and if he will not go quietly, I have orders to +carry him across my saddle.” + +“I hope your nag has a strong back, then,” said Amyas; “but I must go on +and see Sir Richard, Frank. It is all very well to jest as we have been +doing, but my mind is made up.” + +“Stop,” said Cary. “You must stay here tonight; first, for good +fellowship's sake; and next, because I want the advice of our Phoenix +here, our oracle, our paragon. There, Mr. Frank, can you construe that +for me? Speak low, though, gentlemen both; there comes my father; you +had better give me the letter again. Well, father, whence this morning?” + +“Eh, company here? Young men, you are always welcome, and such as you. +Would there were more of your sort in these dirty times! How is your +good mother, Frank, eh? Where have I been, Will? Round the house-farm, +to look at the beeves. That sheeted heifer of Prowse's is all wrong; +her coat stares like a hedgepig's. Tell Jewell to go up and bring her in +before night. And then up the forty acres; sprang two coveys, and picked +a leash out of them. The Irish hawk flies as wild as any haggard still, +and will never make a bird. I had to hand her to Tom, and take the +little peregrine. Give me a Clovelly hawk against the world, after +all; and--heigh ho, I am very hungry! Half-past twelve, and dinner not +served? What, Master Amyas, spoiling your appetite with strong ale? +Better have tried sack, lad; have some now with me.” + +And the worthy old gentleman, having finished his oration, settled +himself on a great bench inside the chimney, and put his hawk on a perch +over his head, while his cockers coiled themselves up close to the warm +peat-ashes, and his son set to work to pull off his father's boots, amid +sundry warnings to take care of his corns. + +“Come, Master Amyas, a pint of white wine and sugar, and a bit of a +shoeing-horn to it ere we dine. Some pickled prawns, now, or a rasher +off the coals, to whet you?” + +“Thank you,” quoth Amyas; “but I have drunk a mort of outlandish +liquors, better and worse, in the last three years, and yet never found +aught to come up to good ale, which needs neither shoeing-horn before +nor after, but takes care of itself, and of all honest stomachs too, I +think.” + +“You speak like a book, boy,” said old Cary; “and after all, what a +plague comes of these newfangled hot wines, and aqua vitaes, which have +come in since the wars, but maddening of the brains, and fever of the +blood?” + +“I fear we have not seen the end of that yet,” said Frank. “My friends +write me from the Netherlands that our men are falling into a swinish +trick of swilling like the Hollanders. Heaven grant that they may not +bring home the fashion with them.” + +“A man must drink, they say, or die of the ague, in those vile swamps,” + said Amyas. “When they get home here, they will not need it.” + +“Heaven grant it,” said Frank; “I should be sorry to see Devonshire +a drunken county; and there are many of our men out there with Mr. +Champernoun.” + +“Ah,” said Cary, “there, as in Ireland, we are proving her majesty's +saying true, that Devonshire is her right hand, and the young children +thereof like the arrows in the hand of the giant.” + +“They may well be,” said his son, “when some of them are giants +themselves, like my tall school-fellow opposite.” + +“He will be up and doing again presently, I'll warrant him,” said old +Cary. + +“And that I shall,” quoth Amyas. “I have been devising brave deeds; +and see in the distance enchanters to be bound, dragons choked, empires +conquered, though not in Holland.” + +“You do?” asked Will, a little sharply; for he had had a half suspicion +that more was meant than met the ear. + +“Yes,” said Amyas, turning off his jest again, “I go to what Raleigh +calls the Land of the Nymphs. Another month, I hope, will see me abroad +in Ireland.” + +“Abroad? Call it rather at home,” said old Cary; “for it is full of +Devon men from end to end, and you will be among friends all day long. +George Bourchier from Tawstock has the army now in Munster, and Warham +St. Leger is marshal; George Carew is with Lord Grey of Wilton (Poor +Peter Carew was killed at Glendalough); and after the defeat last year, +when that villain Desmond cut off Herbert and Price, the companies were +made up with six hundred Devon men, and Arthur Fortescue at their head; +so that the old county holds her head as proudly in the Land of Ire as +she does in the Low Countries and the Spanish Main.” + +“And where,” asked Amyas, “is Davils of Marsland, who used to teach me +how to catch trout, when I was staying down at Stow? He is in Ireland, +too, is he not?” + +“Ah, my lad,” said Mr. Cary, “that is a sad story. I thought all England +had known it.” + +“You forget, sir, I am a stranger. Surely he is not dead?” + +“Murdered foully, lad! Murdered like a dog, and by the man whom he had +treated as his son, and who pretended, the false knave! to call him +father.” + +“His blood is avenged?” said Amyas, fiercely. + +“No, by heaven, not yet! Stay, don't cry out again. I am getting +old--I must tell my story my own way. It was last July,--was it not, +Will?--Over comes to Ireland Saunders, one of those Jesuit foxes, as the +Pope's legate, with money and bulls, and a banner hallowed by the Pope, +and the devil knows what beside; and with him James Fitzmaurice, the +same fellow who had sworn on his knees to Perrott, in the church at +Kilmallock, to be a true liegeman to Queen Elizabeth, and confirmed it +by all his saints, and such a world of his Irish howling, that Perrott +told me he was fain to stop his own ears. Well, he had been practising +with the King of France, but got nothing but laughter for his pains, and +so went over to the Most Catholic King, and promises him to join Ireland +to Spain, and set up Popery again, and what not. And he, I suppose, +thinking it better that Ireland should belong to him than to the Pope's +bastard, fits him out, and sends him off on such another errand as +Stukely's,--though I will say, for the honor of Devon, if Stukely lived +like a fool, he died like an honest man.” + +“Sir Thomas Stukely dead too?” said Amyas. + +“Wait a while, lad, and you shall have that tragedy afterwards. Well, +where was I? Oh, Fitzmaurice and the Jesuits land at Smerwick, with +three ships, choose a place for a fort, bless it with their holy water, +and their moppings and their scourings, and the rest of it, to purify +it from the stain of heretic dominion; but in the meanwhile one of +the Courtenays,--a Courtenay of Haccombe, was it?--or a Courtenay of +Boconnock? Silence, Will, I shall have it in a minute--yes, a Courtenay +of Haccombe it was, lying at anchor near by, in a ship of war of his, +cuts out the three ships, and cuts off the Dons from the sea. John and +James Desmond, with some small rabble, go over to the Spaniards. Earl +Desmond will not join them, but will not fight them, and stands by to +take the winning side; and then in comes poor Davils, sent down by the +Lord Deputy to charge Desmond and his brothers, in the queen's name, to +assault the Spaniards. Folks say it was rash of his lordship: but I +say, what could be better done? Every one knows that there never was a +stouter or shrewder soldier than Davils; and the young Desmonds, I have +heard him say many a time, used to look on him as their father. But +he found out what it was to trust Englishmen turned Irish. Well, +the Desmonds found out on a sudden that the Dons were such desperate +Paladins, that it was madness to meddle, though they were five to one; +and poor Davils, seeing that there was no fight in them, goes back for +help, and sleeps that night at some place called Tralee. Arthur Carter +of Bideford, St. Leger's lieutenant, as stout an old soldier as Davils +himself, sleeps in the same bed with him; the lacquey-boy, who is now +with Sir Richard at Stow, on the floor at their feet. But in the dead of +night, who should come in but James Desmond, sword in hand, with a dozen +of his ruffians at his heels, each with his glib over his ugly face, +and his skene in his hand. Davils springs up in bed, and asks but this, +'What is the matter, my son?' whereon the treacherous villain, without +giving him time to say a prayer, strikes at him, naked as he was, +crying, 'Thou shalt be my father no longer, nor I thy son! Thou shalt +die!' and at that all the rest fall on him. The poor little lad (so he +says) leaps up to cover his master with his naked body, gets three or +four stabs of skenes, and so falls for dead; with his master and Captain +Carter, who were dead indeed--God reward them! After that the ruffians +ransacked the house, till they had murdered every Englishman in it, the +lacquey-boy only excepted, who crawled out, wounded as he was, through +a window; while Desmond, if you will believe it, went back, up to his +elbows in blood, and vaunted his deeds to the Spaniards, and asked +them--'There! Will you take that as a pledge that I am faithful to you?' +And that, my lad, was the end of Henry Davils, and will be of all who +trust to the faith of wild savages.” + +“I would go a hundred miles to see that Desmond hanged!” said Amyas, +while great tears ran down his face. “Poor Mr. Davils! And now, what is +the story of Sir Thomas?” + +“Your brother must tell you that, lad; I am somewhat out of breath.” + +“And I have a right to tell it,” said Frank, with a smile. “Do you know +that I was very near being Earl of the bog of Allen, and one of the +peers of the realm to King Buoncompagna, son and heir to his holiness +Pope Gregory the Thirteenth?” + +“No, surely!” + +“As I am a gentleman. When I was at Rome I saw poor Stukely often; and +this and more he offered me on the part (as he said) of the Pope, if I +would just oblige him in the two little matters of being reconciled to +the Catholic Church, and joining the invasion of Ireland.” + +“Poor deluded heretic,” said Will Cary, “to have lost an earldom for +your family by such silly scruples of loyalty!” + +“It is not a matter for jesting, after all,” said Frank; “but I saw Sir +Thomas often, and I cannot believe he was in his senses, so frantic was +his vanity and his ambition; and all the while, in private matters as +honorable a gentleman as ever. However, he sailed at last for Ireland, +with his eight hundred Spaniards and Italians; and what is more, I +know that the King of Spain paid their charges. Marquis Vinola--James +Buoncompagna, that is--stayed quietly at Rome, preferring that Stukely +should conquer his paternal heritage of Ireland for him while he took +care of the bona robas at home. I went down to Civita Vecchia to see +him off; and though his younger by many years, I could not but take +the liberty of entreating him, as a gentleman and a man of Devon, to +consider his faith to his queen and the honor of his country. There were +high words between us; God forgive me if I spoke too fiercely, for I +never saw him again.” + +“Too fiercely to an open traitor, Frank? Why not have run him through?” + +“Nay, I had no clean life for Sundays, Amyas; so I could not throw away +my week-day one; and as for the weal of England, I knew that it was +little he would damage it, and told him so. And at that he waxed utterly +mad, for it touched his pride, and swore that if the wind had not been +fair for sailing, he would have fought me there and then; to which I +could only answer, that I was ready to meet him when he would; and he +parted from me, saying, 'It is a pity, sir, I cannot fight you now; when +next we meet, it will be beneath my dignity to measure swords with you.' + +“I suppose he expected to come back a prince at least--Heaven knows; I +owe him no ill-will, nor I hope does any man. He has paid all debts now +in full, and got his receipt for them.” + +“How did he die, then, after all?” + +“On his voyage he touched in Portugal. King Sebastian was just sailing +for Africa with his new ally, Mohammed the Prince of Fez, to help King +Abdallah, and conquer what he could. He persuaded Stukely to go with +him. There were those who thought that he, as well as the Spaniards, had +no stomach for seeing the Pope's son King of Ireland. Others used to +say that he thought an island too small for his ambition, and must needs +conquer a continent--I know not why it was, but he went. They had heavy +weather in the passage; and when they landed, many of their soldiers +were sea-sick. Stukely, reasonably enough, counselled that they should +wait two or three days and recruit; but Don Sebastian was so mad for the +assault that he must needs have his veni, vidi, vici; and so ended with +a veni, vidi, perii; for he Abdallah, and his son Mohammed, all perished +in the first battle at Alcasar; and Stukely, surrounded and overpowered, +fought till he could fight no more, and then died like a hero with all +his wounds in front; and may God have mercy on his soul!” + +“Ah!” said Amyas, “we heard of that battle off Lima, but nothing about +poor Stukely.” + +“That last was a Popish prayer, Master Frank,” said old Mr. Cary. + +“Most worshipful sir, you surely would not wish God not to have mercy on +his soul?” + +“No--eh? Of course not: but that's all settled by now, for he is dead, +poor fellow.” + +“Certainly, my dear sir. And you cannot help being a little fond of him +still.” + +“Eh? why, I should be a brute if I were not. He and I were +schoolfellows, though he was somewhat the younger; and many a good +thrashing have I given him, and one cannot help having a tenderness for +a man after that. Beside, we used to hunt together in Exmoor, and have +royal nights afterward into Ilfracombe, when we were a couple of mad +young blades. Fond of him? Why, I would have sooner given my forefinger +than that he should have gone to the dogs thus.” + +“Then, my dear sir, if you feel for him still, in spite of all his +faults, how do you know that God may not feel for him still, in spite of +all his faults? For my part,” quoth Frank, in his fanciful way, “without +believing in that Popish Purgatory, I cannot help holding with Plato, +that such heroical souls, who have wanted but little of true greatness, +are hereafter by some strait discipline brought to a better mind; +perhaps, as many ancients have held with the Indian Gymnosophists, by +transmigration into the bodies of those animals whom they have resembled +in their passions; and indeed, if Sir Thomas Stukely's soul should now +animate the body of a lion, all I can say is that he would be a very +valiant and royal lion; and also doubtless become in due time heartily +ashamed and penitent for having been nothing better than a lion.” + +“What now, Master Frank? I don't trouble my head with such matters--I +say Stukely was a right good-hearted fellow at bottom; and if you plague +my head with any of your dialectics, and propositions, and college quips +and quiddities, you sha'n't have any more sack, sir. But here come the +knaves, and I hear the cook knock to dinner.” + +After a madrigal or two, and an Italian song of Master Frank's, all +which went sweetly enough, the ladies rose, and went. Whereon Will Cary, +drawing his chair close to Frank's, put quietly into his hand a dirty +letter. + +“This was the letter left for me,” whispered he, “by a country fellow +this morning. Look at it and tell me what I am to do.” + +Whereon Frank opened, and read-- + + “Mister Cary, be you wary + By deer park end to-night. + Yf Irish ffoxe com out of rocks + Grip and hold hym tight.” + +“I would have showed it my father,” said Will, “but--” + +“I verily believe it to be a blind. See now, this is the handwriting of +a man who has been trying to write vilely, and yet cannot. Look at +that B, and that G; their formae formativae never were begotten in a +hedge-school. And what is more, this is no Devon man's handiwork. We say +'to' and not 'by,' Will, eh? in the West country?” + +“Of course.” + +“And 'man,' instead of 'him'?” + +“True, O Daniel! But am I to do nothing therefore?” + +“On that matter I am no judge. Let us ask much-enduring Ulysses here; +perhaps he has not sailed round the world without bringing home a device +or two.” + +Whereon Amyas was called to counsel, as soon as Mr. Cary could be +stopped in a long cross-examination of him as to Mr. Doughty's famous +trial and execution. + +Amyas pondered awhile, thrusting his hands into his long curls; and +then-- + +“Will, my lad, have you been watching at the Deer Park End of late?” + +“Never.” + +“Where, then?” + +“At the town-beach.” + +“Where else? + +“At the town-head.” + +“Where else?” + +“Why, the fellow is turned lawyer! Above Freshwater.” + +“Where is Freshwater?” + +“Why, where the water-fall comes over the cliff, half-a-mile from the +town. There is a path there up into the forest.” + +“I know. I'll watch there to-night. Do you keep all your old haunts +safe, of course, and send a couple of stout knaves to the mill, to watch +the beach at the Deer Park End, on the chance; for your poet may be a +true man, after all. But my heart's faith is, that this comes just to +draw you off from some old beat of yours, upon a wild-goose chase. If +they shoot the miller by mistake, I suppose it don't much matter?” + +“Marry, no.” + + “'When a miller's knock'd on the head, + The less of flour makes the more of bread.'” + +“Or, again,” chimed in old Mr. Cary, “as they say in the North-- + + “'Find a miller that will not steal, + Or a webster that is leal, + Or a priest that is not greedy, + And lay them three a dead corpse by; + And by the virtue of them three, + The said dead corpse shall quicken'd be.'” + +“But why are you so ready to watch Freshwater to-night, Master Amyas?” + +“Because, sir, those who come, if they come, will never land at +Mouthmill; if they are strangers, they dare not; and if they are +bay's-men, they are too wise, as long as the westerly swell sets in. As +for landing at the town, that would be too great a risk; but Freshwater +is as lonely as the Bermudas; and they can beach a boat up under the +cliff at all tides, and in all weathers, except north and nor'west. I +have done it many a time, when I was a boy.” + +“And give us the fruit of your experience now in your old age, eh? Well, +you have a gray head on green shoulders, my lad; and I verily believe +you are right. Who will you take with you to watch?” + +“Sir,” said Frank, “I will go with my brother; and that will be enough.” + +“Enough? He is big enough, and you brave enough, for ten; but still, the +more the merrier.” + +“But the fewer, the better fare. If I might ask a first and last favor, +worshipful sir,” said Frank, very earnestly, “you would grant me two +things: that you would let none go to Freshwater but me and my brother; +and that whatsoever we shall bring you back shall be kept as secret as +the commonweal and your loyalty shall permit. I trust that we are not so +unknown to you, or to others, that you can doubt for a moment but that +whatsoever we may do will satisfy at once your honor and our own.” + +“My dear young gentleman, there is no need of so many courtier's words. +I am your father's friend, and yours. And God forbid that a Cary--for I +guess your drift--should ever wish to make a head or a heart ache; that +is, more than--” + +“Those of whom it is written, 'Though thou bray a fool in a mortar, yet +will not his folly depart from him,'” interposed Frank, in so sad a tone +that no one at the table replied; and few more words were exchanged, +till the two brothers were safe outside the house; and then-- + +“Amyas,” said Frank, “that was a Devon man's handiwork, nevertheless; it +was Eustace's handwriting.” + +“Impossible!” + +“No, lad. I have been secretary to a prince, and learnt to interpret +cipher, and to watch every pen-stroke; and, young as I am, I think that +I am not easily deceived. Would God I were! Come on, lad; and strike no +man hastily, lest thou cut off thine own flesh.” + +So forth the two went, along the park to the eastward, and past the +head of the little wood-embosomed fishing-town, a steep stair of houses +clinging to the cliff far below them, the bright slate roofs and white +walls glittering in the moonlight; and on some half-mile farther, along +the steep hill-side, fenced with oak wood down to the water's edge, by +a narrow forest path, to a point where two glens meet and pour their +streamlets over a cascade some hundred feet in height into the sea +below. By the side of this waterfall a narrow path climbs upward from +the beach; and here it was that the two brothers expected to meet the +messenger. + +Frank insisted on taking his station below Amyas. He said that he was +certain that Eustace himself would make his appearance, and that he +was more fit than Amyas to bring him to reason by parley; that if Amyas +would keep watch some twenty yards above, the escape of the messenger +would be impossible. Moreover, he was the elder brother, and the post of +honor was his right. So Amyas obeyed him, after making him promise that +if more than one man came up the path, he would let them pass him before +he challenged, so that both might bring them to bay at the same time. + +So Amyas took his station under a high marl bank, and, bedded in +luxuriant crown-ferns, kept his eye steadily on Frank, who sat down on +a little knoll of rock (where is now a garden on the cliff-edge) which +parts the path and the dark chasm down which the stream rushes to its +final leap over the cliff. + +There Amyas sat a full half-hour, and glanced at whiles from Frank to +look upon the scene around. Outside the southwest wind blew fresh and +strong, and the moonlight danced upon a thousand crests of foam; but +within the black jagged point which sheltered the town, the sea did +but heave, in long oily swells of rolling silver, onward into the black +shadow of the hills, within which the town and pier lay invisible, +save where a twinkling light gave token of some lonely fisher's wife, +watching the weary night through for the boat which would return with +dawn. Here and there upon the sea, a black speck marked a herring-boat, +drifting with its line of nets; and right off the mouth of the +glen, Amyas saw, with a beating heart, a large two-masted vessel +lying-to--that must be the “Portugal”! Eagerly he looked up the glen, +and listened; but he heard nothing but the sweeping of the wind across +the downs five hundred feet above, and the sough of the waterfall upon +the rocks below; he saw nothing but the vast black sheets of oak-wood +sloping up to the narrow blue sky above, and the broad bright hunter's +moon, and the woodcocks, which, chuckling to each other, hawked to and +fro, like swallows, between the tree-tops and the sky. + +At last he heard a rustle of the fallen leaves; he shrank closer and +closer into the darkness of the bank. Then swift light steps--not down +the path, from above, but upward, from below; his heart beat quick and +loud. And in another half-minute a man came in sight, within three yards +of Frank's hiding-place. + +Frank sprang out instantly. Amyas saw his bright blade glance in the +clear October moonlight. + +“Stand in the queen's name!” + +The man drew a pistol from under his cloak, and fired full in his face. +Had it happened in these days of detonators, Frank's chance had been +small; but to get a ponderous wheel-lock under weigh was a longer +business, and before the fizzing of the flint had ceased, Frank had +struck up the pistol with his rapier, and it exploded harmlessly over +his head. The man instantly dashed the weapon in his face and closed. + +The blow, luckily, did not take effect on that delicate forehead, but +struck him on the shoulder: nevertheless, Frank, who with all his grace +and agility was as fragile as a lily, and a very bubble of the earth, +staggered, and lost his guard, and before he could recover himself, +Amyas saw a dagger gleam, and one, two, three blows fiercely repeated. + +Mad with fury, he was with them in an instant. They were scuffling +together so closely in the shade that he was afraid to use his sword +point; but with the hilt he dealt a single blow full on the ruffian's +cheek. It was enough; with a hideous shriek, the fellow rolled over at +his feet, and Amyas set his foot on him, in act to run him through. + +“Stop! stay!” almost screamed Frank; “it is Eustace! our cousin +Eustace!” and he leant against a tree. + +Amyas sprang towards him: but Frank waved him off. + +“It is nothing--a scratch. He has papers: I am sure of it. Take them; +and for God's sake let him go!” + +“Villain! give me your papers!” cried Amyas, setting his foot once more +on the writhing Eustace, whose jaw was broken across. + +“You struck me foully from behind,” moaned he, his vanity and envy even +then coming out, in that faint and foolish attempt to prove Amyas not so +very much better a man. + +“Hound, do you think that I dare not strike you in front? Give me your +papers, letters, whatever Popish devilry you carry; or as I live, I will +cut off your head, and take them myself, even if it cost me the shame +of stripping your corpse. Give them up! Traitor, murderer! give them, I +say!” And setting his foot on him afresh, he raised his sword. + +Eustace was usually no craven: but he was cowed. Between agony and +shame, he had no heart to resist. Martyrdom, which looked so splendid +when consummated selon les regles on Tower Hill or Tyburn, before +pitying, or (still better) scoffing multitudes, looked a confused, +dirty, ugly business there in the dark forest; and as he lay, a stream +of moonlight bathed his mighty cousin's broad clear forehead, and his +long golden locks, and his white terrible blade, till he seemed, to +Eustace's superstitious eye, like one of those fair young St. Michaels +trampling on the fiend, which he had seen abroad in old German pictures. +He shuddered; pulled a packet from his bosom, and threw it from him, +murmuring, “I have not given it.” + +“Swear to me that these are all the papers which you have in cipher or +out of cipher. Swear on your soul, or you die!” + +Eustace swore. + +“Tell me, who are your accomplices?” + +“Never!” said Eustace. “Cruel! have you not degraded me enough already?” + and the wretched young man burst into tears, and hid his bleeding face +in his hands. + +One hint of honor made Amyas as gentle as a lamb. He lifted Eustace up, +and bade him run for his life. + +“I am to owe my life, then, to you?” + +“Not in the least; only to your being a Leigh. Go, or it will be worse +for you!” And Eustace went; while Amyas, catching up the precious +packet, hurried to Frank. He had fainted already, and his brother had +to carry him as far as the park before he could find any of the other +watchers. The blind, as far as they were concerned, was complete. They +had heard and seen nothing. Whosoever had brought the packet had landed +they knew not where; and so all returned to the court, carrying Frank, +who recovered gradually, having rather bruises than wounds; for his foe +had struck wildly, and with a trembling hand. + +Half-an-hour after, Amyas, Mr. Cary, and his son Will were in deep +consultation over the following epistle, the only paper in the packet +which was not in cipher:-- + + +“'DEAR BROTHER N. S. in Chto. et Ecclesia. + +“This is to inform you and the friends of the cause, that S. Josephus +has landed in Smerwick, with eight hundred valiant Crusaders, burning +with holy zeal to imitate last year's martyrs of Carrigfolium, and +to expiate their offences (which I fear may have been many) by the +propagation of our most holy faith. I have purified the fort (which they +are strenuously rebuilding) with prayer and holy water, from the stain +of heretical footsteps, and consecrated it afresh to the service of +Heaven, as the first-fruits of the isle of saints; and having displayed +the consecrated banner to the adoration of the faithful, have returned +to Earl Desmond, that I may establish his faith, weak as yet, by reason +of the allurements of this world: though since, by the valor of his +brother James, he that hindered was taken out of the way (I mean Davils +the heretic, sacrifice well-pleasing in the eyes of Heaven!), the young +man has lent a more obedient ear to my counsels. If you can do anything, +do it quickly, for a great door and effectual is opened, and there are +many adversaries. But be swift, for so do the poor lambs of the Church +tremble at the fury of the heretics, that a hundred will flee before one +Englishman. And, indeed, were it not for that divine charity toward +the Church (which covers the multitude of sins) with which they are +resplendent, neither they nor their country would be, by the carnal +judgment, counted worthy of so great labor in their behalf. For they +themselves are given much to lying, theft, and drunkenness, vain +babbling, and profane dancing and singing; and are still, as S. Gildas +reports of them, 'more careful to shroud their villainous faces in bushy +hair, than decently to cover their bodies; while their land (by +reason of the tyranny of their chieftains, and the continual wars and +plunderings among their tribes, which leave them weak and divided, +an easy prey to the myrmidons of the excommunicate and usurping +Englishwoman) lies utterly waste with fire, and defaced with corpses of +the starved and slain. But what are these things, while the holy virtue +of Catholic obedience still flourishes in their hearts? The Church cares +not for the conservation of body and goods, but of immortal souls. + +“If any devout lady shall so will, you may obtain from her liberality a +shirt for this worthless tabernacle, and also a pair of hose; for I am +unsavory to myself and to others, and of such luxuries none here has +superfluity; for all live in holy poverty, except the fleas, who have +that consolation in this world for which this unhappy nation, and those +who labor among them, must wait till the world to come.* + +“Your loving brother, + +“N. S.” + + * See note at end of chapter. + +“Sir Richard must know of this before daybreak,” cried old Cary. “Eight +hundred men landed! We must call out the Posse Comitatus, and sail with +them bodily. I will go myself, old as I am. Spaniards in Ireland? not a +dog of them must go home again.” + +“Not a dog of them,” answered Will; “but where is Mr. Winter and his +squadron?” + +“Safe in Milford Haven; a messenger must be sent to him too.” + +“I'll go,” said Amyas: “but Mr. Cary is right. Sir Richard must know all +first.” + +“And we must have those Jesuits.” + +“What? Mr. Evans and Mr. Morgans? God help us--they are at my uncle's! +Consider the honor of our family!” + +“Judge for yourself, my dear boy,” said old Mr. Cary, gently: “would +it not be rank treason to let these foxes escape, while we have this +damning proof against them?” + +“I will go myself, then.” + +“Why not? You may keep all straight, and Will shall go with you. Call a +groom, Will, and get your horse saddled, and my Yorkshire gray; he will +make better play with this big fellow on his back, than the little pony +astride of which Mr. Leigh came walking in (as I hear) this morning. As +for Frank, the ladies will see to him well enough, and glad enough, too, +to have so fine a bird in their cage for a week or two.” + +“And my mother?” + +“We'll send to her to-morrow by daybreak. Come, a stirrup cup to start +with, hot and hot. Now, boots, cloaks, swords, a deep pull and a warm +one, and away!” + +And the jolly old man bustled them out of the house and into their +saddles, under the broad bright winter's moon. + +“You must make your pace, lads, or the moon will be down before you are +over the moors.” And so away they went. + +Neither of them spoke for many a mile. Amyas, because his mind was fixed +firmly on the one object of saving the honor of his house; and Will, +because he was hesitating between Ireland and the wars, and Rose +Salterne and love-making. At last he spoke suddenly. + +“I'll go, Amyas.” + +“Whither?” + +“To Ireland with you, old man. I have dragged my anchor at last.” + +“What anchor, my lad of parables?” + +“See, here am I, a tall and gallant ship.” + +“Modest even if not true.” + +“Inclination, like an anchor, holds me tight.” + +“To the mud.” + +“Nay, to a bed of roses--not without their thorns.” + +“Hillo! I have seen oysters grow on fruit-trees before now, but never an +anchor in a rose-garden.” + +“Silence, or my allegory will go to noggin-staves.” + +“Against the rocks of my flinty discernment.” + +“Pooh--well. Up comes duty like a jolly breeze, blowing dead from the +northeast, and as bitter and cross as a northeaster too, and tugs +me away toward Ireland. I hold on by the rosebed--any ground in a +storm--till every strand is parted, and off I go, westward ho! to get my +throat cut in a bog-hole with Amyas Leigh.” + +“Earnest, Will?” + +“As I am a sinful man.” + +“Well done, young hawk of the White Cliff!” + +“I had rather have called it Gallantry Bower still, though,” said +Will, punning on the double name of the noble precipice which forms the +highest point of the deer park. + +“Well, as long as you are on land, you know it is Gallantry Bower still: +but we always call it White Cliff when you see it from the sea-board, as +you and I shall do, I hope, to-morrow evening.” + +“What, so soon?” + +“Dare we lose a day?” + +“I suppose not: heigh-ho!” + +And they rode on again in silence, Amyas in the meanwhile being not a +little content (in spite of his late self-renunciation) to find that one +of his rivals at least was going to raise the siege of the Rose garden +for a few months, and withdraw his forces to the coast of Kerry. + +As they went over Bursdon, Amyas pulled up suddenly. + +“Did you not hear a horse's step on our left?” + +“On our left--coming up from Welsford moor? Impossible at this time of +night. It must have been a stag, or a sownder of wild swine: or may be +only an old cow.” + +“It was the ring of iron, friend. Let us stand and watch.” + +Bursdon and Welsford were then, as now, a rolling range of dreary +moors, unbroken by tor or tree, or anything save few and far between +a world-old furze-bank which marked the common rights of some distant +cattle farm, and crossed then, not as now, by a decent road, but by a +rough confused track-way, the remnant of an old Roman road from Clovelly +dikes to Launceston. To the left it trended down towards a lower range +of moors, which form the watershed of the heads of Torridge; and thither +the two young men peered down over the expanse of bog and furze, which +glittered for miles beneath the moon, one sheet of frosted silver, in +the heavy autumn dew. + +“If any of Eustace's party are trying to get home from Freshwater, they +might save a couple of miles by coming across Welsford, instead of going +by the main track, as we have done.” So said Amyas, who though (luckily +for him) no “genius,” was cunning as a fox in all matters of tactic and +practic, and would have in these days proved his right to be considered +an intellectual person by being a thorough man of business. + +“If any of his party are mad, they'll try it, and be stogged till the +day of judgment. There are bogs in the bottom twenty feet deep. Plague +on the fellow, whoever he is, he has dodged us! Look there!” + +It was too true. The unknown horseman had evidently dismounted below, +and led his horse up on the other side of a long furze-dike; till coming +to the point where it turned away again from his intended course, he +appeared against the sky, in the act of leading his nag over a gap. + +“Ride like the wind!” and both youths galloped across furze and heather +at him; but ere they were within a hundred yards of him, he had leapt +again on his horse, and was away far ahead. + +“There is the dor to us, with a vengeance,” cried Cary, putting in the +spurs. + +“It is but a lad; we shall never catch him.” + +“I'll try, though; and do you lumber after as you can, old heavysides;” + and Cary pushed forward. + +Amyas lost sight of him for ten minutes, and then came up with him +dismounted, and feeling disconsolately at his horse's knees. + +“Look for my head. It lies somewhere about among the furze there; and +oh! I am as full of needles as ever was a pin-cushion.” + +“Are his knees broken?” + +“I daren't look. No, I believe not. Come along, and make the best of a +bad matter. The fellow is a mile ahead, and to the right, too.” + +“He is going for Moorwinstow, then; but where is my cousin?” + +“Behind us, I dare say. We shall nab him at least.” + +“Cary, promise me that if we do, you will keep out of sight, and let me +manage him.” + +“My boy, I only want Evan Morgans and Morgan Evans. He is but the cat's +paw, and we are after the cats themselves.” + +And so they went on another dreary six miles, till the land trended +downwards, showing dark glens and masses of woodland far below. + +“Now, then, straight to Chapel, and stop the foxes' earth? Or through +the King's Park to Stow, and get out Sir Richard's hounds, hue and cry, +and queen's warrant in proper form?” + +“Let us see Sir Richard first; and whatsoever he decides about my uncle, +I will endure as a loyal subject must.” + +So they rode through the King's Park, while Sir Richard's colts came +whinnying and staring round the intruders, and down through a rich +woodland lane five hundred feet into the valley, till they could hear +the brawling of the little trout-stream, and beyond, the everlasting +thunder of the ocean surf. + +Down through warm woods, all fragrant with dying autumn flowers, leaving +far above the keen Atlantic breeze, into one of those delicious Western +combes, and so past the mill, and the little knot of flower-clad +cottages. In the window of one of them a light was still burning. The +two young men knew well whose window that was; and both hearts beat +fast; for Rose Salterne slept, or rather seemed to wake, in that +chamber. + +“Folks are late in Combe to-night,” said Amyas, as carelessly as he +could. + +Cary looked earnestly at the window, and then sharply enough at Amyas; +but Amyas was busy settling his stirrup; and Cary rode on, unconscious +that every fibre in his companion's huge frame was trembling like his +own. + +“Muggy and close down here,” said Amyas, who, in reality, was quite +faint with his own inward struggles. + +“We shall be at Stow gate in five minutes,” said Cary, looking back and +down longingly as his horse climbed the opposite hill; but a turn of the +zigzag road hid the cottage, and the next thought was, how to effect an +entrance into Stow at three in the morning without being eaten by the +ban-dogs, who were already howling and growling at the sound of the +horse-hoofs. + +However, they got safely in, after much knocking and calling, through +the postern gate in the high west wall, into a mansion, the description +whereof I must defer to the next chapter, seeing that the moon has +already sunk into the Atlantic, and there is darkness over land and sea. + +Sir Richard, in his long gown, was soon downstairs in the hall; the +letter read, and the story told; but ere it was half finished-- + +“Anthony, call up a groom, and let him bring me a horse round. +Gentlemen, if you will excuse me five minutes, I shall be at your +service.” + +“You will not go alone, Richard?” asked Lady Grenville, putting her +beautiful face in its nightcoif out of an adjoining door. + +“Surely, sweet chuck, we three are enough to take two poor polecats of +Jesuits. Go in, and help me to boot and gird.” + +In half an hour they were down and up across the valley again, under the +few low ashes clipt flat by the sea-breeze which stood round the lonely +gate of Chapel. + +“Mr. Cary, there is a back path across the downs to Marsland; go and +guard that.” Cary rode off; and Sir Richard, as he knocked loudly at the +gate-- + +“Mr. Leigh, you see that I have consulted your honor, and that of your +poor uncle, by adventuring thus alone. What will you have me do now, +which may not be unfit for me and you?” + +“Oh, sir!” said Amyas, with tears in his honest eyes, “you have shown +yourself once more what you always have been--my dear and beloved master +on earth, not second even to my admiral Sir Francis Drake.” + +“Or the queen, I hope,” said Grenville, smiling, “but pocas palabras. +What will you do?” + +“My wretched cousin, sir, may not have returned--and if I might watch +for him on the main road--unless you want me with you.” + +“Richard Grenville can walk alone, lad. But what will you do with your +cousin?” + +“Send him out of the country, never to return; or if he refuses, run him +through on the spot.” + +“Go, lad.” And as he spoke, a sleepy voice asked inside the gate, “Who +was there?” + +“Sir Richard Grenville. Open, in the queen's name?” + +“Sir Richard? He is in bed, and be hanged to you. No honest folk come at +this hour of night.” + +“Amyas!” shouted Sir Richard. Amyas rode back. + +“Burst that gate for me, while I hold your horse.” + +Amyas leaped down, took up a rock from the roadside, such as Homer's +heroes used to send at each other's heads, and in an instant the door +was flat on the ground, and the serving-man on his back inside, while +Sir Richard quietly entering over it, like Una into the hut, told the +fellow to get up and hold his horse for him (which the clod, who knew +well enough that terrible voice, did without further murmurs), and then +strode straight to the front door. It was already opened. The household +had been up and about all along, or the noise at the entry had aroused +them. + +Sir Richard knocked, however, at the open door; and, to his +astonishment, his knock was answered by Mr. Leigh himself, fully +dressed, and candle in hand. + +“Sir Richard Grenville! What, sir! is this neighborly, not to say +gentle, to break into my house in the dead of night?” + +“I broke your outer door, sir, because I was refused entrance when I +asked in the queen's name. I knocked at your inner one, as I should +have knocked at the poorest cottager's in the parish, because I found +it open. You have two Jesuits here, sir! and here is the queen's warrant +for apprehending them. I have signed it with my own hand, and, moreover, +serve it now, with my own hand, in order to save you scandal--and it may +be, worse. I must have these men, Mr. Leigh.” + +“My dear Sir Richard--!” + +“I must have them, or I must search the house; and you would not put +either yourself or me to so shameful a necessity?” + +“My dear Sir Richard!--” + +“Must I, then, ask you to stand back from your own doorway, my dear +sir?” said Grenville. And then changing his voice to that fearful lion's +roar, for which he was famous, and which it seemed impossible that lips +so delicate could utter, he thundered, “Knaves, behind there! Back!” + +This was spoken to half-a-dozen grooms and serving-men, who, well armed, +were clustered in the passage. + +“What? swords out, you sons of cliff rabbits?” And in a moment, Sir +Richard's long blade flashed out also, and putting Mr. Leigh gently +aside, as if he had been a child, he walked up to the party, who +vanished right and left; having expected a cur dog, in the shape of a +parish constable, and come upon a lion instead. They were stout fellows +enough, no doubt, in a fair fight: but they had no stomach to be hanged +in a row at Launceston Castle, after a preliminary running through the +body by that redoubted admiral and most unpeaceful justice of the peace. + +“And now, my dear Mr. Leigh,” said Sir Richard, as blandly as ever, +“where are my men? The night is cold; and you, as well as I, need to be +in our beds.” + +“The men, Sir Richard--the Jesuits--they are not here, indeed.” + +“Not here, sir?” + +“On the word of a gentleman, they left my house an hour ago. Believe me, +sir, they did. I will swear to you if you need.” + +“I believe Mr. Leigh of Chapel's word without oaths. Whither are they +gone?” + +“Nay, sir--how can I tell? They are--they are, as I may say, fled, sir; +escaped.” + +“With your connivance; at least with your son's. Where are they gone?” + +“As I live, I do not know.” + +“Mr. Leigh--is this possible? Can you add untruth to that treason from +the punishment of which I am trying to shield you?” + +Poor Mr. Leigh burst into tears. + +“Oh! my God! my God! is it come to this? Over and above having the fear +and anxiety of keeping these black rascals in my house, and having to +stop their villainous mouths every minute, for fear they should hang me +and themselves, I am to be called a traitor and a liar in my old age, +and that, too, by Richard Grenville! Would God I had never been born! +Would God I had no soul to be saved, and I'd just go and drown care in +drink, and let the queen and the Pope fight it out their own way!” And +the poor old man sank into a chair, and covered his face with his hands, +and then leaped up again. + +“Bless my heart! Excuse me, Sir Richard--to sit down and leave you +standing. 'S life, sir, sorrow is making a hawbuck of me. Sit down, my +dear sir! my worshipful sir! or rather come with me into my room, and +hear a poor wretched man's story, for I swear before God the men are +fled; and my poor boy Eustace is not home either, and the groom tells me +that his devil of a cousin has broken his jaw for him; and his mother is +all but mad this hour past. Good lack! good lack!” + +“He nearly murdered his angel of a cousin, sir!” said Sir Richard, +severely. + +“What, sir? They never told me.” + +“He had stabbed his cousin Frank three times, sir, before Amyas, who is +as noble a lad as walks God's earth, struck him down. And in defence +of what, forsooth, did he play the ruffian and the swashbuckler, but to +bring home to your house this letter, sir, which you shall hear at your +leisure, the moment I have taken order about your priests.” And walking +out of the house he went round and called to Cary to come to him. + +“The birds are flown, Will,” whispered he. “There is but one chance for +us, and that is Marsland Mouth. If they are trying to take boat there, +you may be yet in time. If they are gone inland we can do nothing till +we raise the hue and cry to-morrow.” + +And Will galloped off over the downs toward Marsland, while Sir Richard +ceremoniously walked in again, and professed himself ready and happy to +have the honor of an audience in Mr. Leigh's private chamber. And as we +know pretty well already what was to be discussed therein, we had better +go over to Marsland Mouth, and, if possible, arrive there before Will +Cary: seeing that he arrived hot and swearing, half an hour too late. + + +Note.--I have shrunk somewhat from giving these and other sketches (true +and accurate as I believe them to be) of Ireland during Elizabeth's +reign, when the tyranny and lawlessness of the feudal chiefs had reduced +the island to such a state of weakness and barbarism, that it was +absolutely necessary for England either to crush the Norman-Irish +nobility, and organize some sort of law and order, or to leave Ireland +an easy prey to the Spaniards, or any other nation which should go to +war with us. The work was done--clumsily rather than cruelly; but wrongs +were inflicted, and avenged by fresh wrongs, and those by fresh again. +May the memory of them perish forever! It has been reserved for this +age, and for the liberal policy of this age, to see the last ebullitions +of Celtic excitability die out harmless and ashamed of itself, and +to find that the Irishman, when he is brought as a soldier under the +regenerative influence of law, discipline, self-respect, and loyalty, +can prove himself a worthy rival of the more stern Norse-Saxon warrior. +God grant that the military brotherhood between Irish and English, +which is the special glory of the present war, may be the germ of a +brotherhood industrial, political, and hereafter, perhaps, religious +also; and that not merely the corpses of heroes, but the feuds and +wrongs which have parted them for centuries, may lie buried, once and +forever, in the noble graves of Alma and Inkerman. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE COMBES OF THE FAR WEST + + “Far, far from hence + The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay + Among the green Illyrian hills, and there + The sunshine in the happy glens is fair, + And by the sea and in the brakes + The grass is cool, the sea-side air + Buoyant and fresh, the mountain flowers + More virginal and sweet than ours.” + + MATTHEW ARNOLD. + +And even such are those delightful glens, which cut the high table-land +of the confines of Devon and Cornwall, and opening each through its +gorge of down and rock, towards the boundless Western Ocean. Each is +like the other, and each is like no other English scenery. Each has its +upright walls, inland of rich oak-wood, nearer the sea of dark green +furze, then of smooth turf, then of weird black cliffs which range out +right and left far into the deep sea, in castles, spires, and wings +of jagged iron-stone. Each has its narrow strip of fertile meadow, its +crystal trout stream winding across and across from one hill-foot to the +other; its gray stone mill, with the water sparkling and humming round +the dripping wheel; its dark, rock pools above the tide mark, where the +salmon-trout gather in from their Atlantic wanderings, after each autumn +flood: its ridge of blown sand, bright with golden trefoil and crimson +lady's finger; its gray bank of polished pebbles, down which the +stream rattles toward the sea below. Each has its black field of jagged +shark's-tooth rock which paves the cove from side to side, streaked with +here and there a pink line of shell sand, and laced with white foam from +the eternal surge, stretching in parallel lines out to the westward, +in strata set upright on edge, or tilted towards each other at strange +angles by primeval earthquakes;--such is the “mouth”--as those coves are +called; and such the jaw of teeth which they display, one rasp of which +would grind abroad the timbers of the stoutest ship. To landward, +all richness, softness, and peace; to seaward, a waste and howling +wilderness of rock and roller, barren to the fisherman, and hopeless to +the shipwrecked mariner. + +In only one of these “mouths” is a landing for boats, made possible by +a long sea-wall of rock, which protects it from the rollers of the +Atlantic; and that mouth is Marsland, the abode of the White Witch, Lucy +Passmore; whither, as Sir Richard Grenville rightly judged, the Jesuits +were gone. But before the Jesuits came, two other persons were standing +on that lonely beach, under the bright October moon, namely, Rose +Salterne and the White Witch herself; for Rose, fevered with curiosity +and superstition, and allured by the very wildness and possible danger +of the spell, had kept her appointment; and, a few minutes before +midnight, stood on the gray shingle beach with her counsellor. + +“You be safe enough here to-night, miss. My old man is snoring sound +abed, and there's no other soul ever sets foot here o' nights, except +it be the mermaids now and then. Goodness, Father, where's our boat? It +ought to be up here on the pebbles.” + +Rose pointed to a strip of sand some forty yards nearer the sea, where +the boat lay. + +“Oh, the lazy old villain! he's been round the rocks after pollock this +evening, and never taken the trouble to hale the boat up. I'll trounce +him for it when I get home. I only hope he's made her fast where she is, +that's all! He's more plague to me than ever my money will be. O deary +me!” + +And the goodwife bustled down toward the boat, with Rose behind her. + +“Iss, 'tis fast, sure enough: and the oars aboard too! Well, I never! +Oh, the lazy thief, to leave they here to be stole! I'll just sit in the +boat, dear, and watch mun, while you go down to the say; for you must +be all alone to yourself, you know, or you'll see nothing. There's the +looking-glass; now go, and dip your head three times, and mind you don't +look to land or sea before you've said the words, and looked upon the +glass. Now, be quick, it's just upon midnight.” + +And she coiled herself up in the boat, while Rose went faltering down +the strip of sand, some twenty yards farther, and there slipping off her +clothes, stood shivering and trembling for a moment before she entered +the sea. + +She was between two walls of rock: that on her left hand, some twenty +feet high, hid her in deepest shade; that on her right, though much +lower, took the whole blaze of the midnight moon. Great festoons of live +and purple sea-weed hung from it, shading dark cracks and crevices, fit +haunts for all the goblins of the sea. On her left hand, the peaks of +the rock frowned down ghastly black; on her right hand, far aloft, the +downs slept bright and cold. + +The breeze had died away; not even a roller broke the perfect stillness +of the cove. The gulls were all asleep upon the ledges. Over all was a +true autumn silence; a silence which may be heard. She stood awed, and +listened in hope of a sound which might tell her that any living thing +beside herself existed. + +There was a faint bleat, as of a new-born lamb, high above her head; +she started and looked up. Then a wail from the cliffs, as of a child +in pain, answered by another from the opposite rocks. They were but the +passing snipe, and the otter calling to her brood; but to her they +were mysterious, supernatural goblins, come to answer to her call. +Nevertheless, they only quickened her expectation; and the witch had +told her not to fear them. If she performed the rite duly, nothing +would harm her: but she could hear the beating of her own heart, as she +stepped, mirror in hand, into the cold water, waded hastily, as far as +she dare, and then stopped aghast. + +A ring of flame was round her waist; every limb was bathed in lambent +light; all the multitudinous life of the autumn sea, stirred by her +approach, had flashed suddenly into glory;-- + + +“And around her the lamps of the sea nymphs, Myriad fiery globes, swam +heaving and panting, and rainbows, Crimson and azure and emerald, were +broken in star-showers, lighting Far through the wine-dark depths of the +crystal, the gardens of Nereus, Coral and sea-fan and tangle, the blooms +and the palms of the ocean.” + + +She could see every shell which crawled on the white sand at her feet, +every rock-fish which played in and out of the crannies, and stared at +her with its broad bright eyes; while the great palmate oarweeds which +waved along the chasm, half-seen in the glimmering water, seemed to +beckon her down with long brown hands to a grave amid their chilly +bowers. She turned to flee; but she had gone too far now to retreat; +hastily dipping her head three times, she hurried out to the sea-marge, +and looking through her dripping locks at the magic mirror, pronounced +the incantation-- + + “A maiden pure, here I stand, + Neither on sea, nor yet on land; + Angels watch me on either hand. + If you be landsman, come down the strand; + If you be sailor, come up the sand; + If you be angel, come from the sky, + Look in my glass, and pass me by; + Look in my glass, and go from the shore; + Leave me, but love me for evermore.” + +The incantation was hardly finished, her eyes were straining into the +mirror, where, as may be supposed, nothing appeared but the sparkle of +the drops from her own tresses, when she heard rattling down the pebbles +the hasty feet of men and horses. + +She darted into a cavern of the high rock, and hastily dressed herself: +the steps held on right to the boat. Peeping out, half-dead with terror, +she saw there four men, two of whom had just leaped from their horses, +and turning them adrift, began to help the other two in running the boat +down. + +Whereon, out of the stern sheets, arose, like an angry ghost, the portly +figure of Lucy Passmore, and shrieked in shrillest treble-- + +“Eh! ye villains, ye roogs, what do ye want staling poor folks' boats by +night like this?” + +The whole party recoiled in terror, and one turned to run up the beach, +shouting at the top of his voice, “'Tis a marmaiden--a marmaiden asleep +in Willy Passmore's boat!” + +“I wish it were any sich good luck,” she could hear Will say; “'tis my +wife, oh dear!” and he cowered down, expecting the hearty cuff which he +received duly, as the White Witch, leaping out of the boat, dared any +man to touch it, and thundered to her husband to go home to bed. + +The wily dame, as Rose well guessed, was keeping up this delay chiefly +to gain time for her pupil: but she had also more solid reasons for +making the fight as hard as possible; for she, as well as Rose, had +already discerned in the ungainly figure of one of the party the same +suspicious Welsh gentleman, on whose calling she had divined long +ago; and she was so loyal a subject as to hold in extreme horror her +husband's meddling with such “Popish skulkers” (as she called the whole +party roundly to their face)--unless on consideration of a very handsome +sum of money. In vain Parsons thundered, Campian entreated, Mr. Leigh's +groom swore, and her husband danced round in an agony of mingled fear +and covetousness. + +“No,” she cried, “as I am an honest woman and loyal! This is why you +left the boat down to the shoore, you old traitor, you, is it? To help +off sich noxious trade as this out of the hands of her majesty's quorum +and rotulorum? Eh? Stand back, cowards! Will you strike a woman?” + +This last speech (as usual) was merely indicative of her intention to +strike the men; for, getting out one of the oars, she swung it round and +round fiercely, and at last caught Father Parsons such a crack across +the shins, that he retreated with a howl. + +“Lucy, Lucy!” shrieked her husband, in shrillest Devon falsetto, “be you +mazed? Be you mazed, lass? They promised me two gold nobles before I'd +lend them the boot!” + +“Tu?” shrieked the matron, with a tone of ineffable scorn. “And do yu +call yourself a man?” + +“Tu nobles! tu nobles!” shrieked he again, hopping about at oar's +length. + +“Tu? And would you sell your soul under ten?” + +“Oh, if that is it,” cried poor Campian, “give her ten, give her +ten, brother Pars--Morgans, I mean; and take care of your shins, Offa +Cerbero, you know--Oh, virago! Furens quid faemina possit! Certainly she +is some Lamia, some Gorgon, some--” + +“Take that, for your Lamys and Gorgons to an honest woman!” and in +a moment poor Campian's thin legs were cut from under him, while the +virago, “mounting on his trunk astride,” like that more famous one on +Hudibras, cried, “Ten nobles, or I'll kep ye here till morning!” And the +ten nobles were paid into her hand. + +And now the boat, its dragon guardian being pacified, was run down to +the sea, and close past the nook where poor little Rose was squeezing +herself into the farthest and darkest corner, among wet sea-weed and +rough barnacles, holding her breath as they approached. + +They passed her, and the boat's keel was already in the water; Lucy had +followed them close, for reasons of her own, and perceiving close to the +water's edge a dark cavern, cunningly surmised that it contained Rose, +and planted her ample person right across its mouth, while she grumbled +at her husband, the strangers, and above all at Mr. Leigh's groom, to +whom she prophesied pretty plainly Launceston gaol and the gallows; +while the wretched serving-man, who would as soon have dared to leap off +Welcombe Cliff as to return railing for railing to the White Witch, in +vain entreated her mercy, and tried, by all possible dodging, to keep +one of the party between himself and her, lest her redoubted eye should +“overlook” him once more to his ruin. + +But the night's adventures were not ended yet; for just as the boat was +launched, a faint halloo was heard upon the beach, and a minute after, +a horseman plunged down the pebbles, and along the sand, and pulling his +horse up on its haunches close to the terrified group, dropped, rather +than leaped, from the saddle. + +The serving-man, though he dared not tackle a witch, knew well enough +how to deal with a swordsman; and drawing, sprang upon the newcomer, and +then recoiled-- + +“God forgive me, it's Mr. Eustace! Oh, dear sir, I took you for one of +Sir Richard's men! Oh, sir, you're hurt!” + +“A scratch, a scratch!” almost moaned Eustace. “Help me into the boat, +Jack. Gentlemen, I must with you.” + +“Not with us, surely, my dear son, vagabonds upon the face of the +earth?” said kind-hearted Campian. + +“With you, forever. All is over here. Whither God and the cause +lead”--and he staggered toward the boat. + +As he passed Rose, she saw his ghastly bleeding face, half bound up with +a handkerchief, which could not conceal the convulsions of rage, shame, +and despair, which twisted it from all its usual beauty. His eyes glared +wildly round--and once, right into the cavern. They met hers, so full, +and keen, and dreadful, that forgetting she was utterly invisible, the +terrified girl was on the point of shrieking aloud. + +“He has overlooked me!” said she, shuddering to herself, as she +recollected his threat of yesterday. + +“Who has wounded you?” asked Campian. + +“My cousin--Amyas--and taken the letter!” + +“The devil take him, then!” cried Parsons, stamping up and down upon the +sand in fury. + +“Ay, curse him--you may! I dare not! He saved me--sent me here!”--and +with a groan, he made an effort to enter the boat. + +“Oh, my dear young gentleman,” cried Lucy Passmore, her woman's heart +bursting out at the sight of pain, “you must not goo forth with a grane +wound like to that. Do ye let me just bind mun up--do ye now!” and she +advanced. + +Eustace thrust her back. + +“No! better bear it, I deserve it--devils! I deserve it! On board, or we +shall all be lost--William Cary is close behind me!” + +And at that news the boat was thrust into the sea, faster than ever it +went before, and only in time; for it was but just round the rocks, and +out of sight, when the rattle of Cary's horsehoofs was heard above. + +“That rascal of Mr. Leigh's will catch it now, the Popish villain!” said +Lucy Passmore, aloud. “You lie still there, dear life, and settle your +sperrits; you'm so safe as ever was rabbit to burrow. I'll see what +happens, if I die for it!” And so saying, she squeezed herself up +through a cleft to a higher ledge, from whence she could see what passed +in the valley. + +“There mun is! in the meadow, trying to catch the horses! There comes +Mr. Cary! Goodness, Father, how a rid'th! he's over wall already! Ron, +Jack! ron then! A'll get to the river! No, a wain't! Goodness, Father! +There's Mr. Cary cotched mun! A's down, a's down!” + +“Is he dead?” asked Rose, shuddering. + +“Iss, fegs, dead as nits! and Mr. Cary off his horse, standing +overthwart mun! No, a bain't! A's up now. Suspose he was hit wi' the +flat. Whatever is Mr. Cary tu? Telling wi' mun, a bit. Oh dear, dear, +dear!” + +“Has he killed him?” cried poor Rose. + +“No, fegs, no! kecking mun, kecking mun, so hard as ever was futeball! +Goodness, Father, who did ever? If a haven't kecked mun right into +river, and got on mun's horse and rod away!” + +And so saying, down she came again. + +“And now then, my dear life, us be better to goo hoom and get you sommat +warm. You'm mortal cold, I rackon, by now. I was cruel fear'd for ye: +but I kept mun off clever, didn't I, now?” + +“I wish--I wish I had not seen Mr. Leigh's face!” + +“Iss, dreadful, weren't it, poor young soul; a sad night for his poor +mother!” + +“Lucy, I can't get his face out of my mind. I'm sure he overlooked me.” + +“Oh then! who ever heard the like o' that? When young gentlemen do +overlook young ladies, tain't thikketheor aways, I knoo. Never you think +on it.” + +“But I can't help thinking of it,” said Rose. “Stop. Shall we go home +yet? Where's that servant?” + +“Never mind, he wain't see us, here under the hill. I'd much sooner to +know where my old man was. I've a sort of a forecasting in my inwards, +like, as I always has when aught's gwain to happen, as though I shuldn't +zee mun again, like, I have, miss. Well--he was a bedient old soul, +after all, he was. Goodness, Father! and all this while us have forgot +the very thing us come about! Who did you see?” + +“Only that face!” said Rose, shuddering. + +“Not in the glass, maid? Say then, not in the glass?” + +“Would to heaven it had been! Lucy, what if he were the man I was fated +to--” + +“He? Why, he's a praste, a Popish praste, that can't marry if he would, +poor wratch.” + +“He is none; and I have cause enough to know it!” And, for want of a +better confidant, Rose poured into the willing ears of her companion the +whole story of yesterday's meeting. + +“He's a pretty wooer!” said Lucy at last, contemptuously. “Be a brave +maid, then, be a brave maid, and never terrify yourself with his unlucky +face. It's because there was none here worthy of ye, that ye seed none +in glass. Maybe he's to be a foreigner, from over seas, and that's why +his sperit was so long a coming. A duke, or a prince to the least, I'll +warrant, he'll be, that carries off the Rose of Bideford.” + +But in spite of all the good dame's flattery, Rose could not wipe that +fierce face away from her eyeballs. She reached home safely, and crept +to bed undiscovered: and when the next morning, as was to be expected, +found her laid up with something very like a fever, from excitement, +terror, and cold, the phantom grew stronger and stronger before her, and +it required all her woman's tact and self-restraint to avoid betraying +by her exclamations what had happened on that fantastic night. After a +fortnight's weakness, however, she recovered and went back to Bideford: +but ere she arrived there, Amyas was far across the seas on his way to +Milford Haven, as shall be told in the ensuing chapters. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE TRUE AND TRAGICAL HISTORY OF MR. JOHN OXENHAM OF PLYMOUTH + + “The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew; + The furrow follow'd free; + We were the first that ever burst + Into that silent sea.” + + The Ancient Mariner. + +It was too late and too dark last night to see the old house at Stow. We +will look round us, then, this bright October day, while Sir Richard and +Amyas, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, are pacing up and down the +terraced garden to the south. Amyas has slept till luncheon, i. e. till +an hour ago: but Sir Richard, in spite of the bustle of last night, was +up and in the valley by six o'clock, recreating the valiant souls of +himself and two terrier dogs by the chase of sundry badgers. + +Old Stow House stands, or rather stood, some four miles beyond the +Cornish border, on the northern slope of the largest and loveliest of +those combes of which I spoke in the last chapter. Eighty years after +Sir Richard's time there arose there a huge Palladian pile, bedizened +with every monstrosity of bad taste, which was built, so the story runs, +by Charles the Second, for Sir Richard's great-grandson, the heir of +that famous Sir Bevil who defeated the Parliamentary troops at Stratton, +and died soon after, fighting valiantly at Lansdowne over Bath. But, +like most other things which owed their existence to the Stuarts, +it rose only to fall again. An old man who had seen, as a boy, the +foundation of the new house laid, lived to see it pulled down again, +and the very bricks and timber sold upon the spot; and since then the +stables have become a farm-house, the tennis-court a sheep-cote, the +great quadrangle a rick-yard; and civilization, spreading wave on +wave so fast elsewhere, has surged back from that lonely corner of the +land--let us hope, only for a while. + +But I am not writing of that great new Stow House, of the past glories +whereof quaint pictures still hang in the neighboring houses; nor of +that famed Sir Bevil, most beautiful and gallant of his generation, +on whom, with his grandfather Sir Richard, old Prince has his pompous +epigram-- + + “Where next shall famous Grenvil's ashes stand? + Thy grandsire fills the sea, and thou the land.” + +I have to deal with a simpler age, and a sterner generation; and with +the old house, which had stood there, in part at least, from gray and +mythic ages, when the first Sir Richard, son of Hamon Dentatus, Lord of +Carboyle, the grandson of Duke Robert, son of Rou, settled at Bideford, +after slaying the Prince of South-Galis, and the Lord of Glamorgan, and +gave to the Cistercian monks of Neath all his conquests in South Wales. +It was a huge rambling building, half castle, half dwelling-house, such +as may be seen still (almost an unique specimen) in Compton Castle +near Torquay, the dwelling-place of Humphrey Gilbert, Walter Raleigh's +half-brother, and Richard Grenville's bosom friend, of whom more +hereafter. On three sides, to the north, west, and south, the lofty +walls of the old ballium still stood, with their machicolated turrets, +loopholes, and dark downward crannies for dropping stones and fire on +the besiegers, the relics of a more unsettled age: but the southern +court of the ballium had become a flower-garden, with quaint terraces, +statues, knots of flowers, clipped yews and hollies, and all the +pedantries of the topiarian art. And toward the east, where the vista +of the valley opened, the old walls were gone, and the frowning Norman +keep, ruined in the Wars of the Roses, had been replaced by the rich +and stately architecture of the Tudors. Altogether, the house, like the +time, was in a transitionary state, and represented faithfully enough +the passage of the old middle age into the new life which had just burst +into blossom throughout Europe, never, let us pray, to see its autumn or +its winter. + +From the house on three sides, the hill sloped steeply down, and the +garden where Sir Richard and Amyas were walking gave a truly English +prospect. At one turn they could catch, over the western walls, a +glimpse of the blue ocean flecked with passing sails; and at the next, +spread far below them, range on range of fertile park, stately avenue, +yellow autumn woodland, and purple heather moors, lapping over and over +each other up the valley to the old British earthwork, which stood black +and furze-grown on its conical peak; and standing out against the sky on +the highest bank of hill which closed the valley to the east, the lofty +tower of Kilkhampton church, rich with the monuments and offerings of +five centuries of Grenvilles. A yellow eastern haze hung soft over park, +and wood, and moor; the red cattle lowed to each other as they stood +brushing away the flies in the rivulet far below; the colts in the +horse-park close on their right whinnied as they played together, and +their sires from the Queen's Park, on the opposite hill, answered them +in fuller though fainter voices. A rutting stag made the still woodland +rattle with his hoarse thunder, and a rival far up the valley gave back +a trumpet note of defiance, and was himself defied from heathery brows +which quivered far away above, half seen through the veil of eastern +mist. And close at home, upon the terrace before the house, amid romping +spaniels and golden-haired children, sat Lady Grenville herself, the +beautiful St. Leger of Annery, the central jewel of all that glorious +place, and looked down at her noble children, and then up at her more +noble husband, and round at that broad paradise of the West, till life +seemed too full of happiness, and heaven of light. + +And all the while up and down paced Amyas and Sir Richard, talking long, +earnestly, and slow; for they both knew that the turning point of the +boy's life was come. + +“Yes,” said Sir Richard, after Amyas, in his blunt simple way, had told +him the whole story about Rose Salterne and his brother,--“yes, sweet +lad, thou hast chosen the better part, thou and thy brother also, and it +shall not be taken from you. Only be strong, lad, and trust in God that +He will make a man of you.” + +“I do trust,” said Amyas. + +“Thank God,” said Sir Richard, “that you have yourself taken from my +heart that which was my great anxiety for you, from the day that your +good father, who sleeps in peace, committed you to my hands. For all +best things, Amyas, become, when misused, the very worst; and the love +of woman, because it is able to lift man's soul to the heavens, is also +able to drag him down to hell. But you have learnt better, Amyas; and +know, with our old German forefathers, that, as Tacitus saith, Sera +juvenum Venus, ideoque inexhausta pubertas. And not only that, Amyas; +but trust me, that silly fashion of the French and Italians, to be +hanging ever at some woman's apron string, so that no boy shall count +himself a man unless he can vagghezziare le donne, whether maids or +wives, alas! matters little; that fashion, I say, is little less hurtful +to the soul than open sin; for by it are bred vanity and expense, envy +and heart-burning, yea, hatred and murder often; and even if that be +escaped, yet the rich treasure of a manly worship, which should be kept +for one alone, is squandered and parted upon many, and the bride at last +comes in for nothing but the very last leavings and caput mortuum of +her bridegroom's heart, and becomes a mere ornament for his table, and +a means whereby he may obtain a progeny. May God, who has saved me from +that death in life, save you also!” And as he spoke, he looked down +toward his wife upon the terrace below; and she, as if guessing +instinctively that he was talking of her, looked up with so sweet +a smile, that Sir Richard's stern face melted into a very glory of +spiritual sunshine. + +Amyas looked at them both and sighed; and then turning the conversation +suddenly-- + +“And I may go to Ireland to-morrow?” + +“You shall sail in the 'Mary' for Milford Haven, with these letters to +Winter. If the wind serves, you may bid the master drop down the river +tonight, and be off; for we must lose no time.” + +“Winter?” said Amyas. “He is no friend of mine, since he left Drake and +us so cowardly at the Straits of Magellan.” + +“Duty must not wait for private quarrels, even though they be just ones, +lad: but he will not be your general. When you come to the marshal, or +the Lord Deputy, give either of them this letter, and they will set you +work,--and hard work too, I warrant. + +“I want nothing better.” + +“Right, lad; the best reward for having wrought well already, is to have +more to do; and he that has been faithful over a few things, must find +his account in being made ruler over many things. That is the true and +heroical rest, which only is worthy of gentlemen and sons of God. As for +those who, either in this world or the world to come, look for idleness, +and hope that God shall feed them with pleasant things, as it were with +a spoon, Amyas, I count them cowards and base, even though they call +themselves saints and elect.” + +“I wish you could persuade my poor cousin of that.” + +“He has yet to learn what losing his life to save it means, Amyas. Bad +men have taught him (and I fear these Anabaptists and Puritans at home +teach little else), that it is the one great business of every one to +save his own soul after he dies; every one for himself; and that that, +and not divine self-sacrifice, is the one thing needful, and the better +part which Mary chose.” + +“I think men are inclined enough already to be selfish, without being +taught that.” + +“Right, lad. For me, if I could hang up such a teacher on high as an +enemy of mankind, and a corrupter of youth, I would do it gladly. Is +there not cowardice and self-seeking enough about the hearts of us +fallen sons of Adam, that these false prophets, with their baits of +heaven, and their terrors of hell, must exalt our dirtiest vices into +heavenly virtues and the means of bliss? Farewell to chivalry and to +desperate valor, farewell to patriotism and loyalty, farewell to England +and to the manhood of England, if once it shall become the fashion of +our preachers to bid every man, as the Jesuits do, take care first of +what they call the safety of his soul. Every man will be afraid to die +at his post, because he will be afraid that he is not fit to die. Amyas, +do thou do thy duty like a man, to thy country, thy queen, and thy God; +and count thy life a worthless thing, as did the holy men of old. Do +thy work, lad; and leave thy soul to the care of Him who is just and +merciful in this, that He rewards every man according to his work. Is +there respect of persons with God? Now come in, and take the letters, +and to horse. And if I hear of thee dead there at Smerwick fort, with +all thy wounds in front, I shall weep for thy mother, lad; but I shall +have never a sigh for thee.” + +If any one shall be startled at hearing a fine gentleman and a warrior +like Sir Richard quote Scripture, and think Scripture also, they must +be referred to the writings of the time; which they may read not without +profit to themselves, if they discover therefrom how it was possible +then for men of the world to be thoroughly ingrained with the Gospel, +and yet to be free from any taint of superstitious fear, or false +devoutness. The religion of those days was such as no soldier need have +been ashamed of confessing. At least, Sir Richard died as he lived, +without a shudder, and without a whine; and these were his last words, +fifteen years after that, as he lay shot through and through, a captive +among Popish Spaniards, priests, crucifixes, confession, extreme +unction, and all other means and appliances for delivering men out of +the hands of a God of love:-- + +“Here die I, Richard Grenville, with a joyful and quiet mind; for that +I have ended my life as a true soldier ought, fighting for his country, +queen, religion, and honor: my soul willingly departing from this body, +leaving behind the lasting fame of having behaved as every valiant +soldier is in his duty bound to do.” + +Those were the last words of Richard Grenville. The pulpits of those +days had taught them to him. + +But to return. That day's events were not over yet. For, when they went +down into the house, the first person whom they met was the old steward, +in search of his master. + +“There is a manner of roog, Sir Richard, a masterless man, at the door; +a very forward fellow, and must needs speak with you.” + +“A masterless man? He had better not to speak to me, unless he is in +love with gaol and gallows.” + +“Well, your worship,” said the steward, “I expect that is what he does +want, for he swears he will not leave the gate till he has seen you.” + +“Seen me? Halidame! he shall see me, here and at Launceston too, if he +likes. Bring him in.” + +“Fegs, Sir Richard, we are half afeard. With your good leave--” + +“Hillo, Tony,” cried Amyas, “who was ever afeard yet with Sir Richard's +good leave?” + +“What, has the fellow a tail or horns?” + +“Massy no: but I be afeard of treason for your honor; for the fellow is +pinked all over in heathen patterns, and as brown as a filbert; and a +tall roog, a very strong roog, sir, and a foreigner too, and a mighty +staff with him. I expect him to be a manner of Jesuit, or wild Irish, +sir; and indeed the grooms have no stomach to handle him, nor the dogs +neither, or he had been under the pump before now, for they that saw him +coming up the hill swear that he had fire coming out of his mouth.” + +“Fire out of his mouth?” said Sir Richard. “The men are drunk.” + +“Pinked all over? He must be a sailor,” said Amyas; “let me out and see +the fellow, and if he needs putting forth--” + +“Why, I dare say he is not so big but what he will go into thy pocket. +So go, lad, while I finish my writing.” + +Amyas went out, and at the back door, leaning on his staff, stood a +tall, raw-boned, ragged man, “pinked all over,” as the steward had said. + +“Hillo, lad!” quoth Amyas. “Before we come to talk, thou wilt please to +lay down that Plymouth cloak of thine.” And he pointed to the cudgel, +which among West-country mariners usually bore that name. + +“I'll warrant,” said the old steward, “that where he found his cloak he +found purse not far off.” + +“But not hose or doublet; so the magical virtue of his staff has +not helped him much. But put down thy staff, man, and speak like a +Christian, if thou be one.” + +“I am a Christian, though I look like a heathen; and no rogue, though +a masterless man, alas! But I want nothing, deserving nothing, and only +ask to speak with Sir Richard, before I go on my way.” + +There was something stately and yet humble about the man's tone and +manner which attracted Amyas, and he asked more gently where he was +going and whence he came. + +“From Padstow Port, sir, to Clovelly town, to see my old mother, if +indeed she be yet alive, which God knoweth.” + +“Clovally man! why didn't thee say thee was Clovally man?” asked all the +grooms at once, to whom a West-countryman was of course a brother. The +old steward asked-- + +“What's thy mother's name, then?” + +“Susan Yeo.” + +“What, that lived under the archway?” asked a groom. + +“Lived?” said the man. + +“Iss, sure; her died three days since, so we heard, poor soul.” + +The man stood quite silent and unmoved for a minute or two; and then +said quietly to himself, in Spanish, “That which is, is best.” + +“You speak Spanish?” asked Amyas, more and more interested. + +“I had need to do so, young sir; I have been five years in the Spanish +Main, and only set foot on shore two days ago; and if you will let me +have speech of Sir Richard, I will tell him that at which both the ears +of him that heareth it shall tingle; and if not, I can but go on to Mr. +Cary of Clovelly, if he be yet alive, and there disburden my soul; but I +would sooner have spoken with one that is a mariner like to myself.” + +“And you shall,” said Amyas. “Steward, we will have this man in; for all +his rags, he is a man of wit.” And he led him in. + +“I only hope he ben't one of those Popish murderers,” said the old +steward, keeping at a safe distance from him as they entered the hall. + +“Popish, old master? There's little fear of my being that. Look here!” + And drawing back his rags, he showed a ghastly scar, which encircled his +wrist and wound round and up his fore-arm. + +“I got that on the rack,” said he, quietly, “in the Inquisition at +Lima.” + +“O Father! Father! why didn't you tell us that you were a poor +Christian?” asked the penitent steward. + +“Because I have had naught but my deserts; and but a taste of them +either, as the Lord knoweth who delivered me; and I wasn't going to make +myself a beggar and a show on their account.” + +“By heaven, you are a brave fellow!” said Amyas. “Come along straight to +Sir Richard's room.” + +So in they went, where Sir Richard sat in his library among books, +despatches, state-papers, and warrants; for though he was not yet, as in +after times (after the fashion of those days) admiral, general, member +of parliament, privy councillor, justice of the peace, and so forth, all +at once, yet there were few great men with whom he did not correspond, +or great matters with which he was not cognizant. + +“Hillo, Amyas, have you bound the wild man already, and brought him in +to swear allegiance?” + +But before Amyas could answer, the man looked earnestly on him--“Amyas?” + said he; “is that your name, sir?” + +“Amyas Leigh is my name, at your service, good fellow.” + +“Of Burrough by Bideford?” + +“Why then? What do you know of me?” + +“Oh sir, sir! young brains and happy ones have short memories; but old +and sad brains too long ones often! Do you mind one that was with Mr. +Oxenham, sir? A swearing reprobate he was, God forgive him, and hath +forgiven him too, for His dear Son's sake--one, sir, that gave you a +horn, a toy with a chart on it?” + +“Soul alive!” cried Amyas, catching him by the hand; “and are you he? +The horn? why, I have it still, and will keep it to my dying day, too. +But where is Mr. Oxenham?” + +“Yes, my good fellow, where is Mr. Oxenham?” asked Sir Richard, rising. +“You are somewhat over-hasty in welcoming your old acquaintance, Amyas, +before we have heard from him whether he can give honest account of +himself and of his captain. For there is more than one way by which +sailors may come home without their captains, as poor Mr. Barker of +Bristol found to his cost. God grant that there may have been no such +traitorous dealing here.” + +“Sir Richard Grenville, if I had been a guilty man to my noble captain, +as I have to God, I had not come here this day to you, from whom +villainy has never found favor, nor ever will; for I know your +conditions well, sir; and trust in the Lord, that if you will be pleased +to hear me, you shall know mine.” + +“Thou art a well-spoken knave. We shall see.” + +“My dear sir,” said Amyas, in a whisper, “I will warrant this man +guiltless.” + +“I verily believe him to be; but this is too serious a matter to be left +on guess. If he will be sworn--” + +Whereon the man, humbly enough, said, that if it would please Sir +Richard, he would rather not be sworn. + +“But it does not please me, rascal! Did I not warn thee, Amyas?” + +“Sir,” said the man, proudly, “God forbid that my word should not be as +good as my oath: but it is against my conscience to be sworn.” + +“What have we here? some fantastical Anabaptist, who is wiser than his +teachers.” + +“My conscience, sir--” + +“The devil take it and thee! I never heard a man yet begin to prate of +his conscience, but I knew that he was about to do something more than +ordinarily cruel or false.” + +“Sir,” said the man, coolly enough, “do you sit here to judge me +according to law, and yet contrary to the law swear profane oaths, for +which a fine is provided?” + +Amyas expected an explosion: but Sir Richard pulled a shilling out and +put it on the table. “There--my fine is paid, sirrah, to the poor of +Kilkhampton: but hearken thou all the same. If thou wilt not speak an +oath, thou shalt speak on compulsion; for to Launceston gaol thou goest, +there to answer for Mr. Oxenham's death, on suspicion whereof, and of +mutiny causing it, I will attach thee and every soul of his crew that +comes home. We have lost too many gallant captains of late by treachery +of their crews, and he that will not clear himself on oath, must be held +for guilty, and self-condemned.” + +“My good fellow,” said Amyas, who could not give up his belief in the +man's honesty, “why, for such fantastical scruples, peril not only your +life, but your honor, and Mr. Oxenham's also? For if you be examined by +question, you may be forced by torment to say that which is not true.” + +“Little fear of that, young sir!” answered he, with a grim smile; “I +have had too much of the rack already, and the strappado too, to care +much what man can do unto me. I would heartily that I thought it lawful +to be sworn: but not so thinking, I can but submit to the cruelty of +man; though I did expect more merciful things, as a most miserable and +wrecked mariner, at the hands of one who hath himself seen God's ways +in the sea, and His wonders in the great deep. Sir Richard Grenville, +if you will hear my story, may God avenge on my head all my sins from my +youth up until now, and cut me off from the blood of Christ, and, if it +were possible, from the number of His elect, if I tell you one whit more +or less than truth; and if not, I commend myself into the hands of God.” + +Sir Richard smiled. “Well, thou art a brave ass, and valiant, though an +ass manifest. Dost thou not see, fellow, how thou hast sworn a ten-times +bigger oath than ever I should have asked of thee? But this is the way +with your Anabaptists, who by their very hatred of forms and ceremonies, +show of how much account they think them, and then bind themselves out +of their own fantastical self-will with far heavier burdens than ever +the lawful authorities have laid on them for the sake of the commonweal. +But what do they care for the commonweal, as long as they can save, as +they fancy, each man his own dirty soul for himself? However, thou art +sworn now with a vengeance; go on with thy tale: and first, who art +thou, and whence?” + +“Well, sir,” said the man, quite unmoved by this last explosion; “my +name is Salvation Yeo, born in Clovelly Street, in the year 1526, where +my father exercised the mystery of a barber surgeon, and a preacher of +the people since called Anabaptists, for which I return humble thanks to +God.” + +Sir Richard.--Fie! thou naughty knave; return thanks that thy father was +an ass? + +Yeo.--Nay, but because he was a barber surgeon; for I myself learnt +a touch of that trade, and thereby saved my life, as I will tell +presently. And I do think that a good mariner ought to have all +knowledge of carnal and worldly cunning, even to tailoring and +shoemaking, that he may be able to turn his hand to whatsoever may hap. + +Sir Richard.--Well spoken, fellow: but let us have thy text without thy +comments. Forwards! + +Yeo.--Well, sir. I was bred to the sea from my youth, and was with +Captain Hawkins in his three voyages, which he made to Guinea for negro +slaves, and thence to the West Indies. + +Sir Richard.--Then thrice thou wentest to a bad end, though Captain +Hawkins be my good friend; and the last time to a bad end thou camest. + +Yeo.--No denying that last, your worship: but as for the former, I +doubt--about the unlawfulness, I mean; being the negroes are of the +children of Ham, who are cursed and reprobate, as Scripture declares, +and their blackness testifies, being Satan's own livery; among whom +therefore there can be none of the elect, wherefore the elect are not +required to treat them as brethren. + +Sir Richard.--What a plague of a pragmatical sea-lawyer have we here? +And I doubt not, thou hypocrite, that though thou wilt call the negroes' +black skin Satan's livery, when it serves thy turn to steal them, thou +wilt find out sables to be Heaven's livery every Sunday, and up with a +godly howl unless a parson shall preach in a black gown, Geneva fashion. +Out upon thee! Go on with thy tale, lest thou finish thy sermon at +Launceston after all. + +Yeo.--The Lord's people were always a reviled people and a persecuted +people: but I will go forward, sir; for Heaven forbid but that I should +declare what God has done for me. For till lately, from my youth up, +I was given over to all wretchlessness and unclean living, and was by +nature a child of the devil, and to every good work reprobate, even as +others. + +Sir Richard.--Hark to his “even as others”! Thou new-whelped Pharisee, +canst not confess thine own villainies without making out others as bad +as thyself, and so thyself no worse than others? I only hope that thou +hast shown none of thy devil's doings to Mr. Oxenham. + +Yeo.--On the word of a Christian man, sir, as I said before, I kept true +faith with him, and would have been a better friend to him, sir, what is +more, than ever he was to himself. + +Sir Richard.--Alas! that might easily be. + +Yeo.--I think, sir, and will make good against any man, that Mr. Oxenham +was a noble and valiant gentleman; true of his word, stout of his sword, +skilful by sea and land, and worthy to have been Lord High Admiral of +England (saving your worship's presence), but that through two great +sins, wrath and avarice, he was cast away miserably or ever his soul was +brought to the knowledge of the truth. Ah, sir, he was a captain worth +sailing under! + +And Yeo heaved a deep sigh. + +Sir Richard.--Steady, steady, good fellow! If thou wouldst quit +preaching, thou art no fool after all. But tell us the story without +more bush-beating. + +So at last Yeo settled himself to his tale:-- + +“Well, sirs, I went, as Mr. Leigh knows, to Nombre de Dios, with Mr. +Drake and Mr. Oxenham, in 1572, where what we saw and did, your worship, +I suppose, knows as well as I; and there was, as you've heard maybe, +a covenant between Mr. Oxenham and Mr. Drake to sail the South Seas +together, which they made, your worship, in my hearing, under the tree +over Panama. For when Mr. Drake came down from the tree, after seeing +the sea afar off, Mr. Oxenham and I went up and saw it too; and when we +came down, Drake says, 'John, I have made a vow to God that I will sail +that water, if I live and God gives me grace;' which he had done, sir, +upon his bended knees, like a godly man as he always was, and would I +had taken after him! and Mr. O. says, 'I am with you, Drake, to live or +die, and I think I know some one there already, so we shall not be quite +among strangers;' and laughed withal. Well, sirs, that voyage, as you +know, never came off, because Captain Drake was fighting in Ireland; so +Mr. Oxenham, who must be up and doing, sailed for himself, and I, who +loved him, God knows, like a brother (saving the difference in our +ranks), helped him to get the crew together, and went as his gunner. +That was in 1575; as you know, he had a 140-ton ship, sir, and seventy +men out of Plymouth and Fowey and Dartmouth, and many of them old hands +of Drake's, beside a dozen or so from Bideford that I picked up when I +saw young Master here.” + +“Thank God that you did not pick me up too.” + +“Amen, amen!” said Yeo, clasping his hands on his breast. “Those seventy +men, sir,--seventy gallant men, sir, with every one of them an immortal +soul within him,--where are they now? Gone, like the spray!” And he +swept his hands abroad with a wild and solemn gesture. “And their blood +is upon my head!” + +Both Sir Richard and Amyas began to suspect that the man's brain was not +altogether sound. + +“God forbid, my man,” said the knight, kindly. + +“Thirteen men I persuaded to join in Bideford town, beside William +Penberthy of Marazion, my good comrade. And what if it be said to me at +the day of judgment, 'Salvation Yeo, where are those fourteen whom thou +didst tempt to their deaths by covetousness and lust of gold?' Not that +I was alone in my sin, if the truth must be told. For all the way out +Mr. Oxenham was making loud speech, after his pleasant way, that he +would make all their fortunes, and take them to such a Paradise, that +they should have no lust to come home again. And I--God knows why--for +every one boast of his would make two, even to lying and empty fables, +and anything to keep up the men's hearts. For I had really persuaded +myself that we should all find treasures beyond Solomon his temple, +and Mr. Oxenham would surely show us how to conquer some golden city or +discover some island all made of precious stones. And one day, as the +captain and I were talking after our fashion, I said, 'And you shall be +our king, captain.' To which he, 'If I be, I shall not be long without +a queen, and that no Indian one either.' And after that he often jested +about the Spanish ladies, saying that none could show us the way to +their hearts better than he. Which speeches I took no count of then, +sirs: but after I minded them, whether I would or not. Well, sirs, we +came to the shore of New Spain, near to the old place--that's Nombre +de Dios; and there Mr. Oxenham went ashore into the woods with a boat's +crew, to find the negroes who helped us three years before. Those are +the Cimaroons, gentles, negro slaves who have fled from those devils +incarnate, their Spanish masters, and live wild, like the beasts +that perish; men of great stature, sirs, and fierce as wolves in +the onslaught, but poor jabbering mazed fellows if they be but a bit +dismayed: and have many Indian women with them, who take to these +negroes a deal better than to their own kin, which breeds war enough, as +you may guess. + +“Well, sirs, after three days the captain comes back, looking heavy +enough, and says, 'We played our trick once too often, when we played +it once. There is no chance of stopping another reco (that is, a +mule-train, sirs) now. The Cimaroons say that since our last visit +they never move without plenty of soldiers, two hundred shot at least. +Therefore,' he said, 'my gallants, we must either return empty-handed +from this, the very market and treasury of the whole Indies, or do such +a deed as men never did before, which I shall like all the better for +that very reason.' And we, asking his meaning, 'Why,' he said, 'if Drake +will not sail the South Seas, we will;' adding profanely that Drake was +like Moses, who beheld the promised land afar; but he was Joshua, who +would enter into it, and smite the inhabitants thereof. And, for our +confirmation, showed me and the rest the superscription of a letter: and +said, 'How I came by this is none of your business: but I have had it in +my bosom ever since I left Plymouth; and I tell you now, what I forbore +to tell you at first, that the South Seas have been my mark all along! +such news have I herein of plate-ships, and gold-ships, and what not, +which will come up from Quito and Lima this very month, all which, with +the pearls of the Gulf of Panama, and other wealth unspeakable, will be +ours, if we have but true English hearts within us.' + +“At which, gentles, we were like madmen for lust of that gold, and +cheerfully undertook a toil incredible; for first we run our ship +aground in a great wood which grew in the very sea itself, and then took +out her masts, and covered her in boughs, with her four cast pieces of +great ordnance (of which more hereafter), and leaving no man in her, +started for the South Seas across the neck of Panama, with two small +pieces of ordnance and our culverins, and good store of victuals, and +with us six of those negroes for a guide, and so twelve leagues to a +river which runs into the South Sea. + +“And there, having cut wood, we made a pinnace (and work enough we had +at it) of five-and-forty foot in the keel; and in her down the stream, +and to the Isle of Pearls in the Gulf of Panama.” + +“Into the South Sea? Impossible!” said Sir Richard. “Have a care what +you say, my man; for there is that about you which would make me sorry +to find you out a liar.” + +“Impossible or not, liar or none, we went there, sir.” + +“Question him, Amyas, lest he turn out to have been beforehand with +you.” + +The man looked inquiringly at Amyas, who said-- + +“Well, my man, of the Gulf of Panama I cannot ask you, for I never was +inside it, but what other parts of the coast do you know?” + +“Every inch, sir, from Cabo San Francisco to Lima; more is my sorrow, +for I was a galley-slave there for two years and more.” + +“You know Lima?” + +“I was there three times, worshipful gentlemen, and the last was +February come two years; and there I helped lade a great plate-ship, the +Cacafuogo,' they called her.” + +Amyas started. Sir Richard nodded to him gently to be silent, and then-- + +“And what became of her, my lad?” + +“God knows, who knows all, and the devil who freighted her. I broke +prison six weeks afterwards, and never heard but that she got safe into +Panama.” + +“You never heard, then, that she was taken?” + +“Taken, your worships? Who should take her?” + +“Why should not a good English ship take her as well as another?” said +Amyas. + +“Lord love you, sir; yes, faith, if they had but been there. Many's the +time that I thought to myself, as we went alongside, 'Oh, if Captain +Drake was but here, well to windward, and our old crew of the “Dragon”!' +Ask your pardon, gentles: but how is Captain Drake, if I may make so +bold?” + +Neither could hold out longer. + +“Fellow, fellow!” cried Sir Richard, springing up, “either thou art the +cunningest liar that ever earned a halter, or thou hast done a deed +the like of which never man adventured. Dost thou not know that Captain +Drake took that 'Cacafuogo' and all her freight, in February come two +years?” + +“Captain Drake! God forgive me, sir; but--Captain Drake in the South +Seas? He saw them, sir, from the tree-top over Panama, when I was with +him, and I too; but sailed them, sir?--sailed them?” + +“Yes, and round the world too,” said Amyas, “and I with him; and took +that very 'Cacafuogo' off Cape San Francisco, as she came up to Panama.” + +One glance at the man's face was enough to prove his sincerity. The +great stern Anabaptist, who had not winced at the news of his mother's +death, dropt right on his knees on the floor, and burst into violent +sobs. + +“Glory to God! Glory to God! O Lord, I thank thee! Captain Drake in +the South Seas! The blood of thy innocents avenged, O Lord! The spoiler +spoiled, and the proud robbed; and all they whose hands were mighty have +found nothing. Glory, glory! Oh, tell me, sir, did she fight?” + +“We gave her three pieces of ordnance only, and struck down her +mizzenmast, and then boarded sword in hand, but never had need to strike +a blow; and before we left her, one of her own boys had changed her +name, and rechristened her the 'Cacaplata.'” + +“Glory, glory! Cowards they are, as I told them. I told them they never +could stand the Devon mastiffs, and well they flogged me for saying it; +but they could not stop my mouth. O sir, tell me, did you get the ship +that came up after her?” + +“What was that?” + +“A long race-ship, sir, from Guayaquil, with an old gentleman on +board,--Don Francisco de Xararte was his name, and by token, he had a +gold falcon hanging to a chain round his neck, and a green stone in the +breast of it. I saw it as we rowed him aboard. O tell me, sir, tell me +for the love of God, did you take that ship?” + +“We did take that ship, and the jewel too, and her majesty has it at +this very hour.” + +“Then tell me, sir,” said he slowly, as if he dreaded an answer; “tell +me, sir, and oh, try and mind--was there a little maid aboard with the +old gentleman?” + +“A little maid? Let me think. No; I saw none.” + +The man settled his features again sadly. + +“I thought not. I never saw her come aboard. Still I hoped, like; I +hoped. Alackaday! God help me, Salvation Yeo!” + +“What have you to do with this little maid, then, good fellow!” asked +Grenville. + +“Ah, sir, before I tell you that, I must go back and finish the story of +Mr. Oxenham, if you will believe me enough to hear it.” + +“I do believe thee, good fellow, and honor thee too.” + +“Then, sir, I can speak with a free tongue. Where was I?” + +“Where was he, Amyas?” + +“At the Isle of Pearls.” + +“And yet, O gentles, tell me first, how Captain Drake came into the +South Seas:--over the neck, as we did?” + +“Through the Straits, good fellow, like any Spaniard: but go on with thy +story, and thou shalt have Mr. Leigh's after.” + +“Through the Straits! O glory! But I'll tell my tale. Well, sirs +both--To the Island of Pearls we came, we and some of the negroes. We +found many huts, and Indians fishing for pearls, and also a fair house, +with porches; but no Spaniard therein, save one man; at which Mr. +Oxenham was like a man transported, and fell on that Spaniard, crying, +'Perro, where is your mistress? Where is the bark from Lima?' To which +he boldly enough, 'What was his mistress to the Englishman?' But Mr. O. +threatened to twine a cord round his head till his eyes burst out; and +the Spaniard, being terrified, said that the ship from Lima was expected +in a fortnight's time. So for ten days we lay quiet, letting neither +negro nor Spaniard leave the island, and took good store of pearls, +feeding sumptuously on wild cattle and hogs until the tenth day, when +there came by a small bark; her we took, and found her from Quito, and +on board 60,000 pezos of gold and other store. With which if we had been +content, gentlemen, all had gone well. And some were willing to go back +at once, having both treasure and pearls in plenty; but Mr. O., he +waxed right mad, and swore to slay any one who made that motion again, +assuring us that the Lima ship of which he had news was far greater and +richer, and would make princes of us all; which bark came in sight on +the sixteenth day, and was taken without shot or slaughter. The taking +of which bark, I verily believe, was the ruin of every mother's son of +us.” + +And being asked why, he answered, “First, because of the discontent +which was bred thereby; for on board was found no gold, but only 100,000 +pezos of silver.” + +Sir Richard Grenville.--Thou greedy fellow; and was not that enough to +stay your stomachs? + +Yeo answered that he would to God it had been; and that, moreover, the +weight of that silver was afterwards a hindrance to them, and fresh +cause of discontent, as he would afterwards declare. “So that it had +been well for us, sirs, if we had left it behind, as Mr. Drake left his +three years before, and carried away the gold only. In which I do see +the evident hand of God, and His just punishment for our greediness +of gain; who caused Mr. Oxenham, by whom we had hoped to attain great +wealth, to be a snare to us, and a cause of utter ruin.” + +“Do you think, then,” said Sir Richard, “that Mr. Oxenham deceived you +wilfully?” + +“I will never believe that, sir: Mr. Oxenham had his private reasons for +waiting for that ship, for the sake of one on board, whose face would +that he had never seen, though he saw it then, as I fear, not for the +first time by many a one.” And so was silent. + +“Come,” said both his hearers, “you have brought us thus far, and you +must go on.” + +“Gentlemen, I have concealed this matter from all men, both on my voyage +home and since; and I hope you will be secret in the matter, for the +honor of my noble captain, and the comfort of his friends who are alive. +For I think it shame to publish harm of a gallant gentleman, and of an +ancient and worshipful family, and to me a true and kind captain, when +what is done cannot be undone, and least said soonest mended. Neither +now would I have spoken of it, but that I was inwardly moved to it for +the sake of that young gentleman there” (looking at Amyas), “that +he might be warned in time of God's wrath against the crying sin of +adultery, and flee youthful lusts, which war against the soul.” + +“Thou hast done wisely enough, then,” said Sir Richard; “and look to it +if I do not reward thee: but the young gentleman here, thank God, needs +no such warnings, having got them already both by precept and example, +where thou and poor Oxenham might have had them also.” + +“You mean Captain Drake, your worship?” + +“I do, sirrah. If all men were as clean livers as he, the world would be +spared one half the tears that are shed in it.” + +“Amen, sir. At least there would have been many a tear spared to us and +ours. For--as all must out--in that bark of Lima he took a young +lady, as fair as the sunshine, sir, and seemingly about two or +three-and-twenty years of age, having with her a tall young lad of +sixteen, and a little girl, a marvellously pretty child, of about a +six or seven. And the lady herself was of an excellent beauty, like a +whale's tooth for whiteness, so that all the crew wondered at her, and +could not be satisfied with looking upon her. And, gentlemen, this was +strange, that the lady seemed in no wise afraid or mournful, and bid +her little girl fear naught, as did also Mr. Oxenham: but the lad kept a +very sour countenance, and the more when he saw the lady and Mr. Oxenham +speaking together apart. + +“Well, sir, after this good luck we were minded to have gone straight +back to the river whence we came, and so home to England with all speed. +But Mr. Oxenham persuaded us to return to the island, and get a few more +pearls. To which foolishness (which after caused the mishap) I verily +believe he was moved by the instigation of the devil and of that lady. +For as we were about to go ashore, I, going down into the cabin of the +prize, saw Mr. Oxenham and that lady making great cheer of each other +with, 'My life,' and 'My king,' and 'Light of my eyes,' and such toys; +and being bidden by Mr. Oxenham to fetch out the lady's mails, and take +them ashore, heard how the two laughed together about the old ape of +Panama (which ape, or devil rather, I saw afterwards to my cost), and +also how she said that she had been dead for five years, and now that +Mr. Oxenham was come, she was alive again, and so forth. + +“Mr. Oxenham bade take the little maid ashore, kissing her and playing +with her, and saying to the lady, 'What is yours is mine, and what is +mine is yours.' And she asking whether the lad should come ashore, he +answered, 'He is neither yours nor mine; let the spawn of Beelzebub stay +on shore.' After which I, coming on deck again, stumbled over that very +lad, upon the hatchway ladder, who bore so black and despiteful a face, +that I verily believe he had overheard their speech, and so thrust him +upon deck; and going below again, told Mr. Oxenham what I thought, and +said that it were better to put a dagger into him at once, professing to +be ready so to do. For which grievous sin, seeing that it was +committed in my unregenerate days, I hope I have obtained the grace of +forgiveness, as I have that of hearty repentance. But the lady cried +out, 'Though he be none of mine, I have sin enough already on my soul;' +and so laid her hand on Mr. Oxenham's mouth, entreating pitifully. And +Mr. Oxenham answered laughing, when she would let him, 'What care we? +let the young monkey go and howl to the old one;' and so went ashore +with the lady to that house, whence for three days he never came forth, +and would have remained longer, but that the men, finding but few +pearls, and being wearied with the watching and warding so many +Spaniards, and negroes came clamoring to him, and swore that they +would return or leave him there with the lady. So all went on board +the pinnace again, every one in ill humor with the captain, and he with +them. + +“Well, sirs, we came back to the mouth of the river, and there began our +troubles; for the negroes, as soon as we were on shore, called on Mr. +Oxenham to fulfil the bargain he had made with them. And now it came out +(what few of us knew till then) that he had agreed with the Cimaroons +that they should have all the prisoners which were taken, save the gold. +And he, though loath, was about to give up the Spaniards to them, near +forty in all, supposing that they intended to use them as slaves: but +as we all stood talking, one of the Spaniards, understanding what was +forward, threw himself on his knees before Mr. Oxenham, and shrieking +like a madman, entreated not to be given up into the hands of 'those +devils,' said he, 'who never take a Spanish prisoner, but they roast him +alive, and then eat his heart among them.' We asked the negroes if this +was possible? To which some answered, What was that to us? But others +said boldly, that it was true enough, and that revenge made the best +sauce, and nothing was so sweet as Spanish blood; and one, pointing +to the lady, said such foul and devilish things as I should be ashamed +either for me to speak, or you to hear. At this we were like men amazed +for very horror; and Mr. Oxenham said, 'You incarnate fiends, if you had +taken these fellows for slaves, it had been fair enough; for you were +once slaves to them, and I doubt not cruelly used enough: but as for +this abomination,' says he, 'God do so to me, and more also, if I +let one of them come into your murderous hands.' So there was a great +quarrel; but Mr. Oxenham stoutly bade put the prisoners on board +the ships again, and so let the prizes go, taking with him only the +treasure, and the lady and the little maid. And so the lad went on to +Panama, God's wrath having gone out against us. + +“Well, sirs, the Cimaroons after that went away from us, swearing +revenge (for which we cared little enough), and we rowed up the river +to a place where three streams met, and then up the least of the three, +some four days' journey, till it grew all shoal and swift; and there we +hauled the pinnace upon the sands, and Mr. Oxenham asked the men whether +they were willing to carry the gold and silver over the mountains to the +North Sea. Some of them at first were loath to do it, and I and others +advised that we should leave the plate behind, and take the gold only, +for it would have cost us three or four journeys at the least. But Mr. +Oxenham promised every man 100 pezos of silver over and above his wages, +which made them content enough, and we were all to start the morrow +morning. But, sirs, that night, as God had ordained, came a mishap by +some rash speeches of Mr. Oxenham's, which threw all abroad again; for +when we had carried the treasure about half a league inland, and hidden +it away in a house which we made of boughs, Mr. O. being always full of +that his fair lady, spoke to me and William Penberthy of Marazion, my +good comrade, and a few more, saying, 'That we had no need to return +to England, seeing that we were already in the very garden of Eden, and +wanted for nothing, but could live without labor or toil; and that it +was better, when we got over to the North Sea, to go and seek out some +fair island, and there dwell in joy and pleasure till our lives' end. +And we two,' he said, 'will be king and queen, and you, whom I can +trust, my officers; and for servants we will have the Indians, who, I +warrant, will be more fain to serve honest and merry masters like us +than those Spanish devils,' and much more of the like; which words I +liked well,--my mind, alas! being given altogether to carnal pleasure +and vanity,--as did William Penberthy, my good comrade, on whom I trust +God has had mercy. But the rest, sirs, took the matter all across, and +began murmuring against the captain, saying that poor honest mariners +like them had always the labor and the pain, while he took his delight +with his lady; and that they would have at least one merry night before +they were slain by the Cimaroons, or eaten by panthers and lagartos; +and so got out of the pinnace two great skins of Canary wine, which were +taken in the Lima prize, and sat themselves down to drink. Moreover, +there were in the pinnace a great sight of hens, which came from the +same prize, by which Mr. O. set great store, keeping them for the lady +and the little maid; and falling upon these, the men began to blaspheme, +saying, 'What a plague had the captain to fill the boat with dirty live +lumber for that giglet's sake? They had a better right to a good supper +than ever she had, and might fast awhile to cool her hot blood;' and +so cooked and ate those hens, plucking them on board the pinnace, and +letting the feathers fall into the stream. But when William Penberthy, +my good comrade, saw the feathers floating away down, he asked them if +they were mad, to lay a trail by which the Spaniards would surely track +them out, if they came after them, as without doubt they would. But they +laughed him to scorn, and said that no Spanish cur dared follow on +the heels of true English mastiffs as they were, and other boastful +speeches; and at last, being heated with wine, began afresh to murmur at +the captain. And one speaking of his counsel about the island, the rest +altogether took it amiss and out of the way; and some sprang up crying +treason, and others that he meant to defraud them of the plate which he +had promised, and others that he meant to desert them in a strange land, +and so forth, till Mr. O., hearing the hubbub, came out to them from +the house, when they reviled him foully, swearing that he meant to cheat +them; and one Edward Stiles, a Wapping man, mad with drink, dared to say +that he was a fool for not giving up the prisoners to the negroes, and +what was it to him if the lady roasted? the negroes should have her yet; +and drawing his sword, ran upon the captain: for which I was about to +strike him through the body; but the captain, not caring to waste steel +on such a ribald, with his fist caught him such a buffet behind the ear, +that he fell down stark dead, and all the rest stood amazed. Then Mr. +Oxenham called out, 'All honest men who know me, and can trust me, stand +by your lawful captain against these ruffians.' Whereon, sirs, I, and +Penberthy my good comrade, and four Plymouth men, who had sailed with +Mr. O. in Mr. Drake's ship, and knew his trusty and valiant conditions, +came over to him, and swore before God to stand by him and the lady. +Then said Mr. O. to the rest, 'Will you carry this treasure, knaves, +or will you not? Give me an answer here.' And they refused, unless he +would, before they started, give each man his share. So Mr. O. waxed +very mad, and swore that he would never be served by men who did not +trust him, and so went in again; and that night was spent in great +disquiet, I and those five others keeping watch about the house of +boughs till the rest fell asleep, in their drink. And next morning, when +the wine was gone out of them, Mr. O. asked them whether they would go +to the hills with him, and find those negroes, and persuade them after +all to carry the treasure. To which they agreed after awhile, thinking +that so they should save themselves labor; and went off with Mr. +Oxenham, leaving us six who had stood by him to watch the lady and the +treasure, after he had taken an oath of us that we would deal justly and +obediently by him and by her, which God knows, gentlemen, we did. So +he parted with much weeping and wailing of the lady, and was gone seven +days; and all that time we kept that lady faithfully and honestly, +bringing her the best we could find, and serving her upon our bended +knees, both for her admirable beauty, and for her excellent conditions, +for she was certainly of some noble kin, and courteous, and without +fear, as if she had been a very princess. But she kept always within the +house, which the little maid (God bless her!) did not, but soon learned +to play with us and we with her, so that we made great cheer of her, +gentlemen, sailor fashion--for you know we must always have our minions +aboard to pet and amuse us--maybe a monkey, or a little dog, or a +singing bird, ay, or mice and spiders, if we have nothing better to +play withal. And she was wonderful sharp, sirs, was the little maid, and +picked up her English from us fast, calling us jolly mariners, which I +doubt but she has forgotten by now, but I hope in God it be not so;” and +therewith the good fellow began wiping his eyes. + +“Well, sir, on the seventh day we six were down by the pinnace clearing +her out, and the little maid with us gathering of flowers, and William +Penberthy fishing on the bank, about a hundred yards below, when on +a sudden he leaps up and runs toward us, crying, 'Here come our hens' +feathers back again with a vengeance!' and so bade catch up the little +maid, and run for the house, for the Spaniards were upon us. + +“Which was too true; for before we could win the house, there were full +eighty shot at our heels, but could not overtake us; nevertheless, some +of them stopping, fixed their calivers and let fly, killing one of the +Plymouth men. The rest of us escaped to the house, and catching up the +lady, fled forth, not knowing whither we went, while the Spaniards, +finding the house and treasure, pursued us no farther. + +“For all that day and the next we wandered in great misery, the lady +weeping continually, and calling for Mr. Oxenham most piteously, and +the little maid likewise, till with much ado we found the track of our +comrades, and went up that as best we might: but at nightfall, by good +hap, we met the whole crew coming back, and with them 200 negroes or +more, with bows and arrows. At which sight was great joy and embracing, +and it was a strange thing, sirs, to see the lady; for before that she +was altogether desperate: and yet she was now a very lioness, as soon +as she had got her love again; and prayed him earnestly not to care +for that gold, but to go forward to the North Sea, vowing to him in my +hearing that she cared no more for poverty than she had cared for her +good name, and then--they being a little apart from the rest--pointed +round to the green forest, and said in Spanish--which I suppose they +knew not that I understood,--'See, all round us is Paradise. Were it not +enough for you and me to stay here forever, and let them take the gold +or leave it as they will?' + +“To which Mr. Oxenham--'Those who lived in Paradise had not sinned as we +have, and would never have grown old or sick, as we shall.' + +“And she--'If we do that, there are poisons enough in these woods, by +which we may die in each other's arms, as would to Heaven we had died +seven years agone!' + +“But he--'No, no, my life. It stands upon my honor both to fulfil my +bond with these men, whom I have brought hither, and to take home to +England at least something of my prize as a proof of my own valor.' + +“Then she smiling--'Am I not prize enough, and proof enough?' But he +would not be so tempted, and turning to us offered us the half of that +treasure, if we would go back with him, and rescue it from the Spaniard. +At which the lady wept and wailed much; but I took upon myself to +comfort her, though I was but a simple mariner, telling her that it +stood upon Mr. Oxenham's honor; and that in England nothing was esteemed +so foul as cowardice, or breaking word and troth betwixt man and man; +and that better was it for him to die seven times by the Spaniards, than +to face at home the scorn of all who sailed the seas. So, after much +ado, back they went again; I and Penberthy, and the three Plymouth men +which escaped from the pinnace, keeping the lady as before. + +“Well, sirs, we waited five days, having made houses of boughs as +before, without hearing aught; and on the sixth we saw coming afar off +Mr. Oxenham, and with him fifteen or twenty men, who seemed very weary +and wounded; and when we looked for the rest to be behind them, behold +there were no more; at which, sirs, as you may well think, our hearts +sank within us. + +“And Mr. O., coming nearer, cried out afar off, 'All is lost!' and so +walked into the camp without a word, and sat himself down at the foot +of a great tree with his head between his hands, speaking neither to the +lady or to any one, till she very pitifully kneeling before him, cursing +herself for the cause of all his mischief, and praying him to avenge +himself upon that her tender body, won him hardly to look once upon her, +after which (as is the way of vain and unstable man) all between them +was as before. + +“But the men were full of curses against the negroes, for their +cowardice and treachery; yea, and against high Heaven itself, which had +put the most part of their ammunition into the Spaniards' hands; and +told me, and I believe truly, how they forced the enemy awaiting them in +a little copse of great trees, well fortified with barricades of boughs, +and having with them our two falcons, which they had taken out of the +pinnace. And how Mr. Oxenham divided both the English and the negroes +into two bands, that one might attack the enemy in front, and the +other in the rear, and so set upon them with great fury, and would have +utterly driven them out, but that the negroes, who had come on with much +howling, like very wild beasts, being suddenly scared with the shot and +noise of the ordnance, turned and fled, leaving the Englishmen alone; in +which evil strait Mr. O. fought like a very Guy of Warwick, and I verily +believe every man of them likewise; for there was none of them who had +not his shrewd scratch to show. And indeed, Mr. Oxenham's party had once +gotten within the barricades, but the Spaniards being sheltered by +the tree trunks (and especially by one mighty tree, which stood as I +remembered it, and remember it now, borne up two fathoms high upon its +own roots, as it were upon arches and pillars), shot at them with such +advantage, that they had several slain, and seven more taken alive, only +among the roots of that tree. So seeing that they could prevail nothing, +having little but their pikes and swords, they were fain to give back; +though Mr. Oxenham swore he would not stir a foot, and making at the +Spanish captain was borne down with pikes, and hardly pulled away by +some, who at last reminding him of his lady, persuaded him to come away +with the rest. Whereon the other party fled also; but what had become +of them they knew not, for they took another way. And so they miserably +drew off, having lost in men eleven killed and seven taken alive, +besides five of the rascal negroes who were killed before they had time +to run; and there was an end of the matter.* + + * In the documents from which I have drawn this veracious + history, a note is appended to this point of Yeo's story, + which seems to me to smack sufficiently of the old + Elizabethan seaman, to be inserted at length. + + “All so far, and most after, agreeth with Lopez Vaz his + tale, taken from his pocket by my Lord Cumberland's mariners + at the river Plate, in the year 1586. But note here his + vainglory and falsehood, or else fear of the Spaniard. + + “First, lest it should be seen how great an advantage the + Spaniards had, he maketh no mention of the English calivers, + nor those two pieces of ordnance which were in the pinnace. + + “Second, he saith nothing of the flight of the Cimaroons: + though it was evidently to be gathered from that which he + himself saith, that of less than seventy English were slain + eleven, and of the negroes but five. And while of the + English seven were taken alive, yet of the negroes none. + And why, but because the rascals ran? + + “Thirdly, it is a thing incredible, and out of experience, + that eleven English should be slain and seven taken, with + loss only of two Spaniards killed. + + “Search now, and see (for I will not speak of mine own small + doings), in all those memorable voyages, which the worthy + and learned Mr. Hakluyt hath so painfully collected, and + which are to my old age next only to my Bible, whether in + all the fights which we have endured with the Spaniards, + their loss, even in victory, hath not far exceeded ours. + For we are both bigger of body and fiercer of spirit, being + even to the poorest of us (thanks so the care of our + illustrious princes), the best fed men of Europe, the most + trained to feats of strength and use of weapons, and put our + trust also not in any Virgin or saints, dead rags and bones, + painted idols which have no breath in their mouths, or St. + Bartholomew medals and such devil's remembrancers; but in + the only true God and our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom + whosoever trusteth, one of them shall chase a thousand. So + I hold, having had good experience; and say, if they have + done it once, let them do it again, and kill their eleven to + our two, with any weapon they will, save paper bullets blown + out of Fame's lying trumpet. Yet I have no quarrel with the + poor Portugal; for I doubt not but friend Lopez Vaz had + looking over his shoulder as he wrote some mighty black + velvet Don, with a name as long as that Don Bernaldino + Delgadillo de Avellaneda who set forth lately his + vainglorious libel of lies concerning the last and fatal + voyage of my dear friends Sir F. Drake and Sir John Hawkins, + who rest in peace, having finished their labors, as would + God I rested. To whose shameless and unspeakable lying my + good friend Mr. Henry Savile of this county did most pithily + and wittily reply, stripping the ass out of his lion's skin; + and Sir Thomas Baskerville, general of the fleet, by my + advice, send him a cartel of defiance, offering to meet him + with choice of weapons, in any indifferent kingdom of equal + distance from this realm; which challenge he hath prudently + put in his pipe, or rather rolled it up for one of his + Spanish cigarros, and smoked it, and I doubt not, found it + foul in the mouth.” + +“But the next day, gentlemen, in came some five-and-twenty more, being +the wreck of the other party, and with them a few negroes; and these +last proved themselves no honester men than they were brave, for there +being great misery among us English, and every one of us straggling +where he could to get food, every day one or more who went out never +came back, and that caused a suspicion that the negroes had betrayed +them to the Spaniards, or, maybe, slain and eaten them. So these fellows +being upbraided, with that altogether left us, telling us boldly, +that if they had eaten our fellows, we owed them a debt instead of the +Spanish prisoners; and we, in great terror and hunger, went forward and +over the mountains till we came to a little river which ran northward, +which seemed to lead into the Northern Sea; and there Mr. O.--who, sirs, +I will say, after his first rage was over, behaved himself all through +like a valiant and skilful commander--bade us cut down trees and make +canoes, to go down to the sea; which we began to do, with great labor +and little profit, hewing down trees with our swords, and burning them +out with fire, which, after much labor, we kindled; but as we were +a-burning out of the first tree, and cutting down of another, a great +party of negroes came upon us, and with much friendly show bade us flee +for our lives, for the Spaniards were upon us in great force. And so we +were up and away again, hardly able to drag our legs after us for hunger +and weariness, and the broiling heat. And some were taken (God help +them!) and some fled with the negroes, of whom what became God alone +knoweth; but eight or ten held on with the captain, among whom was I, +and fled downward toward the sea for one day; but afterwards finding, by +the noise in the woods, that the Spaniards were on the track of us, we +turned up again toward the inland, and coming to a cliff, climbed up +over it, drawing up the lady and the little maid with cords of liana +(which hang from those trees as honeysuckle does here, but exceeding +stout and long, even to fifty fathoms); and so breaking the track, hoped +to be out of the way of the enemy. + +“By which, nevertheless, we only increased our misery. For two fell from +that cliff, as men asleep for very weariness, and miserably broke their +bones; and others, whether by the great toil, or sunstrokes, or eating +of strange berries, fell sick of fluxes and fevers; where was no drop +of water, but rock of pumice stone as bare as the back of my hand, and +full, moreover, of great cracks, black and without bottom, over which +we had not strength to lift the sick, but were fain to leave them there +aloft, in the sunshine, like Dives in his torments, crying aloud for +a drop of water to cool their tongues; and every man a great stinking +vulture or two sitting by him, like an ugly black fiend out of the pit, +waiting till the poor soul should depart out of the corpse: but nothing +could avail, and for the dear life we must down again and into the +woods, or be burned up alive upon those rocks. + +“So getting down the slope on the farther side, we came into the woods +once more, and there wandered for many days, I know not how many; +our shoes being gone, and our clothes all rent off us with brakes and +briars. And yet how the lady endured all was a marvel to see; for she +went barefoot many days, and for clothes was fain to wrap herself in Mr. +Oxenham's cloak; while the little maid went all but naked: but ever she +looked still on Mr. Oxenham, and seemed to take no care as long as he +was by, comforting and cheering us all with pleasant words; yea, and +once sitting down under a great fig-tree, sang us all to sleep with +very sweet music; yet, waking about midnight, I saw her sitting still +upright, weeping very bitterly; on whom, sirs, God have mercy; for she +was a fair and a brave jewel. + +“And so, to make few words of a sad matter, at last there were none left +but Mr. Oxenham and the lady and the little maid, together with me and +William Penberthy of Marazion, my good comrade. And Mr. Oxenham always +led the lady, and Penberthy and I carried the little maid. And for food +we had fruits, such as we could find, and water we got from the leaves +of certain lilies which grew on the bark of trees, which I found by +seeing the monkeys drink at them; and the little maid called them +monkey-cups, and asked for them continually, making me climb for them. +And so we wandered on, and upward into very high mountains, always +fearing lest the Spaniards should track us with dogs, which made the +lady leap up often in her sleep, crying that the bloodhounds were upon +her. And it befell upon a day, that we came into a great wood of ferns +(which grew not on the ground like ours, but on stems as big as a +pinnace's mast, and the bark of them was like a fine meshed net, very +strange to see), where was very pleasant shade, cool and green; and +there, gentlemen, we sat down on a bank of moss, like folk desperate and +fordone, and every one looked the other in the face for a long while. +After which I took off the bark of those ferns, for I must needs be +doing something to drive away thought, and began to plait slippers for +the little maid. + +“And as I was plaiting, Mr. Oxenham said, 'What hinders us from dying +like men, every man falling on his own sword?' To which I answered that +I dare not; for a wise woman had prophesied of me, sirs, that I should +die at sea, and yet neither by water or battle, wherefore I did not +think right to meddle with the Lord's purposes. And William Penberthy +said, 'That he would sell his life, and that dear, but never give it +away.' But the lady said, 'Ah, how gladly would I die! but then la +paouvre garse,' which is in French 'the poor maid,' meaning the little +one. Then Mr. Oxenham fell into a very great weeping, a weakness I never +saw him in before or since; and with many tears besought me never +to desert that little maid, whatever might befall; which I promised, +swearing to it like a heathen, but would, if I had been able, have kept +it like a Christian. But on a sudden there was a great cry in the +wood, and coming through the trees on all sides Spanish arquebusiers, +a hundred strong at least, and negroes with them, who bade us stand +or they would shoot. William Penberthy leapt up, crying 'Treason!' and +running upon the nearest negro ran him through, and then another, and +then falling on the Spaniards, fought manfully till he was borne down +with pikes, and so died. But I, seeing no thing better to do, sate +still and finished my plaiting. And so we were all taken, and I and Mr. +Oxenham bound with cords; but the soldiers made a litter for the lady +and child, by commandment of Senor Diego de Trees, their commander, a +very courteous gentleman. + +“Well, sirs, we were brought down to the place where the house of boughs +had been by the river-side; there we went over in boats, and found +waiting for us certain Spanish gentlemen, and among others one old and +ill-favored man, gray-bearded and bent, in a suit of black velvet, who +seemed to be a great man among them. And if you will believe me, Mr. +Leigh, that was none other than the old man with the gold falcon at his +breast, Don Francisco Xararte by name, whom you found aboard of the Lima +ship. And had you known as much of him as I do, or as Mr. Oxenham did +either, you had cut him up for shark's bait, or ever you let the cur +ashore again. + +“Well, sirs, as soon as the lady came to shore, that old man ran upon +her sword in hand, and would have slain her, but some there held him +back. On which he turned to, and reviled with every foul and spiteful +word which he could think of, so that some there bade him be silent for +shame; and Mr. Oxenham said, 'It is worthy of you, Don Francisco, thus +to trumpet abroad your own disgrace. Did I not tell you years ago that +you were a cur; and are you not proving my words for me?' + +“He answered, 'English dog, would to Heaven I had never seen you!' + +“And Mr. Oxenham, 'Spanish ape, would to Heaven that I had sent +my dagger through your herring-ribs when you passed me behind St. +Ildegonde's church, eight years last Easter-eve.' At which the old man +turned pale, and then began again to upbraid the lady, vowing that +he would have her burnt alive, and other devilish words, to which she +answered at last-- + +“'Would that you had burnt me alive on my wedding morning, and spared me +eight years of misery!' And he-- + +“'Misery? Hear the witch, senors! Oh, have I not pampered her, heaped +with jewels, clothes, coaches, what not? The saints alone know what 'I +have spent on her. What more would she have of me?' + +“To which she answered only but this one word, 'Fool!' but in so +terrible a voice, though low, that they who were about to laugh at the +old pantaloon, were more minded to weep for her. + +“'Fool!' she said again, after a while, 'I will waste no words upon you. +I would have driven a dagger to your heart months ago, but that I +was loath to set you free so soon from your gout and your rheumatism. +Selfish and stupid, know when you bought my body from my parents, you +did not buy my soul! Farewell, my love, my life! and farewell, senors! +May you be more merciful to your daughters than my parents were to me!' +And so, catching a dagger from the girdle of one of the soldiers, smote +herself to the heart, and fell dead before them all. + +“At which Mr. Oxenham smiled, and said, 'That was worthy of us both. If +you will unbind my hands, senors, I shall be most happy to copy so fair +a schoolmistress.' + +“But Don Diego shook his head, and said-- + +“'It were well for you, valiant senor, were I at liberty to do so; but +on questioning those of your sailors whom I have already taken, I cannot +hear that you have any letters of license, either from the queen of +England, or any other potentate. I am compelled, therefore, to ask you +whether this is so; for it is a matter of life and death.' + +“To which Mr. Oxenham answered merrily, that so it was: but that he +was not aware that any potentate's license was required to permit a +gentleman's meeting his lady love; and that as for the gold which they +had taken, if they had never allowed that fresh and fair young May to be +forced into marrying that old January, he should never have meddled with +their gold; so that was rather their fault than his. And added, that if +he was to be hanged, as he supposed, the only favor which he asked for +was a long drop and no priests. And all the while, gentlemen, he still +kept his eyes fixed on the lady's corpse, till he was led away with me, +while all that stood by, God reward them for it, lamented openly the +tragical end of those two sinful lovers. + +“And now, sirs, what befell me after that matters little; for I never +saw Captain Oxenham again, nor ever shall in this life.” + +“He was hanged, then?” + +“So I heard for certain the next year, and with him the gunner and +sundry more: but some were given away for slaves to the Spaniards, +and may be alive now, unless, like me, they have fallen into the cruel +clutches of the Inquisition. For the Inquisition now, gentlemen, claims +the bodies and souls of all heretics all over the world (as the devils +told me with their own lips, when I pleaded that I was no Spanish +subject); and none that it catches, whether peaceable merchants or +shipwrecked mariners, but must turn or burn.” + +“But how did you get into the Inquisition?” + +“Why, sir, after we were taken, we set forth to go down the river again; +and the old Don took the little maid with him in one boat (and bitterly +she screeched at parting from us and from the poor dead corpse), and Mr. +Oxenham with Don Diego de Trees in another, and I in a third. And from +the Spaniards I learnt that we were to be taken down to Lima, to the +Viceroy; but that the old man lived hard by Panama, and was going +straight back to Panama forthwith with the little maid. But they said, +'It will be well for her if she ever gets there, for the old man swears +she is none of his, and would have left her behind him in the woods, +now, if Don Diego had not shamed him out of it.' And when I heard that, +seeing that there was nothing but death before me, I made up my mind +to escape; and the very first night, sirs, by God's help, I did it, +and went southward away into the forest, avoiding the tracks of the +Cimaroons, till I came to an Indian town. And there, gentlemen, I got +more mercy from heathens than ever I had from Christians; for when they +found that I was no Spaniard, they fed me and gave me a house, and +a wife (and a good wife she was to me), and painted me all over in +patterns, as you see; and because I had some knowledge of surgery and +blood-letting, and my fleams in my pocket, which were worth to me a +fortune, I rose to great honor among them, though they taught me more of +simples than ever I taught them of surgery. So I lived with them merrily +enough, being a very heathen like them, or indeed worse, for they +worshipped their Xemes, but I nothing. And in time my wife bare me a +child; in looking at whose sweet face, gentlemen, I forgot Mr. Oxenham +and his little maid, and my oath, ay, and my native land also. Wherefore +it was taken from me, else had I lived and died as the beasts which +perish; for one night, after we were all lain down, came a noise outside +the town, and I starting up saw armed men and calivers shining in the +moonlight, and heard one read in Spanish, with a loud voice, some fool's +sermon, after their custom when they hunt the poor Indians, how God had +given to St. Peter the dominion of the whole earth, and St. Peter +again the Indies to the Catholic king; wherefore, if they would all +be baptized and serve the Spaniard, they should have some monkey's +allowance or other of more kicks than pence; and if not, then have +at them with fire and sword; but I dare say your worships know that +devilish trick of theirs better than I.” + +“I know it, man. Go on.” + +“Well--no sooner were the words spoken than, without waiting to hear +what the poor innocents within would answer (though that mattered +little, for they understood not one word of it), what do the villains +but let fly right into the town with their calivers, and then rush +in, sword in hand, killing pell-mell all they met, one of which shots, +gentlemen, passing through the doorway, and close by me, struck my poor +wife to the heart, that she never spoke word more. I, catching up the +babe from her breast, tried to run: but when I saw the town full of +them, and their dogs with them in leashes, which was yet worse, I knew +all was lost, and sat down again by the corpse with the babe on my +knees, waiting the end, like one stunned and in a dream; for now I +thought God from whom I had fled had surely found me out, as He did +Jonah, and the punishment of all my sins was come. Well, gentlemen, they +dragged me out, and all the young men and women, and chained us together +by the neck; and one, catching the pretty babe out of my arms, calls +for water and a priest (for they had their shavelings with them), and no +sooner was it christened than, catching the babe by the heels, he dashed +out its brains,--oh! gentlemen, gentlemen!--against the ground, as if it +had been a kitten; and so did they to several more innocents that night, +after they had christened them; saying it was best for them to go to +heaven while they were still sure thereof; and so marched us all for +slaves, leaving the old folk and the wounded to die at leisure. But when +morning came, and they knew by my skin that I was no Indian, and by my +speech that I was no Spaniard, they began threatening me with torments, +till I confessed that I was an Englishman, and one of Oxenham's crew. +At that says the leader, 'Then you shall to Lima, to hang by the side of +your captain the pirate;' by which I first knew that my poor captain was +certainly gone; but alas for me! the priest steps in and claims me for +his booty, calling me Lutheran, heretic, and enemy of God; and so, to +make short a sad story, to the Inquisition at Cartagena I went, where +what I suffered, gentlemen, were as disgustful for you to hear, as +unmanly for me to complain of; but so it was, that being twice racked, +and having endured the water-torment as best I could, I was put to the +scarpines, whereof I am, as you see, somewhat lame of one leg to this +day. At which I could abide no more, and so, wretch that I am! denied my +God, in hope to save my life; which indeed I did, but little it profited +me; for though I had turned to their superstition, I must have two +hundred stripes in the public place, and then go to the galleys for +seven years. And there, gentlemen, ofttimes I thought that it had been +better for me to have been burned at once and for all: but you know +as well as I what a floating hell of heat and cold, hunger and thirst, +stripes and toil, is every one of those accursed craft. In which hell, +nevertheless, gentlemen, I found the road to heaven,--I had almost said +heaven itself. For it fell out, by God's mercy, that my next comrade was +an Englishman like myself, a young man of Bristol, who, as he told me, +had been some manner of factor on board poor Captain Barker's ship, and +had been a preacher among the Anabaptists here in England. And, oh! Sir +Richard Grenville, if that man had done for you what he did for me, you +would never say a word against those who serve the same Lord, because +they don't altogether hold with you. For from time to time, sir, seeing +me altogether despairing and furious, like a wild beast in a pit, he set +before me in secret earnestly the sweet promises of God in Christ,--who +says, 'Come to me, all ye that are heavy laden, and I will refresh +you; and though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as +snow,--till all that past sinful life of mine looked like a dream when +one awaketh, and I forgot all my bodily miseries in the misery of my +soul, so did I loathe and hate myself for my rebellion against that +loving God who had chosen me before the foundation of the world, and +come to seek and save me when I was lost; and falling into very despair +at the burden of my heinous sins, knew no peace until I gained sweet +assurance that my Lord had hanged my burden upon His cross, and washed +my sinful soul in His most sinless blood, Amen!” + +And Sir Richard Grenville said Amen also. + +“But, gentlemen, if that sweet youth won a soul to Christ, he paid +as dearly for it as ever did saint of God. For after a three or four +months, when I had been all that while in sweet converse with him, and +I may say in heaven in the midst of hell, there came one night to the +barranco at Lima, where we were kept when on shore, three black devils +of the Holy Office, and carried him off without a word, only saying to +me, 'Look that your turn come not next, for we hear that you have had +much talk with the villain.' And at these words I was so struck cold +with terror that I swooned right away, and verily, if they had taken me +there and then, I should have denied my God again, for my faith was but +young and weak: but instead, they left me aboard the galley for a few +months more (that was a whole voyage to Panama and back), in daily dread +lest I should find myself in their cruel claws again--and then nothing +for me, but to burn as a relapsed heretic. But when we came back to +Lima, the officers came on board again, and said to me, 'That heretic +has confessed naught against you, so we will leave you for this time: +but because you have been seen talking with him so much, and the Holy +Office suspects your conversion to be but a rotten one, you are adjudged +to the galleys for the rest of your life in perpetual servitude.'” + +“But what became of him?” asked Amyas. + +“He was burned, sir, a day or two before we got to Lima, and five others +with him at the same stake, of whom two were Englishmen; old comrades of +mine, as I guess.” + +“Ah!” said Amyas, “we heard of that when we were off Lima; and they +said, too, that there were six more lying still in prison, to be burnt +in a few days. If we had had our fleet with us (as we should have had if +it had not been for John Winter) we would have gone in and rescued them +all, poor wretches, and sacked the town to boot: but what could we do +with one ship?” + +“Would to God you had, sir; for the story was true enough; and among +them, I heard, were two young ladies of quality and their confessor, +who came to their ends for reproving out of Scripture the filthy and +loathsome living of those parts, which, as I saw well enough and too +well, is liker to Sodom than to a Christian town; but God will avenge +His saints, and their sins. Amen.” + +“Amen,” said Sir Richard: “but on with thy tale, for it is as strange as +ever man heard.” + +“Well, gentlemen, when I heard that I must end my days in that galley, I +was for awhile like a madman: but in a day or two there came over me, I +know not how, a full assurance of salvation, both for this life and the +life to come, such as I had never had before; and it was revealed to me +(I speak the truth, gentlemen, before Heaven) that now I had been tried +to the uttermost, and that my deliverance was at hand. + +“And all the way up to Panama (that was after we had laden the +'Cacafuogo') I cast in my mind how to escape, and found no way: but just +as I was beginning to lose heart again, a door was opened by the Lord's +own hand; for (I know not why) we were marched across from Panama to +Nombre, which had never happened before, and there put all together into +a great barranco close by the quay-side, shackled, as is the fashion, to +one long bar that ran the whole length of the house. And the very first +night that we were there, I, looking out of the window, spied, lying +close aboard of the quay, a good-sized caravel well armed and just +loading for sea; and the land breeze blew off very strong, so that the +sailors were laying out a fresh warp to hold her to the shore. And it +came into my mind, that if we were aboard of her, we should be at sea +in five minutes; and looking at the quay, I saw all the soldiers who had +guarded us scattered about drinking and gambling, and some going into +taverns to refresh themselves after their journey. That was just at +sundown; and half an hour after, in comes the gaoler to take a last look +at us for the night, and his keys at his girdle. Whereon, sirs (whether +by madness, or whether by the spirit which gave Samson strength to rend +the lion), I rose against him as he passed me, without forethought or +treachery of any kind, chained though I was, caught him by the head, +and threw him there and then against the wall, that he never spoke word +after; and then with his keys freed myself and every soul in that +room, and bid them follow me, vowing to kill any man who disobeyed my +commands. They followed, as men astounded and leaping out of night into +day, and death into life, and so aboard that caravel and out of the +harbor (the Lord only knows how, who blinded the eyes of the idolaters), +'with no more hurt than a few chance-shot from the soldiers on the quay. +But my tale has been over-long already, gentlemen--” + +“Go on till midnight, my good fellow, if you will.” + +“Well, sirs, they chose me for captain, and a certain Genoese for +lieutenant, and away to go. I would fain have gone ashore after all, and +back to Panama to hear news of the little maid: but that would have been +but a fool's errand. Some wanted to turn pirates: but I, and the Genoese +too, who was a prudent man, though an evil one, persuaded them to run +for England and get employment in the Netherland wars, assuring them +that there would be no safety in the Spanish Main, when once our escape +got wind. And the more part being of one mind, for England we sailed, +watering at the Barbadoes because it was desolate; and so eastward +toward the Canaries. In which voyage what we endured (being taken by +long calms), by scurvy, calentures, hunger, and thirst, no tongue can +tell. Many a time were we glad to lay out sheets at night to catch +the dew, and suck them in the morning; and he that had a noggin of +rain-water out of the scuppers was as much sought to as if he had been +Adelantado of all the Indies; till of a hundred and forty poor wretches +a hundred and ten were dead, blaspheming God and man, and above all +me and the Genoese, for taking the Europe voyage, as if I had not sins +enough of my own already. And last of all, when we thought ourselves +safe, we were wrecked by southwesters on the coast of Brittany, near to +Cape Race, from which but nine souls of us came ashore with their lives; +and so to Brest, where I found a Flushinger who carried me to Falmouth +and so ends my tale, in which if I have said one word more or less than +truth, I can wish myself no worse, than to have it all to undergo a +second time.” + +And his voice, as he finished, sank from very weariness of soul; while +Sir Richard sat opposite him in silence, his elbows on the table, +his cheeks on his doubled fists, looking him through and through with +kindling eyes. No one spoke for several minutes; and then-- + +“Amyas, you have heard this story. You believe it?” + +“Every word, sir, or I should not have the heart of a Christian man.” + +“So do I. Anthony!” + +The butler entered. + +“Take this man to the buttery; clothe him comfortably, and feed him with +the best; and bid the knaves treat him as if he were their own father.” + +But Yeo lingered. + +“If I might be so bold as to ask your worship a favor?--” + +“Anything in reason, my brave fellow.” + +“If your worship could put me in the way of another adventure to the +Indies?” + +“Another! Hast not had enough of the Spaniards already?” + +“Never enough, sir, while one of the idolatrous tyrants is left +unhanged,” said he, with a right bitter smile. “But it's not for that +only, sir: but my little maid--Oh, sir! my little maid, that I swore to +Mr. Oxenham to look to, and never saw her from that day to this! I must +find her, sir, or I shall go mad, I believe. Not a night but she comes +and calls to me in my dreams, the poor darling; and not a morning but +when I wake there is my oath lying on my soul, like a great black cloud, +and I no nearer the keeping of it. I told that poor young minister of it +when we were in the galleys together; and he said oaths were oaths, and +keep it I must; and keep it I will, sir, if you'll but help me.” + +“Have patience, man. God will take as good care of thy little maid as +ever thou wilt.” + +“I know it, sir. I know it: but faith's weak, sir! and oh! if she were +bred up a Papist and an idolater; wouldn't her blood be on my head then, +sir? Sooner than that, sooner than that, I'd be in the Inquisition again +to-morrow, I would!” + +“My good fellow, there are no adventures to the Indies forward now: but +if you want to fight Spaniards, here is a gentleman will show you the +way. Amyas, take him with you to Ireland. If he has learnt half the +lessons God has set him to learn, he ought to stand you in good stead.” + +Yeo looked eagerly at the young giant. + +“Will you have me, sir? There's few matters I can't turn my hand to: +and maybe you'll be going to the Indies again, some day, eh? and take me +with you? I'd serve your turn well, though I say it, either for gunner +or for pilot. I know every stone and tree from Nombre to Panama, and all +the ports of both the seas. You'll never be content, I'll warrant, till +you've had another turn along the gold coasts, will you now?” + +Amyas laughed, and nodded; and the bargain was concluded. + +So out went Yeo to eat, and Amyas having received his despatches, got +ready for his journey home. + +“Go the short way over the moors, lad; and send back Cary's gray when +you can. You must not lose an hour, but be ready to sail the moment the +wind goes about.” + +So they started: but as Amyas was getting into the saddle, he saw that +there was some stir among the servants, who seemed to keep carefully out +of Yeo's way, whispering and nodding mysteriously; and just as his foot +was in the stirrup, Anthony, the old butler, plucked him back. + +“Dear father alive, Mr. Amyas!” whispered he: “and you ben't going by +the moor road all alone with that chap?” + +“Why not, then? I'm too big for him to eat, I reckon.” + +“Oh, Mr. Amyas! he's not right, I tell you; not company for a +Christian--to go forth with creatures as has flames of fire in their +inwards; 'tis temptation of Providence, indeed, then, it is.” + +“Tale of a tub.” + +“Tale of a Christian, sir. There was two boys pig-minding, seed him at +it down the hill, beside a maiden that was taken mazed (and no wonder, +poor soul!) and lying in screeching asterisks now down to the mill--you +ask as you go by--and saw the flames come out of the mouth of mun, and +the smoke out of mun's nose like a vire-drake, and the roaring of mun +like the roaring of ten thousand bulls. Oh, sir! and to go with he after +dark over moor! 'Tis the devil's devices, sir, against you, because +you'm going against his sarvants the Pope of Room and the Spaniard; and +you'll be Pixy-led, sure as life, and locked into a bog, you will, and +see mun vanish away to fire and brimstone, like a jack-o'-lantern. Oh, +have a care, then, have a care!” + +And the old man wrung his hands, while Amyas, bursting with laughter, +rode off down the park, with the unconscious Yeo at his stirrup, +chatting away about the Indies, and delighting Amyas more and more by +his shrewdness, high spirit, and rough eloquence. + +They had gone ten miles or more; the day began to draw in, and the +western wind to sweep more cold and cheerless every moment, when Amyas, +knowing that there was not an inn hard by around for many a mile ahead, +took a pull at a certain bottle which Lady Grenville had put into his +holster, and then offered Yeo a pull also. + +He declined; he had meat and drink too about him, Heaven be praised! + +“Meat and drink? Fall to, then, man, and don't stand on manners.” + +Whereon Yeo, seeing an old decayed willow by a brook, went to it, and +took therefrom some touchwood, to which he set a light with his knife +and a stone, while Amyas watched, a little puzzled and startled, +as Yeo's fiery reputation came into his mind. Was he really a +salamander-sprite, and going to warm his inside by a meal of burning +tinder? But now Yeo, in his solemn methodical way, pulled out of his +bosom a brown leaf, and began rolling a piece of it up neatly to the +size of his little finger; and then, putting the one end into his mouth +and the other on the tinder, sucked at it till it was a-light; and +drinking down the smoke, began puffing it out again at his nostrils with +a grunt of deepest satisfaction, and resumed his dog-trot by Amyas's +side, as if he had been a walking chimney. + +On which Amyas burst into a loud laugh, and cried-- + +“Why, no wonder they said you breathed fire? Is not that the Indians' +tobacco?” + +“Yea, verily, Heaven be praised! but did you never see it before?” + +“Never, though we heard talk of it along the coast; but we took it for +one more Spanish lie. Humph--well, live and learn!” + +“Ah, sir, no lie, but a blessed truth, as I can tell, who have ere now +gone in the strength of this weed three days and nights without eating; +and therefore, sir, the Indians always carry it with them on their +war-parties: and no wonder; for when all things were made none was made +better than this; to be a lone man's companion, a bachelor's friend, +a hungry man's food, a sad man's cordial, a wakeful man's sleep, and a +chilly man's fire, sir; while for stanching of wounds, purging of rheum, +and settling of the stomach, there's no herb like unto it under the +canopy of heaven.” + +The truth of which eulogium Amyas tested in after years, as shall be +fully set forth in due place and time. But “Mark in the meanwhile,” says +one of the veracious chroniclers from whom I draw these facts, writing +seemingly in the palmy days of good Queen Anne, and “not having” (as he +says) “before his eyes the fear of that misocapnic Solomon James I. or +of any other lying Stuart,” “that not to South Devon, but to North; not +to Sir Walter Raleigh, but to Sir Amyas Leigh; not to the banks of Dart, +but to the banks of Torridge, does Europe owe the day-spring of the +latter age, that age of smoke which shall endure and thrive, when the +age of brass shall have vanished like those of iron and of gold; for +whereas Mr. Lane is said to have brought home that divine weed (as +Spenser well names it) from Virginia, in the year 1584, it is hereby +indisputable that full four years earlier, by the bridge of Putford in +the Torridge moors (which all true smokers shall hereafter visit as a +hallowed spot and point of pilgrimage) first twinkled that fiery beacon +and beneficent lodestar of Bidefordian commerce, to spread hereafter +from port to port and peak to peak, like the watch-fires which +proclaimed the coming of the Armada or the fall of Troy, even to the +shores of the Bosphorus, the peaks of the Caucasus, and the farthest +isles of the Malayan sea, while Bideford, metropolis of tobacco, saw her +Pool choked with Virginian traders, and the pavement of her Bridgeland +Street groaning beneath the savory bales of roll Trinadado, leaf, and +pudding; and her grave burghers, bolstered and blocked out of their own +houses by the scarce less savory stock-fish casks which filled cellar, +parlor, and attic, were fain to sit outside the door, a silver pipe +in every strong right hand, and each left hand chinking cheerfully the +doubloons deep lodged in the auriferous caverns of their trunk-hose; +while in those fairy-rings of fragrant mist, which circled round their +contemplative brows, flitted most pleasant visions of Wiltshire farmers +jogging into Sherborne fair, their heaviest shillings in their pockets, +to buy (unless old Aubrey lies) the lotus-leaf of Torridge for its +weight in silver, and draw from thence, after the example of the +Caciques of Dariena, supplies of inspiration much needed, then as now, +in those Gothamite regions. And yet did these improve, as Englishmen, +upon the method of those heathen savages; for the latter (so Salvation +Yeo reported as a truth, and Dampier's surgeon Mr. Wafer after him), +when they will deliberate of war or policy, sit round in the hut of the +chief; where being placed, enter to them a small boy with a cigarro of +the bigness of a rolling-pin and puffs the smoke thereof into the face +of each warrior, from the eldest to the youngest; while they, putting +their hand funnel-wise round their mouths, draw into the sinuosities of +the brain that more than Delphic vapor of prophecy; which boy presently +falls down in a swoon, and being dragged out by the heels and laid by to +sober, enter another to puff at the sacred cigarro, till he is dragged +out likewise; and so on till the tobacco is finished, and the seed of +wisdom has sprouted in every soul into the tree of meditation, bearing +the flowers of eloquence, and in due time the fruit of valiant action.” + With which quaint fact (for fact it is, in spite of the bombast) I end +the present chapter. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOW THE NOBLE BROTHERHOOD OF THE ROSE WAS FOUNDED + + “It is virtue, yea virtue, gentlemen, that maketh gentlemen; that + maketh the poor rich, the base-born noble, the subject a sovereign, + the deformed beautiful, the sick whole, the weak strong, the most + miserable most happy. There are two principal and peculiar gifts + in the nature of man, knowledge and reason; the one commandeth, and + the other obeyeth: these things neither the whirling wheel of + fortune can change, neither the deceitful cavillings of worldlings + separate, neither sickness abate, neither age abolish.”--LILLY's + Euphues, 1586. + +It now falls to my lot to write of the foundation of that most +chivalrous brotherhood of the Rose, which after a few years made itself +not only famous in its native country of Devon, but formidable, as will +be related hereafter, both in Ireland and in the Netherlands, in the +Spanish Main and the heart of South America. And if this chapter shall +seem to any Quixotic and fantastical, let them recollect that the +generation who spoke and acted thus in matters of love and honor were, +nevertheless, practised and valiant soldiers, and prudent and crafty +politicians; that he who wrote the “Arcadia” was at the same time, in +spite of his youth, one of the subtlest diplomatists of Europe; that +the poet of the “Faerie Queene” was also the author of “The State +of Ireland;” and if they shall quote against me with a sneer Lilly's +“Euphues” itself, I shall only answer by asking--Have they ever read +it? For if they have done so, I pity them if they have not found it, in +spite of occasional tediousness and pedantry, as brave, righteous, and +pious a book as man need look into: and wish for no better proof of +the nobleness and virtue of the Elizabethan age, than the fact that +“Euphues” and the “Arcadia” were the two popular romances of the day. It +may have suited the purposes of Sir Walter Scott, in his cleverly drawn +Sir Piercie Shafton, to ridicule the Euphuists, and that affectatam +comitatem of the travelled English of which Languet complains; but over +and above the anachronism of the whole character (for, to give but one +instance, the Euphuist knight talks of Sidney's quarrel with Lord Oxford +at least ten years before it happened), we do deny that Lilly's book +could, if read by any man of common sense, produce such a coxcomb, +whose spiritual ancestors would rather have been Gabriel Harvey and +Lord Oxford,--if indeed the former has not maligned the latter, and +ill-tempered Tom Nash maligned the maligner in his turn. + +But, indeed, there is a double anachronism in Sir Piercie; for he does +not even belong to the days of Sidney, but to those worse times which +began in the latter years of Elizabeth, and after breaking her mighty +heart, had full license to bear their crop of fools' heads in the +profligate days of James. Of them, perhaps, hereafter. And in the +meanwhile, let those who have not read “Euphues” believe that, if they +could train a son after the fashion of his Ephoebus, to the great +saving of their own money and his virtue, all fathers, even in these +money-making days, would rise up and call them blessed. Let us +rather open our eyes, and see in these old Elizabeth gallants our own +ancestors, showing forth with the luxuriant wildness of youth all the +virtues which still go to the making of a true Englishman. Let us not +only see in their commercial and military daring, in their political +astuteness, in their deep reverence for law, and in their solemn sense +of the great calling of the English nation, the antitypes or rather +the examples of our own: but let us confess that their chivalry is only +another garb of that beautiful tenderness and mercy which is now, as +it was then, the twin sister of English valor; and even in their +extravagant fondness for Continental manners and literature, let us +recognize that old Anglo-Norman teachableness and wide-heartedness, +which has enabled us to profit by the wisdom and civilization of all +ages and of all lands, without prejudice to our own distinctive national +character. + +And so I go to my story, which, if any one dislikes, he has but to turn +the leaf till he finds pasturage which suits him better. + +Amyas could not sail the next day, or the day after; for the southwester +freshened, and blew three parts of a gale dead into the bay. So having +got the “Mary Grenville” down the river into Appledore pool, ready to +start with the first shift of wind, he went quietly home; and when +his mother started on a pillion behind the old serving-man to ride +to Clovelly, where Frank lay wounded, he went in with her as far as +Bideford, and there met, coming down the High Street, a procession of +horsemen headed by Will Cary, who, clad cap-a-pie in a shining armor, +sword on thigh, and helmet at saddle-bow, looked as gallant a young +gentleman as ever Bideford dames peeped at from door and window. Behind +him, upon country ponies, came four or five stout serving-men, carrying +his lances and baggage, and their own long-bows, swords, and bucklers; +and behind all, in a horse-litter, to Mrs. Leigh's great joy, Master +Frank himself. He deposed that his wounds were only flesh-wounds, the +dagger having turned against his ribs; that he must see the last of +his brother; and that with her good leave he would not come home to +Burrough, but take up his abode with Cary in the Ship Tavern, close to +the Bridge-foot. This he did forthwith, and settling himself on a couch, +held his levee there in state, mobbed by all the gossips of the town, +not without white fibs as to who had brought him into that sorry plight. + +But in the meanwhile he and Amyas concocted a scheme, which was put +into effect the next day (being market-day); first by the innkeeper, who +began under Amyas's orders a bustle of roasting, boiling, and frying, +unparalleled in the annals of the Ship Tavern; and next by Amyas +himself, who, going out into the market, invited as many of his old +schoolfellows, one by one apart, as Frank had pointed out to him, to a +merry supper and a “rowse” thereon consequent; by which crafty scheme, +in came each of Rose Salterne's gentle admirers, and found himself, to +his considerable disgust, seated at the same table with six rivals, to +none of whom had he spoken for the last six months. However, all were +too well bred to let the Leighs discern as much; and they (though, of +course, they knew all) settled their guests, Frank on his couch lying +at the head of the table, and Amyas taking the bottom: and contrived, by +filling all mouths with good things, to save them the pain of speaking +to each other till the wine should have loosened their tongues and +warmed their hearts. In the meanwhile both Amyas and Frank, ignoring the +silence of their guests with the most provoking good-humor, chatted, +and joked, and told stories, and made themselves such good company, that +Will Cary, who always found merriment infectious, melted into a jest, +and then into another, and finding good-humor far more pleasant than +bad, tried to make Mr. Coffin laugh, and only made him bow, and to +make Mr. Fortescue laugh, and only made him frown; and unabashed +nevertheless, began playing his light artillery upon the waiters, till +he drove them out of the room bursting with laughter. + +So far so good. And when the cloth was drawn, and sack and sugar became +the order of the day, and “Queen and Bible” had been duly drunk with all +the honors, Frank tried a fresh move, and-- + +“I have a toast, gentlemen--here it is. 'The gentlemen of the Irish +wars; and may Ireland never be without a St. Leger to stand by a +Fortescue, a Fortescue to stand by a St. Leger, and a Chichester to +stand by both.'” + +Which toast of course involved the drinking the healths of the three +representatives of those families, and their returning thanks, and +paying a compliment each to the other's house: and so the ice cracked a +little further; and young Fortescue proposed the health of “Amyas Leigh +and all bold mariners;” to which Amyas replied by a few blunt kindly +words, “that he wished to know no better fortune than to sail round the +world again with the present company as fellow-adventurers, and so give +the Spaniards another taste of the men of Devon.” + +And by this time, the wine going down sweetly, caused the lips of them +that were asleep to speak; till the ice broke up altogether, and every +man began talking like a rational Englishman to the man who sat next +him. + +“And now, gentlemen,” said Frank, who saw that it was the fit moment +for the grand assault which he had planned all along; “let me give you +a health which none of you, I dare say, will refuse to drink with heart +and soul as well as with lips;--the health of one whom beauty and virtue +have so ennobled, that in their light the shadow of lowly birth +is unseen;--the health of one whom I would proclaim as peerless in +loveliness, were it not that every gentleman here has sisters, who might +well challenge from her the girdle of Venus: and yet what else dare +I say, while those same lovely ladies who, if they but use their own +mirrors, must needs be far better judges of beauty than I can be, have +in my own hearing again and again assigned the palm to her? Surely, if +the goddesses decide among themselves the question of the golden apple, +Paris himself must vacate the judgment-seat. Gentlemen, your hearts, I +doubt not, have already bid you, as my unworthy lips do now, to drink +'The Rose of Torridge.'” + +If the Rose of Torridge herself had walked into the room, she could +hardly have caused more blank astonishment than Frank's bold speech. +Every guest turned red, and pale, and red again, and looked at the other +as much as to say, “What right has any one but I to drink her? Lift +your glass, and I will dash it out of your hand;” but Frank, with sweet +effrontery, drank “The health of the Rose of Torridge, and a double +health to that worthy gentleman, whosoever he may be, whom she is fated +to honor with her love!” + +“Well done, cunning Frank Leigh!” cried blunt Will Cary; “none of us +dare quarrel with you now, however much we may sulk at each other. For +there's none of us, I'll warrant, but thinks that she likes him the best +of all; and so we are bound to believe that you have drunk our healths +all round.” + +“And so I have: and what better thing can you do, gentlemen, than to +drink each other's healths all round likewise: and so show yourselves +true gentlemen, true Christians, ay, and true lovers? For what is love +(let me speak freely to you, gentlemen and guests), what is love, but +the very inspiration of that Deity whose name is Love? Be sure that not +without reason did the ancients feign Eros to be the eldest of the gods, +by whom the jarring elements of chaos were attuned into harmony and +order. How, then, shall lovers make him the father of strife? Shall +Psyche wed with Cupid, to bring forth a cockatrice's egg? or the soul be +filled with love, the likeness of the immortals, to burn with envy and +jealousy, division and distrust? True, the rose has its thorn: but it +leaves poison and stings to the nettle. Cupid has his arrow: but he +hurls no scorpions. Venus is awful when despised, as the daughters of +Proetus found: but her handmaids are the Graces, not the Furies. Surely +he who loves aright will not only find love lovely, but become himself +lovely also. I speak not to reprehend you, gentlemen; for to you (as +your piercing wits have already perceived, to judge by your honorable +blushes) my discourse tends; but to point you, if you will but permit +me, to that rock which I myself have, I know not by what Divine good +hap, attained; if, indeed, I have attained it, and am not about to be +washed off again by the next tide.” + +Frank's rapid and fantastic oratory, utterly unexpected as it was, had +as yet left their wits no time to set their tempers on fire; but when, +weak from his wounds, he paused for breath, there was a haughty +murmur from more than one young gentleman, who took his speech as +an impertinent interference with each man's right to make a fool of +himself; and Mr. Coffin, who had sat quietly bolt upright, and looking +at the opposite wall, now rose as quietly, and with a face which tried +to look utterly unconcerned, was walking out of the room: another +minute, and Lady Bath's prophecy about the feast of the Lapithae might +have come true. + +But Frank's heart and head never failed him. + +“Mr. Coffin!” said he, in a tone which compelled that gentleman to turn +round, and so brought him under the power of a face which none could +have beheld for five minutes and borne malice, so imploring, tender, +earnest was it. “My dear Mr. Coffin! If my earnestness has made me +forget even for a moment the bounds of courtesy, let me entreat you to +forgive me. Do not add to my heavy griefs, heavy enough already, the +grief of losing a friend. Only hear me patiently to the end (generously, +I know, you will hear me); and then, if you are still incensed, I can +but again entreat your forgiveness a second time.” + +Mr. Coffin, to tell the truth, had at that time never been to Court; and +he was therefore somewhat jealous of Frank, and his Court talk, and his +Court clothes, and his Court company; and moreover, being the eldest +of the guests, and only two years younger than Frank himself, he was a +little nettled at being classed in the same category with some who were +scarce eighteen. And if Frank had given the least hint which seemed +to assume his own superiority, all had been lost: but when, instead +thereof, he sued in forma pauperis, and threw himself upon Coffin's +mercy, the latter, who was a true-hearted man enough, and after all had +known Frank ever since either of them could walk, had nothing to do but +to sit down again and submit, while Frank went on more earnestly than +ever. + +“Believe me; believe me, Mr. Coffin, and gentlemen all, I no more +arrogate to myself a superiority over you than does the sailor hurled +on shore by the surge fancy himself better than his comrade who is still +battling with the foam. For I too, gentlemen,--let me confess it, that +by confiding in you I may, perhaps, win you to confide in me,--have +loved, ay and do love, where you love also. Do not start. Is it a matter +of wonder that the sun which has dazzled you has dazzled me; that +the lodestone which has drawn you has drawn me? Do not frown, either, +gentlemen. I have learnt to love you for loving what I love, and to +admire you for admiring that which I admire. Will you not try the same +lesson: so easy, and, when learnt, so blissful? What breeds more close +communion between subjects than allegiance to the same queen? between +brothers, than duty to the same father? between the devout, than +adoration for the same Deity? And shall not worship for the same beauty +be likewise a bond of love between the worshippers? and each lover see +in his rival not an enemy, but a fellow-sufferer? You smile and say in +your hearts, that though all may worship, but one can enjoy; and that +one man's meat must be the poison of the rest. Be it so, though I deny +it. Shall we anticipate our own doom, and slay ourselves for fear of +dying? Shall we make ourselves unworthy of her from our very eagerness +to win her, and show ourselves her faithful knights, by cherishing +envy,--most unknightly of all sins? Shall we dream with the Italian +or the Spaniard that we can become more amiable in a lady's eyes, by +becoming hateful in the eyes of God and of each other? Will she love +us the better, if we come to her with hands stained in the blood of +him whom she loves better than us? Let us recollect ourselves rather, +gentlemen; and be sure that our only chance of winning her, if she be +worth winning, is to will what she wills, honor whom she honors, love +whom she loves. If there is to be rivalry among us, let it be a rivalry +in nobleness, an emulation in virtue. Let each try to outstrip the other +in loyalty to his queen, in valor against her foes, in deeds of courtesy +and mercy to the afflicted and oppressed; and thus our love will indeed +prove its own divine origin, by raising us nearer to those gods whose +gift it is. But yet I show you a more excellent way, and that is +charity. Why should we not make this common love to her, whom I am +unworthy to name, the sacrament of a common love to each other? Why +should we not follow the heroical examples of those ancient knights, who +having but one grief, one desire, one goddess, held that one heart was +enough to contain that grief, to nourish that desire, to worship that +divinity; and so uniting themselves in friendship till they became but +one soul in two bodies, lived only for each other in living only for +her, vowing as faithful worshippers to abide by her decision, to find +their own bliss in hers, and whomsoever she esteemed most worthy of +her love, to esteem most worthy also, and count themselves, by that her +choice, the bounden servants of him whom their mistress had condescended +to advance to the dignity of her master?--as I (not without hope that I +shall be outdone in generous strife) do here promise to be the faithful +friend, and, to my ability, the hearty servant, of him who shall be +honored with the love of the Rose of Torridge.” + +He ceased, and there was a pause. + +At last young Fortescue spoke. + +“I may be paying you a left-handed compliment, sir: but it seems to me +that you are so likely, in that case, to become your own faithful friend +and hearty servant (even if you have not borne off the bell already +while we have been asleep), that the bargain is hardly fair between such +a gay Italianist and us country swains.” + +“You undervalue yourself and your country, my dear sir. But set your +mind at rest. I know no more of that lady's mind than you do: nor shall +I know. For the sake of my own peace, I have made a vow neither to see +her, nor to hear, if possible, tidings of her, till three full years are +past. Dixi?” + +Mr. Coffin rose. + +“Gentlemen, I may submit to be outdone by Mr. Leigh in eloquence, but +not in generosity; if he leaves these parts for three years, I do so +also.” + +“And go in charity with all mankind,” said Cary. “Give us your hand, +old fellow. If you are a Coffin, you were sawn out of no wishy-washy +elm-board, but right heart-of-oak. I am going, too, as Amyas here can +tell, to Ireland away, to cool my hot liver in a bog, like a Jack-hare +in March. Come, give us thy neif, and let us part in peace. I was minded +to have fought thee this day--” + +“I should have been most happy, sir,” said Coffin. + +--“But now I am all love and charity to mankind. Can I have the pleasure +of begging pardon of the world in general, and thee in particular? Does +any one wish to pull my nose; send me an errand; make me lend him five +pounds; ay, make me buy a horse of him, which will be as good as giving +him ten? Come along! Join hands all round, and swear eternal friendship, +as brothers of the sacred order of the--of what. Frank Leigh? Open thy +mouth, Daniel, and christen us!” + +“The Rose!” said Frank quietly, seeing that his new love-philtre was +working well, and determined to strike while the iron was hot, and carry +the matter too far to carry it back again. + +“The Rose!” cried Cary, catching hold of Coffin's hand with his right, +and Fortescue's with his left. “Come, Mr. Coffin! Bend, sturdy oak! 'Woe +to the stiffnecked and stout-hearted!' says Scripture.” + +And somehow or other, whether it was Frank's chivalrous speech, or +Cary's fun, or Amyas's good wine, or the nobleness which lies in every +young lad's heart, if their elders will take the trouble to call it out, +the whole party came in to terms one by one, shook hands all round, and +vowed on the hilt of Amyas's sword to make fools of themselves no more, +at least by jealousy: but to stand by each other and by their lady-love, +and neither grudge nor grumble, let her dance with, flirt with, or marry +with whom she would; and in order that the honor of their peerless dame, +and the brotherhood which was named after her, might be spread through +all lands, and equal that of Angelica or Isonde of Brittany, they would +each go home, and ask their fathers' leave (easy enough to obtain in +those brave times) to go abroad wheresoever there were “good wars,” to +emulate there the courage and the courtesy of Walter Manny and Gonzalo +Fernandes, Bayard and Gaston de Foix. Why not? Sidney was the hero of +Europe at five-and-twenty; and why not they? + +And Frank watched and listened with one of his quiet smiles (his eyes, +as some folks' do, smiled even when his lips were still), and only said: +“Gentlemen, be sure that you will never repent this day.” + +“Repent?” said Cary. “I feel already as angelical as thou lookest, Saint +Silvertongue. What was it that sneezed?--the cat?” + +“The lion, rather, by the roar of it,” said Amyas, making a dash at the +arras behind him. “Why, here is a doorway here! and--” + +And rushing under the arras, through an open door behind, he returned, +dragging out by the head Mr. John Brimblecombe. + +Who was Mr. John Brimblecombe? + +If you have forgotten him, you have done pretty nearly what every one +else in the room had done. But you recollect a certain fat lad, son of +the schoolmaster, whom Sir Richard punished for tale-bearing three years +before, by sending him, not to Coventry, but to Oxford. That was the +man. He was now one-and-twenty, and a bachelor of Oxford, where he +had learnt such things as were taught in those days, with more or less +success; and he was now hanging about Bideford once more, intending to +return after Christmas and read divinity, that he might become a parson, +and a shepherd of souls in his native land. + +Jack was in person exceedingly like a pig: but not like every pig: not +in the least like the Devon pigs of those days, which, I am sorry to +say, were no more shapely than the true Irish greyhound who pays +Pat's “rint” for him; or than the lanky monsters who wallow in German +rivulets, while the village swineherd, beneath a shady lime, forgets his +fleas in the melody of a Jew's harp--strange mud-colored creatures, four +feet high and four inches thick, which look as if they had passed their +lives, as a collar of Oxford brawn is said to do, between two tight +boards. Such were then the pigs of Devon: not to be compared with the +true wild descendant of Noah's stock, high-withered, furry, grizzled, +game-flavored little rooklers, whereof many a sownder still grunted +about Swinley down and Braunton woods, Clovelly glens and Bursdon moor. +Not like these, nor like the tame abomination of those barbarous times, +was Jack: but prophetic in face, figure, and complexion, of Fisher Hobbs +and the triumphs of science. A Fisher Hobbs' pig of twelve stone, on +his hind-legs--that was what he was, and nothing else; and if you do not +know, reader, what a Fisher Hobbs is, you know nothing about pigs, +and deserve no bacon for breakfast. But such was Jack. The same plump +mulberry complexion, garnished with a few scattered black bristles; the +same sleek skin, looking always as if it was upon the point of bursting; +the same little toddling legs; the same dapper bend in the small of the +back; the same cracked squeak; the same low upright forehead, and tiny +eyes; the same round self-satisfied jowl; the same charming sensitive +little cocked nose, always on the look-out for a savory smell,--and +yet while watching for the best, contented with the worst; a pig of +self-helpful and serene spirit, as Jack was, and therefore, like him, +fatting fast while other pigs' ribs are staring through their skins. + +Such was Jack; and lucky it was for him that such he was; for it was +little that he got to fat him at Oxford, in days when a servitor meant +really a servant-student; and wistfully that day did his eyes, led by +his nose, survey at the end of the Ship Inn passage the preparations +for Amyas's supper. The innkeeper was a friend of his; for, in the first +place, they had lived within three doors of each other all their lives; +and next, Jack was quite pleasant company enough, beside being a +learned man and an Oxford scholar, to be asked in now and then to the +innkeeper's private parlor, when there were no gentlemen there, to +crack his little joke and tell his little story, sip the leavings of the +guests' sack, and sometimes help the host to eat the leavings of their +supper. And it was, perhaps, with some such hope that Jack trotted off +round the corner to the Ship that very afternoon; for that faithful +little nose of his, as it sniffed out of a back window of the school, +had given him warning of Sabean gales, and scents of Paradise, from the +inn kitchen below; so he went round, and asked for his pot of small ale +(his only luxury), and stood at the bar to drink it; and looked inward +with his little twinkling right eye, and sniffed inward with his little +curling right nostril, and beheld, in the kitchen beyond, salad in +stacks and fagots: salad of lettuce, salad of cress and endive, salad of +boiled coleworts, salad of pickled coleworts, salad of angelica, salad +of scurvy-wort, and seven salads more; for potatoes were not as yet, and +salads were during eight months of the year the only vegetable. And on +the dresser, and before the fire, whole hecatombs of fragrant victims, +which needed neither frankincense nor myrrh; Clovelly herrings and +Torridge salmon, Exmoor mutton and Stow venison, stubble geese and +woodcocks, curlew and snipe, hams of Hampshire, chitterlings of Taunton, +and botargos of Cadiz, such as Pantagruel himself might have devoured. +And Jack eyed them, as a ragged boy eyes the cakes in a pastrycook's +window; and thought of the scraps from the commoners' dinner, which were +his wages for cleaning out the hall; and meditated deeply on the unequal +distribution of human bliss. + +“Ah, Mr. Brimblecombe!” said the host, bustling out with knife and apron +to cool himself in the passage. “Here are doings! Nine gentlemen to +supper!” + +“Nine! Are they going to eat all that?” + +“Well, I can't say--that Mr. Amyas is as good as three to his trencher: +but still there's crumbs, Mr. Brimblecombe, crumbs; and waste not +want not is my doctrine; so you and I may have a somewhat to stay our +stomachs, about an eight o'clock.” + +“Eight?” said Jack, looking wistfully at the clock. “It's but four now. +Well, it's kind of you, and perhaps I'll look in.” + +“Just you step in now, and look to this venison. There's a breast! you +may lay your two fingers into the say there, and not get to the bottom +of the fat. That's Sir Richard's sending. He's all for them Leighs, and +no wonder, they'm brave lads, surely; and there's a saddle-o'-mutton! I +rode twenty miles for mun yesterday, I did, over beyond Barnstaple; and +five year old, Mr. John, it is, if ever five years was; and not a tooth +to mun's head, for I looked to that; and smelt all the way home like any +apple; and if it don't ate so soft as ever was scald cream, never you +call me Thomas Burman.” + +“Humph!” said Jack. “And that's their dinner. Well, some are born with a +silver spoon in their mouth.” + +“Some be born with roast beef in their mouths, and plum-pudding in +their pocket to take away the taste o' mun; and that's better than empty +spunes, eh?” + +“For them that get it,” said Jack. “But for them that don't--” And with +a sigh he returned to his small ale, and then lingered in and out of the +inn, watching the dinner as it went into the best room, where the guests +were assembled. + +And as he lounged there, Amyas went in, and saw him, and held out his +hand, and said-- + +“Hillo, Jack! how goes the world? How you've grown!” and passed +on;--what had Jack Brimblecombe to do with Rose Salterne? + +So Jack lingered on, hovering around the fragrant smell like a fly round +a honey-pot, till he found himself invisibly attracted, and as it were +led by the nose out of the passage into the adjoining room, and to that +side of the room where there was a door; and once there he could not +help hearing what passed inside; till Rose Salterne's name fell on his +ear. So, as it was ordained, he was taken in the fact. And now behold +him brought in red-hand to judgment, not without a kick or two from +the wrathful foot of Amyas Leigh. Whereat there fell on him a storm of +abuse, which, for the honor of that gallant company, I shall not give in +detail; but which abuse, strange to say, seemed to have no effect on the +impenitent and unabashed Jack, who, as soon as he could get his breath, +made answer fiercely, amid much puffing and blowing. + +“What business have I here? As much as any of you. If you had asked me +in, I would have come: but as you didn't, I came without asking.” + +“You shameless rascal!” said Cary. “Come if you were asked, where there +was good wine? I'll warrant you for that!” + +“Why,” said Amyas, “no lad ever had a cake at school but he would +dog him up one street and down another all day for the crumbs, the +trencher-scraping spaniel!” + +“Patience, masters!” said Frank. “That Jack's is somewhat of a gnathonic +and parasitic soul, or stomach, all Bideford apple-women know; but I +suspect more than Deus Venter has brought him hither.” + +“Deus eavesdropping, then. We shall have the whole story over the town +by to-morrow,” said another; beginning at that thought to feel somewhat +ashamed of his late enthusiasm. + +“Ah, Mr. Frank! You were always the only one that would stand up for me! +Deus Venter, quotha? 'Twas Deus Cupid, it was!” + +A roar of laughter followed this announcement. + +“What?” asked Frank; “was it Cupid, then, who sneezed approval to our +love, Jack, as he did to that of Dido and Aeneas?” + +But Jack went on desperately. + +“I was in the next room, drinking of my beer. I couldn't help that, +could I? And then I heard her name; and I couldn't help listening then. +Flesh and blood couldn't.” + +“Nor fat either!” + +“No, nor fat, Mr. Cary. Do you suppose fat men haven't souls to be saved +as well as thin ones, and hearts to burst, too, as well as stomachs? +Fat! Fat can feel, I reckon, as well as lean. Do you suppose there's +naught inside here but beer?” + +And he laid his hand, as Drayton might have said, on that stout bastion, +hornwork, ravelin, or demilune, which formed the outworks to the citadel +of his purple isle of man. + +“Naught but beer?--Cheese, I suppose?” + +“Bread?” + +“Beef?” + +“Love!” cried Jack. “Yes, Love!--Ay, you laugh; but my eyes are not so +grown up with fat but what I can see what's fair as well as you.” + +“Oh, Jack, naughty Jack, dost thou heap sin on sin, and luxury on +gluttony?” + +“Sin? If I sin, you sin: I tell you, and I don't care who knows it, I've +loved her these three years as well as e'er a one of you, I have. I've +thought o' nothing else, prayed for nothing else, God forgive me! And +then you laugh at me, because I'm a poor parson's son, and you fine +gentlemen: God made us both, I reckon. You?--you make a deal of giving +her up to-day. Why, it's what I've done for three miserable years as +ever poor sinner spent; ay, from the first day I said to myself, 'Jack, +if you can't have that pearl, you'll have none; and that you can't +have, for it's meat for your masters: so conquer or die.' And I couldn't +conquer. I can't help loving her, worshipping her, no more than you; and +I will die: but you needn't laugh meanwhile at me that have done as much +as you, and will do again.” + +“It is the old tale,” said Frank to himself; “whom will not love +transform into a hero?” + +And so it was. Jack's squeaking voice was firm and manly, his pig's +eyes flashed very fire, his gestures were so free and earnest, that the +ungainliness of his figure was forgotten; and when he finished with +a violent burst of tears, Frank, forgetting his wounds, sprang up and +caught him by the hand. + +“John Brimblecombe, forgive me! Gentlemen, if we are gentlemen, we +ought to ask his pardon. Has he not shown already more chivalry, more +self-denial, and therefore more true love, than any of us? My friends, +let the fierceness of affection, which we have used as an excuse for +many a sin of our own, excuse his listening to a conversation in which +he well deserved to bear a part.” + +“Ah,” said Jack, “you make me one of your brotherhood; and see if I do +not dare to suffer as much as any of you! You laugh? Do you fancy none +can use a sword unless he has a baker's dozen of quarterings in his +arms, or that Oxford scholars know only how to handle a pen?” + +“Let us try his metal,” said St. Leger. “Here's my sword, Jack; draw, +Coffin! and have at him.” + +“Nonsense!” said Coffin, looking somewhat disgusted at the notion of +fighting a man of Jack's rank; but Jack caught at the weapon offered to +him. + +“Give me a buckler, and have at any of you!” + +“Here's a chair bottom,” cried Cary; and Jack, seizing it in his left, +flourished his sword so fiercely, and called so loudly to Coffin to come +on, that all present found it necessary, unless they wished blood to be +spilt, to turn the matter off with a laugh: but Jack would not hear of +it. + +“Nay: if you will let me be of your brotherhood, well and good: but if +not, one or other I will fight: and that's flat.” + +“You see, gentlemen,” said Amyas, “we must admit him or die the death; +so we needs must go when Sir Urian drives. Come up, Jack, and take the +oaths. You admit him, gentlemen?” + +“Let me but be your chaplain,” said Jack, “and pray for your luck when +you're at the wars. If I do stay at home in a country curacy, 'tis not +much that you need be jealous of me with her, I reckon,” said Jack, with +a pathetical glance at his own stomach. + +“Sia!” said Cary: “but if he be admitted, it must be done according to +the solemn forms and ceremonies in such cases provided. Take him into +the next room, Amyas, and prepare him for his initiation.” + +“What's that?” asked Amyas, puzzled by the word. But judging from the +corner of Will's eye that initiation was Latin for a practical joke, +he led forth his victim behind the arras again, and waited five minutes +while the room was being darkened, till Frank's voice called to him to +bring in the neophyte. + +“John Brimblecombe,” said Frank, in a sepulchral tone, “you cannot be +ignorant, as a scholar and bachelor of Oxford, of that dread sacrament +by which Catiline bound the soul of his fellow-conspirators, in order +that both by the daring of the deed he might have proof of their +sincerity, and by the horror thereof astringe their souls by adamantine +fetters, and Novem-Stygian oaths, to that wherefrom hereafter the +weakness of the flesh might shrink. Wherefore, O Jack! we too have +determined, following that ancient and classical example, to fill, as he +did, a bowl with the lifeblood of our most heroic selves, and to pledge +each other therein, with vows whereat the stars shall tremble in their +spheres, and Luna, blushing, veil her silver cheeks. Your blood alone is +wanted to fill up the goblet. Sit down, John Brimblecombe, and bare your +arm!” + +“But, Mr. Frank!--” said Jack, who was as superstitious as any old +wife, and, what with the darkness and the discourse, already in a cold +perspiration. + +“But me no buts! or depart as recreant, not by the door like a man, but +up the chimney like a flittermouse.” + +“But, Mr. Frank!” + +“Thy vital juice, or the chimney! Choose!” roared Cary in his ear. + +“Well, if I must,” said Jack; “but it's desperate hard that because you +can't keep faith without these barbarous oaths, I must take them too, +that have kept faith these three years without any.” + +At this pathetic appeal Frank nearly melted: but Amyas and Cary had +thrust the victim into a chair and all was prepared for the sacrifice. + +“Bind his eyes, according to the classic fashion,” said Will. + +“Oh no, dear Mr. Cary; I'll shut them tight enough, I warrant: but not +with your dagger, dear Mr. William--sure, not with your dagger? I can't +afford to lose blood, though I do look lusty--I can't indeed; sure, a +pin would do--I've got one here, to my sleeve, somewhere--Oh!” + +“See the fount of generous juice! Flow on, fair stream. How he +bleeds!--pints, quarts! Ah, this proves him to be in earnest!” + +“A true lover's blood is always at his fingers' ends.” + +“He does not grudge it; of course not. Eh, Jack? What matters an odd +gallon for her sake?” + +“For her sake? Nothing, nothing! Take my life, if you will: but--oh, +gentlemen, a surgeon, if you love me! I'm going off--I 'm fainting!” + +“Drink, then, quick; drink and swear! Pat his back, Cary. Courage, man! +it will be over in a minute. Now, Frank!--” + +And Frank spoke-- + + +“If plighted troth I fail, or secret speech reveal, May Cocytean ghosts +around my pillow squeal; While Ate's brazen claws distringe my spleen +in sunder, And drag me deep to Pluto's keep, 'mid brimstone, smoke, and +thunder!” + + +“Placetne, domine?” + +“Placet!” squeaked Jack, who thought himself at the last gasp, and +gulped down full three-quarters of the goblet which Cary held to his +lips. + +“Ugh--Ah--Puh! Mercy on us! It tastes mighty like wine!” + +“A proof, my virtuous brother,” said Frank, “first, of thy +abstemiousness, which has thus forgotten what wine tastes like; and +next, of thy pure and heroical affection, by which thy carnal senses +being exalted to a higher and supra-lunar sphere, like those Platonical +daemonizomenoi and enthusiazomenoi (of whom Jamblichus says that they +were insensible to wounds and flame, and much more, therefore, to evil +savors), doth make even the most nauseous draught redolent of that +celestial fragrance, which proceeding, O Jack! from thine own inward +virtue, assimilates by sympathy even outward accidents unto its own +harmony and melody; for fragrance is, as has been said well, the song +of flowers, and sweetness, the music of apples--Ahem! Go in peace, thou +hast conquered!” + +“Put him out of the door, Will,” said Amyas, “or he will swoon on our +hands.” + +“Give him some sack,” said Frank. + +“Not a blessed drop of yours, sir,” said Jack. “I like good wine as well +as any man on earth, and see as little of it; but not a drop of +yours, sirs, after your frumps and flouts about hanging-on and +trencher-scraping. When I first began to love her, I bid good-bye to all +dirty tricks; for I had some one then for whom to keep myself clean.” + +And so Jack was sent home, with a pint of good red Alicant wine in him +(more, poor fellow, than he had tasted at once in his life before); +while the rest, in high glee with themselves and the rest of the world, +relighted the candles, had a right merry evening, and parted like good +friends and sensible gentlemen of devon, thinking (all except Frank) +Jack Brimblecombe and his vow the merriest jest they had heard for +many a day. After which they all departed: Amyas and Cary to Winter's +squadron; Frank (as soon as he could travel) to the Court again; +and with him young Basset, whose father Sir Arthur, being in London, +procured for him a page's place in Leicester's household. Fortescue and +Chicester went to their brothers in Dublin; St. Leger to his uncle +the Marshal of Munster; Coffin joined Champernoun and Norris in the +Netherlands; and so the Brotherhood of the Rose was scattered far and +wide, and Mistress Salterne was left alone with her looking-glass. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HOW AMYAS KEPT HIS CHRISTMAS DAY + + “Take aim, you noble musqueteers, + And shoot you round about; + Stand to it, valiant pikemen, + And we shall keep them out. + There's not a man of all of us + A foot will backward flee; + I'll be the foremost man in fight, + Says brave Lord Willoughby!” + + Elizabethan Ballad. + +It was the blessed Christmas afternoon. The light was fading down; the +even-song was done; and the good folks of Bideford were trooping home +in merry groups, the father with his children, the lover with his +sweetheart, to cakes and ale, and flapdragons and mummer's plays, and +all the happy sports of Christmas night. One lady only, wrapped close in +her black muffler and followed by her maid, walked swiftly, yet sadly, +toward the long causeway and bridge which led to Northam town. +Sir Richard Grenville and his wife caught her up and stopped her +courteously. + +“You will come home with us, Mrs. Leigh,” said Lady Grenville, “and +spend a pleasant Christmas night?” + +Mrs. Leigh smiled sweetly, and laying one hand on Lady Grenville's arm, +pointed with the other to the westward, and said: + +“I cannot well spend a merry Christmas night while that sound is in my +ears.” + +The whole party around looked in the direction in which she pointed. +Above their heads the soft blue sky was fading into gray, and here and +there a misty star peeped out: but to the westward, where the downs and +woods of Raleigh closed in with those of Abbotsham, the blue was webbed +and turfed with delicate white flakes; iridescent spots, marking the +path by which the sun had sunk, showed all the colors of the dying +dolphin; and low on the horizon lay a long band of grassy green. But +what was the sound which troubled Mrs. Leigh? None of them, with their +merry hearts, and ears dulled with the din and bustle of the town, had +heard it till that moment: and yet now--listen! It was dead calm. There +was not a breath to stir a blade of grass. And yet the air was full of +sound, a low deep roar which hovered over down and wood, salt-marsh and +river, like the roll of a thousand wheels, the tramp of endless armies, +or--what it was--the thunder of a mighty surge upon the boulders of the +pebble ridge. + +“The ridge is noisy to-night,” said Sir Richard. “There has been wind +somewhere.” + +“There is wind now, where my boy is, God help him!” said Mrs. Leigh: and +all knew that she spoke truly. The spirit of the Atlantic storm had sent +forward the token of his coming, in the smooth ground-swell which was +heard inland, two miles away. To-morrow the pebbles, which were now +rattling down with each retreating wave, might be leaping to the ridge +top, and hurled like round-shot far ashore upon the marsh by the +force of the advancing wave, fleeing before the wrath of the western +hurricane. + +“God help my boy!” said Mrs. Leigh again. + +“God is as near him by sea as by land,” said good Sir Richard. + +“True, but I am a lone mother; and one that has no heart just now but to +go home and pray.” + +And so Mrs. Leigh went onward up the lane, and spent all that night in +listening between her prayers to the thunder of the surge, till it was +drowned, long ere the sun rose, in the thunder of the storm. + +And where is Amyas on this same Christmas afternoon? + +Amyas is sitting bareheaded in a boat's stern in Smerwick bay, with the +spray whistling through his curls, as he shouts cheerfully-- + +“Pull, and with a will, my merry men all, and never mind shipping a sea. +Cannon balls are a cargo that don't spoil by taking salt-water.” + +His mother's presage has been true enough. Christmas eve has been the +last of the still, dark, steaming nights of the early winter; and the +western gale has been roaring for the last twelve hours upon the Irish +coast. + +The short light of the winter day is fading fast. Behind him is a +leaping line of billows lashed into mist by the tempest. Beside him +green foam-fringed columns are rushing up the black rocks, and falling +again in a thousand cataracts of snow. Before him is the deep and +sheltered bay: but it is not far up the bay that he and his can see; for +some four miles out at sea begins a sloping roof of thick gray cloud, +which stretches over their heads, and up and far away inland, cutting +the cliffs off at mid-height, hiding all the Kerry mountains, and +darkening the hollows of the distant firths into the blackness of night. +And underneath that awful roof of whirling mist the storm is howling +inland ever, sweeping before it the great foam-sponges, and the gray +salt spray, till all the land is hazy, dim, and dun. Let it howl on! for +there is more mist than ever salt spray made, flying before that gale; +more thunder than ever sea-surge wakened echoing among the cliffs of +Smerwick bay; along those sand-hills flash in the evening gloom red +sparks which never came from heaven; for that fort, now christened by +the invaders the Fort Del Oro, where flaunts the hated golden flag of +Spain, holds San Josepho and eight hundred of the foe; and but three +nights ago, Amyas and Yeo, and the rest of Winter's shrewdest hands, +slung four culverins out of the Admiral's main deck, and floated them +ashore, and dragged them up to the battery among the sand-hills; and now +it shall be seen whether Spanish and Italian condottieri can hold their +own on British ground against the men of Devon. + +Small blame to Amyas if he was thinking, not of his lonely mother at +Burrough Court, but of those quick bright flashes on sand-hill and +on fort, where Salvation Yeo was hurling the eighteen-pound shot with +deadly aim, and watching with a cool and bitter smile of triumph the +flying of the sand, and the crashing of the gabions. Amyas and his party +had been on board, at the risk of their lives, for a fresh supply of +shot; for Winter's battery was out of ball, and had been firing stones +for the last four hours, in default of better missiles. They ran the +boat on shore through the surf, where a cove in the shore made landing +possible, and almost careless whether she stove or not, scrambled +over the sand-hills with each man his brace of shot slung across his +shoulder; and Amyas, leaping into the trenches, shouted cheerfully to +Salvation Yeo-- + +“More food for the bull-dogs, Gunner, and plums for the Spaniards' +Christmas pudding!” + +“Don't speak to a man at his business, Master Amyas. Five mortal times +have I missed; but I will have that accursed Popish rag down, as I'm a +sinner.” + +“Down with it, then; nobody wants you to shoot crooked. Take good iron +to it, and not footy paving-stones.” + +“I believe, sir, that the foul fiend is there, a turning of my shot +aside, I do. I thought I saw him once: but, thank Heaven, here's ball +again. Ah, sir, if one could but cast a silver one! Now, stand by, men!” + +And once again Yeo's eighteen-pounder roared, and away. And, oh glory! +the great yellow flag of Spain, which streamed in the gale, lifted +clean into the air, flagstaff and all, and then pitched wildly down +head-foremost, far to leeward. + +A hurrah from the sailors, answered by the soldiers of the opposite +camp, shook the very cloud above them: but ere its echoes had died away, +a tall officer leapt upon the parapet of the fort, with the fallen flag +in his hand, and rearing it as well as he could upon his lance point, +held it firmly against the gale, while the fallen flagstaff was raised +again within. + +In a moment a dozen long bows were bent at the daring foeman: but Amyas +behind shouted-- + +“Shame, lads! Stop and let the gallant gentleman have due courtesy!” + +So they stopped, while Amyas, springing on the rampart of the battery, +took off his hat, and bowed to the flag-holder, who, as soon as relieved +of his charge, returned the bow courteously, and descended. + +It was by this time all but dark, and the firing began to slacken on +all sides; Salvation and his brother gunners, having covered up their +slaughtering tackle with tarpaulings, retired for the night, leaving +Amyas, who had volunteered to take the watch till midnight; and the rest +of the force having got their scanty supper of biscuit (for provisions +were running very short) lay down under arms among the sand-hills, and +grumbled themselves to sleep. + +He had paced up and down in the gusty darkness for some hour or more, +exchanging a passing word now and then with the sentinel, when two +men entered the battery, chatting busily together. One was in complete +armor; the other wrapped in the plain short cloak of a man of pens +and peace: but the talk of both was neither of sieges nor of sallies, +catapult, bombard, nor culverin, but simply of English hexameters. + +And fancy not, gentle reader, that the two were therein fiddling while +Rome was burning; for the commonweal of poetry and letters, in that same +critical year 1580, was in far greater danger from those same hexameters +than the common woe of Ireland (as Raleigh called it) was from the +Spaniards. + +Imitating the classic metres, “versifying,” as it was called in +contradistinction to rhyming, was becoming fast the fashion among the +more learned. Stonyhurst and others had tried their hands at hexameter +translations from the Latin and Greek epics, which seem to have been +doggerel enough; and ever and anon some youthful wit broke out in +iambics, sapphics, elegiacs, and what not, to the great detriment of the +queen's English and her subjects' ears. + +I know not whether Mr. William Webbe had yet given to the world any +fragments of his precious hints for the “Reformation of English poetry,” + to the tune of his own “Tityrus, happily thou liest tumbling under a +beech-tree:” but the Cambridge Malvolio, Gabriel Harvey, had succeeded +in arguing Spenser, Dyer, Sidney, and probably Sidney's sister, and the +whole clique of beaux-esprits round them, into following his model of + + “What might I call this tree? A laurel? O bonny laurel! + Needes to thy bowes will I bowe this knee, and vail my bonetto;” + +after snubbing the first book of “that Elvish Queene,” which was then +in manuscript, as a base declension from the classical to the romantic +school. + +And now Spenser (perhaps in mere melancholy wilfulness and want of +purpose, for he had just been jilted by a fair maid of Kent) was wasting +his mighty genius upon doggerel which he fancied antique; and some +piratical publisher (bitter Tom Nash swears, and with likelihood that +Harvey did it himself) had just given to the world,--“Three proper +wittie and familiar Letters, lately past between two University +men, touching the Earthquake in April last, and our English reformed +Versifying,” which had set all town wits a-buzzing like a swarm of +flies, being none other than a correspondence between Spenser and +Harvey, which was to prove to the world forever the correctness and +melody of such lines as, + + “For like magnificoes, not a beck but glorious in show, + In deede most frivolous, not a looke but Tuscanish always.” + +Let them pass--Alma Mater has seen as bad hexameters since. But then the +matter was serious. There is a story (I know not how true) that Spenser +was half bullied into re-writing the “Faerie Queene” in hexameters, had +not Raleigh, a true romanticist, “whose vein for ditty or amorous ode +was most lofty, insolent, and passionate,” persuaded him to follow +his better genius. The great dramatists had not yet arisen, to form +completely that truly English school, of which Spenser, unconscious of +his own vast powers, was laying the foundation. And, indeed, it was not +till Daniel, twenty years after, in his admirable apology for rhyme, had +smashed Mr. Campian and his “eight several kinds of classical numbers,” + that the matter was finally settled, and the English tongue left to go +the road on which Heaven had started it. So that we may excuse Raleigh's +answering somewhat waspish to some quotation of Spenser's from the three +letters of “Immerito and G. H.” + +“Tut, tut, Colin Clout, much learning has made thee mad. A good old +fishwives' ballad jingle is worth all your sapphics and trimeters, and +'riff-raff thurlery bouncing.' Hey? have I you there, old lad? Do you +mind that precious verse?” + +“But, dear Wat, Homer and Virgil--” + +“But, dear Ned, Petrarch and Ovid--” + +“But, Wat, what have we that we do not owe to the ancients?” + +“Ancients, quotha? Why, the legend of King Arthur, and Chevy Chase too, +of which even your fellow-sinner Sidney cannot deny that every time +he hears it even from a blind fiddler it stirs his heart like a +trumpet-blast. Speak well of the bridge that carries you over, man! Did +you find your Redcross Knight in Virgil, or such a dame as Una in old +Ovid? No more than you did your Pater and Credo, you renegado baptized +heathen, you!” + +“Yet, surely, our younger and more barbarous taste must bow before +divine antiquity, and imitate afar--” + +“As dottrels do fowlers. If Homer was blind, lad, why dost not poke +out thine eye? Ay, this hexameter is of an ancient house, truly, Ned +Spenser, and so is many a rogue: but he cannot make way on our rough +English roads. He goes hopping and twitching in our language like a +three-legged terrier over a pebble-bank, tumble and up again, rattle and +crash.” + +“Nay, hear, now-- + + 'See ye the blindfolded pretty god that feathered archer, + Of lovers' miseries which maketh his bloody game?' * + +True, the accent gapes in places, as I have often confessed to Harvey, +but--” + + * Strange as it may seem, this distich is Spenser's own; and + the other hexameters are all authentic. + +Harvey be hanged for a pedant, and the whole crew of versifiers, from +Lord Dorset (but he, poor man, has been past hanging some time since) +to yourself! Why delude you into playing Procrustes as he does with the +queen's English, racking one word till its joints be pulled asunder, and +squeezing the next all a-heap as the Inquisitors do heretics in their +banca cava? Out upon him and you, and Sidney, and the whole kin. You +have not made a verse among you, and never will, which is not as lame a +gosling as Harvey's own-- + + 'Oh thou weathercocke, that stands on the top of Allhallows, + Come thy ways down, if thou dar'st for thy crown, and take the wall + on us.' + +“Hark, now! There is our young giant comforting his soul with a ballad. +You will hear rhyme and reason together here, now. He will not miscall +'blind-folded,' 'blind-fold-ed, I warrant; or make an 'of' and a 'which' +and a 'his' carry a whole verse on their wretched little backs.” + +And as he spoke, Amyas, who had been grumbling to himself some Christmas +carol, broke out full-mouthed:-- + + “As Joseph was a-walking + He heard an angel sing-- + 'This night shall be the birth night + Of Christ, our heavenly King. + + His birthbed shall be neither + In housen nor in hall, + Nor in the place of paradise, + But in the oxen's stall. + + He neither shall be rocked + In silver nor in gold, + But in the wooden manger + That lieth on the mould. + + He neither shall be washen + With white wine nor with red, + But with the fair spring water + That on you shall be shed. + + He neither shall be clothed + In purple nor in pall, + But in the fair white linen + That usen babies all.' + + As Joseph was a-walking + Thus did the angel sing, + And Mary's Son at midnight + Was born to be our King. + + Then be you glad, good people, + At this time of the year; + And light you up your candles, + For His star it shineth clear.” + +“There, Edmunde Classicaster,” said Raleigh, “does not that simple +strain go nearer to the heart of him who wrote 'The Shepherd's +Calendar,' than all artificial and outlandish + + 'Wote ye why his mother with a veil hath covered his face?' + +Why dost not answer, man?” + +But Spenser was silent awhile, and then,-- + +“Because I was thinking rather of the rhymer than the rhyme. Good +heaven! how that brave lad shames me, singing here the hymns which his +mother taught him, before the very muzzles of Spanish guns; instead of +bewailing unmanly, as I have done, the love which he held, I doubt not, +as dear as I did even my Rosalind. This is his welcome to the winter's +storm; while I, who dream, forsooth, of heavenly inspiration, can but +see therein an image of mine own cowardly despair. + + 'Thou barren ground, whom winter's wrath has wasted, + Art made a mirror to behold my plight.'* + +Pah! away with frosts, icicles, and tears, and sighs--” + + * “The Shepherd's Calendar.” + +“And with hexameters and trimeters too, I hope,” interrupted Raleigh: +“and all the trickeries of self-pleasing sorrow.” + +“--I will set my heart to higher work than barking at the hand which +chastens me.” + +“Wilt put the lad into the 'Faerie Queene,' then, by my side? He +deserves as good a place there, believe me, as ever a Guyon, or even as +Lord Grey your Arthegall. Let us hail him. Hallo! young chanticleer of +Devon! Art not afraid of a chance shot, that thou crowest so lustily +upon thine own mixen?” + +“Cocks crow all night long at Christmas, Captain Raleigh, and so do I,” + said Amyas's cheerful voice; “but who's there with you?” + +“A penitent pupil of yours--Mr. Secretary Spenser.” + +“Pupil of mine?” said Amyas. “I wish he'd teach me a little of his art; +I could fill up my time here with making verses.” + +“And who would be your theme, fair sir?” said Spenser. + +“No 'who' at all. I don't want to make sonnets to blue eyes, nor black +either: but if I could put down some of the things I saw in the Spice +Islands--” + +“Ah,” said Raleigh, “he would beat you out of Parnassus, Mr. Secretary. +Remember, you may write about Fairyland, but he has seen it.” + +“And so have others,” said Spenser; “it is not so far off from any one +of us. Wherever is love and loyalty, great purposes, and lofty souls, +even though in a hovel or a mine, there is Fairyland.” + +“Then Fairyland should be here, friend; for you represent love, and +Leigh loyalty; while, as for great purposes and lofty souls, who so fit +to stand for them as I, being (unless my enemies and my conscience are +liars both) as ambitious and as proud as Lucifer's own self?” + +“Ah, Walter, Walter, why wilt always slander thyself thus?” + +“Slander? Tut.--I do but give the world a fair challenge, and tell it, +'There--you know the worst of me: come on and try a fall, for either +you or I must down.' Slander? Ask Leigh here, who has but known me a +fortnight, whether I am not as vain as a peacock, as selfish as a fox, +as imperious as a bona roba, and ready to make a cat's paw of him or any +man, if there be a chestnut in the fire: and yet the poor fool cannot +help loving me, and running of my errands, and taking all my schemes and +my dreams for gospel; and verily believes now, I think, that I shall be +the man in the moon some day, and he my big dog.” + +“Well,” said Amyas, half apologetically, “if you are the cleverest man +in the world what harm in my thinking so?” + +“Hearken to him, Edmund! He will know better when he has outgrown this +same callow trick of honesty, and learnt of the great goddess Detraction +how to show himself wiser than the wise, by pointing out to the world +the fool's motley which peeps through the rents in the philosopher's +cloak. Go to, lad! slander thy equals, envy thy betters, pray for an eye +which sees spots in every sun, and for a vulture's nose to scent +carrion in every rose-bed. If thy friend win a battle, show that he has +needlessly thrown away his men; if he lose one, hint that he sold it; +if he rise to a place, argue favor; if he fall from one, argue divine +justice. Believe nothing, hope nothing, but endure all things, even to +kicking, if aught may be got thereby; so shalt thou be clothed in purple +and fine linen, and sit in kings' palaces, and fare sumptuously every +day.” + +“And wake with Dives in the torment,” said Amyas. “Thank you for +nothing, captain.” + +“Go to, Misanthropos,” said Spenser. “Thou hast not yet tasted the +sweets of this world's comfits, and thou railest at them?” + +“The grapes are sour, lad.” + +“And will be to the end,” said Amyas, “if they come off such a devil's +tree as that. I really think you are out of your mind, Captain Raleigh, +at times.” + +“I wish I were; for it is a troublesome, hungry, windy mind as man ever +was cursed withal. But come in, lad. We were sent from the lord deputy +to bid thee to supper. There is a dainty lump of dead horse waiting for +thee.” + +“Send me some out, then,” said matter-of-fact Amyas. “And tell his +lordship that, with his good leave, I don't stir from here till morning, +if I can keep awake. There is a stir in the fort, and I expect them out +on us.” + +“Tut, man! their hearts are broken. We know it by their deserters.” + +“Seeing's believing. I never trust runaway rogues. If they are false to +their masters, they'll be false to us.” + +“Well, go thy ways, old honesty; and Mr. Secretary shall give you a +book to yourself in the 'Faerie Queene'--'Sir Monoculus or the Legend of +Common Sense,' eh, Edmund?” + +“Monoculus?” + +“Ay, Single-eye, my prince of word-coiners--won't that fit?--And give +him the Cyclops head for a device. Heigh-ho! They may laugh that win. +I am sick of this Irish work; were it not for the chance of advancement +I'd sooner be driving a team of red Devons on Dartside; and now I am +angry with the dear lad because he is not sick of it too. What a plague +business has he to be paddling up and down, contentedly doing his duty, +like any city watchman? It is an insult to the mighty aspirations of our +nobler hearts,--eh, my would-be Ariosto?” + +“Ah, Raleigh! you can afford to confess yourself less than some, for you +are greater than all. Go on and conquer, noble heart! But as for me, I +sow the wind, and I suppose I shall reap the whirlwind.” + +“Your harvest seems come already; what a blast that was! Hold on by me, +Colin Clout, and I'll hold on by thee. So! Don't tread on that pikeman's +stomach, lest he take thee for a marauding Don, and with sudden dagger +slit Cohn's pipe, and Colin's weasand too.” + +And the two stumbled away into the darkness, leaving Amyas to stride up +and down as before, puzzling his brains over Raleigh's wild words and +Spenser's melancholy, till he came to the conclusion that there was some +mysterious connection between cleverness and unhappiness, and thanking +his stars that he was neither scholar, courtier, nor poet, said grace +over his lump of horseflesh when it arrived, devoured it as if it had +been venison, and then returned to his pacing up and down; but this time +in silence, for the night was drawing on, and there was no need to tell +the Spaniards that any one was awake and watching. + +So he began to think about his mother, and how she might be spending +her Christmas; and then about Frank, and wondered at what grand Court +festival he was assisting, amid bright lights and sweet music and gay +ladies, and how he was dressed, and whether he thought of his brother +there far away on the dark Atlantic shore; and then he said his prayers +and his creed; and then he tried not to think of Rose Salterne, and of +course thought about her all the more. So on passed the dull hours, till +it might be past eleven o'clock, and all lights were out in the battery +and the shipping, and there was no sound of living thing but the +monotonous tramp of the two sentinels beside him, and now and then a +grunt from the party who slept under arms some twenty yards to the rear. + +So he paced to and fro, looking carefully out now and then over the +strip of sand-hill which lay between him and the fort; but all was blank +and black, and moreover it began to rain furiously. + +Suddenly he seemed to hear a rustle among the harsh sand-grass. True, +the wind was whistling through it loudly enough, but that sound was +not altogether like the wind. Then a soft sliding noise; something had +slipped down a bank, and brought the sand down after it. Amyas stopped, +crouched down beside a gun, and laid his ear to the rampart, whereby +he heard clearly, as he thought, the noise of approaching feet; whether +rabbits or Christians, he knew not, but he shrewdly guessed the latter. + +Now Amyas was of a sober and business-like turn, at least when he was +not in a passion; and thinking within himself that if he made any noise, +the enemy (whether four or two-legged) would retire, and all the sport +be lost, he did not call to the two sentries, who were at the opposite +ends of the battery; neither did he think it worth while to rouse the +sleeping company, lest his ears should have deceived him, and the whole +camp turn out to repulse the attack of a buck rabbit. + +So he crouched lower and lower beside the culverin, and was rewarded in +a minute or two by hearing something gently deposited against the mouth +of the embrasure, which, by the noise, should be a piece of timber. + +“So far, so good,” said he to himself; “when the scaling ladder is up, +the soldier follows, I suppose. I can only humbly thank them for giving +my embrasure the preference. There he comes! I hear his feet scuffling.” + +He could hear plainly enough some one working himself into the mouth of +the embrasure: but the plague was, that it was so dark that he could +not see his hand between him and the sky, much less his foe at two yards +off. However, he made a pretty fair guess as to the whereabouts, and, +rising softly, discharged such a blow downwards as would have split a +yule log. A volley of sparks flew up from the hapless Spaniard's armor, +and a grunt issued from within it, which proved that, whether he was +killed or not, the blow had not improved his respiration. + +Amyas felt for his head, seized it, dragged him in over the gun, sprang +into the embrasure on his knees, felt for the top of the ladder, found +it, hove it clean off and out, with four or five men on it, and then of +course tumbled after it ten feet into the sand, roaring like a town bull +to her majesty's liege subjects in general. + +Sailor-fashion, he had no armor on but a light morion and a cuirass, +so he was not too much encumbered to prevent his springing to his legs +instantly, and setting to work, cutting and foining right and left at +every sound, for sight there was none. + +Battles (as soldiers know, and newspaper editors do not) are usually +fought, not as they ought to be fought, but as they can be fought; and +while the literary man is laying down the law at his desk as to how many +troops should be moved here, and what rivers should be crossed there, +and where the cavalry should have been brought up, and when the flank +should have been turned, the wretched man who has to do the work finds +the matter settled for him by pestilence, want of shoes, empty stomachs, +bad roads, heavy rains, hot suns, and a thousand other stern warriors +who never show on paper. + +So with this skirmish; “according to Cocker,” it ought to have been +a very pretty one; for Hercules of Pisa, who planned the sortie, had +arranged it all (being a very sans-appel in all military science) upon +the best Italian precedents, and had brought against this very hapless +battery a column of a hundred to attack directly in front, a company of +fifty to turn the right flank, and a company of fifty to turn the left +flank, with regulations, orders, passwords, countersigns, and what not; +so that if every man had had his rights (as seldom happens), Don Guzman +Maria Magdalena de Soto, who commanded the sortie, ought to have taken +the work out of hand, and annihilated all therein. But alas! here stern +fate interfered. They had chosen a dark night, as was politic; they had +waited till the moon was up, lest it should be too dark, as was politic +likewise: but, just as they had started, on came a heavy squall of rain, +through which seven moons would have given no light, and which washed +out the plans of Hercules of Pisa as if they had been written on a +schoolboy's slate. The company who were to turn the left flank walked +manfully down into the sea, and never found out where they were going +till they were knee-deep in water. The company who were to turn the +right flank, bewildered by the utter darkness, turned their own flank +so often, that tired of falling into rabbit-burrows and filling their +mouths with sand, they halted and prayed to all the saints for a compass +and lantern; while the centre body, who held straight on by a trackway +to within fifty yards of the battery, so miscalculated that short +distance, that while they thought the ditch two pikes' length off, they +fell into it one over the other, and of six scaling ladders, the only +one which could be found was the very one which Amyas threw down again. +After which the clouds broke, the wind shifted, and the moon shone out +merrily. And so was the deep policy of Hercules of Pisa, on which hung +the fate of Ireland and the Papacy, decided by a ten minutes' squall. + +But where is Amyas? + +In the ditch, aware that the enemy is tumbling into it, but unable to +find them; while the company above, finding it much too dark to attempt +a counter sortie, have opened a smart fire of musketry and arrows on +things in general, whereat the Spaniards are swearing like Spaniards (I +need say no more), and the Italians spitting like venomous cats; while +Amyas, not wishing to be riddled by friendly balls, has got his back +against the foot of the rampart, and waits on Providence. + +Suddenly the moon clears; and with one more fierce volley, the English +sailors, seeing the confusion, leap down from the embrasures, and to it +pell-mell. Whether this also was “according to Cocker,” I know not: but +the sailor, then as now, is not susceptible of highly-finished drill. + +Amyas is now in his element, and so are the brave fellows at his heels; +and there are ten breathless, furious minutes among the sand-hills; and +then the trumpets blow a recall, and the sailors drop back again by twos +and threes, and are helped up into the embrasures over many a dead and +dying foe; while the guns of Fort del Oro open on them, and blaze away +for half an hour without reply; and then all is still once more. And in +the meanwhile, the sortie against the deputy's camp has fared no better, +and the victory of the night remains with the English. + +Twenty minutes after, Winter and the captains who were on shore were +drying themselves round a peat-fire on the beach, and talking over the +skirmish, when Will Cary asked-- + +“Where is Leigh? who has seen him? I am sadly afraid he has gone too +far, and been slain.” + +“Slain? Never less, gentlemen!” replied the voice of the very person in +question, as he stalked out of the darkness into the glare of the fire, +and shot down from his shoulders into the midst of the ring, as he might +a sack of corn, a huge dark body, which was gradually seen to be a man +in rich armor; who being so shot down, lay quietly where he was dropped, +with his feet (luckily for him mailed) in the fire. + +“I say,” quoth Amyas, “some of you had better take him up, if he is to +be of any use. Unlace his helm, Will Cary.” + +“Pull his feet out of the embers; I dare say he would have been glad +enough to put us to the scarpines; but that's no reason we should put +him to them.” + +As has been hinted, there was no love lost between Admiral Winter +and Amyas; and Amyas might certainly have reported himself in a more +ceremonious manner. So Winter, whom Amyas either had not seen, or had +not chosen to see, asked him pretty sharply, “What the plague he had to +do with bringing dead men into camp?” + +“If he's dead, it's not my fault. He was alive enough when I started +with him, and I kept him right end uppermost all the way; and what would +you have more, sir?” + +“Mr. Leigh!” said Winter, “it behoves you to speak with somewhat +more courtesy, if not respect, to captains who are your elders and +commanders.” + +“Ask your pardon, sir,” said the giant, as he stood in front of the fire +with the rain steaming and smoking off his armor; “but I was bred in +a school where getting good service done was more esteemed than making +fine speeches.” + +“Whatsoever school you were trained in, sir,” said Winter, nettled at +the hint about Drake; “it does not seem to have been one in which you +learned to obey orders. Why did you not come in when the recall was +sounded?” + +“Because,” said Amyas, very coolly, “in the first place I did not hear +it; and in the next, in my school I was taught when I had once started +not to come home empty-handed.” + +This was too pointed; and Winter sprang up with an oath--“Do you mean to +insult me, sir?” + +“I am sorry, sir, that you should take a compliment to Sir Francis Drake +as an insult to yourself. I brought in this gentleman because I thought +he might give you good information; if he dies meanwhile, the loss will +be yours, or rather the queen's.” + +“Help me, then,” said Cary, glad to create a diversion in Amyas's favor, +“and we will bring him round;” while Raleigh rose, and catching Winter's +arm, drew him aside, and began talking earnestly. + +“What a murrain have you, Leigh, to quarrel with Winter?” asked two or +three. + +“I say, my reverend fathers and dear children, do get the Don's talking +tackle free again, and leave me and the admiral to settle it our own +way.” + +There was more than one captain sitting in the ring, but discipline, and +the degrees of rank, were not so severely defined as now; and Amyas, as +a “gentleman adventurer,” was, on land, in a position very difficult +to be settled, though at sea he was as liable to be hanged as any other +person on board; and on the whole it was found expedient to patch the +matter up. So Captain Raleigh returning, said that though Admiral Winter +had doubtless taken umbrage at certain words of Mr. Leigh's, yet that +he had no doubt that Mr. Leigh meant nothing thereby but what was +consistent with the profession of a soldier and a gentleman, and worthy +both of himself and of the admiral. + +From which proposition Amyas found it impossible to dissent; whereon +Raleigh went back, and informed Winter that Leigh had freely retracted +his words, and fully wiped off any imputation which Mr. Winter might +conceive to have been put upon him, and so forth. So Winter returned, +and Amyas said frankly enough-- + +“Admiral Winter, I hope, as a loyal soldier, that you will understand +thus far; that naught which has passed to-night shall in any way prevent +you finding me a forward and obedient servant to all your commands, be +they what they may, and a supporter of your authority among the men, +and honor against the foe, even with my life. For I should be ashamed if +private differences should ever prejudice by a grain the public weal.” + +This was a great effort of oratory for Amyas; and he therefore, in order +to be safe by following precedent, tried to talk as much as he could +like Sir Richard Grenville. Of course Winter could answer nothing to it, +in spite of the plain hint of private differences, but that he should +not fail to show himself a captain worthy of so valiant and trusty +a gentleman; whereon the whole party turned their attention to the +captive, who, thanks to Will Cary, was by this time sitting up, standing +much in need of a handkerchief, and looking about him, having been +unhelmed, in a confused and doleful manner. + +“Take the gentleman to my tent,” said Winter, “and let the surgeon see +to him. Mr. Leigh, who is he?--” + +“An enemy, but whether Spaniard or Italian I know not; but he seemed +somebody among them, I thought the captain of a company. He and I cut at +each other twice or thrice at first, and then lost each other; and after +that I came on him among the sand-hills, trying to rally his men, and +swearing like the mouth of the pit, whereby I guess him a Spaniard. But +his men ran; so I brought him in.” + +“And how?” asked Raleigh. “Thou art giving us all the play but the +murders and the marriages.” + +“Why, I bid him yield, and he would not. Then I bid him run, and he +would not. And it was too pitch-dark for fighting; so I took him by the +ears, and shook the wind out of him, and so brought him in.” + +“Shook the wind out of him?” cried Cary, amid the roar of laughter which +followed. “Dost know thou hast nearly wrung his neck in two? His vizor +was full of blood.” + +“He should have run or yielded, then,” said Amyas; and getting up, +slipped off to find some ale, and then to sleep comfortably in a dry +burrow which he scratched out of a sandbank. + +The next morning, as Amyas was discussing a scanty breakfast of biscuit +(for provisions were running very short in camp), Raleigh came up to +him. + +“What, eating? That's more than I have done to-day.” + +“Sit down, and share, then.” + +“Nay, lad, I did not come a-begging. I have set some of my rogues to dig +rabbits; but as I live, young Colbrand, you may thank your stars that +you are alive to-day to eat. Poor young Cheek--Sir John Cheek, the +grammarian's son--got his quittance last night by a Spanish pike, +rushing headlong on, just as you did. But have you seen your prisoner?” + +“No; nor shall, while he is in Winter's tent.” + +“Why not, then? What quarrel have you against the admiral, friend +Bobadil? Cannot you let Francis Drake fight his own battles, without +thrusting your head in between them?” + +“Well, that is good! As if the quarrel was not just as much mine, and +every man's in the ship. Why, when he left Drake, he left us all, did he +not?” + +“And what if he did? Let bygones be bygones is the rule of a Christian, +and of a wise man too, Amyas. Here the man is, at least, safe home, +in favor and in power; and a prudent youth will just hold his tongue, +mumchance, and swim with the stream.” + +“But that's just what makes me mad; to see this fellow, after deserting +us there in unknown seas, win credit and rank at home here for being the +first man who ever sailed back through the Straits. What had he to do +with sailing back at all! As well make the fox a knight for being the +first that ever jumped down a jakes to escape the hounds. The fiercer +the flight the fouler the fear, say I.” + +“Amyas! Amyas! thou art a hard hitter, but a soft politician.” + +“I am no politician, Captain Raleigh, nor ever wish to be. An honest +man's my friend, and a rogue's my foe; and I'll tell both as much, as +long as I breathe.” + +“And die a poor saint,” said Raleigh, laughing. “But if Winter invites +you to his tent himself, you won't refuse to come?” + +“Why, no, considering his years and rank; but he knows too well to do +that.” + +“He knows too well not to do it,” said Raleigh, laughing as he walked +away. And verily in half-an-hour came an invitation, extracted of +course, from the admiral by Raleigh's silver tongue, which Amyas could +not but obey. + +“We all owe you thanks for last night's service, sir,” said Winter, who +had for some good reasons changed his tone. “Your prisoner is found to +be a gentleman of birth and experience, and the leader of the assault +last night. He has already told us more than we had hoped, for which +also we are beholden to you; and, indeed, my Lord Grey has been asking +for you already.” + +“I have, young sir,” said a quiet and lofty voice; and Amyas saw limping +from the inner tent the proud and stately figure of the stern deputy, +Lord Grey of Wilton, a brave and wise man, but with a naturally harsh +temper, which had been soured still more by the wound which had crippled +him, while yet a boy, at the battle of Leith. He owed that limp to Mary +Queen of Scots; and he did not forget the debt. + +“I have been asking for you; having heard from many, both of your last +night's prowess, and of your conduct and courage beyond the promise of +your years, displayed in that ever-memorable voyage, which may well be +ranked with the deeds of the ancient Argonauts.” + +Amyas bowed low; and the lord deputy went on, “You will needs wish +to see your prisoner. You will find him such a one as you need not be +ashamed to have taken, and as need not be ashamed to have been taken by +you: but here he is, and will, I doubt not, answer as much for himself. +Know each other better, gentlemen both: last night was an ill one for +making acquaintances. Don Guzman Maria Magdalena Sotomayor de Soto, know +the hidalgo, Amyas Leigh!” + +As he spoke, the Spaniard came forward, still in his armor, all save his +head, which was bound up in a handkerchief. + +He was an exceedingly tall and graceful personage, of that sangre azul +which marked high Visigothic descent; golden-haired and fair-skinned, +with hands as small and white as a woman's; his lips were delicate but +thin, and compressed closely at the corners of the mouth; and his pale +blue eye had a glassy dulness. In spite of his beauty and his carriage, +Amyas shrank from him instinctively; and yet he could not help +holding out his hand in return, as the Spaniard, holding out his, said +languidly, in most sweet and sonorous Spanish-- + +“I kiss his hands and feet. The senor speaks, I am told, my native +tongue?” + +“I have that honor.” + +“Then accept in it (for I can better express myself therein than in +English, though I am not altogether ignorant of that witty and learned +language) the expression of my pleasure at having fallen into the +hands of one so renowned in war and travel; and of one also,” he added, +glancing at Amyas's giant bulk, “the vastness of whose strength, beyond +that of common mortality, makes it no more shame for me to have been +overpowered and carried away by him than if my captor had been a paladin +of Charlemagne's.” + +Honest Amyas bowed and stammered, a little thrown off his balance by the +unexpected assurance and cool flattery of his prisoner; but he said-- + +“If you are satisfied, illustrious senor, I am bound to be so. I +only trust that in my hurry and the darkness I have not hurt you +unnecessarily.” + +The Don laughed a pretty little hollow laugh: “No, kind senor, my head, +I trust, will after a few days have become united to my shoulders; +and, for the present, your company will make me forget any slight +discomfort.” + +“Pardon me, senor; but by this daylight I should have seen that armor +before.” + +“I doubt it not, senor, as having been yourself also in the forefront of +the battle,” said the Spaniard, with a proud smile. + +“If I am right, senor, you are he who yesterday held up the standard +after it was shot down.” + +“I do not deny that undeserved honor; and I have to thank the courtesy +of you and your countrymen for having permitted me to do so with +impunity.” + +“Ah, I heard of that brave feat,” said the lord deputy. “You should +consider yourself, Mr. Leigh, honored by being enabled to show courtesy +to such a warrior.” + +How long this interchange of solemn compliments, of which Amyas was +getting somewhat weary, would have gone on, I know not; but at that +moment Raleigh entered hastily-- + +“My lord, they have hung out a white flag, and are calling for a +parley!” + +The Spaniard turned pale, and felt for his sword, which was gone; and +then, with a bitter laugh, murmured to himself--“As I expected.” + +“I am very sorry to hear it. Would to Heaven they had simply fought it +out!” said Lord Grey, half to himself; and then, “Go, Captain Raleigh, +and answer them that (saving this gentleman's presence) the laws of +war forbid a parley with any who are leagued with rebels against their +lawful sovereign.” + +“But what if they wish to treat for this gentleman's ransom?” + +“For their own, more likely,” said the Spaniard; “but tell them, on my +part, senor, that Don Guzman refuses to be ransomed; and will return to +no camp where the commanding officer, unable to infect his captains with +his own cowardice, dishonors them against their will.” + +“You speak sharply, senor,” said Winter, after Raleigh had gone out. + +“I have reason, Senor Admiral, as you will find, I fear, erelong.” + +“We shall have the honor of leaving you here, for the present, sir, as +Admiral Winter's guest,” said the lord deputy. + +“But not my sword, it seems.” + +“Pardon me, senor; but no one has deprived you of your sword,” said +Winter. + +“I don't wish to pain you, sir,” said Amyas, “but I fear that we were +both careless enough to leave it behind last night.” + +A flash passed over the Spaniard's face, which disclosed terrible depths +of fury and hatred beneath that quiet mask, as the summer lightning +displays the black abysses of the thunder-storm; but like the summer +lightning it passed almost unseen; and blandly as ever, he answered: + +“I can forgive you for such a neglect, most valiant sir, more easily +than I can forgive myself. Farewell, sir! One who has lost his sword is +no fit company for you.” And as Amyas and the rest departed, he plunged +into the inner tent, stamping and writhing, gnawing his hands with rage +and shame. + +As Amyas came out on the battery, Yeo hailed him: + +“Master Amyas! Hillo, sir! For the love of Heaven, tell me!” + +“What, then?” + +“Is his lordship stanch? Will he do the Lord's work faithfully, root and +branch: or will he spare the Amalekites?” + +“The latter, I think, old hip-and-thigh,” said Amyas, hurrying forward +to hear the news from Raleigh, who appeared in sight once more. + +“They ask to depart with bag and baggage,” said he, when he came up. + +“God do so to me, and more also, if they carry away a straw!” said Lord +Grey. “Make short work of it, sir!” + +“I do not know how that will be, my lord; as I came up a captain shouted +to me off the walls that there were mutineers; and, denying that he +surrendered, would have pulled down the flag of truce, but the soldiers +beat him off.” + +“A house divided against itself will not stand long, gentlemen. Tell +them that I give no conditions. Let them lay down their arms, and trust +in the Bishop of Rome who sent them hither, and may come to save them +if he wants them. Gunners, if you see the white flag go down, open your +fire instantly. Captain Raleigh, we need your counsel here. Mr. Cary, +will you be my herald this time?” + +“A better Protestant never went on a pleasanter errand, my lord.” + +So Cary went, and then ensued an argument, as to what should be done +with the prisoners in case of a surrender. + +I cannot tell whether my Lord Grey meant, by offering conditions which +the Spaniards would not accept, to force them into fighting the quarrel +out, and so save himself the responsibility of deciding on their +fate; or whether his mere natural stubbornness, as well as his just +indignation, drove him on too far to retract: but the council of war +which followed was both a sad and a stormy one, and one which he had +reason to regret to his dying day. What was to be done with the enemy? +They already outnumbered the English; and some fifteen hundred of +Desmond's wild Irish hovered in the forests round, ready to side with +the winning party, or even to attack the English at the least sign of +vacillation or fear. They could not carry the Spaniards away with them, +for they had neither shipping nor food, not even handcuffs enough for +them; and as Mackworth told Winter when he proposed it, the only plan +was for him to make San Josepho a present of his ships, and swim home +himself as he could. To turn loose in Ireland, as Captain Touch urged, +on the other hand, seven hundred such monsters of lawlessness, cruelty, +and lust, as Spanish and Italian condottieri were in those days, was +as fatal to their own safety as cruel to the wretched Irish. All the +captains, without exception, followed on the same side. “What was to be +done, then?” asked Lord Grey, impatiently. “Would they have him murder +them all in cold blood?” + +And for a while every man, knowing that it must come to that, and yet +not daring to say it; till Sir Warham St. Leger, the marshal of Munster, +spoke out stoutly: “Foreigners had been scoffing them too long and too +truly with waging these Irish wars as if they meant to keep them alive, +rather than end them. Mercy and faith to every Irishman who would show +mercy and faith, was his motto; but to invaders, no mercy. Ireland was +England's vulnerable point; it might be some day her ruin; a terrible +example must be made of those who dare to touch the sore. Rather pardon +the Spaniards for landing in the Thames than in Ireland!”--till Lord +Grey became much excited, and turning as a last hope to Raleigh, asked +his opinion: but Raleigh's silver tongue was that day not on the side +of indulgence. He skilfully recapitulated the arguments of his +fellow-captains, improving them as he went on, till each worthy soldier +was surprised to find himself so much wiser a man than he had thought; +and finished by one of his rapid and passionate perorations upon his +favorite theme--the West Indian cruelties of the Spaniards, “. . . +by which great tracts and fair countries are now utterly stripped of +inhabitants by heavy bondage and torments unspeakable. Oh, witless +Islanders!” said he, apostrophizing the Irish, “would to Heaven that you +were here to listen to me! What other fate awaits you, if this viper, +which you are so ready to take into your bosom, should be warmed to +life, but to groan like the Indians, slaves to the Spaniard; but to +perish like the Indians, by heavy burdens, cruel chains, plunder and +ravishment; scourged, racked, roasted, stabbed, sawn in sunder, cast to +feed the dogs, as simple and more righteous peoples have perished ere +now by millions? And what else, I say, had been the fate of Ireland +had this invasion prospered, which God has now, by our weak hands, +confounded and brought to naught? Shall we then answer it, my lord, +either to our conscience, our God, or our queen, if we shall set loose +men (not one of whom, I warrant, but is stained with murder on murder) +to go and fill up the cup of their iniquity among these silly sheep? +Have not their native wolves, their barbarous chieftains, shorn, peeled, +and slaughtered them enough already, but we must add this pack of +foreign wolves to the number of their tormentors, and fit the Desmond +with a body-guard of seven, yea, seven hundred devils worse than +himself? Nay, rather let us do violence to our own human nature, and +show ourselves in appearance rigorous, that we may be kind indeed; lest +while we presume to be over-merciful to the guilty, we prove ourselves +to be over-cruel to the innocent.” + +“Captain Raleigh, Captain Raleigh,” said Lord Grey, “the blood of these +men be on your head!” + +“It ill befits your lordship,” answered Raleigh, “to throw on your +subordinates the blame of that which your reason approves as necessary.” + +“I should have thought, sir, that one so noted for ambition as Captain +Raleigh would have been more careful of the favor of that queen for +whose smiles he is said to be so longing a competitor. If you have not +yet been of her counsels, sir, I can tell you you are not likely to be. +She will be furious when she hears of this cruelty.” + +Lord Grey had lost his temper: but Raleigh kept his, and answered +quietly-- + +“Her majesty shall at least not find me among the number of those who +prefer her favor to her safety, and abuse to their own profit that +over-tenderness and mercifulness of heart which is the only blemish +(and yet, rather like a mole on a fair cheek, but a new beauty) in her +manifold perfections.” + +At this juncture Cary returned. + +“My lord,” said he, in some confusion, “I have proposed your terms; but +the captains still entreat for some mitigation; and, to tell you truth, +one of them has insisted on accompanying me hither to plead his cause +himself.” + +“I will not see him, sir. Who is he?” + +“His name is Sebastian of Modena, my lord.” + +“Sebastian of Modena? What think you, gentlemen? May we make an +exception in favor of so famous a soldier?” + +“So villainous a cut-throat,” said Zouch to Raleigh, under his breath. + +All, however, were for speaking with so famous a man; and in came, in +full armor, a short, bull-necked Italian, evidently of immense strength, +of the true Caesar Borgia stamp. + +“Will you please to be seated, sir?” said Lord Grey, coldly. + +“I kiss your hands, most illustrious: but I do not sit in an enemy's +camp. Ha, my friend Zouch! How has your signoria fared since we fought +side by side at Lepanto? So you too are here, sitting in council on the +hanging of me.” + +“What is your errand, sir? Time is short,” said the lord deputy. + +“Corpo di Bacco! It has been long enough all the morning, for my +rascals have kept me and my friend the Colonel Hercules (whom you know, +doubtless) prisoners in our tents at the pike's point. My lord deputy, +I have but a few words. I shall thank you to take every soldier in the +fort--Italian, Spaniard, and Irish--and hang them up as high as Haman, +for a set of mutinous cowards, with the arch-traitor San Josepho at +their head.” + +“I am obliged to you for your offer, sir, and shall deliberate presently +as to whether I shall not accept it.” + +“But as for us captains, really your excellency must consider that we +are gentlemen born, and give us either buena querra, as the Spaniards +say, or a fair chance for life; and so to my business.” + +“Stay, sir. Answer this first. Have you or yours any commission to show +either from the King of Spain or any other potentate?” + +“Never a one but the cause of Heaven and our own swords. And with them, +my lord, we are ready to meet any gentlemen of your camp, man to man, +with our swords only, half-way between your leaguer and ours; and I +doubt not that your lordship will see fair play. Will any gentleman +accept so civil an offer? There sits a tall youth in that corner +who would suit me very well. Will any fit my gallant comrades with +half-an-hour's punto and stoccado?” + +There was a silence, all looking at the lord deputy, whose eyes were +kindling in a very ugly way. + +“No answer? Then I must proceed to exhortation. So! Will that be +sufficient?” + +And walking composedly across the tent, the fearless ruffian quietly +stooped down, and smote Amyas Leigh full in the face. + +Up sprang Amyas, heedless of all the august assembly, and with a single +buffet felled him to the earth. + +“Excellent!” said he, rising unabashed. “I can always trust my instinct. +I knew the moment I saw him that he was a cavalier worth letting blood. +Now, sir, your sword and harness, and I am at your service outside!” + +The solemn and sententious Englishmen were altogether taken aback by the +Italian's impudence; but Zouch settled the matter. + +“Most noble captain, will you be pleased to recollect a certain little +occurrence at Messina, in the year 1575? For if you do not, I do; and +beg to inform this gentleman that you are unworthy of his sword, and +had you, unluckily for you, been an Englishman, would have found the +fashions of our country so different from your own that you would have +been then hanged, sir, and probably may be so still.” + +The Italian's sword flashed out in a moment: but Lord Grey interfered. + +“No fighting here, gentlemen. That may wait; and, what is more, shall +wait till--Strike their swords down, Raleigh, Mackworth! Strike their +swords down! Colonel Sebastian, you will be pleased to return as you +came, in safety, having lost nothing, as (I frankly tell you) you +have gained nothing, by your wild bearing here. We shall proceed to +deliberate on your fate.” + +“I trust, my lord,” said Amyas, “that you will spare this braggart's +life, at least for a day or two. For in spite of Captain Zouch's +warning, I must have to do with him yet, or my cheek will rise up in +judgment against me at the last day.” + +“Well spoken, lad,” said the colonel, as he swung out. “So! worth a +reprieve, by this sword, to have one more rapier-rattle before the +gallows! Then I take back no further answer, my lord deputy? Not even +our swords, our virgin blades, signor, the soldier's cherished bride? +Shall we go forth weeping widowers, and leave to strange embrace the +lovely steel?” + +“None, sir, by heaven!” said he, waxing wroth. “Do you come hither, +pirates as you are, to dictate terms upon a foreign soil? Is it not +enough to have set up here the Spanish flag, and claimed the land +of Ireland as the Pope's gift to the Spaniard; violated the laws of +nations, and the solemn treaties of princes, under color of a mad +superstition?” + +“Superstition, my lord? Nothing less. Believe a philosopher who has not +said a pater or an ave for seven years past at least. Quod tango +credo, is my motto; and though I am bound to say, under pain of the +Inquisition, that the most holy Father the Pope has given this land of +Ireland to his most Catholic Majesty the King of Spain, Queen Elizabeth +having forfeited her title to it by heresy,--why, my lord, I believe it +as little as you do. I believe that Ireland would have been mine, if I +had won it; I believe religiously that it is not mine, now I have lost +it. What is, is, and a fig for priests; to-day to thee, to-morrow to me. +Addio!” And out he swung. + +“There goes a most gallant rascal,” said the lord deputy. + +“And a most rascally gallant,” said Zouch. “The murder of his own page, +of which I gave him a remembrancer, is among the least of his sins.” + +“And now, Captain Raleigh,” said Lord Grey, “as you have been so earnest +in preaching this butchery, I have a right to ask none but you to +practise it.” + +Raleigh bit his lip, and replied by the “quip courteous--” + +“I am at least a man, my lord, who thinks it shame to allow others to do +that which I dare not do myself.” + +Lord Grey might probably have returned “the countercheck quarrelsome,” + had not Mackworth risen-- + +“And I, my lord, being in that matter at least one of Captain Raleigh's +kidney, will just go with him to see that he takes no harm by being bold +enough to carry out an ugly business, and serving these rascals as their +countrymen served Mr. Oxenham.” + +“I bid you good morning, then, gentlemen, though I cannot bid you God +speed,” said Lord Grey; and sitting down again, covered his face with +his hands, and, to the astonishment of all bystanders, burst, say the +chroniclers, into tears. + +Amyas followed Raleigh out. The latter was pale, but determined, and +very wroth against the deputy. + +“Does the man take me for a hangman,” said he, “that he speaks to me +thus? But such is the way of the great. If you neglect your duty, +they haul you over the coals; if you do it, you must do it on your +own responsibility. Farewell, Amyas; you will not shrink from me as a +butcher when I return?” + +“God forbid! But how will you do it?” + +“March one company in, and drive them forth, and let the other cut them +down as they come out.--Pah!” + + * * * * * + +It was done. Right or wrong, it was done. The shrieks and curses had +died away, and the Fort del Oro was a red shambles, which the soldiers +were trying to cover from the sight of heaven and earth, by dragging the +bodies into the ditch, and covering them with the ruins of the rampart; +while the Irish, who had beheld from the woods that awful warning, fled +trembling into the deepest recesses of the forest. It was done; and +it never needed to be done again. The hint was severe, but it was +sufficient. Many years passed before a Spaniard set foot again in +Ireland. + +The Spanish and Italian officers were spared, and Amyas had Don Guzman +Maria Magdalena Sotomayor de Soto duly adjudged to him, as his prize +by right of war. He was, of course, ready enough to fight Sebastian +of Modena: but Lord Grey forbade the duel: blood enough had been shed +already. The next question was, where to bestow Don Guzman till his +ransom should arrive; and as Amyas could not well deliver the gallant +Don into the safe custody of Mrs. Leigh at Burrough, and still less into +that of Frank at Court, he was fain to write to Sir Richard Grenville, +and ask his advice, and in the meanwhile keep the Spaniard with him upon +parole, which he frankly gave,--saying that as for running away, he had +nowhere to run to; and as for joining the Irish he had no mind to turn +pig; and Amyas found him, as shall be hereafter told, pleasant company +enough. But one morning Raleigh entered-- + +“I have done you a good turn, Leigh, if you think it one. I have talked +St. Leger into making you my lieutenant, and giving you the custody of +a right pleasant hermitage--some castle Shackatory or other in the midst +of a big bog, where time will run swift and smooth with you, between +hunting wild Irish, snaring snipes, and drinking yourself drunk with +usquebaugh over a turf fire.” + +“I'll go,” quoth Amyas; “anything for work.” So he went and took +possession of his lieutenancy and his black robber tower, and there +passed the rest of the winter, fighting or hunting all day, and chatting +and reading all the evening, with Senor Don Guzman, who, like a good +soldier of fortune, made himself thoroughly at home, and a general +favorite with the soldiers. + +At first, indeed, his Spanish pride and stateliness, and Amyas's English +taciturnity, kept the two apart somewhat; but they soon began, if not +to trust, at least to like each other; and Don Guzman told Amyas, bit by +bit, who he was, of what an ancient house, and of what a poor one; and +laughed over the very small chance of his ransom being raised, and +the certainty that, at least, it could not come for a couple of years, +seeing that the only De Soto who had a penny to spare was a fat old dean +at St. Yago de Leon, in the Caracas, at which place Don Guzman had been +born. This of course led to much talk about the West Indies, and the +Don was as much interested to find that Amyas had been one of Drake's +world-famous crew, as Amyas was to find that his captive was the +grandson of none other than that most terrible of man-hunters, Don +Ferdinando de Soto, the conqueror of Florida, of whom Amyas had read +many a time in Las Casas, “as the captain of tyrants, the notoriousest +and most experimented amongst them that have done the most hurts, +mischiefs, and destructions in many realms.” And often enough his blood +boiled, and he had much ado to recollect that the speaker was his guest, +as Don Guzman chatted away about his grandfather's hunts of innocent +women and children, murders of caciques and burnings alive of guides, +“pour encourager les autres,” without, seemingly, the least feeling that +the victims were human beings or subjects for human pity; anything, in +short, but heathen dogs, enemies of God, servants of the devil, to be +used by the Christian when he needed, and when not needed killed down +as cumberers of the ground. But Don Guzman was a most finished gentleman +nevertheless; and told many a good story of the Indies, and told it +well; and over and above his stories, he had among his baggage two +books,--the one Antonio Galvano's “Discoveries of the World,” a mine +of winter evening amusement to Amyas; and the other, a manuscript book, +which, perhaps, it had been well for Amyas had he never seen. For it was +none other than a sort of rough journal which Don Guzman had kept as a +lad, when he went down with the Adelantado Gonzales Ximenes de Casada, +from Peru to the River of Amazons, to look for the golden country of El +Dorado, and the city of Manoa, which stands in the midst of the White +Lake, and equals or surpasses in glory even the palace of the Inca +Huaynacapac; “all the vessels of whose house and kitchen are of gold +and silver, and in his wardrobe statues of gold which seemed giants, and +figures in proportion and bigness of all the beasts, birds, trees, and +herbs of the earth, and the fishes of the water; and ropes, budgets, +chests, and troughs of gold: yea, and a garden of pleasure in an Island +near Puna, where they went to recreate themselves when they would take +the air of the sea, which had all kind of garden herbs, flowers, and +trees of gold and silver of an invention and magnificence till then +never seen.” + +Now the greater part of this treasure (and be it remembered that these +wonders were hardly exaggerated, and that there were many men alive then +who had beheld them, as they had worse things, “with their corporal and +mortal eyes”) was hidden by the Indians when Pizarro conquered Peru and +slew Atahuallpa, son of Huaynacapac; at whose death, it was said, one +of the Inca's younger brothers fled out of Peru, and taking with him +a great army, vanquished all that tract which lieth between the great +Rivers of Amazons and Baraquan, otherwise called Maranon and Orenoque. + +There he sits to this day, beside the golden lake, in the golden city, +which is in breadth a three days' journey, covered, he and his court, +with gold dust from head to foot, waiting for the fulfilment of the +ancient prophecy which was written in the temple of Caxamarca, where his +ancestors worshipped of old; that heroes shall come out of the West, and +lead him back across the forests to the kingdom of Peru, and restore him +to the glory of his forefathers. + +Golden phantom! so possible, so probable, to imaginations which were yet +reeling before the actual and veritable prodigies of Peru, Mexico, and +the East Indies. Golden phantom! which has cost already the lives +of thousands, and shall yet cost more; from Diego de Ordas, and Juan +Corteso, and many another, who went forth on the quest by the Andes, and +by the Orinoco, and by the Amazons; Antonio Sedenno, with his ghastly +caravan of manacled Indians, “on whose dead carcasses the tigers being +fleshed, assaulted the Spaniards;” Augustine Delgado, who “came to a +cacique, who entertained him with all kindness, and gave him beside much +gold and slaves, three nymphs very beautiful, which bare the names +of three provinces, Guanba, Gotoguane, and Maiarare. To requite which +manifold courtesies, he carried off, not only all the gold, but all the +Indians he could seize, and took them in irons to Cubagua, and sold them +for slaves; after which, Delgado was shot in the eye by an Indian, of +which hurt he died;” Pedro d'Orsua, who found the cinnamon forests of +Loxas, “whom his men murdered, and afterwards beheaded Lady Anes his +wife, who forsook not her lord in all his travels unto death,” and many +another, who has vanished with valiant comrades at his back into the +green gulfs of the primaeval forests, never to emerge again. Golden +phantom! man-devouring, whose maw is never satiate with souls of heroes; +fatal to Spain, more fatal still to England upon that shameful day, when +the last of Elizabeth's heroes shall lay down his head upon the block, +nominally for having believed what all around him believed likewise +till they found it expedient to deny it in order to curry favor with the +crowned cur who betrayed him, really because he alone dared to make one +last protest in behalf of liberty and Protestantism against the incoming +night of tyranny and superstition. Little thought Amyas, as he devoured +the pages of that manuscript, that he was laying a snare for the life of +the man whom, next to Drake and Grenville, he most admired on earth. + +But Don Guzman, on the other hand, seemed to have an instinct that that +book might be a fatal gift to his captor; for one day ere Amyas had +looked into it, he began questioning the Don about El Dorado. Whereon +Don Guzman replied with one of those smiles of his, which (as Amyas said +afterwards) was so abominably like a sneer, that he had often hard work +to keep his hands off the man-- + +“Ah! You have been eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge, senor? +Well; if you have any ambition to follow many another brave captain +to the pit, I know no shorter or easier path than is contained in that +little book.” + +“I have never opened your book,” said Amyas; “your private manuscripts +are no concern of mine: but my man who recovered your baggage read +part of it, knowing no better; and now you are at liberty to tell me as +little as you like.” + +The “man,” it should be said, was none other than Salvation Yeo, who +had attached himself by this time inseparably to Amyas, in quality of +body-guard: and, as was common enough in those days, had turned soldier +for the nonce, and taken under his patronage two or three rusty bases +(swivels) and falconets (four-pounders), which grinned harmlessly enough +from the tower top across the cheerful expanse of bog. + +Amyas once asked him, how he reconciled this Irish sojourn with his vow +to find his little maid? Yeo shook his head. + +“I can't tell, sir, but there's something that makes me always to think +of you when I think of her; and that's often enough, the Lord knows. +Whether it is that I ben't to find the dear without your help; or +whether it is your pleasant face puts me in mind of hers; or what, I +can't tell; but don't you part me from you, sir, for I'm like Ruth, +and where you lodge I lodge; and where you go I go; and where you +die--though I shall die many a year first--there I'll die, I hope and +trust; for I can't abear you out of my sight; and that's the truth +thereof.” + +So Yeo remained with Amyas, while Cary went elsewhere with Sir Warham +St. Leger, and the two friends met seldom for many months; so that +Amyas's only companion was Don Guzman, who, as he grew more familiar, +and more careless about what he said and did in his captor's presence, +often puzzled and scandalized him by his waywardness. Fits of deep +melancholy alternated with bursts of Spanish boastfulness, utterly +astonishing to the modest and sober-minded Englishman, who would often +have fancied him inspired by usquebaugh, had he not had ocular proof of +his extreme abstemiousness. + +“Miserable?” said he, one night in one of these fits. “And have I not +a right to be miserable? Why should I not curse the virgin and all the +saints, and die? I have not a friend, not a ducat on earth; not even a +sword--hell and the furies! It was my all: the only bequest I ever had +from my father, and I lived by it and earned by it. Two years ago I had +as pretty a sum of gold as cavalier could wish--and now!”-- + +“What is become of it, then? I cannot hear that our men plundered you of +any.” + +“Your men? No, senor! What fifty men dared not have done, one woman did! +a painted, patched, fucused, periwigged, bolstered, Charybdis, cannibal, +Megaera, Lamia! Why did I ever go near that cursed Naples, the common +sewer of Europe? whose women, I believe, would be swallowed up by +Vesuvius to-morrow, if it were not that Belphegor is afraid of their +making the pit itself too hot to hold him. Well, sir, she had all of +mine and more; and when all was gone in wine and dice, woodcocks' brains +and ortolans' tongues, I met the witch walking with another man. I had +a sword and a dagger; I gave him the first (though the dog fought well +enough, to give him his due), and her the second; left them lying across +each other, and fled for my life,--and here I am! after twenty years of +fighting, from the Levant to the Orellana--for I began ere I had a +hair on my chin--and this is the end!--No, it is not! I'll have that El +Dorado yet! the Adelantado made Berreo, when he gave him his daughter, +swear that he would hunt for it, through life and death.--We'll see +who finds it first, he or I. He's a bungler; Orsua was a bungler--Pooh! +Cortes and Pizarro? we'll see whether there are not as good Castilians +as they left still. I can do it, senor. I know a track, a plan; over the +Llanos is the road; and I'll be Emperor of Manoa yet--possess the jewels +of all the Incas; and gold, gold! Pizarro was a beggar to what I will +be!” + +Conceive, sir, he broke forth during another of these peacock fits, +as Amyas and he were riding along the hill-side; “conceive! with forty +chosen cavaliers (what need of more?) I present myself before the golden +king, trembling amid his myriad guards at the new miracle of the mailed +centaurs of the West; and without dismounting, I approach his throne, +lift the crucifix which hangs around my neck, and pressing it to my +lips, present it for the adoration of the idolater, and give him his +alternative; that which Gayferos and the Cid, my ancestors, offered +the Soldan and the Moor--baptism or death! He hesitates; perhaps +smiles scornfully upon my little band; I answer him by deeds, as Don +Ferdinando, my illustrious grandfather, answered Atahuallpa at Peru, in +sight of all his court and camp.” + +“With your lance-point, as Gayferos did the Soldan?” asked Amyas, +amused. + +“No, sir; persuasion first, for the salvation of a soul is at stake. Not +with the lance-point, but the spur, sir, thus!”-- + +And striking his heels into his horse's flanks, he darted off at full +speed. + +“The Spanish traitor!” shouted Yeo. “He's going to escape! Shall we +shoot, sir? Shall we shoot?” + +“For Heaven's sake, no!” said Amyas, looking somewhat blank, +nevertheless, for he much doubted whether the whole was not a ruse on +the part of the Spaniard, and he knew how impossible it was for his +fifteen stone of flesh to give chase to the Spaniard's twelve. But he +was soon reassured; the Spaniard wheeled round towards him, and began to +put the rough hackney through all the paces of the manege with a grace +and skill which won applause from the beholders. + +“Thus!” he shouted, waving his hand to Amyas, between his curvets and +caracoles, “did my illustrious grandfather exhibit to the Paynim emperor +the prowess of a Castilian cavalier! Thus!--and thus!--and thus, at +last, he dashed up to his very feet, as I to yours, and bespattering +that unbaptized visage with his Christian bridle foam, pulled up his +charger on his haunches, thus!” + +And (as was to be expected from a blown Irish garron on a peaty Irish +hill-side) down went the hapless hackney on his tail, away went his +heels a yard in front of him, and ere Don Guzman could “avoid his +selle,” horse and man rolled over into neighboring bog-hole. + +“After pride comes a fall,” quoth Yeo with unmoved visage, as he lugged +him out. + +“And what would you do with the emperor at last?” asked Amyas when the +Don had been scrubbed somewhat clean with a bunch of rushes. “Kill him, +as your grandfather did Atahuallpa?” + +“My grandfather,” answered the Spaniard, indignantly, “was one of those +who, to their eternal honor, protested to the last against that most +cruel and unknightly massacre. He could be terrible to the heathen; but +he kept his plighted word, sir, and taught me to keep mine, as you have +seen to-day.” + +“I have, senor,” said Amyas. “You might have given us the slip easily +enough just now, and did not. Pardon me, if I have offended you.” + +The Spaniard (who, after all, was cross principally with himself and the +“unlucky mare's son,” as the old romances have it, which had played him +so scurvy a trick) was all smiles again forthwith; and Amyas, as they +chatted on, could not help asking him next-- + +“I wonder why you are so frank about your own intentions to an enemy +like me, who will surely forestall you if he can.” + +“Sir, a Spaniard needs no concealment, and fears no rivalry. He is the +soldier of the Cross, and in it he conquers, like Constantine of old. +Not that you English are not very heroes; but you have not, sir, and +you cannot have, who have forsworn our Lady and the choir of saints, the +same divine protection, the same celestial mission, which enables the +Catholic cavalier single-handed to chase a thousand Paynims.” + +And Don Guzman crossed himself devoutly, and muttered half-a-dozen Ave +Marias in succession, while Amyas rode silently by his side, utterly +puzzled at this strange compound of shrewdness with fanaticism, of +perfect high-breeding with a boastfulness which in an Englishman would +have been the sure mark of vulgarity. + +At last came a letter from Sir Richard Grenville, complimenting Amyas +on his success and promotion, bearing a long and courtly message to Don +Guzman (whom Grenville had known when he was in the Mediterranean, at +the battle of Lepanto), and offering to receive him as his own guest +at Bideford, till his ransom should arrive; a proposition which the +Spaniard (who of course was getting sufficiently tired of the Irish +bogs) could not but gladly accept; and one of Winter's ships, returning +to England in the spring of 1581, delivered duly at the quay of Bideford +the body of Don Guzman Maria Magdalena. Raleigh, after forming for +that summer one of the triumvirate by which Munster was governed after +Ormond's departure, at last got his wish and departed for England and +the Court; and Amyas was left alone with the snipes and yellow mantles +for two more weary years. + + + +CHAPTER X + +HOW THE MAYOR OF BIDEFORD BAITED HIS HOOK WITH HIS OWN FLESH + + “And therewith he blent, and cried ha! + As though he had been stricken to the harte.” + + Palamon and Arcite. + +So it befell to Chaucer's knight in prison; and so it befell also to Don +Guzman; and it befell on this wise. + +He settled down quietly enough at Bideford on his parole, in better +quarters than he had occupied for many a day, and took things as they +came, like a true soldier of fortune; till, after he had been with +Grenville hardly a month, old Salterne the Mayor came to supper. + +Now Don Guzman, however much he might be puzzled at first at our strange +English ways of asking burghers and such low-bred folk to eat and drink +above the salt, in the company of noble persons, was quite gentleman +enough to know that Richard Grenville was gentleman enough to do only +what was correct, and according to the customs and proprieties. So after +shrugging the shoulders of his spirit, he submitted to eat and drink at +the same board with a tradesman who sat at a desk, and made up ledgers, +and took apprentices; and hearing him talk with Grenville neither +unwisely nor in a vulgar fashion, actually before the evening was out +condescended to exchange words with him himself. Whereon he found him +a very prudent and courteous person, quite aware of the Spaniard's +superior rank, and making him feel in every sentence that he was aware +thereof; and yet holding his own opinion, and asserting his own rights +as a wise elder in a fashion which the Spaniard had only seen before +among the merchant princes of Genoa and Venice. + +At the end of supper, Salterne asked Grenville to do his humble roof the +honor, etc. etc., of supping with him the next evening, and then turning +to the Don, said quite frankly, that he knew how great a condescension +it would be on the part of a nobleman of Spain to sit at the board of +a simple merchant: but that if the Spaniard deigned to do him such +a favor, he would find that the cheer was fit enough for any rank, +whatsoever the company might be; which invitation Don Guzman, being on +the whole glad enough of anything to amuse him, graciously condescended +to accept, and gained thereby an excellent supper, and, if he had chosen +to drink it, much good wine. + +Now Mr. Salterne was, of course, as a wise merchant, as ready as any man +for an adventure to foreign parts, as was afterwards proved by his great +exertions in the settlement of Virginia; and he was, therefore, equally +ready to rack the brains of any guest whom he suspected of knowing +anything concerning strange lands; and so he thought no shame, first to +try to loose his guest's tongue by much good sack, and next, to ask him +prudent and well-concocted questions concerning the Spanish Main, Peru, +the Moluccas, China, the Indies, and all parts. + +The first of which schemes failed; for the Spaniard was as abstemious +as any monk, and drank little but water; the second succeeded not over +well, for the Spaniard was as cunning as any fox, and answered little +but wind. + +In the midst of which tongue-fence in came the Rose of Torridge, looking +as beautiful as usual; and hearing what they were upon, added, artlessly +enough, her questions to her father's: to her Don Guzman could not but +answer; and without revealing any very important commercial secrets, +gave his host and his host's daughter a very amusing evening. + +Now little Eros, though spirits like Frank Leigh's may choose to call +him (as, perhaps, he really is to them) the eldest of the gods, and +the son of Jove and Venus, yet is reported by other equally good +authorities, as Burton has set forth in his “Anatomy of Melancholy,” to +be after all only the child of idleness and fulness of bread. To which +scandalous calumny the thoughts of Don Guzman's heart gave at least a +certain color; for he being idle (as captives needs must be), and also +full of bread (for Sir Richard kept a very good table), had already +looked round for mere amusement's sake after some one with whom to fall +in love. Lady Grenville, as nearest, was, I blush to say, thought of +first; but the Spaniard was a man of honor, and Sir Richard his host; so +he put away from his mind (with a self-denial on which he plumed himself +much) the pleasure of a chase equally exciting to his pride and his love +of danger. As for the sinfulness of the said chase, he of course thought +no more of that than other Southern Europeans did then, or than (I blush +again to have to say it) the English did afterwards in the days of the +Stuarts. Nevertheless, he had put Lady Grenville out of his mind; and so +left room to take Rose Salterne into it, not with any distinct purpose +of wronging her: but, as I said before, half to amuse himself, and half, +too, because he could not help it. For there was an innocent freshness +about the Rose of Torridge, fond as she was of being admired, which was +new to him and most attractive. “The train of the peacock,” as he +said to himself, “and yet the heart of the dove,” made so charming a +combination, that if he could have persuaded her to love no one but him, +perhaps he might become fool enough to love no one but her. And at that +thought he was seized with a very panic of prudence, and resolved to +keep out of her way; and yet the days ran slowly, and Lady Grenville +when at home was stupid enough to talk and think about nothing but her +husband; and when she went to Stow, and left the Don alone in one corner +of the great house at Bideford, what could he do but lounge down to the +butt-gardens to show off his fine black cloak and fine black feather, +see the shooting, have a game or two of rackets with the youngsters, a +game or two of bowls with the elders, and get himself invited home to +supper by Mr. Salterne? + +And there, of course, he had it all his own way, and ruled the roast +(which he was fond enough of doing) right royally, not only on account +of his rank, but because he had something to say worth hearing, as a +travelled man. For those times were the day-dawn of English commerce; +and not a merchant in Bideford, or in all England, but had his +imagination all on fire with projects of discoveries, companies, +privileges, patents, and settlements; with gallant rivalry of the brave +adventures of Sir Edward Osborne and his new London Company of Turkey +Merchants; with the privileges just granted by the Sultan Murad Khan +to the English; with the worthy Levant voyages of Roger Bodenham in +the great bark Aucher, and of John Fox, and Lawrence Aldersey, and John +Rule; and with hopes from the vast door for Mediterranean trade, which +the crushing of the Venetian power at Famagusta in Cyprus, and the +alliance made between Elizabeth and the Grand Turk, had just thrown +open. So not a word could fall from the Spaniard about the Mediterranean +but took root at once in right fertile soil. Besides, Master Edmund +Hogan had been on a successful embassy to the Emperor of Morocco; John +Hawkins and George Fenner had been to Guinea (and with the latter Mr. +Walter Wren, a Bideford man), and had traded there for musk and civet, +gold and grain; and African news was becoming almost as valuable as West +Indian. Moreover, but two months before had gone from London Captain +Hare in the bark Minion, for Brazil, and a company of adventurers with +him, with Sheffield hardware, and “Devonshire and Northern kersies,” + hollands and “Manchester cottons,” for there was a great opening for +English goods by the help of one John Whithall, who had married a +Spanish heiress, and had an ingenio and slaves in Santos. (Don't smile, +reader, or despise the day of small things, and those who sowed the seed +whereof you reap the mighty harvest.) In the meanwhile, Drake had proved +not merely the possibility of plundering the American coasts, but +of establishing an East Indian trade; Frobisher and Davis, worthy +forefathers of our Parrys and Franklins, had begun to bore their way +upward through the Northern ice, in search of a passage to China which +should avoid the dangers of the Spanish seas; and Anthony Jenkinson, not +the least of English travellers, had, in six-and-twenty years of travel +in behalf of the Muscovite Company, penetrated into not merely Russia +and the Levant, but Persia and Armenia, Bokhara, Tartary, Siberia, and +those waste Arctic shores where, thirty years before, the brave Sir Hugh +Willoughby, + + “In Arzina caught, + Perished with all his crew.” + +Everywhere English commerce, under the genial sunshine of Elizabeth's +wise rule, was spreading and taking root; and as Don Guzman talked +with his new friends, he soon saw (for he was shrewd enough) that they +belonged to a race which must be exterminated if Spain intended to +become (as she did intend) the mistress of the world; and that it was +not enough for Spain to have seized in the Pope's name the whole new +world, and claimed the exclusive right to sail the seas of America; not +enough to have crushed the Hollanders; not enough to have degraded the +Venetians into her bankers, and the Genoese into her mercenaries; not +enough to have incorporated into herself, with the kingdom of Portugal, +the whole East Indian trade of Portugal, while these fierce islanders +remained to assert, with cunning policy and texts of Scripture, and, if +they failed, with sharp shot and cold steel, free seas and free trade +for all the nations upon earth. He saw it, and his countrymen saw it +too: and therefore the Spanish Armada came: but of that hereafter. And +Don Guzman knew also, by hard experience, that these same islanders, who +sat in Salterne's parlor, talking broad Devon through their noses, were +no mere counters of money and hucksters of goods: but men who, though +they thoroughly hated fighting, and loved making money instead, could +fight, upon occasion, after a very dogged and terrible fashion, as well +as the bluest blood in Spain; and who sent out their merchant ships +armed up to the teeth, and filled with men who had been trained from +childhood to use those arms, and had orders to use them without mercy +if either Spaniard, Portugal, or other created being dared to stop their +money-making. And one evening he waxed quite mad, when, after having +civilly enough hinted that if Englishmen came where they had no right to +come, they might find themselves sent back again, he was answered by a +volley of-- + +“We'll see that, sir.” + +“Depends on who says 'No right.'” + +“You found might right,” said another, “when you claimed the Indian +seas; we may find right might when we try them.” + +“Try them, then, gentlemen, by all means, if it shall so please your +worships; and find the sacred flag of Spain as invincible as ever was +the Roman eagle.” + +“We have, sir. Did you ever hear of Francis Drake?” + +“Or of George Fenner and the Portugals at the Azores, one against +seven?” + +“Or of John Hawkins, at St. Juan d'Ulloa?” + +“You are insolent burghers,” said Don Guzman, and rose to go. + +“Sir,” said old Salterne, “as you say, we are burghers and plain men, +and some of us have forgotten ourselves a little, perhaps; we must beg +you to forgive our want of manners, and to put it down to the strength +of my wine; for insolent we never meant to be, especially to a noble +gentleman and a foreigner.” + +But the Don would not be pacified; and walked out, calling himself +an ass and a blinkard for having demeaned himself to such a company, +forgetting that he had brought it on himself. + +Salterne (prompted by the great devil Mammon) came up to him next day, +and begged pardon again; promising, moreover, that none of those who had +been so rude should be henceforth asked to meet him, if he would deign +to honor his house once more. And the Don actually was appeased, and +went there the very next evening, sneering at himself the whole time for +going. + +“Fool that I am! that girl has bewitched me, I believe. Go I must, and +eat my share of dirt, for her sake.” + +So he went; and, cunningly enough, hinted to old Salterne that he +had taken such a fancy to him, and felt so bound by his courtesy and +hospitality, that he might not object to tell him things which he would +not mention to every one; for that the Spaniards were not jealous of +single traders, but of any general attempt to deprive them of their +hard-earned wealth: that, however, in the meanwhile, there were plenty +of opportunities for one man here and there to enrich himself, etc. + +Old Salterne, shrewd as he was, had his weak point, and the Spaniard had +touched it; and delighted at this opportunity of learning the mysteries +of the Spanish monopoly, he often actually set Rose on to draw out the +Don, without a fear (so blind does money make men) lest she might be +herself drawn in. For, first, he held it as impossible that she would +think of marrying a Popish Spaniard as of marrying the man in the moon; +and, next, as impossible that he would think of marrying a burgher's +daughter as of marrying a negress; and trusted that the religion of the +one, and the family pride of the other, would keep them as separate as +beings of two different species. And as for love without marriage, if +such a possibility ever crossed him, the thought was rendered absurd; +on Rose's part by her virtue, on which the old roan (and rightly) would +have staked every farthing he had on earth; and on the Don's part, by a +certain human fondness for the continuity of the carotid artery and the +parts adjoining, for which (and that not altogether justly, seeing +that Don Guzman cared as little for his own life as he did for his +neighbor's) Mr. Salterne gave him credit. And so it came to pass, that +for weeks and months the merchant's house was the Don's favorite haunt, +and he saw the Rose of Torridge daily, and the Rose of Torridge heard +him. + +And as for her, poor child, she had never seen such a man. He had, or +seemed to have, all the high-bred grace of Frank, and yet he was cast in +a manlier mould; he had just enough of his nation's proud self-assertion +to make a woman bow before him as before a superior, and yet tact enough +to let it very seldom degenerate into that boastfulness of which the +Spaniards were then so often and so justly accused. He had marvels to +tell by flood and field as many and more than Amyas; and he told +them with a grace and an eloquence of which modest, simple, old Amyas +possessed nothing. Besides, he was on the spot, and the Leighs were not, +nor indeed were any of her old lovers; and what could she do but amuse +herself with the only person who came to hand? + +So thought, in time, more ladies than she; for the country, the north of +it at least, was all but bare just then of young gallants, what with the +Netherland wars and the Irish wars; and the Spaniard became soon welcome +at every house for many a mile round, and made use of his welcome so +freely, and received so much unwonted attention from fair young dames, +that his head might have been a little turned, and Rose Salterne have +thereby escaped, had not Sir Richard delicately given him to understand +that in spite of the free and easy manners of English ladies, brothers +were just as jealous, and ladies' honors at least as inexpugnable, as +in the land of demureness and duennas. Don Guzman took the hint well +enough, and kept on good terms with the country gentlemen as with their +daughters; and to tell the truth, the cunning soldier of fortune found +his account in being intimate with all the ladies he could, in order to +prevent old Salterne from fancying that he had any peculiar predilection +for Mistress Rose. + +Nevertheless, Mr. Salterne's parlor being nearest to him, still remained +his most common haunt; where, while he discoursed for hours about + + “Antres vast and deserts idle, + And of the cannibals that each other eat, + Of Anthropophagi, and men whose heads + Do grow beneath their shoulders,” + +to the boundless satisfaction of poor Rose's fancy, he took care to +season his discourse with scraps of mercantile information, which kept +the old merchant always expectant and hankering for more, and made it +worth his while to ask the Spaniard in again and again. + +And his stories, certainly, were worth hearing. He seemed to have been +everywhere, and to have seen everything: born in Peru, and sent home to +Spain at ten years old; brought up in Italy; a soldier in the Levant; an +adventurer to the East Indies; again in America, first in the islands, +and then in Mexico. Then back again to Spain, and thence to Rome, and +thence to Ireland. Shipwrecked; captive among savages; looking down the +craters of volcanoes; hanging about all the courts of Europe; fighting +Turks, Indians, lions, elephants, alligators, and what not? At +five-and-thirty he had seen enough for three lives, and knew how to make +the best of what he had seen. + +He had shared, as a lad, in the horrors of the memorable siege of +Famagusta, and had escaped, he hardly knew himself how, from the hands +of the victorious Turks, and from the certainty (if he escaped being +flayed alive or impaled, as most of the captive officers were) of ending +his life as a Janissary at the Sultan's court. He had been at the Battle +of the Three Kings; had seen Stukely borne down by a hundred lances, +unconquered even in death; and had held upon his knee the head of the +dying King of Portugal. + +And now, as he said to Rose one evening, what had he left on earth, but +a heart trampled as hard as the pavement? Whom had he to love? Who loved +him? He had nothing for which to live but fame: and even that was denied +to him, a prisoner in a foreign land. + +Had he no kindred, then? asked pitying Rose. + +“My two sisters are in a convent;--they had neither money nor beauty; +so they are dead to me. My brother is a Jesuit, so he is dead to me. My +father fell by the hands of Indians in Mexico; my mother, a penniless +widow, is companion, duenna--whatsoever they may choose to call +it--carrying fans and lapdogs for some princess or other there in +Seville, of no better blood than herself; and I--devil! I have lost even +my sword--and so fares the house of De Soto.” + +Don Guzman, of course, intended to be pitied, and pitied he was +accordingly. And then he would turn the conversation, and begin telling +Italian stories, after the Italian fashion, according to his auditory: +the pathetic ones when Rose was present, the racy ones when she was +absent; so that Rose had wept over the sorrows of Juliet and Desdemona, +and over many another moving tale, long before they were ever enacted +on an English stage, and the ribs of the Bideford worthies had shaken to +many a jest which Cinthio and Bandello's ghosts must come and make for +themselves over again if they wish them to be remembered, for I shall +lend them no shove toward immortality. + +And so on, and so on. What need of more words? Before a year was out, +Rose Salterne was far more in love with Don Guzman than he with her; and +both suspected each other's mind, though neither hinted at the truth; +she from fear, and he, to tell the truth, from sheer Spanish pride of +blood. For he soon began to find out that he must compromise that blood +by marrying the heretic burgher's daughter, or all his labor would be +thrown away. + +He had seen with much astonishment, and then practised with much +pleasure, that graceful old English fashion of saluting every lady on +the cheek at meeting, which (like the old Dutch fashion of asking young +ladies out to feasts without their mothers) used to give such cause of +brutal calumny and scandal to the coarse minds of Romish visitors from +the Continent; and he had seen, too, fuming with jealous rage, more than +one Bideford burgher, redolent of onions, profane in that way the velvet +cheek of Rose Salterne. + +So, one day, he offered his salute in like wise; but he did it when she +was alone; for something within (perhaps a guilty conscience) whispered +that it might be hardly politic to make the proffer in her father's +presence: however, to his astonishment, he received a prompt though +quiet rebuff. + +“No, sir; you should know that my cheek is not for you.” + +“Why,” said he, stifling his anger, “it seems free enough to every +counter-jumper in the town!” + +Was it love, or simple innocence, which made her answer apologetically? + +“True, Don Guzman; but they are my equals.” + +“And I?” + +“You are a nobleman, sir; and should recollect that you are one.” + +“Well,” said he, forcing a sneer, “it is a strange taste to prefer the +shopkeeper!” + +“Prefer?” said she, forcing a laugh in her turn; “it is a mere form +among us. They are nothing to me, I can tell you.” + +“And I, then, less than nothing?” + +Rose turned very red; but she had nerve to answer-- + +“And why should you be anything to me? You have condescended too much, +sir, already to us, in giving us many a--many a pleasant evening. You +must condescend no further. You wrong yourself, sir, and me too. No, +sir; not a step nearer!--I will not! A salute between equals means +nothing: but between you and me--I vow, sir, if you do not leave me this +moment, I will complain to my father.” + +“Do so, madam! I care as little for your father's anger, as you for my +misery.” + +“Cruel!” cried Rose, trembling from head to foot. + +“I love you, madam!” cried he, throwing himself at her feet. “I adore +you! Never mention differences of rank to me more; for I have forgotten +them; forgotten all but love, all but you, madam! My light, my lodestar, +my princess, my goddess! You see where my pride is gone; remember I +plead as a suppliant, a beggar--though one who may be one day a prince, +a king! ay, and a prince now, a very Lucifer of pride to all except to +you; to you a wretch who grovels at your feet, and cries, 'Have mercy +on me, on my loneliness, my homelessness, my friendlessness.' Ah, Rose +(madam I should have said, forgive the madness of my passion), you know +not the heart which you break. Cold Northerns, you little dream how a +Spaniard can love. Love? Worship, rather; as I worship you, madam; as +I bless the captivity which brought me the sight of you, and the ruin +which first made me rich. Is it possible, saints and Virgin! do my own +tears deceive my eyes, or are there tears, too, in those radiant orbs?” + +“Go, sir!” cried poor Rose, recovering herself suddenly; “and let me +never see you more.” And, as a last chance for life, she darted out of +the room. + +“Your slave obeys you, madam, and kisses your hands and feet forever +and a day,” said the cunning Spaniard, and drawing himself up, walked +serenely out of the house; while she, poor fool, peeped after him out +of her window upstairs, and her heart sank within her as she watched his +jaunty and careless air. + +How much of that rhapsody of his was honest, how much premeditated, I +cannot tell: though she, poor child, began to fancy that it was all a +set speech, when she found that he had really taken her at her word, and +set foot no more within her father's house. So she reproached herself +for the cruelest of women; settled, that if he died, she should be his +murderess; watched for him to pass at the window, in hopes that he might +look up, and then hid herself in terror the moment he appeared round +the corner; and so forth, and so forth:--one love-making is very like +another, and has been so, I suppose, since that first blessed marriage +in Paradise, when Adam and Eve made no love at all, but found it +ready-made for them from heaven; and really it is fiddling while Rome +is burning, to spend more pages over the sorrows of poor little Rose +Salterne, while the destinies of Europe are hanging on the marriage +between Elizabeth and Anjou: and Sir Humphrey Gilbert is stirring heaven +and earth, and Devonshire, of course, as the most important portion +of the said earth, to carry out his dormant patent, which will give to +England in due time (we are not jesting now) Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, +and Canada, and the Northern States; and to Humphrey Gilbert himself +something better than a new world, namely another world, and a crown of +glory therein which never fades away. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HOW EUSTACE LEIGH MET THE POPE'S LEGATE + + “Misguided, rash, intruding fool, farewell! + Thou see'st to be too busy is some danger.” + + Hamlet. + +It is the spring of 1582-3. The gray March skies are curdling hard and +high above black mountain peaks. The keen March wind is sweeping harsh +and dry across a dreary sheet of bog, still red and yellow with the +stains of winter frost. One brown knoll alone breaks the waste, and on +it a few leafless wind-clipt oaks stretch their moss-grown arms, like +giant hairy spiders, above a desolate pool which crisps and shivers in +the biting breeze, while from beside its brink rises a mournful cry, and +sweeps down, faint and fitful, amid the howling of the wind. + +Along the brink of the bog, picking their road among crumbling rocks and +green spongy springs, a company of English soldiers are pushing fast, +clad cap-a-pie in helmet and quilted jerkin, with arquebus on shoulder, +and pikes trailing behind them; stern steadfast men, who, two years +since, were working the guns at Smerwick fort, and have since then seen +many a bloody fray, and shall see more before they die. Two captains +ride before them on shaggy ponies, the taller in armor, stained and +rusted with many a storm and fray, the other in brilliant inlaid cuirass +and helmet, gaudy sash and plume, and sword hilt glittering with gold, +a quaint contrast enough to the meager garron which carries him and his +finery. Beside them, secured by a cord which a pikeman has fastened to +his own wrist, trots a bare-legged Irish kerne, whose only clothing is +his ragged yellow mantle, and the unkempt “glib” of hair, through which +his eyes peer out, right and left, in mingled fear and sullenness. He is +the guide of the company, in their hunt after the rebel Baltinglas; and +woe to him if he play them false. + +“A pleasant country, truly, Captain Raleigh,” says the dingy officer to +the gay one. “I wonder how, having once escaped from it to Whitehall, +you have the courage to come back and spoil that gay suit with bog-water +and mud.” + +“A very pleasant country, my friend Amyas; what you say in jest, I say +in earnest.” + +“Hillo! Our tastes have changed places. I am sick of it already, as you +foretold. Would Heaven that I could hear of some adventure Westward-ho! +and find these big bones swinging in a hammock once more. Pray what has +made you so suddenly in love with bog and rock, that you come back to +tramp them with us? I thought you had spied out the nakedness of the +land long ago.” + +“Bog and rock? Nakedness of the land? What is needed here but prudence +and skill, justice and law? This soil, see, is fat enough, if men were +here to till it. These rocks--who knows what minerals they may hold? I +hear of gold and jewels found already in divers parts; and Daniel, my +brother Humphrey's German assayer, assures me that these rocks are of +the very same kind as those which yield the silver in Peru. Tut, man! +if her gracious majesty would but bestow on me some few square miles of +this same wilderness, in seven years' time I would make it blossom like +the rose, by God's good help.” + +“Humph! I should be more inclined to stay here, then.” + +“So you shall, and be my agent, if you will, to get in my mine-rents and +my corn-rents, and my fishery-rents, eh? Could you keep accounts, old +knight of the bear's-paw?” + +“Well enough for such short reckonings as yours would be, on the profit +side at least. No, no--I'd sooner carry lime all my days from Cauldy to +Bideford, than pass another twelve-month in the land of Ire, among +the children of wrath. There is a curse upon the face of the earth, I +believe.” + +“There is no curse upon it, save the old one of man's sin--'Thorns and +thistles it shall bring forth to thee.' But if you root up the thorns +and thistles, Amyas, I know no fiend who can prevent your growing wheat +instead; and if you till the ground like a man, you plough and barrow +away nature's curse, and other fables of the schoolmen beside,” added +he, in that daring fashion which afterwards obtained for him (and never +did good Christian less deserve it) the imputation of atheism. + +“It is sword and bullet, I think, that are needed here, before plough +and harrow, to clear away some of the curse. Until a few more of these +Irish lords are gone where the Desmonds are, there is no peace for +Ireland.” + +“Humph! not so far wrong, I fear. And yet--Irish lords? These very +traitors are better English blood than we who hunt them down. When Yeo +here slew the Desmond the other day, he no more let out a drop of Irish +blood, than if he had slain the lord deputy himself.” + +“His blood be on his own head,” said Yeo, “He looked as wild a savage as +the worst of them, more shame to him; and the ancient here had nigh cut +off his arm before he told us who he was: and then, your worship, having +a price upon his head, and like to bleed to death too--” + +“Enough, enough, good fellow,” said Raleigh. “Thou hast done what was +given thee to do. Strange, Amyas, is it not? Noble Normans sunk into +savages--Hibernis ipsis hiberniores! Is there some uncivilizing venom in +the air?” + +“Some venom, at least, which makes English men traitors. But the Irish +themselves are well enough, if their tyrants would let them be. See now, +what more faithful liegeman has her majesty than the Inchiquin, who, +they say, is Prince of Themond, and should be king of all Ireland, if +every man had his right?” + +“Don't talk of rights in the land of wrongs, man. But the Inchiquin +knows well that the true Irish Esau has no worse enemy than his +supplanter, the Norman Jacob. And yet, Amyas are even these men worse +than we might be, if we had been bred up masters over the bodies and +souls of men, in some remote land where law and order had never come? +Look at this Desmond, brought up a savage among savages, a Papist among +Papists, a despot among slaves; a thousand easy maidens deeming it honor +to serve his pleasure, a thousand wild ruffians deeming it piety to +fulfil his revenge: and let him that is without sin among us cast the +first stone.” + +“Ay,” went on Raleigh to himself, as the conversation dropped. “What +hadst thou been, Raleigh, hadst thou been that Desmond whose lands thou +now desirest? What wilt thou be when thou hast them? Will thy children +sink downwards, as these noble barons sank? Will the genius of tyranny +and falsehood find soil within thy heart to grow and ripen fruit? What +guarantee hast thou for doing better here than those who went before +thee? And yet, cannot I do justice and love mercy? Can I not establish +plantations, build and sow, and make the desert valleys laugh with corn? +Shall I not have my Spenser with me, to fill me with all noble thoughts, +and raise my soul to his heroic pitch? Is not this true knight-errantry, +to redeem to peace and use, and to the glory of that glorious queen whom +God has given to me, a generous soil and a more generous race? Trustful +and tenderhearted they are--none more; and if they be fickle and +passionate, will not that very softness of temper, which makes them so +easily led to evil, make them as easy to be led towards good? Yes--here, +away from courts, among a people who should bless me as their benefactor +and deliverer--what golden days might be mine! And yet--is this but +another angel's mask from that same cunning fiend ambition's stage? And +will my house be indeed the house of God, the foundations of which are +loyalty, and its bulwarks righteousness, and not the house of fame, +whose walls are of the soap-bubble, and its floor a sea of glass mingled +with fire? I would be good and great--When will the day come when I +shall be content to be good, and yet not great, like this same simple +Leigh, toiling on by my side to do his duty, with no more thought for +the morrow than the birds of God? Greatness? I have tasted that cup +within the last twelve months; do I not know that it is sweet in the +mouth, but bitter in the belly? Greatness? And was not Essex great, and +John of Austria great, and Desmond great, whose race, but three +short years ago, had stood for ages higher than I shall ever hope to +climb--castles, and lands, and slaves by thousands, and five hundred +gentlemen of his name, who had vowed to forswear God before they +forswore him and well have they kept their vow! And now, dead in a +turf-hovel, like a coney in a burrow! Leigh, what noise was that?” + +“An Irish howl, I fancied: but it came from off the bog; it may be only +a plover's cry.” + +“Something not quite right, sir captain, to my mind,” said the ancient. +“They have ugly stories here of pucks and banshees, and what not of +ghosts. There it was again, wailing just like a woman. They say the +banshee cried all night before Desmond was slain.” + +“Perhaps, then, this one may be crying for Baltinglas; for his turn is +likely to come next--not that I believe in such old wives' tales.” + +“Shamus, my man,” said Amyas to the guide, “do you hear that cry in the +bog?” + +The guide put on the most stolid of faces, and answered in broken +English-- + +“Shamus hear naught. Perhaps--what you call him?--fishing in ta pool.” + +“An otter, he means, and I believe he is right. Stay, no! Did you not +hear it then, Shamus? It was a woman's voice.” + +“Shamus is shick in his ears ever since Christmas.” + +“Shamus will go after Desmond if he lies,” said Amyas. “Ancient, we had +better send a few men to see what it is; there may be a poor soul taken +by robbers, or perhaps starving to death, as I have seen many a one.” + +“And I too, poor wretches; and by no fault of their own or ours either: +but if their lords will fall to quarrelling, and then drive each other's +cattle, and waste each other's lands, sir, you know--” + +“I know,” said Amyas, impatiently; “why dost not take the men, and go?” + +“Cry you mercy, noble captain, but--I fear nothing born of woman.” + +“Well, what of that?” said Amyas, with a smile. + +“But these pucks, sir. The wild Irish do say that they haunt the pools; +and they do no manner of harm, sir, when you are coming up to them; but +when you are past, sir, they jump on your back like to apes, sir,--and +who can tackle that manner of fiend?” + +“Why, then, by thine own showing, ancient,” said Raleigh, “thou may'st +go and see all safely enough, and then if the puck jumps on thee as thou +comest back, just run in with him here, and I'll buy him of thee for a +noble; or thou may'st keep him in a cage, and make money in London by +showing him for a monster.” + +“Good heavens forefend, Captain Raleigh! but you talk rashly! But if I +must, Captain Leigh-- + + 'Where duty calls + To brazen walls, + How base the slave who flinches' + +Lads, who'll follow me?” + +“Thou askest for volunteers, as if thou wert to lead a forlorn hope. +Pull away at the usquebaugh, man, and swallow Dutch courage, since thine +English is oozed away. Stay, I'll go myself.” + +“And I with you,” said Raleigh. “As the queen's true knight-errant, I +am bound to be behindhand in no adventure. Who knows but we may find a +wicked magician, just going to cut off the head of some saffron-mantled +princess?” and he dismounted. + +“Oh, sirs, sirs, to endanger your precious--” + +“Pooh,” said Raleigh. “I wear an amulet, and have a spell of art-magic +at my tongue's end, whereby, sir ancient, neither can a ghost see me, +nor I see them. Come with us, Yeo, the Desmond-slayer, and we will shame +the devil, or be shamed by him.” + +“He may shame me, sir, but he will never frighten me,” quoth Yeo; “but +the bog, captains?” + +“Tut! Devonshire men, and heath-trotters born, and not know our way over +a peat moor!” + +And the three strode away. + +They splashed and scrambled for some quarter of a mile to the knoll, +while the cry became louder and louder as they neared. + +“That's neither ghost nor otter, sirs, but a true Irish howl, as Captain +Leigh said; and I'll warrant Master Shamus knew as much long ago,” said +Yeo. + +And in fact, they could now hear plainly the “Ochone, Ochonorie,” of +some wild woman; and scrambling over the boulders of the knoll, in +another minute came full upon her. + +She was a young girl, sluttish and unkempt, of course, but fair enough: +her only covering, as usual, was the ample yellow mantle. There she sat +upon a stone, tearing her black dishevelled hair, and every now and then +throwing up her head, and bursting into a long mournful cry, “for all +the world,” as Yeo said, “like a dumb four-footed hound, and not a +Christian soul.” + +On her knees lay the head of a man of middle age, in the long soutane of +a Romish priest. One look at the attitude of his limbs told them that he +was dead. + +The two paused in awe; and Raleigh's spirit, susceptible of all poetical +images, felt keenly that strange scene,--the bleak and bitter sky, the +shapeless bog, the stunted trees, the savage girl alone with the corpse +in that utter desolation. And as she bent her head over the still face, +and called wildly to him who heard her not, and then, utterly unmindful +of the intruders, sent up again that dreary wail into the dreary air, +they felt a sacred horror, which almost made them turn away, and leave +her unquestioned: but Yeo, whose nerves were of tougher fibre, asked +quietly-- + +“Shall I go and search the fellow, captain?” + +“Better, I think,” said Amyas. + +Raleigh went gently to the girl, and spoke to her in English. She looked +up at him, his armor and his plume, with wide and wondering eyes, and +then shook her head, and returned to her lamentation. + +Raleigh gently laid his hand on her arm, and lifted her up, while Yeo +and Amyas bent over the corpse. + +It was the body of a large and coarse-featured man, but wasted and +shrunk as if by famine to a very skeleton. The hands and legs were +cramped up, and the trunk bowed together, as if the man had died of cold +or famine. Yeo drew back the clothes from the thin bosom, while the girl +screamed and wept, but made no effort to stop him. + +“Ask her who it is? Yeo, you know a little Irish,” said Amyas. + +He asked, but the girl made no answer. “The stubborn jade won't tell, of +course, sir. If she were but a man, I'd make her soon enough.” + +“Ask her who killed him?” + +“No one, she says; and I believe she says true, for I can find no wound. +The man has been starved, sirs, as I am a sinful man. God help him, +though he is a priest; and yet he seems full enough down below. What's +here? A big pouch, sirs, stuffed full of somewhat.” + +“Hand it hither.” + +The two opened the pouch; papers, papers, but no scrap of food. Then a +parchment. They unrolled it. + +“Latin,” said Amyas; “you must construe, Don Scholar.” + +“Is it possible?” said Raleigh, after reading a moment. “This is indeed +a prize! This is Saunders himself!” + +Yeo sprang up from the body as if he had touched an adder. “Nick +Saunders, the Legacy, sir?” + +“Nicholas Saunders, the legate.” + +“The villain! why did not he wait for me to have the comfort of killing +him? Dog!” and he kicked the corpse with his foot. + +“Quiet! quiet! Remember the poor girl,” said Amyas, as she shrieked at +the profanation, while Raleigh went on, half to himself: + +“Yes, this is Saunders. Misguided fool, and this is the end! To this +thou hast come with thy plotting and thy conspiring, thy lying and thy +boasting, consecrated banners and Pope's bulls, Agnus Deis and holy +waters, the blessing of all saints and angels, and thy Lady of the +Immaculate Conception! Thou hast called on the heavens to judge between +thee and us, and here is their answer! What is that in his hand, Amyas? +Give it me. A pastoral epistle to the Earl of Ormond, and all nobles of +the realm of Ireland; 'To all who groan beneath the loathsome tyranny +of an illegitimate adulteress, etc., Nicholas Saunders, by the grace +of God, Legate, etc.' Bah! and this forsooth was thy last meditation! +Incorrigible pedant! Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed victa Catoni!” + +He ran his eye through various other documents, written in the usual +strain: full of huge promises from the Pope and the king of Spain; +frantic and filthy slanders against Elizabeth, Burghley, Leicester, +Essex (the elder), Sidney, and every great and good man (never mind +of which party) who then upheld the commonweal; bombastic attempts to +terrify weak consciences, by denouncing endless fire against those who +opposed the true faith; fulsome ascriptions of martyrdom and sanctity to +every rebel and traitor who had been hanged for the last twenty +years; wearisome arguments about the bull In Caena Domini, Elizabeth's +excommunication, the nullity of English law, the sacred duty of +rebellion, the right to kill a prince impenitently heretical, and the +like insanities and villainies, which may be read at large in Camden, +the Phoenix Britannicus, Fox's Martyrs, or, surest of all, in the +writings of the worthies themselves. + +With a gesture of disgust, Raleigh crammed the foul stuff back again +into the pouch. Taking it with them, they walked back to the company, +and then remounting, marched away once more towards the lands of the +Desmonds; and the girl was left alone with the dead. + +An hour had passed, when another Englishman was standing by the wailing +girl, and round him a dozen shockheaded kernes, skene on thigh and +javelin in hand, were tossing about their tawny rags, and adding their +lamentations to those of the lonely watcher. + +The Englishman was Eustace Leigh; a layman still, but still at his old +work. By two years of intrigue and labor from one end of Ireland to the +other, he had been trying to satisfy his conscience for rejecting “the +higher calling” of the celibate; for mad hopes still lurked within that +fiery heart. His brow was wrinkled now; his features harshened; the +scar upon his face, and the slight distortion which accompanied it, was +hidden by a bushy beard from all but himself; and he never forgot it for +a day, nor forgot who had given it to him. + +He had been with Desmond, wandering in moor and moss for many a month +in danger of his life; and now he was on his way to James Fitz-Eustace, +Lord Baltinglas, to bring him the news of Desmond's death; and with +him a remnant of the clan, who were either too stout-hearted, or too +desperately stained with crime, to seek peace from the English, and, as +their fellows did, find it at once and freely. + +There Eustace stood, looking down on all that was left of the most +sacred personage of Ireland; the man who, as he once had hoped, was to +regenerate his native land, and bring the proud island of the West once +more beneath that gentle yoke, in which united Christendom labored for +the commonweal of the universal Church. There he was, and with him all +Eustace's dreams, in the very heart of that country which he had vowed, +and believed as he vowed, was ready to rise in arms as one man, even to +the baby at the breast (so he had said), in vengeance against the Saxon +heretic, and sweep the hated name of Englishman into the deepest abysses +of the surge which walled her coasts; with Spain and the Pope to back +him, and the wealth of the Jesuits at his command; in the midst +of faithful Catholics, valiant soldiers, noblemen who had pledged +themselves to die for the cause, serfs who worshipped him as a +demigod--starved to death in a bog! It was a pretty plain verdict on the +reasonableness of his expectations; but not to Eustace Leigh. + +It was a failure, of course; but it was an accident; indeed, to have +been expected, in a wicked world whose prince and master, as all +knew, was the devil himself; indeed, proof of the righteousness of +the cause--for when had the true faith been other than persecuted and +trampled under foot? If one came to think of it with eyes purified from +the tears of carnal impatience, what was it but a glorious martyrdom? + +“Blest Saunders!” murmured Eustace Leigh; “let me die the death of the +righteous, and let my last end he like this! Ora pro me, most excellent +martyr, while I dig thy grave upon this lonely moor, to wait there for +thy translation to one of those stately shrines, which, cemented by the +blood of such as thee, shall hereafter rise restored toward heaven, to +make this land once more 'The Isle of Saints.'” + +The corpse was buried; a few prayers said hastily; and Eustace Leigh was +away again, not now to find Baltinglas; for it was more than his life +was worth. The girl had told him of the English soldiers who had passed, +and he knew that they would reach the earl probably before he did. The +game was up; all was lost. So he retraced his steps, as a desperate +resource, to the last place where he would be looked for, and after a +month of disguising, hiding, and other expedients, found himself again +in his native county of Devon, while Fitz-Eustace Viscount Baltinglas +had taken ship for Spain, having got little by his famous argument +to Ormond in behalf of his joining the Church of Rome, “Had not thine +ancestor, blessed Thomas of Canterbury, died for the Church of Rome, +thou hadst never been Earl of Ormond.” The premises were certainly +sounder than those of his party were wont to be; for it was to expiate +the murder of that turbulent hero that the Ormond lands had been granted +by Henry II.: but as for the conclusion therefrom, it was much on a par +with the rest. + +And now let us return to Raleigh and Amyas, as they jog along their +weary road. They have many things to talk of; for it is but three days +since they met. + +Amyas, as you see, is coming fast into Raleigh's old opinion of Ireland. +Raleigh, under the inspiration of a possible grant of Desmond's lands, +looks on bogs and rocks transfigured by his own hopes and fancy, as if +by the glory of a rainbow. He looked at all things so, noble fellow, +even thirty years after, when old, worn out, and ruined; well for him +had it been otherwise, and his heart had grown old with his head! Amyas, +who knows nothing about Desmond's lands, is puzzled at the change. + +“Why, what is this, Raleigh? You are like children sitting in the +market-place, and nothing pleases you. You wanted to get to Court, and +you have got there; and are lord and master, I hear, or something very +like it, already--and as soon as fortune stuffs your mouth full of +sweet-meats, do you turn informer on her?” + +Raleigh laughed insignificantly, but was silent. + +“And how is your friend Mr. Secretary Spenser, who was with us at +Smerwick?” + +“Spenser? He has thriven even as I have; and he has found, as I have, +that in making one friend at Court you make ten foes; but 'Oderint dum +metuant' is no more my motto than his, Leigh. I want to be great--great +I am already, they say, if princes' favor can swell the frog into an ox; +but I want to be liked, loved--I want to see people smile when I enter.” + +“So they do, I'll warrant,” said Amyas. + +“So do hyenas,” said Raleigh; “grin because they are hungry, and I may +throw them a bone; I'll throw you one now, old lad, or rather a good +sirloin of beef, for the sake of your smile. That's honest, at least, +I'll warrant, whosoever's else is not. Have you heard of my brother +Humphrey's new project?” + +“How should I hear anything in this waste howling wilderness?” + +“Kiss hands to the wilderness, then, and come with me to Newfoundland!” + +“You to Newfoundland?” + +“Yes. I to Newfoundland, unless my little matter here is settled at +once. Gloriana don't know it, and sha'n't till I'm off. She'd send me to +the Tower, I think, if she caught me playing truant. I could hardly get +leave to come hither; but I must out, and try my fortune. I am over ears +in debt already, and sick of courts and courtiers. Humphrey must go next +spring and take possession of his kingdom beyond seas, or his patent +expires; and with him I go, and you too, my circumnavigating giant.” + +And then Raleigh expounded to Amyas the details of the great +Newfoundland scheme, which whoso will may read in the pages of Hakluyt. + +Sir Humphrey Gilbert, Raleigh's half-brother, held a patent for +“planting” the lands of Newfoundland and “Meta Incognita” (Labrador). +He had attempted a voyage thither with Raleigh in 1578, whereof I never +could find any news, save that he came back again, after a heavy brush +with some Spanish ships (in which his best captain, Mr. Morgan, was +killed), having done nothing, and much impaired his own estate: but now +he had collected a large sum; Sir Gilbert Peckham of London, Mr. Hayes +of South Devon, and various other gentlemen, of whom more hereafter, had +adventured their money; and a considerable colony was to be sent out the +next year, with miners, assayers, and, what was more, Parmenius Budaeus, +Frank's old friend, who had come to England full of thirst to see the +wonders of the New World; and over and above this, as Raleigh told Amyas +in strictest secrecy, Adrian Gilbert, Humphrey's brother, was turning +every stone at Court for a patent of discovery in the North-West; +and this Newfoundland colony, though it was to produce gold, silver, +merchandise, and what not, was but a basis of operations, a halfway +house from whence to work out the North-West passage to the Indies--that +golden dream, as fatal to English valor as the Guiana one to +Spanish--and yet hardly, hardly to be regretted, when we remember the +seamanship, the science, the chivalry, the heroism, unequalled in the +history of the English nation, which it has called forth among those +our later Arctic voyagers, who have combined the knight-errantry of the +middle age with the practical prudence of the modern, and dared for duty +more than Cortez or Pizarro dared for gold. + +Amyas, simple fellow, took all in greedily; he knew enough of the +dangers of the Magellan passage to appreciate the boundless value of a +road to the East Indies which would (as all supposed then) save half the +distance, and be as it were a private possession of the English, safe +from Spanish interference; and he listened reverently to Sir Humphrey's +quaint proofs, half true, half fantastic, of such a passage, which +Raleigh detailed to him--of the Primum Mobile, and its diurnal motion +from east to west, in obedience to which the sea-current flowed westward +ever round the Cape of Good Hope, and being unable to pass through the +narrow strait between South America and the Antarctic Continent, rushed +up the American shore, as the Gulf Stream, and poured northwestward +between Greenland and Labrador towards Cathay and India; of that most +crafty argument of Sir Humphrey's--how Aristotle in his book “De Mundo,” + and Simon Gryneus in his annotations thereon, declare that the world +(the Old World) is an island, compassed by that which Homer calls the +river Oceanus; ergo, the New World is an island also, and there is +a North-West passage; of the three brothers (names unknown) who had +actually made the voyage, and named what was afterwards called Davis's +Strait after themselves; of the Indians who were cast ashore in Germany +in the reign of Frederic Barbarossa who, as Sir Humphrey had learnedly +proved per modum tollendi, could have come only by the North-West; and +above all, of Salvaterra, the Spaniard, who in 1568 had told Sir Henry +Sidney (Philip's father), there in Ireland, how he had spoken with a +Mexican friar named Urdaneta, who had himself come from Mar del Zur (the +Pacific) into Germany by that very North-West passage; at which last +Amyas shook his head, and said that friars were liars, and seeing +believing; “but if you must needs have an adventure, you insatiable soul +you, why not try for the golden city of Manoa?” + +“Manoa?” asked Raleigh, who had heard, as most had, dim rumors of the +place. “What do you know of it?” + +Whereon Amyas told him all that he had gathered from the Spaniard; and +Raleigh, in his turn, believed every word. + +“Humph!” said he after a long silence. “To find that golden emperor; +offer him help and friendship from the queen of England; defend him +against the Spaniards; if we became strong enough, conquer back all Peru +from the Popish tyrants, and reinstate him on the throne of the Incas, +with ourselves for his body-guard, as the Norman Varangians were to +the effeminate emperors of Byzant--Hey, Amyas? You would make a gallant +chieftain of Varangs. We'll do it, lad!” + +“We'll try,” said Amyas; “but we must be quick, for there's one Berreo +sworn to carry out the quest to the death; and if the Spaniards once get +thither, their plan of works will be much more like Pizarro's than like +yours; and by the time we come, there will be neither gold nor city +left.” + +“Nor Indians either, I'll warrant the butchers; but, lad, I am promised +to Humphrey; I have a bark fitting out already, and all I have, and +more, adventured in her; so Manoa must wait.” + +“It will wait well enough, if the Spaniards prosper no better on the +Amazon than they have done; but must I come with you? To tell the truth, +I am quite shore-sick, and to sea I must go. What will my mother say?” + +“I'll manage thy mother,” said Raleigh; and so he did; for, to cut a +long story short, he went back the month after, and he not only took +home letters from Amyas to his mother, but so impressed on that good +lady the enormous profits and honors to be derived from Meta Incognita, +and (which was most true) the advantage to any young man of sailing +with such a general as Humphrey Gilbert, most pious and most learned of +seamen and of cavaliers, beloved and honored above all his compeers by +Queen Elizabeth, that she consented to Amyas's adventuring in the +voyage some two hundred pounds which had come to him as his share of +prize-money, after the ever memorable circumnavigation. For Mrs. +Leigh, be it understood, was no longer at Burrough Court. By Frank's +persuasion, she had let the old place, moved up to London with her +eldest son, and taken for herself a lodging somewhere by Palace Stairs, +which looked out upon the silver Thames (for Thames was silver then), +with its busy ferries and gliding boats, across to the pleasant fields +of Lambeth, and the Archbishop's palace, and the wooded Surrey hills; +and there she spent her peaceful days, close to her Frank and to the +Court. Elizabeth would have had her re-enter it, offering her a small +place in the household: but she declined, saying that she was too old +and heart-weary for aught but prayer. So by prayer she lived, under the +sheltering shadow of the tall minster where she went morn and even to +worship, and to entreat for the two in whom her heart was bound up; and +Frank slipped in every day if but for five minutes, and brought with him +Spenser, or Raleigh, or Dyer, or Budaeus or sometimes Sidney's self: and +there was talk of high and holy things, of which none could speak better +than could she; and each guest went from that hallowed room a humbler +and yet a loftier man. So slipped on the peaceful months, and few +and far between came Irish letters, for Ireland was then farther from +Westminster than is the Black Sea now; but those were days in which +wives and mothers had learned (as they have learned once more, sweet +souls!) to walk by faith and not by sight for those they love: and Mrs. +Leigh was content (though when was she not content?) to hear that Amyas +was winning a good report as a brave and prudent officer, sober, just, +and faithful, beloved and obeyed alike by English soldiers and Irish +kernes. + +Those two years, and the one which followed, were the happiest which she +had known since her husband's death. But the cloud was fast coming up +the horizon, though she saw it not. A little longer, and the sun would +be hid for many a wintry day. + +Amyas went to Plymouth (with Yeo, of course, at his heels), and there +beheld, for the first time, the majestic countenance of the philosopher +of Compton castle. He lodged with Drake, and found him not over-sanguine +as to the success of the voyage. + +“For learning and manners, Amyas, there's not his equal; and the queen +may well love him, and Devon be proud of him: but book-learning is not +business: book-learning didn't get me round the world; book-learning +didn't make Captain Hawkins, nor his father neither, the best +ship-builders from Hull to Cadiz; and book-learning, I very much fear, +won't plant Newfoundland.” + +However, the die was cast, and the little fleet of five sail assembled +in Cawsand Bay. Amyas was to go as a gentleman adventurer on board of +Raleigh's bark; Raleigh himself, however, at the eleventh hour, had been +forbidden by the queen to leave England. Ere they left, Sir Humphrey +Gilbert's picture was painted by some Plymouth artist, to be sent up to +Elizabeth in answer to a letter and a gift sent by Raleigh, which, as a +specimen of the men and of the time, I here transcribe*-- + + +“BROTHER--I have sent you a token from her Majesty, an anchor guided +by a lady, as you see. And further, her Highness willed me to send you +word, that she wisheth you as great good hap and safety to your ship as +if she were there in person, desiring you to have care of yourself as of +that which she tendereth and, therefore, for her sake, you must provide +for it accordingly. Furthermore, she commandeth that you leave your +picture with her. For the rest I leave till our meeting, or to the +report of the bearer, who would needs be the messenger of this good +news. So I commit you to the will and protection of God, who send us +such life and death as he shall please, or hath appointed. + +“Richmond, this Friday morning, + +“Your true Brother, + +“W. RALEIGH.” + + * This letter was a few years since in the possession of Mr. + Pomeroy Gilbert, fort-major at Dartmouth, a descendant of + the admiral's. + +“Who would not die, sir, for such a woman?” said Sir Humphrey (and he +said truly), as he showed that letter to Amyas. + +“Who would not? But she bids you rather live for her.” + +“I shall do both, young man; and for God too, I trust. We are going in +God's cause; we go for the honor of God's Gospel, for the deliverance of +poor infidels led captive by the devil; for the relief of my distressed +countrymen unemployed within this narrow isle; and to God we commit our +cause. We fight against the devil himself; and stronger is He that is +within us than he that is against us.” + +Some say that Raleigh himself came down to Plymouth, accompanied the +fleet a day's sail to sea, and would have given her majesty the slip, +and gone with them Westward-ho, but for Sir Humphrey's advice. It is +likely enough: but I cannot find evidence for it. At all events, on the +11th June the fleet sailed out, having, says Mr. Hayes, “in number about +260 men, among whom we had of every faculty good choice, as shipwrights, +masons, carpenters, smiths, and such like, requisite for such an action; +also mineral men and refiners. Beside, for solace of our people and +allurement of the savages, we were provided of musique in good variety; +not omitting the least toys, as morris-dancers, hobby-horses, and +May-like conceits, to delight the savage people, whom we intended to win +by all fair means possible.” An armament complete enough, even to that +tenderness towards the Indians, which is so striking a feature of +the Elizabethan seamen (called out in them, perhaps, by horror at the +Spanish cruelties, as well as by their more liberal creed), and to the +daily service of God on board of every ship, according to the simple +old instructions of Captain John Hawkins to one of his little squadrons, +“Keep good company; beware of fire; serve God daily; and love one +another”--an armament, in short, complete in all but men. The sailors +had been picked up hastily and anywhere, and soon proved themselves a +mutinous, and, in the case of the bark Swallow, a piratical set. The +mechanics were little better. The gentlemen-adventurers, puffed up with +vain hopes of finding a new Mexico, became soon disappointed and surly +at the hard practical reality; while over all was the head of a sage and +an enthusiast, a man too noble to suspect others, and too pure to +make allowances for poor dirty human weaknesses. He had got his scheme +perfect upon paper; well for him, and for his company, if he had asked +Francis Drake to translate it for him into fact! As early as the second +day, the seeds of failure began to sprout above ground. The men of +Raleigh's bark, the Vice-Admiral, suddenly found themselves seized, or +supposed themselves seized, with a contagious sickness, and at midnight +forsook the fleet, and went back to Plymouth; whereto Mr. Hayes can only +say, “The reason I never could understand. Sure I am that Mr. Raleigh +spared no cost in setting them forth. And so I leave it unto God!” + +But Amyas said more. He told Butler the captain plainly that, if the +bark went back, he would not; that he had seen enough of ships deserting +their consorts; that it should never be said of him that he had followed +Winter's example, and that, too, on a fair easterly wind; and finally +that he had seen Doughty hanged for trying to play such a trick; and +that he might see others hanged too before he died. Whereon Captain +Butler offered to draw and fight, to which Amyas showed no repugnance; +whereon the captain, having taken a second look at Amyas's thews and +sinews, reconsidered the matter, and offered to put Amyas on board of +Sir Humphrey's Delight, if he could find a crew to row him. + +Amyas looked around. + +“Are there any of Sir Francis Drake's men on board?” + +“Three, sir,” said Yeo. “Robert Drew, and two others.” + +“Pelicans!” roared Amyas, “you have been round the world, and will you +turn back from Westward-ho?” + +There was a moment's silence, and then Drew came forward. + +“Lower us a boat, captain, and lend us a caliver to make signals with, +while I get my kit on deck; I'll after Captain Leigh, if I row him +aboard all alone to my own hands.” + +“If I ever command a ship, I will not forget you,” said Amyas. + +“Nor us either, sir, we hope; for we haven't forgotten you and your +honest conditions,” said both the other Pelicans; and so away over the +side went all the five, and pulled away after the admiral's lantern, +firing shots at intervals as signals. Luckily for the five desperadoes, +the night was all but calm. They got on board before the morning, and so +away into the boundless West.* + + * The Raleigh, the largest ship of the squadron, was of only + 200 tons burden; The Golden Hind, Hayes' ship, which + returned safe, of 40; and The Squirrel (whereof more + hereafter), of 10 tons! In such cockboats did these old + heroes brave the unknown seas. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HOW BIDEFORD BRIDGE DINED AT ANNERY HOUSE + + “Three lords sat drinking late yestreen, + And ere they paid the lawing, + They set a combat them between, + To fight it in the dawing”--Scotch Ballad. + +Every one who knows Bideford cannot but know Bideford bridge; for it is +the very omphalos, cynosure, and soul, around which the town, as a body, +has organized itself; and as Edinburgh is Edinburgh by virtue of its +castle, Rome Rome by virtue of its capitol, and Egypt Egypt by virtue of +its pyramids, so is Bideford Bideford by virtue of its bridge. But all +do not know the occult powers which have advanced and animated the +said wondrous bridge for now five hundred years, and made it the chief +wonder, according to Prince and Fuller, of this fair land of Devon: +being first an inspired bridge, a soul-saving bridge, an alms-giving +bridge, an educational bridge, a sentient bridge, and last, but not +least, a dinner-giving bridge. All do not know how, when it began to +be built some half mile higher up, hands invisible carried the stones +down-stream each night to the present site; until Sir Richard Gurney, +parson of the parish, going to bed one night in sore perplexity and fear +of the evil spirit who seemed so busy in his sheepfold, beheld a vision +of an angel, who bade build the bridge where he himself had so kindly +transported the materials; for there alone was sure foundation amid the +broad sheet of shifting sand. All do not know how Bishop Grandison of +Exeter proclaimed throughout his diocese indulgences, benedictions, and +“participation in all spiritual blessings for ever,” to all who would +promote the bridging of that dangerous ford; and so, consulting alike +the interests of their souls and of their bodies, “make the best of both +worlds.” + +All do not know, nor do I, that “though the foundation of the bridge +is laid upon wool, yet it shakes at the slightest step of a horse;” or +that, “though it has twenty-three arches, yet one Wm. Alford (another +Milo) carried on his back for a wager four bushels salt-water measure, +all the length thereof;” or that the bridge is a veritable esquire, +bearing arms of its own (a ship and bridge proper on a plain field), +and owning lands and tenements in many parishes, with which the said +miraculous bridge has, from time to time, founded charities, built +schools, waged suits at law, and finally (for this concerns us most) +given yearly dinners, and kept for that purpose (luxurious and liquorish +bridge that it was) the best stocked cellar of wines in all Devon. + +To one of these dinners, as it happened, were invited in the year 1583 +all the notabilities of Bideford, and beside them Mr. St. Leger +of Annery close by, brother of the marshal of Munster, and of Lady +Grenville; a most worthy and hospitable gentleman, who, finding riches +a snare, parted with them so freely to all his neighbors as long as he +lived, that he effectually prevented his children after him from falling +into the temptations thereunto incident. + +Between him and one of the bridge trustees arose an argument, whether +a salmon caught below the bridge was better or worse than one caught +above; and as that weighty question could only be decided by practical +experiment, Mr. St. Leger vowed that as the bridge had given him a good +dinner, he would give the bridge one; offered a bet of five pounds that +he would find them, out of the pool below Annery, as firm and flaky a +salmon as the Appledore one which they had just eaten; and then, in the +fulness of his heart, invited the whole company present to dine with him +at Annery three days after, and bring with them each a wife or daughter; +and Don Guzman being at table, he was invited too. + +So there was a mighty feast in the great hall at Annery, such as had +seldom been since Judge Hankford feasted Edward the Fourth there; and +while every one was eating their best and drinking their worst, Rose +Salterne and Don Guzman were pretending not to see each other, and +watching each other all the more. But Rose, at least, had to be very +careful of her glances; for not only was her father at the table, but +just opposite her sat none other than Messrs. William Cary and Arthur +St. Leger, lieutenants in her majesty's Irish army, who had returned on +furlough a few days before. + +Rose Salterne and the Spaniard had not exchanged a word in the last six +months, though they had met many times. The Spaniard by no means avoided +her company, except in her father's house; he only took care to obey +her carefully, by seeming always unconscious of her presence, beyond the +stateliest of salutes at entering and departing. But he took care, at +the same time, to lay himself out to the very best advantage whenever +he was in her presence; to be more witty, more eloquent, more romantic, +more full of wonderful tales than he ever yet had been. The cunning +Don had found himself foiled in his first tactic; and he was now +trying another, and a far more formidable one. In the first place, Rose +deserved a very severe punishment, for having dared to refuse the love +of a Spanish nobleman; and what greater punishment could he inflict than +withdrawing the honor of his attentions, and the sunshine of his smiles? +There was conceit enough in that notion, but there was cunning too; +for none knew better than the Spaniard, that women, like the world, are +pretty sure to value a man (especially if there be any real worth in +him) at his own price; and that the more he demands for himself, the +more they will give for him. + +And now he would put a high price on himself, and pique her pride, as +she was too much accustomed to worship, to be won by flattering it. He +might have done that by paying attention to some one else: but he was +too wise to employ so coarse a method, which might raise indignation, or +disgust, or despair in Rose's heart, but would have never brought her to +his feet--as it will never bring any woman worth bringing. So he quietly +and unobtrusively showed her that he could do without her; and she, poor +fool, as she was meant to do, began forthwith to ask herself--why? What +was the hidden treasure, what was the reserve force, which made him +independent of her, while she could not say that she was independent of +him? Had he a secret? how pleasant to know it! Some huge ambition? how +pleasant to share in it! Some mysterious knowledge? how pleasant to +learn it! Some capacity of love beyond the common? how delicious to have +it all for her own! He must be greater, wiser, richer-hearted than she +was, as well as better-born. Ah, if his wealth would but supply her +poverty! And so, step by step, she was being led to sue in forma +pauperis to the very man whom she had spurned when he sued in like form +to her. That temptation of having some mysterious private treasure, of +being the priestess of some hidden sanctuary, and being able to thank +Heaven that she was not as other women are, was becoming fast too much +for Rose, as it is too much for most. For none knew better than the +Spaniard how much more fond women are, by the very law of their sex, +of worshipping than of being worshipped, and of obeying than of being +obeyed; how their coyness, often their scorn, is but a mask to hide +their consciousness of weakness; and a mask, too, of which they +themselves will often be the first to tire. + +And Rose was utterly tired of that same mask as she sat at table at +Annery that day; and Don Guzman saw it in her uneasy and downcast looks, +and thinking (conceited coxcomb) that she must be by now sufficiently +punished, stole a glance at her now and then, and was not abashed when +he saw that she dropped her eyes when they met his, because he saw her +silence and abstraction increase, and something like a blush steal into +her cheeks. So he pretended to be as much downcast and abstracted as she +was, and went on with his glances, till he once found her, poor thing, +looking at him to see if he was looking at her; and then he knew his +prey was safe, and asked her, with his eyes, “Do you forgive me?” and +saw her stop dead in her talk to her next neighbor, and falter, and drop +her eyes, and raise them again after a minute in search of his, that +he might repeat the pleasant question. And then what could she do but +answer with all her face and every bend of her pretty neck, “And do you +forgive me in turn?” + +Whereon Don Guzman broke out jubilant, like nightingale on bough, with +story, and jest, and repartee; and became forthwith the soul of the +whole company, and the most charming of all cavaliers. And poor Rose +knew that she was the cause of his sudden change of mood, and blamed +herself for what she had done, and shuddered and blushed at her own +delight, and longed that the feast was over, that she might hurry home +and hide herself alone with sweet fancies about a love the reality of +which she felt she dared not face. + +It was a beautiful sight, the great terrace at Annery that afternoon; +with the smart dames in their gaudy dresses parading up and down in twos +and threes before the stately house; or looking down upon the park, with +the old oaks, and the deer, and the broad land-locked river spread out +like a lake beneath, all bright in the glare of the midsummer sun; or +listening obsequiously to the two great ladies who did the honors, Mrs. +St. Leger the hostess, and her sister-in-law, fair Lady Grenville. All +chatted, and laughed, and eyed each other's dresses, and gossiped about +each other's husbands and servants: only Rose Salterne kept apart, and +longed to get into a corner and laugh or cry, she knew not which. + +“Our pretty Rose seems sad,” said Lady Grenville, coming up to her. +“Cheer up, child! we want you to come and sing to us.” + +Rose answered she knew not what, and obeyed mechanically. + +She took the lute, and sat down on a bench beneath the house, while the +rest grouped themselves round her. + +“What shall I sing?” + +“Let us have your old song, 'Earl Haldan's Daughter.'” + +Rose shrank from it. It was a loud and dashing ballad, which chimed in +but little with her thoughts; and Frank had praised it too, in happier +days long since gone by. She thought of him, and of others, and of her +pride and carelessness; and the song seemed ominous to her: and yet for +that very reason she dared not refuse to sing it, for fear of suspicion +where no one suspected; and so she began per force-- + + +I. + +“It was Earl Haldan's daughter, She look'd across the sea; She look'd +across the water, And long and loud laugh'd she; 'The locks of six +princesses Must be my marriage-fee, So hey bonny boat, and ho bonny +boat! Who comes a wooing me?' + +II. + +“It was Earl Haldan's daughter, She walk'd along the sand; When she was +aware of a knight so fair, Come sailing to the land. His sails were all +of velvet, His mast of beaten gold, And 'hey bonny boat, and ho bonny +boat, Who saileth here so bold?' + +III. + +“'The locks of five princesses I won beyond the sea; I shore their +golden tresses, To fringe a cloak for thee. One handful yet is wanting, +But one of all the tale; So hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat! Furl up +thy velvet sail!' + +IV. + +“He leapt into the water, That rover young and bold; He gript Earl +Haldan's daughter, He shore her locks of gold; 'Go weep, go weep, proud +maiden, The tale is full to-day. Now hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat! +Sail Westward-ho, and away!'” + + +As she ceased, a measured voice, with a foreign accent, thrilled through +her. + +“In the East, they say the nightingale sings to the rose; Devon, more +happy, has nightingale and rose in one.” + +“We have no nightingales in Devon, Don Guzman,” said Lady Grenville; +“but our little forest thrushes sing, as you hear, sweetly enough to +content any ear. But what brings you away from the gentlemen so early?” + +“These letters,” said he, “which have just been put into my hand; and +as they call me home to Spain, I was loath to lose a moment of that +delightful company from which I must part so soon.” + +“To Spain?” asked half-a-dozen voices: for the Don was a general +favorite. + +“Yes, and thence to the Indies. My ransom has arrived, and with it +the promise of an office. I am to be Governor of La Guayra in Caracas. +Congratulate me on my promotion.” + +A mist was over Rose's eyes. The Spaniard's voice was hard and flippant. +Did he care for her, after all? And if he did, was it nevertheless +hopeless? How her cheeks glowed! Everybody must see it! Anything to turn +away their attention from her, and in that nervous haste which makes +people speak, and speak foolishly too, just because they ought to be +silent, she asked-- + +“And where is La Guayra?” + +“Half round the world, on the coast of the Spanish Main. The loveliest +place on earth, and the loveliest governor's house, in a forest of palms +at the foot of a mountain eight thousand feet high: I shall only want a +wife there to be in paradise.” + +“I don't doubt that you may persuade some fair lady of Seville to +accompany you thither,” said Lady Grenville. + +“Thanks, gracious madam: but the truth is, that since I have had the +bliss of knowing English ladies, I have begun to think that they are the +only ones on earth worth wooing.” + +“A thousand thanks for the compliment; but I fear none of our free +English maidens would like to submit to the guardianship of a duenna. +Eh, Rose? how should you like to be kept under lock and key all day by +an ugly old woman with a horn on her forehead?” + +Poor Rose turned so scarlet that Lady Grenville knew her secret on the +spot, and would have tried to turn the conversation: but before she +could speak, some burgher's wife blundered out a commonplace about +the jealousy of Spanish husbands; and another, to make matters better, +giggled out something more true than delicate about West Indian masters +and fair slaves. + +“Ladies,” said Don Guzman, reddening, “believe me that these are but the +calumnies of ignorance. If we be more jealous than other nations, it is +because we love more passionately. If some of us abroad are profligate, +it is because they, poor men, have no helpmate, which, like the +amethyst, keeps its wearer pure. I could tell you stories, ladies, of +the constancy and devotion of Spanish husbands, even in the Indies, as +strange as ever romancer invented.” + +“Can you? Then we challenge you to give us one at least.” + +“I fear it would be too long, madam.” + +“The longer the more pleasant, senor. How can we spend an hour better +this afternoon, while the gentlemen within are finishing their wine?” + +Story-telling, in those old times, when books (and authors also, lucky +for the public) were rarer than now, was a common amusement; and as the +Spaniard's accomplishments in that line were well known, all the ladies +crowded round him; the servants brought chairs and benches; and Don +Guzman, taking his seat in the midst, with a proud humility, at Lady +Grenville's feet, began-- + +“Your perfections, fair and illustrious ladies, must doubtless have +heard, ere now, how Sebastian Cabota, some forty-five years ago, sailed +forth with a commission from my late master, the Emperor Charles the +Fifth, to discover the golden lands of Tarshish, Ophir, and Cipango; but +being in want of provisions, stopped short at the mouth of that mighty +South American river to which he gave the name of Rio de la Plata, and +sailing up it, discovered the fair land of Paraguay. But you may not +have heard how, on the bank of that river, at the mouth of the Rio +Terceiro, he built a fort which men still call Cabot's Tower; nor have +you, perhaps, heard of the strange tale which will ever make the tower a +sacred spot to all true lovers. + +“For when he returned to Spain the year after, he left in his tower a +garrison of a hundred and twenty men, under the command of Nuno de Lara, +Ruiz Moschera, and Sebastian da Hurtado, old friends and fellow-soldiers +of my invincible grandfather Don Ferdinando da Soto; and with them +a jewel, than which Spain never possessed one more precious, Lucia +Miranda, the wife of Hurtado, who, famed in the court of the emperor +no less for her wisdom and modesty than for her unrivalled beauty, +had thrown up all the pomp and ambition of a palace, to marry a poor +adventurer, and to encounter with him the hardships of a voyage round +the world. Mangora, the cacique of the neighboring Timbuez Indians (with +whom Lara had contrived to establish a friendship), cast his eyes on +this fair creature, and no sooner saw than he coveted; no sooner coveted +than he plotted, with the devilish subtilty of a savage, to seize by +force what he knew he could never gain by right. She soon found out his +passion (she was wise enough--what every woman is not--to know when she +is loved), and telling her husband, kept as much as she could out of her +new lover's sight; while the savage pressed Hurtado to come and visit +him, and to bring his lady with him. Hurtado, suspecting the snare, and +yet fearing to offend the cacique, excused himself courteously on +the score of his soldier's duty; and the savage, mad with desire and +disappointment, began plotting against Hurtado's life. + +“So went on several weeks, till food grew scarce, and Don Hurtado and +Don Ruiz Moschera, with fifty soldiers, were sent up the river on a +foraging party. Mangora saw his opportunity, and leapt at it forthwith. + +“The tower, ladies, as I have heard from those who have seen it, stands +on a knoll at the meeting of the two rivers, while on the land side +stretches a dreary marsh, covered with tall grass and bushes; a fit +place for the ambuscade of four thousand Indians, which Mangora, with +devilish cunning, placed around the tower, while he himself went boldly +up to it, followed by thirty men, laden with grain, fruit, game, and all +the delicacies which his forests could afford. + +“There, with a smiling face, he told the unsuspecting Lara his sorrow +for the Spaniards' want of food; besought him to accept the provision he +had brought, and was, as he had expected, invited by Lara to come in and +taste the wines of Spain. + +“In went he and his thirty fellow-bandits, and the feast continued, +with songs and libations, far into the night, while Mangora often looked +round, and at last boldly asked for the fair Miranda: but she had shut +herself into her lodging, pleading illness. + +“A plea, fair ladies, which little availed that hapless dame, for no +sooner had the Spaniards retired to rest, leaving (by I know not what +madness) Mangora and his Indians within, than they were awakened by the +cry of fire, the explosion of their magazine, and the inward rush of the +four thousand from the marsh outside. + +“Why pain your gentle ears with details of slaughter? A few fearful +minutes sufficed to exterminate my bewildered and unarmed countrymen, to +bind the only survivors, Miranda (innocent cause of the whole tragedy) +and four other women with their infants, and to lead them away in +triumph across the forest towards the Indian town. + +“Stunned by the suddenness of the evils which had passed, and still +more by the thought of those worse which were to come (as she too +well foresaw), Miranda travelled all night through the forest, and was +brought in triumph at day-dawn before the Indian king to receive her +doom. Judge of her astonishment, when, on looking up, she saw that he +was not Mangora. + +“A ray of hope flashed across her, and she asked where he was. + +“'He was slain last night,' said the king; 'and I, his brother Siripa, +am now cacique of the Timbuez.' + +“It was true; Lara, maddened with drink, rage, and wounds, had caught up +his sword, rushed into the thick of the fight, singled out the traitor, +and slain him on the spot; and then, forgetting safety in revenge, had +continued to plunge his sword into the corpse, heedless of the blows of +the savages, till he fell pierced with a hundred wounds. + +“A ray of hope, as I said, flashed across the wretched Miranda for a +moment; but the next she found that she had been freed from one bandit +only to be delivered to another. + +“'Yes,' said the new king, in broken Spanish; 'my brother played a bold +stake, and lost it; but it was well worth the risk, and he showed his +wisdom thereby. You cannot be his queen now: you must content yourself +with being mine.' + +“Miranda, desperate, answered him with every fierce taunt which she +could invent against his treachery and his crime; and asked him, how he +came to dream that the wife of a Christian Spaniard would condescend +to become the mistress of a heathen savage; hoping, unhappy lady, to +exasperate him into killing her on the spot. But in vain; she only +prolonged thereby her own misery. For, whether it was, ladies, that the +novel sight of divine virtue and beauty awed (as it may have awed me ere +now), where it had just before maddened; or whether some dream crossed +the savage (as it may have crossed me ere now), that he could make the +wisdom of a mortal angel help his ambition, as well as her beauty his +happiness; or whether (which I will never believe of one of those dark +children of the devil, though I can boldly assert it of myself) some +spark of boldness within him made him too proud to take by force what +he could not win by persuasion, certain it is, as the Indians themselves +confessed afterwards, that the savage only answered her by smiles; and +bidding his men unbind her, told her that she was no slave of his, and +that it only lay with her to become the sovereign of him and all +his vassals; assigned her a hut to herself, loaded her with savage +ornaments, and for several weeks treated her with no less courtesy +(so miraculous is the power of love) than if he had been a cavalier of +Castile. + +“Three months and more, ladies, as I have heard, passed in this misery, +and every day Miranda grew more desperate of all deliverance, and saw +staring her in the face, nearer and nearer, some hideous and shameful +end; when one day going down with the wives of the cacique to draw water +in the river, she saw on the opposite bank a white man in a tattered +Spanish dress, with a drawn sword in his hand; who had no sooner espied +her, than shrieking her name, he plunged into the stream, swam across, +landed at her feet, and clasped her in his arms. It was no other, +ladies, incredible as it may seem, than Don Sebastian himself, who had +returned with Ruiz Moschera to the tower, and found it only a charred +and bloodstained heap of ruins. + +“He guessed, as by inspiration, what had passed, and whither his lady +was gone; and without a thought of danger, like a true Spanish gentleman +and a true Spanish lover, darted off alone into the forest, and +guided only by the inspiration of his own loyal heart, found again his +treasure, and found it still unstained and his own. + +“Who can describe the joy, and who again the terror, of their meeting? +The Indian women had fled in fear, and for the short ten minutes that +the lovers were left together, life, to be sure, was one long kiss. +But what to do they knew not. To go inland was to rush into the enemy's +arms. He would have swum with her across the river, and attempted it; +but his strength, worn out with hunger and travel, failed him; he drew +her with difficulty on shore again, and sat down by her to await their +doom with prayer, the first and last resource of virtuous ladies, as +weapons are of cavaliers. + +“Alas for them! May no true lovers ever have to weep over joys so soon +lost, after having been so hardly found! For, ere a quarter of an hour +was passed, the Indian women, who had fled at his approach, returned +with all the warriors of the tribe. Don Sebastian, desperate, would +fain have slain his wife and himself on the spot; but his hand sank +again--and whose would not but an Indian's?--as he raised it against +that fair and faithful breast; in a few minutes he was surrounded, +seized from behind, disarmed, and carried in triumph into the village. +And if you cannot feel for him in that misery, fair ladies, who have +known no sorrow, yet I, a prisoner, can.” + +Don Guzman paused a moment, as if overcome by emotion; and I will not +say that, as he paused, he did not look to see if Rose Salterne's eyes +were on him, as indeed they were. + +“Yes, I can feel with him; I can estimate, better than you, ladies, the +greatness of that love which could submit to captivity; to the loss of +his sword; to the loss of that honor, which, next to god and his mother, +is the true Spaniard's deity. There are those who have suffered that +shame at the hands of valiant gentlemen” (and again Don Guzman looked +up at Rose), “and yet would have sooner died a thousand deaths; but he +dared to endure it from the hands of villains, savages, heathens; for he +was a true Spaniard, and therefore a true lover: but I will go on with +my tale. + +“This wretched pair, then, as I have been told by Ruiz Moschera himself, +stood together before the cacique. He, like a true child of the devil, +comprehending in a moment who Don Sebastian was, laughed with delight at +seeing his rival in his power, and bade bind him at once to a tree, and +shoot him to death with arrows. + +“But the poor Miranda sprang forward, and threw herself at his feet, and +with piteous entreaties besought for mercy from him who knew no mercy. + +“And yet love and the sight of her beauty, and the terrible eloquence of +her words, while she invoked on his head the just vengeance of Heaven, +wrought even on his heart: nevertheless the pleasure of seeing her, who +had so long scorned him, a suppliant at his feet, was too delicate to +be speedily foregone; and not till she was all but blind with tears, +and dumb with agony of pleading, did he make answer, that if she would +consent to become his wife, her husband's life should be spared. She, in +her haste and madness, sobbed out desperately I know not what consent. +Don Sebastian, who understood, if not the language, still the meaning +(so had love quickened his understanding), shrieked to her not to lose +her precious soul for the sake of his worthless body; that death was +nothing compared to the horror of that shame; and such other words as +became a noble and valiant gentleman. She, shuddering now at her own +frailty, would have recalled her promise; but Siripa kept her to it, +vowing, if she disappointed him again, such a death to her husband as +made her blood run cold to hear of; and the wretched woman could only +escape for the present by some story, that it was not the custom of her +race to celebrate nuptials till a month after the betrothment; that the +anger of Heaven would be on her, unless she first performed in solitude +certain religious rites; and lastly, that if he dared to lay hands +on her husband, she would die so resolutely, that every drop of water +should be deep enough to drown her, every thorn sharp enough to stab +her to the heart: till fearing lest by demanding too much he should lose +all, and awed too, as he had been at first by a voice and looks which +seemed to be, in comparison with his own, divine, Siripa bade her go +back to her hut, promising her husband life; but promising too, that +if he ever found the two speaking together, even for a moment, he would +pour out on them both all the cruelty of those tortures in which the +devil, their father, has so perfectly instructed the Indians. + +“So Don Sebastian, being stripped of his garments, and painted after +the Indian fashion, was set to all mean and toilsome work, amid the +buffetings and insults of the whole village. And this, ladies, he +endured without a murmur, ay, took delight in enduring it, as he would +have endured things worse a thousand times, only for the sake, like a +true lover as he was, of being near the goddess whom he worshipped, and +of seeing her now and then afar off, happy enough to be repaid even by +that for all indignities. + +“And yet, you who have loved may well guess, as I can, that ere a week +had passed, Don Sebastian and the Lady Miranda had found means, in spite +of all spiteful eyes, to speak to each other once and again; and to +assure each other of their love; even to talk of escape, before the +month's grace should be expired. And Miranda, whose heart was full of +courage as long as she felt her husband near her, went so far as to plan +a means of escape which seemed possible and hopeful. + +“For the youngest wife of the cacique, who, till Miranda's coming, +had been his favorite, often talked with the captive, insulting and +tormenting her in her spite and jealousy, and receiving in return only +gentle and conciliatory words. And one day when the woman had been +threatening to kill her, Miranda took courage to say, 'Do you fancy that +I shall not be as glad to be rid of your husband, as you to be rid of +me? Why kill me needlessly, when all that you require is to get me forth +of the place? Out of sight, out of mind. When I am gone, your husband +will soon forget me, and you will be his favorite as before.' Soon, +seeing that the girl was inclined to listen, she went on to tell her +of her love to Don Sebastian, entreating and adjuring her, by the love +which she bore the cacique, to pity and help her; and so won upon the +girl, that she consented to be privy to Miranda's escape, and even +offered to give her an opportunity of speaking to her husband about it; +and at last was so won over by Miranda, that she consented to keep all +intruders out of the way, while Don Sebastian that very night visited +Miranda in her hut. + +“The hapless husband, thirsting for his love, was in that hut, be sure, +the moment that kind darkness covered his steps:--and what cheer these +two made of each other, when they once found themselves together, +lovers must fancy for themselves: but so it was, that after many a +leave-taking, there was no departure; and when the night was well-nigh +past, Sebastian and Miranda were still talking together as if they had +never met before, and would never meet again. + +“But it befell, ladies (would that I was not speaking truth, but +inventing, that I might have invented something merrier for your ears), +it befell that very night, that the young wife of the cacique, whose +heart was lifted up with the thought that her rival was now at last +disposed of, tried all her wiles to win back her faithless husband; +but in vain. He only answered her caresses by indifference, then by +contempt, then insults, then blows (for with the Indians, woman is +always a slave, or rather a beast of burden), and went on to draw such +cruel comparisons between her dark skin and the glorious fairness of the +Spanish lady, that the wretched girl, beside herself with rage, burst +out at last with her own secret. 'Fool that you are to madden yourself +about a stranger who prizes one hair of her Spanish husband's head more +than your whole body! Much does your new bride care for you! She is at +this moment in her husband's arms!' + +“The cacique screamed furiously to know what she meant; and she, her +jealousy and hate of the guiltless lady boiling over once for all, bade +him, if he doubted her, go see for himself. + +“What use of many words? They were taken. Love, or rather lust, +repelled, turned in a moment into devilish hate; and the cacique, +summoning his Indians, bade them bind the wretched Don Sebastian to a +tree, and there inflicted on him the lingering death to which he had at +first been doomed. For Miranda he had more exquisite cruelty in store. +And shall I tell it? Yes, ladies, for the honor of love and of Spain, +and for a justification of those cruelties against the Indians which are +so falsely imputed to our most Christian nation, it shall be told: he +delivered the wretched lady over to the tender mercies of his wives; and +what they were is neither fit for me to tell, nor you to hear. + +“The two wretched lovers cast themselves upon each other's neck; drank +each other's salt tears with the last kisses; accused themselves as +the cause of each other's death; and then, rising above fear and grief, +broke out into triumph at thus dying for and with each other; and +proclaiming themselves the martyrs of love, commended their souls to +God, and then stepped joyfully and proudly to their doom.” + +“And what was that?” asked half-a-dozen trembling voices. + +“Don Sebastian, as I have said, was shot to death with arrows; but as +for the Lady Miranda, the wretches themselves confessed afterwards, when +they received due vengeance for their crimes (as they did receive it), +that after all shameful and horrible indignities, she was bound to +a tree, and there burned slowly in her husband's sight, stifling her +shrieks lest they should wring his heart by one additional pang, and +never taking her eyes, to the last, off that beloved face. And so died +(but not unavenged) Sebastian de Hurtado and Lucia Miranda,--a Spanish +husband and a Spanish wife.” + +The Don paused, and the ladies were silent awhile, for, indeed, there +was many a gentle tear to be dried; but at last Mrs. St. Leger spoke, +half, it seemed, to turn off the too painful impression of the over-true +tale, the outlines whereof may be still read in old Charlevoix. + +“You have told a sad and a noble tale, sir, and told it well; but, +though your story was to set forth a perfect husband, it has ended +rather by setting forth a perfect wife.” + +“And if I have forgotten, madam, in praising her to praise him also, +have I not done that which would have best pleased his heroical and +chivalrous spirit? He, be sure, would have forgotten his own virtue in +the light of hers; and he would have wished me, I doubt not, to do the +same also. And beside, madam, where ladies are the theme, who has time +or heart to cast one thought upon their slaves?” And the Don made one of +his deliberate and highly-finished bows. + +“Don Guzman is courtier enough, as far as compliments go,” said one of +the young ladies; “but it was hardly courtier-like of him to find us so +sad an entertainment, upon a merry evening.” + +“Yes,” said another; “we must ask him for no more stories.” + +“Or songs either,” said a third. “I fear he knows none but about +forsaken maidens and despairing lovers.” + +“I know nothing at all about forsaken ladies, madam; because ladies are +never forsaken in Spain.” + +“Nor about lovers despairing there, I suppose?” + +“That good opinion of ourselves, madam, with which you English are +pleased to twit us now and then, always prevents so sad a state of mind. +For myself, I have had little to do with love; but I have had still less +to do with despair, and intend, by help of Heaven, to have less.” + +“You are valiant, sir.” + +“You would not have me a coward, madam?” and so forth. + +Now all this time Don Guzman had been talking at Rose Salterne, and +giving her the very slightest hint, every now and then, that he was +talking at her; till the poor girl's face was almost crimson with +pleasure, and she gave herself up to the spell. He loved her still; +perhaps he knew that she loved him: he must know some day. She felt now +that there was no escape; she was almost glad to think that there was +none. + +The dark, handsome, stately face; the melodious voice, with its rich +Spanish accent; the quiet grace of the gestures; the wild pathos of +the story; even the measured and inflated style, as of one speaking of +another and a loftier world; the chivalrous respect and admiration for +woman, and for faithfulness to woman--what a man he was! If he had been +pleasant heretofore, he was now enchanting. All the ladies round felt +that, she could see, as much as she herself did; no, not quite as much, +she hoped. She surely understood him, and felt for his loneliness more +than any of them. Had she not been feeling for it through long and sad +months? But it was she whom he was thinking of, she whom he was speaking +to, all along. Oh, why had the tale ended so soon? She would gladly have +sat and wept her eyes out till midnight over one melodious misery after +another; but she was quite wise enough to keep her secret to herself; +and sat behind the rest, with greedy eyes and demure lips, full of +strange and new happiness--or misery; she knew not which to call it. + +In the meanwhile, as it was ordained, Cary could see and hear through +the window of the hall a good deal of what was going on. + +“How that Spanish crocodile ogles the Rose!” whispered he to young St. +Leger. + +“What wonder? He is not the first by many a one.” + +“Ay--but--By heaven, she is making side-shots at him with those +languishing eyes of hers, the little baggage!” + +“What wonder? He is not the first, say I, and won't be the last. Pass +the wine, man.” + +“I have had enough; between sack and singing, my head is as mazed as a +dizzy sheep. Let me slip out.” + +“Not yet, man; remember you are bound for one song more.” + +So Cary, against his will, sat and sang another song; and in the +meanwhile the party had broken up, and wandered away by twos and threes, +among trim gardens and pleasaunces, and clipped yew-walks-- + + Where west-winds with musky wing + About the cedarn alleys fling + Nard and cassia's balmy smells--” + +admiring the beauty of that stately place, long since passed into other +hands, and fallen to decay, but then (if old Prince speaks true) one of +the noblest mansions of the West. + +At last Cary got away and out; sober, but just enough flushed with wine +to be ready for any quarrel; and luckily for him, had not gone twenty +yards along the great terrace before he met Lady Grenville. + +“Has your ladyship seen Don Guzman?” + +“Yes--why, where is he? He was with me not ten minutes ago. You know he +is going back to Spain.” + +“Going! Has his ransom come?” + +“Yes, and with it a governorship in the Indies.” + +“Governorship! Much good may it do the governed.” + +“Why not, then? He is surely a most gallant gentleman.” + +“Gallant enough--yes,” said Cary, carelessly. “I must find him, and +congratulate him on his honors.” + +“I will help you to find him,” said Lady Grenville, whose woman's eye +and ear had already suspected something. “Escort me, sir.” + +“It is but too great an honor to squire the Queen of Bideford,” said +Cary, offering his hand. + +“If I am your queen, sir, I must be obeyed,” answered she, in a meaning +tone. Cary took the hint, and went on chattering cheerfully enough. + +But Don Guzman was not to be found in garden or in pleasaunce. + +“Perhaps,” at last said a burgher's wife, with a toss of her head, “your +ladyship may meet with him at Hankford's oak.” + +“At Hankford's oak! what should take him there?” + +“Pleasant company, I reckon” (with another toss). “I heard him and +Mistress Salterne talking about the oak just now.” + +Cary turned pale and drew in his breath. + +“Very likely,” said Lady Grenville, quietly. “Will you walk with me so +far, Mr. Cary?” + +“To the world's end, if your ladyship condescends so far.” And off they +went, Lady Grenville wishing that they were going anywhere else, but +afraid to let Cary go alone; and suspecting, too, that some one or other +ought to go. + +So they went down past the herds of deer, by a trim-kept path into +the lonely dell where stood the fatal oak; and, as they went, Lady +Grenville, to avoid more unpleasant talk, poured into Cary's unheeding +ears the story (which he probably had heard fifty times before) how old +Chief-justice Hankford (whom some contradictory myths make the man who +committed Prince Henry to prison for striking him on the bench), weary +of life and sickened at the horrors and desolations of the Wars of the +Roses, went down to his house at Annery there, and bade his keeper shoot +any man who, passing through the deer-park at night, should refuse to +stand when challenged; and then going down into that glen himself, and +hiding himself beneath that oak, met willingly by his keeper's hand the +death which his own dared not inflict: but ere the story was half done, +Cary grasped Lady Grenville's hand so tightly that she gave a little +shriek of pain. + +“There they are!” whispered he, heedless of her; and pointed to the oak, +where, half hidden by the tall fern, stood Rose and the Spaniard. + +Her head was on his bosom. She seemed sobbing, trembling; he talking +earnestly and passionately; but Lady Grenville's little shriek made them +both look up. To turn and try to escape was to confess all; and the +two, collecting themselves instantly, walked towards her, Rose wishing +herself fathoms deep beneath the earth. + +“Mind, sir,” whispered Lady Grenville as they came up; “you have seen +nothing.” + +“Madam?” + +“If you are not on my ground, you are on my brother's. Obey me!” + +Cary bit his lip, and bowed courteously to the Don. + +“I have to congratulate you, I hear, senor, on your approaching +departure.” + +“I kiss your hands, senor, in return; but I question whether it be a +matter of congratulation, considering all that I leave behind.” + +“So do I,” answered Cary, bluntly enough, and the four walked back to +the house, Lady Grenville taking everything for granted with the most +charming good humor, and chatting to her three silent companions +till they gained the terrace once more, and found four or five of +the gentlemen, with Sir Richard at their head, proceeding to the +bowling-green. + +Lady Grenville, in an agony of fear about the quarrel which she knew +must come, would have gladly whispered five words to her husband: but +she dared not do it before the Spaniard, and dreaded, too, a faint or +a scream from the Rose, whose father was of the party. So she walked +on with her fair prisoner, commanding Cary to escort them in, and the +Spaniard to go to the bowling-green. + +Cary obeyed: but he gave her the slip the moment she was inside the +door, and then darted off to the gentlemen. + +His heart was on fire: all his old passion for the Rose had flashed up +again at the sight of her with a lover;--and that lover a Spaniard! He +would cut his throat for him, if steel could do it! Only he recollected +that Salterne was there, and shrank from exposing Rose; and shrank, too, +as every gentleman should, from making a public quarrel in another man's +house. Never mind. Where there was a will there was a way. He could get +him into a corner, and quarrel with him privately about the cut of +his beard, or the color of his ribbon. So in he went; and, luckily or +unluckily, found standing together apart from the rest, Sir Richard, the +Don, and young St. Leger. + +“Well, Don Guzman, you have given us wine-bibbers the slip this +afternoon. I hope you have been well employed in the meanwhile?” + +“Delightfully to myself, senor,” said the Don, who, enraged at being +interrupted, if not discovered, was as ready to fight as Cary, but +disliked, of course, an explosion as much as he did; “and to others, I +doubt not.” + +“So the ladies say,” quoth St. Leger. “He has been making them all cry +with one of his stories, and robbing us meanwhile of the pleasure we had +hoped for from some of his Spanish songs.” + +“The devil take Spanish songs!” said Cary, in a low voice, but loud +enough for the Spaniard. Don Guzman clapt his hand on his sword-hilt +instantly. + +“Lieutenant Cary,” said Sir Richard, in a stern voice, “the wine has +surely made you forget yourself!” + +“As sober as yourself, most worshipful knight; but if you want a Spanish +song, here's one; and a very scurvy one it is, like its subject-- + + “Don Desperado + Walked on the Prado, + And there he met his enemy. + He pulled out a knife, a, + And let out his life, a, + And fled for his own across the sea.” + +And he bowed low to the Spaniard. + +The insult was too gross to require any spluttering. + +“Senor Cary, we meet?” + +“I thank your quick apprehension, Don Guzman Maria Magdalena Sotomayor +de Soto. When, where, and with what weapons?” + +“For God's sake, gentlemen! Nephew Arthur, Cary is your guest; do you +know the meaning of this?” + +St. Leger was silent. Cary answered for him. + +“An old Irish quarrel, I assure you, sir. A matter of years' standing. +In unlacing the senor's helmet, the evening that he was taken prisoner, +I was unlucky enough to twitch his mustachios. You recollect the fact, +of course, senor?” + +“Perfectly,” said the Spaniard; and then, half-amused and half-pleased, +in spite of his bitter wrath, at Cary's quickness and delicacy in +shielding Rose, he bowed, and-- + +“And it gives me much pleasure to find that he whom I trust to have the +pleasure of killing tomorrow morning is a gentleman whose nice sense of +honor renders him thoroughly worthy of the sword of a De Soto.” + +Cary bowed in return, while Sir Richard, who saw plainly enough that the +excuse was feigned, shrugged his shoulders. + +“What weapons, senor?” asked Will again. + +“I should have preferred a horse and pistols,” said Don Guzman after +a moment, half to himself, and in Spanish; “they make surer work of it +than bodkins; but” (with a sigh and one of his smiles) “beggars must not +be choosers.” + +“The best horse in my stable is at your service, senor,” said Sir +Richard Grenville, instantly. + +“And in mine also, senor,” said Cary; “and I shall be happy to allow you +a week to train him, if he does not answer at first to a Spanish hand.” + +“You forget in your courtesy, gentle sir, that the insult being with me, +the time lies with me also. We wipe it off to-morrow morning with simple +rapiers and daggers. Who is your second?” + +“Mr. Arthur St. Leger here, senor: who is yours?” + +The Spaniard felt himself alone in the world for one moment; and then +answered with another of his smiles,-- + +“Your nation possesses the soul of honor. He who fights an Englishman +needs no second.” + +“And he who fights among Englishmen will always find one,” said Sir +Richard. “I am the fittest second for my guest.” + +“You only add one more obligation, illustrious cavalier, to a two-years' +prodigality of favors, which I shall never be able to repay.” + +“But, Nephew Arthur,” said Grenville, “you cannot surely be second +against your father's guest, and your own uncle.” + +“I cannot help it, sir; I am bound by an oath, as Will can tell you. I +suppose you won't think it necessary to let me blood?” + +“You half deserve it, sirrah!” said Sir Richard, who was very angry: but +the Don interposed quickly. + +“Heaven forbid, senors! We are no French duellists, who are mad enough +to make four or six lives answer for the sins of two. This gentleman +and I have quarrel enough between us, I suspect, to make a right bloody +encounter.” + +“The dependence is good enough, sir,” said Cary, licking his sinful +lips at the thought. “Very well. Rapiers and shirts at three tomorrow +morning--Is that the bill of fare? Ask Sir Richard where, Atty? It is +against punctilio now for me to speak to him till after I am killed.” + +“On the sands opposite. The tide will be out at three. And now, gallant +gentlemen, let us join the bowlers.” + +And so they went back and spent a merry evening, all except poor Rose, +who, ere she went back, had poured all her sorrows into Lady Grenville's +ear. For the kind woman, knowing that she was motherless and guileless, +carried her off into Mrs. St. Leger's chamber, and there entreated her +to tell the truth, and heaped her with pity but with no comfort. For +indeed, what comfort was there to give? + + * * * * * + +Three o'clock, upon a still pure bright midsummer morning. A broad +and yellow sheet of ribbed tide-sands, through which the shallow river +wanders from one hill-foot to the other, whispering round dark knolls +of rock, and under low tree-fringed cliffs, and banks of golden broom. +A mile below, the long bridge and the white walled town, all sleeping +pearly in the soft haze, beneath a cloudless vault of blue. The +white glare of dawn, which last night hung high in the northwest, has +travelled now to the northeast, and above the wooded wall of the hills +the sky is flushing with rose and amber. + +A long line of gulls goes wailing up inland; the rooks from Annery come +cawing and sporting round the corner at Landcross, while high above them +four or five herons flap solemnly along to find their breakfast on the +shallows. The pheasants and partridges are clucking merrily in the long +wet grass; every copse and hedgerow rings with the voice of birds, but +the lark, who has been singing since midnight in the “blank height of +the dark,” suddenly hushes his carol and drops headlong among the corn, +as a broad-winged buzzard swings from some wooded peak into the abyss of +the valley, and hangs high-poised above the heavenward songster. The air +is full of perfume; sweet clover, new-mown hay, the fragrant breath of +kine, the dainty scent of sea-weed wreaths and fresh wet sand. Glorious +day, glorious place, “bridal of earth and sky,” decked well with bridal +garlands, bridal perfumes, bridal songs,--What do those four cloaked +figures there by the river brink, a dark spot on the fair face of the +summer morn? + +Yet one is as cheerful as if he too, like all nature round him, were +going to a wedding; and that is Will Cary. He has been bathing down +below, to cool his brain and steady his hand; and he intends to stop Don +Guzman Maria Magdalena Sotomayor de Soto's wooing for ever and a day. +The Spaniard is in a very different mood; fierce and haggard, he is +pacing up and down the sand. He intends to kill Will Cary; but then? +Will he be the nearer to Rose by doing so? Can he stay in Bideford? +Will she go with him? Shall he stoop to stain his family by marrying a +burgher's daughter? It is a confused, all but desperate business; and +Don Guzman is certain but of one thing, that he is madly in love with +this fair witch, and that if she refuse him, then, rather than see her +accept another man, he would kill her with his own hands. + +Sir Richard Grenville too is in no very pleasant humor, as St. Leger +soon discovers, when the two seconds begin whispering over their +arrangements. + +“We cannot have either of them killed, Arthur.” + +“Mr. Cary swears he will kill the Spaniard, sir.” + +“He sha'n't. The Spaniard is my guest. I am answerable for him to Leigh, +and for his ransom too. And how can Leigh accept the ransom if the man +is not given up safe and sound? They won't pay for a dead carcass, boy! +The man's life is worth two hundred pounds.” + +“A very bad bargain, sir, for those who pay the said two hundred for +the rascal; but what if he kills Cary?” + +“Worse still. Cary must not be killed. I am very angry with him, but he +is too good a lad to be lost; and his father would never forgive us. We +must strike up their swords at the first scratch.” + +“It will make them very mad, sir.” + +“Hang them! let them fight us then, if they don't like our counsel. It +must be, Arthur.” + +“Be sure, sir,” said Arthur, “that whatsoever you shall command I shall +perform. It is only too great an honor to a young man as I am to find +myself in the same duel with your worship, and to have the advantage of +your wisdom and experience.” + +Sir Richard smiles, and says--“Now, gentlemen! are you ready?” + +The Spaniard pulls out a little crucifix, and kisses it devoutly, +smiting on his breast; crosses himself two or three times, and +says--“Most willingly, senor.” + +Cary kisses no crucifix, but says a prayer nevertheless. + +Cloaks and doublets are tossed off, the men placed, the rapiers measured +hilt and point; Sir Richard and St. Leger place themselves right and +left of the combatants, facing each other, the points of their drawn +swords on the sand. Cary and the Spaniard stand for a moment quite +upright, their sword-arms stretched straight before them, holding the +long rapier horizontally, the left hand clutching the dagger close to +their breasts. So they stand eye to eye, with clenched teeth and pale +crushed lips, while men might count a score; St. Leger can hear the +beating of his own heart; Sir Richard is praying inwardly that no life +may be lost. Suddenly there is a quick turn of Cary's wrist and a leap +forward. The Spaniard's dagger flashes, and the rapier is turned aside; +Cary springs six feet back as the Spaniard rushes on him in turn. Parry, +thrust, parry--the steel rattles, the sparks fly, the men breathe fierce +and loud; the devil's game is begun in earnest. + +Five minutes have the two had instant death a short six inches off from +those wild sinful hearts of theirs, and not a scratch has been given. +Yes! the Spaniard's rapier passes under Cary's left arm; he bleeds. + +“A hit! a hit! Strike up, Atty!” and the swords are struck up instantly. + +Cary, nettled by the smart, tries to close with his foe, but the seconds +cross their swords before him. + +“It is enough, gentlemen. Don Guzman's honor is satisfied!” + +“But not my revenge, senor,” says the Spaniard, with a frown. “This duel +is a l'outrance, on my part; and, I believe, on Mr. Cary's also.” + +“By heaven, it is!” says Will, trying to push past. “Let me go, Arthur +St. Leger; one of us must down. Let me go, I say!” + +“If you stir, Mr. Cary, you have to do with Richard Grenville!” thunders +the lion voice. “I am angry enough with you for having brought on this +duel at all. Don't provoke me still further, young hot-head!” + +Cary stops sulkily. + +“You do not know all, Sir Richard, or you would not speak in this way.” + +“I do, sir, all; and I shall have the honor of talking it over with Don +Guzman myself.” + +“Hey!” said the Spaniard. “You came here as my second, Sir Richard, as I +understood, but not as my counsellor.” + +“Arthur, take your man away! Cary! obey me as you would your father, +sir! Can you not trust Richard Grenville?” + +“Come away, for God's sake!” says poor Arthur, dragging Cary's sword +from him; “Sir Richard must know best!” + +So Cary is led off sulking, and Sir Richard turns to the Spaniard, + +“And now, Don Guzman, allow me, though much against my will, to speak to +you as a friend to a friend. You will pardon me if I say that I cannot +but have seen last night's devotion to--” + +“You will be pleased, senor, not to mention the name of any lady to whom +I may have shown devotion. I am not accustomed to have my little affairs +talked over by any unbidden counsellors.” + +“Well, senor, if you take offence, you take that which is not given. +Only I warn you, with all apologies for any seeming forwardness, that +the quest on which you seem to be is one on which you will not be +allowed to proceed.” + +“And who will stop me?” asked the Spaniard, with a fierce oath. + +“You are not aware, illustrious senor,” said Sir Richard, parrying the +question, “that our English laity look upon mixed marriages with full as +much dislike as your own ecclesiastics.” + +“Marriage, sir? Who gave you leave to mention that word to me?” + +Sir Richard's brow darkened; the Spaniard, in his insane pride, had +forced upon the good knight a suspicion which was not really just. + +“Is it possible, then, Senor Don Guzman, that I am to have the shame of +mentioning a baser word?” + +“Mention what you will, sir. All words are the same to me; for, just or +unjust, I shall answer them alike only by my sword.” + +“You will do no such thing, sir. You forget that I am your host.” + +“And do you suppose that you have therefore a right to insult me? Stand +on your guard, sir!” + +Grenville answered by slapping his own rapier home into the sheath with +a quiet smile. + +“Senor Don Guzman must be well enough aware of who Richard Grenville is, +to know that he may claim the right of refusing duel to any man, if he +shall so think fit.” + +“Sir!” cried the Spaniard, with an oath, “this is too much! Do you dare +to hint that I am unworthy of your sword? Know, insolent Englishman, I +am not merely a De Soto, though that, by St. James, were enough for you +or any man. I am a Sotomayor, a Mendoza, a Bovadilla, a Losada, a--sir! +I have blood royal in my veins, and you dare to refuse my challenge?” + +“Richard Grenville can show quarterings, probably, against even Don +Guzman Maria Magdalena Sotomayor de Soto, or against (with no offence to +the unquestioned nobility of your pedigree) the bluest blood of Spain. +But he can show, moreover, thank God, a reputation which raises him +as much above the imputation of cowardice, as it does above that of +discourtesy. If you think fit, senor, to forget what you have just, in +very excusable anger, vented, and to return with me, you will find me +still, as ever, your most faithful servant and host. If otherwise, you +have only to name whither you wish your mails to be sent, and I shall, +with unfeigned sorrow, obey your commands concerning them.” + +The Spaniard bowed stiffly, answered, “To the nearest tavern, senor,” + and then strode away. His baggage was sent thither. He took a boat down +to Appledore that very afternoon, and vanished, none knew whither. A +very courteous note to Lady Grenville, enclosing the jewel which he had +been used to wear round his neck, was the only memorial he left behind +him: except, indeed, the scar on Cary's arm, and poor Rose's broken +heart. + +Now county towns are scandalous places at best; and though all parties +tried to keep the duel secret, yet, of course, before noon all Bideford +knew what had happened, and a great deal more; and what was even worse, +Rose, in an agony of terror, had seen Sir Richard Grenville enter her +father's private room, and sit there closeted with him for an hour and +more; and when he went, upstairs came old Salterne, with his stick in +his hand, and after rating her soundly for far worse than a flirt, gave +her (I am sorry to have to say it, but such was the mild fashion of +paternal rule in those times, even over such daughters as Lady Jane +Grey, if Roger Ascham is to be believed) such a beating that her poor +sides were black and blue for many a day; and then putting her on a +pillion behind him, carried her off twenty miles to her old prison at +Stow mill, commanding her aunt to tame down her saucy blood with bread +of affliction and water of affliction. Which commands were willingly +enough fulfilled by the old dame, who had always borne a grudge against +Rose for being rich while she was poor, and pretty while her daughter +was plain; so that between flouts, and sneers, and watchings, and pretty +open hints that she was a disgrace to her family, and no better than she +should be, the poor innocent child watered her couch with her tears for +a fortnight or more, stretching out her hands to the wide Atlantic, and +calling wildly to Don Guzman to return and take her where he would, and +she would live for him and die for him; and perhaps she did not call in +vain. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +HOW THE GOLDEN HIND CAME HOME AGAIN + + “The spirits of your fathers + Shall start from every wave; + For the deck it was their field of fame, + And ocean was their grave.” + + CAMPBELL. + +“So you see, my dear Mrs. Hawkins, having the silver, as your own eyes +show you, beside the ores of lead, manganese, and copper, and above all +this gossan (as the Cornish call it), which I suspect to be not merely +the matrix of the ore, but also the very crude form and materia prima +of all metals--you mark me?--If my recipes, which I had from Doctor Dee, +succeed only half so well as I expect, then I refine out the luna, the +silver, lay it by, and transmute the remaining ores into sol, gold. +Whereupon Peru and Mexico become superfluities, and England the mistress +of the globe. Strange, no doubt; distant, no doubt: but possible, my +dear madam, possible!” + +“And what good to you if it be, Mr. Gilbert? If you could find a +philosopher's stone to turn sinners into saints, now--but naught save +God's grace can do that; and that last seems ofttimes over long in +coming.” And Mrs. Hawkins sighed. + +“But indeed, my dear madam, conceive now.--The Comb Martin mine thus +becomes a gold mine, perhaps inexhaustible; yields me wherewithal to +carry out my North-West patent; meanwhile my brother Humphrey holds +Newfoundland, and builds me fresh ships year by year (for the forests of +pine are boundless) for my China voyage.” + +“Sir Humphrey has better thoughts in his dear heart than gold, Mr. +Adrian; a very close and gracious walker he has been this seven year. I +wish my Captain John were so too.” + +“And how do you know I have naught better in my mind's eye than gold? +Or, indeed, what better could I have? Is not gold the Spaniard's +strength--the very mainspring of Antichrist? By gold only, therefore, +can we out-wrestle him. You shake your head, but say, dear madam (for +gold England must have), which is better, to make gold bloodlessly at +home, or take it bloodily abroad?” + +“Oh, Mr. Gilbert, Mr. Gilbert! is it not written, that those who make +haste to be rich, pierce themselves through with many sorrows? Oh, Mr. +Gilbert! God's blessing is not on it all.” + +“Not on you, madam? Be sure that brave Captain John Hawkins's star +told me a different tale, when I cast his nativity for him.--Born under +stormy planets, truly, but under right royal and fortunate ones.” + +“Ah, Mr. Adrian! I am a simple body, and you a great philosopher, but +I hold there is no star for the seaman like the Star of Bethlehem; and +that goes with 'peace on earth and good will to men,' and not with such +arms as that, Mr. Adrian. I can't abide to look upon them.” + +And she pointed up to one of the bosses of the ribbed oak-roof, on which +was emblazoned the fatal crest which Clarencieux Hervey had granted +years before to her husband, the “Demi-Moor proper, bound.” + +“Ah, Mr. Gilbert! since first he went to Guinea after those poor +negroes, little lightness has my heart known; and the very day that that +crest was put up in our grand new house, as the parson read the first +lesson, there was this text in it, Mr. Gilbert, 'Woe to him that +buildeth his house by iniquity, and his chambers by wrong. Shalt thou +live because thou closest thyself in cedar?' And it went into my ears +like fire, Mr. Gilbert, and into my heart like lead; and when the parson +went on, 'Did not thy father eat and drink, and do judgment and justice? +Then it was well with him,' I thought of good old Captain Will; and--I +tell you, Mr. Gilbert, those negroes are on my soul from morning until +night! We are all mighty grand now, and money comes in fast, but the +Lord will require the blood of them at our hands yet, He will!” + +“My dearest madam, who can prosper more than you? If your husband copied +the Dons too closely once or twice in the matter of those negroes (which +I do not deny,) was he not punished at once when he lost ships, men, all +but life, at St. Juan d'Ulloa?” + +“Ay, yes,” she said; “and that did give me a bit of comfort, especially +when the queen--God save her tender heart!--was so sharp with him for +pity of the poor wretches, but it has not mended him. He is growing fast +like the rest now, Mr. Gilbert, greedy to win, and niggardly to spend +(God forgive him!) and always fretting and plotting for some new gain, +and envying and grudging at Drake, and all who are deeper in the +snare of prosperity than he is. Gold, gold, nothing but gold in +every mouth--there it is! Ah! I mind when Plymouth was a quiet little +God-fearing place as God could smile upon: but ever since my John, and +Sir Francis, and poor Mr. Oxenham found out the way to the Indies, it's +been a sad place. Not a sailor's wife but is crying 'Give, give,' like +the daughters of the horse-leech; and every woman must drive her +husband out across seas to bring her home money to squander on hoods and +farthingales, and go mincing with outstretched necks and wanton eyes; +and they will soon learn to do worse than that, for the sake of gain. +But the Lord's hand will be against their tires and crisping-pins, their +mufflers and farthingales, as it was against the Jews of old. Ah, dear +me!” + +The two interlocutors in this dialogue were sitting in a low +oak-panelled room in Plymouth town, handsomely enough furnished, adorned +with carving and gilding and coats of arms, and noteworthy for many +strange knickknacks, Spanish gold and silver vessels on the sideboard; +strange birds and skins, and charts and rough drawings of coast which +hung about the room; while over the fireplace, above the portrait of old +Captain Will Hawkins, pet of Henry the Eighth, hung the Spanish ensign +which Captain John had taken in fair fight at Rio de la Hacha fifteen +years before, when, with two hundred men, he seized the town in despite +of ten hundred Spanish soldiers, and watered his ship triumphantly at +the enemy's wells. + +The gentleman was a tall fair man, with a broad and lofty forehead, +wrinkled with study, and eyes weakened by long poring over the crucible +and the furnace. + +The lady had once been comely enough, but she was aged and worn, as +sailors' wives are apt to be, by many sorrows. Many a sad day had she +had already; for although John Hawkins, port-admiral of Plymouth, and +patriarch of British shipbuilders, was a faithful husband enough, and +as ready to forgive as he was to quarrel, yet he was obstinate and +ruthless, and in spite of his religiosity (for all men were religious +then) was by no means a “consistent walker.” + +And sadder days were in store for her, poor soul. Nine years hence she +would be asked to name her son's brave new ship, and would christen it +The Repentance, giving no reason in her quiet steadfast way (so says +her son Sir Richard) but that “Repentance was the best ship in which +we could sail to the harbor of heaven;” and she would hear that Queen +Elizabeth, complaining of the name for an unlucky one, had re-christened +her The Dainty, not without some by-quip, perhaps, at the character +of her most dainty captain, Richard Hawkins, the complete seaman and +Euphuist afloat, of whom, perhaps, more hereafter. + +With sad eyes Mrs. (then Lady) Hawkins would see that gallant bark sail +Westward-ho, to go the world around, as many another ship sailed; and +then wait, as many a mother beside had waited, for the sail which never +returned; till, dim and uncertain, came tidings of her boy fighting for +four days three great Armadas (for the coxcomb had his father's heart in +him after all), a prisoner, wounded, ruined, languishing for weary years +in Spanish prisons. And a sadder day than that was in store, when a +gallant fleet should round the Ram Head, not with drum and trumpet, but +with solemn minute-guns, and all flags half-mast high, to tell her +that her terrible husband's work was done, his terrible heart broken by +failure and fatigue, and his body laid by Drake's beneath the far-off +tropic seas. + +And if, at the close of her eventful life, one gleam of sunshine opened +for a while, when her boy Richard returned to her bosom from his Spanish +prison, to be knighted for his valor, and made a privy councillor for +his wisdom; yet soon, how soon, was the old cloud to close in again +above her, until her weary eyes should open in the light of Paradise. +For that son dropped dead, some say at the very council-table, leaving +behind him naught but broken fortunes, and huge purposes which never +were fulfilled; and the stormy star of that bold race was set forever, +and Lady Hawkins bowed her weary head and died, the groan of those +stolen negroes ringing in her ears, having lived long enough to see her +husband's youthful sin become a national institution, and a national +curse for generations yet unborn. + +I know not why she opened her heart that night to Adrian Gilbert, with +a frankness which she would hardly have dared to use to her own family. +Perhaps it was that Adrian, like his great brothers, Humphrey and +Raleigh, was a man full of all lofty and delicate enthusiasms, tender +and poetical, such as women cling to when their hearts are lonely; but +so it was; and Adrian, half ashamed of his own ambitious dreams, sate +looking at her a while in silence; and then-- + +“The Lord be with you, dearest lady. Strange, how you women sit at home +to love and suffer, while we men rush forth to break our hearts and +yours against rocks of our own seeking! Ah well! were it not for +Scripture, I should have thought that Adam, rather than Eve, had been +the one who plucked the fruit of the forbidden tree.” + +“We women, I fear; did the deed nevertheless; for we bear the doom of it +our lives long.” + +“You always remind me, madam, of my dear Mrs. Leigh of Burrough, and her +counsels.” + +“Do you see her often? I hear of her as one of the Lord's most precious +vessels.” + +“I would have done more ere now than see her,” said he with a blush, +“had she allowed me: but she lives only for the memory of her husband +and the fame of her noble sons.” + +As he spoke the door opened, and in walked, wrapped in his rough +sea-gown, none other than one of those said noble sons. + +Adrian turned pale. + +“Amyas Leigh! What brings you hither? how fares my brother? Where is the +ship?” + +“Your brother is well, Mr. Gilbert. The Golden Hind is gone on to +Dartmouth, with Mr. Hayes. I came ashore here, meaning to go north to +Bideford, ere I went to London. I called at Drake's just now, but he was +away.” + +“The Golden Hind? What brings her home so soon?” + +“Yet welcome ever, sir,” said Mrs. Hawkins. “This is a great surprise, +though. Captain John did not look for you till next year.” + +Amyas was silent. + +“Something is wrong!” cried Adrian. “Speak!” + +Amyas tried, but could not. + +“Will you drive a man mad, sir? Has the adventure failed? You said my +brother was well.” + +“He is well.” + +“Then what--Why do you look at me in that fashion, sir?” and springing +up, Adrian rushed forward, and held the candle to Amyas's face. + +Amyas's lip quivered, as he laid his hand on Adrian's shoulder. + +“Your great and glorious brother, sir, is better bestowed than in +settling Newfoundland.” + +“Dead?” shrieked Adrian. + +“He is with the God whom he served!” + +“He was always with Him, like Enoch: parable me no parables, if you love +me, sir!” + +“And, like Enoch, he was not; for God took him.” + +Adrian clasped his hands over his forehead, and leaned against the +table. + +“Go on, sir, go on. God will give me strength to hear all.” + +And gradually Amyas opened to Adrian that tragic story, which Mr. Hayes +has long ago told far too well to allow a second edition of it from me: +of the unruliness of the men, ruffians, as I said before, caught up at +hap-hazard; of conspiracies to carry off the ships, plunder of fishing +vessels, desertions multiplying daily; licenses from the general to the +lazy and fearful to return home: till Adrian broke out with a groan-- + +“From him? Conspired against him? Deserted from him? Dotards, buzzards! +Where would they have found such another leader?” + +“Your illustrious brother, sir,” said Amyas, “if you will pardon me, was +a very great philosopher, but not so much of a general.” + +“General, sir? Where was braver man?” + +“Not on God's earth, but that does not make a general, sir. If Cortez +had been brave and no more, Mexico would have been Mexico still. The +truth is, sir, Cortez, like my Captain Drake, knew when to hang a man; +and your great brother did not.” + +Amyas, as I suppose, was right. Gilbert was a man who could be angry +enough at baseness or neglect, but who was too kindly to punish it; he +was one who could form the wisest and best-digested plans, but who could +not stoop to that hail-fellow-well-met drudgery among his subordinates +which has been the talisman of great captains. + +Then Amyas went on to tell the rest of his story; the setting sail from +St. John's to discover the southward coast; Sir Humphrey's chivalrous +determination to go in the little Squirrel of only ten tons, and +“overcharged with nettings, fights, and small ordnance,” not only +because she was more fit to examine the creeks, but because he had heard +of some taunt against him among the men, that he was afraid of the sea. + +After that, woe on woe; how, seven days after they left Cape Raz, their +largest ship, the Delight, after she had “most part of the night” (I +quote Hayes), “like the swan that singeth before her death, continued in +sounding of trumpets, drums, and fifes, also winding of the comets and +hautboys, and, in the end of their jollity, left off with the battle and +doleful knells,” struck the next day (the Golden Hind and the Squirrel +sheering off just in time) upon unknown shoals; where were lost all but +fourteen, and among them Frank's philosopher friend, poor Budaeus; and +those who escaped, after all horrors of cold and famine, were cast on +shore in Newfoundland. How, worn out with hunger and want of clothes, +the crews of the two remaining ships persuaded Sir Humphrey to sail +toward England on the 31st of August; and on “that very instant, even in +winding about,” beheld close alongside “a very lion in shape, hair, and +color, not swimming, but sliding on the water, with his whole body; who +passed along, turning his head to and fro, yawning and gaping wide, +with ugly demonstration of long teeth and glaring eyes; and to bid us +farewell (coming right against the Hind) he sent forth a horrible voice, +roaring or bellowing as doth a lion.” “What opinion others had thereof, +and chiefly the general himself, I forbear to deliver; but he took it +for bonum omen, rejoicing that he was to war against such an enemy, if +it were the devil.” + +“And the devil it was, doubtless,” said Adrian, “the roaring lion who +goes about seeking whom he may devour.” + +“He has not got your brother, at least,” quoth Amyas. + +“No,” rejoined Mrs. Hawkins (smile not, reader, for those were days in +which men believed in the devil); “he roared for joy to think how many +poor souls would be left still in heathen darkness by Sir Humphrey's +death. God be with that good knight, and send all mariners where he is +now!” + +Then Amyas told the last scene; how, when they were off the Azores, the +storms came on heavier than ever, with “terrible seas, breaking short +and pyramid-wise,” till, on the 9th September, the tiny Squirrel nearly +foundered and yet recovered; “and the general, sitting abaft with a +book in his hand, cried out to us in the Hind so oft as we did approach +within hearing, 'We are as near heaven by sea as by land,' reiterating +the same speech, well beseeming a soldier resolute in Jesus Christ, as I +can testify he was. + +“The same Monday, about twelve of the clock, or not long after, the +frigate (the Squirrel) being ahead of us in the Golden Hind, suddenly +her lights were out; and withal our watch cried, the general was cast +away, which was true; for in that moment the frigate was devoured and +swallowed up of the sea.” + +And so ended (I have used Hayes' own words) Amyas Leigh's story. + +“Oh, my brother! my brother!” moaned poor Adrian; “the glory of his +house, the glory of Devon!” + +“Ah! what will the queen say?” asked Mrs. Hawkins through her tears. + +“Tell me,” asked Adrian, “had he the jewel on when he died?” + +“The queen's jewel? He always wore that, and his own posy too, 'Mutare +vel timere sperno.' He wore it; and he lived it.” + +“Ay,” said Adrian, “the same to the last!” + +“Not quite that,” said Amyas. “He was a meeker man latterly than he used +to be. As he said himself once, a better refiner than any whom he had on +board had followed him close all the seas over, and purified him in the +fire. And gold seven times tried he was, when God, having done His work +in him, took him home at last.” + +And so the talk ended. There was no doubt that the expedition had +been an utter failure; Adrian was a ruined man; and Amyas had lost his +venture. + +Adrian rose, and begged leave to retire; he must collect himself. + +“Poor gentleman!” said Mrs. Hawkins; “it is little else he has left to +collect.” + +“Or I either,” said Amyas. “I was going to ask you to lend me one of +your son's shirts, and five pounds to get myself and my men home.” + +“Five? Fifty, Mr. Leigh! God forbid that John Hawkins's wife should +refuse her last penny to a distressed mariner, and he a gentleman born. +But you must eat and drink.” + +“It's more than I have done for many a day worth speaking of.” + +And Amyas sat down in his rags to a good supper, while Mrs. Hawkins told +him all the news which she could of his mother, whom Adrian Gilbert had +seen a few months before in London; and then went on, naturally enough, +to the Bideford news. + +“And by the by, Captain Leigh, I've sad news for you from your place; +and I had it from one who was there at the time. You must know a Spanish +captain, a prisoner--” + +“What, the one I sent home from Smerwick?” + +“You sent? Mercy on us! Then, perhaps, you've heard--” + +“How can I have heard? What?” + +“That he's gone off, the villain?” + +“Without paying his ransom?” + +“I can't say that; but there's a poor innocent young maid gone off with +him, one Salterne's daughter--the Popish serpent!” + +“Rose Salterne, the mayor's daughter, the Rose of Torridge!” + +“That's her. Bless your dear soul, what ails you?” + +Amyas had dropped back in his seat as if he had been shot; but he +recovered himself before kind Mrs. Hawkins could rush to the cupboard +for cordials. + +“You'll forgive me, madam; but I'm weak from the sea; and your good ale +has turned me a bit dizzy, I think.” + +“Ay, yes, 'tis too, too heavy, till you've been on shore a while. Try +the aqua vitae; my Captain John has it right good; and a bit too fond of +it too, poor dear soul, between whiles, Heaven forgive him!” + +So she poured some strong brandy and water down Amyas's throat, in spite +of his refusals, and sent him to bed, but not to sleep; and after a +night of tossing, he started for Bideford, having obtained the means for +so doing from Mrs. Hawkins. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HOW SALVATION YEO SLEW THE KING OF THE GUBBINGS + + “Ignorance and evil, even in full flight, deal terrible backhanded + strokes at their pursuers.”--HELPS. + +Now I am sorry to say, for the honor of my country, that it was by no +means a safe thing in those days to travel from Plymouth to the north of +Devon; because, to get to your journey's end, unless you were minded to +make a circuit of many miles, you must needs pass through the territory +of a foreign and hostile potentate, who had many times ravaged the +dominions, and defeated the forces of her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, and +was named (behind his back at least) the King of the Gubbings. “So now +I dare call them,” says Fuller, “secured by distance, which one of more +valor durst not do to their face, for fear their fury fall upon him. Yet +hitherto have I met with none who could render a reason of their name. +We call the shavings of fish (which are little worth) gubbings; and sure +it is that they are sensible that the word importeth shame and disgrace. + +“As for the suggestion of my worthy and learned friend, Mr. Joseph +Maynard, that such as did inhabitare montes gibberosos, were called +Gubbings, such will smile at the ingenuity who dissent from the truth of +the etymology. + +“I have read of an England beyond Wales, but the Gubbings land is a +Scythia within England, and they pure heathens therein. It lieth nigh +Brent. For in the edge of Dartmoor it is reported that, some two hundred +years since, two bad women, being with child, fled thither to hide +themselves; to whom certain lewd fellows resorted, and this was their +first original. They are a peculiar of their own making, exempt from +bishop, archdeacon, and all authority, either ecclesiastical or civil. +They live in cots (rather holes than houses) like swine, having all in +common, multiplied without marriage into many hundreds. Their language +is the dross of the dregs of the vulgar Devonian; and the more learned +a man is, the worse he can understand them. During our civil wars no +soldiers were quartered upon them, for fear of being quartered amongst +them. Their wealth consisteth in other men's goods; they live by +stealing the sheep on the moors; and vain is it for any to search their +houses, being a work beneath the pains of any sheriff, and above the +power of any constable. Such is their fleetness, they will outrun many +horses; vivaciousness, they outlive most men; living in an ignorance of +luxury, the extinguisher of life. They hold together like bees; offend +one, and all will revenge his quarrel. + +“But now I am informed that they begin to be civilized, and tender their +children to baptism, and return to be men, yea, Christians again. I hope +no CIVIL people amongst us will turn barbarians, now these barbarians +begin to be civilized.” * + + * Fuller, p. 398. + +With which quip against the Anabaptists of his day, Fuller ends his +story; and I leave him to set forth how Amyas, in fear of these same +Scythians and heathens, rode out of Plymouth on a right good horse, in +his full suit of armor, carrying lance and sword, and over and above two +great dags, or horse-pistols; and behind him Salvation Yeo, and five +or six north Devon men (who had served with him in Ireland, and were +returning on furlough), clad in head-pieces and quilted jerkins, each +man with his pike and sword, and Yeo with arquebuse and match, while two +sumpter ponies carried the baggage of this formidable troop. + +They pushed on as fast as they could, through Tavistock, to reach before +nightfall Lydford, where they meant to sleep; but what with buying the +horses, and other delays, they had not been able to start before +noon; and night fell just as they reached the frontiers of the enemy's +country. A dreary place enough it was, by the wild glare of sunset. A +high tableland of heath, banked on the right by the crags and hills of +Dartmoor, and sloping away to the south and west toward the foot of the +great cone of Brent-Tor, which towered up like an extinct volcano (as +some say that it really is), crowned with the tiny church, the votive +offering of some Plymouth merchant of old times, who vowed in sore +distress to build a church to the Blessed Virgin on the first point of +English land which he should see. Far away, down those waste slopes, +they could see the tiny threads of blue smoke rising from the dens of +the Gubbings; and more than once they called a halt, to examine whether +distant furze-bushes and ponies might not be the patrols of an advancing +army. It is all very well to laugh at it now, in the nineteenth century, +but it was no laughing matter then; as they found before they had gone +two miles farther. + +On the middle of the down stood a wayside inn; a desolate and +villainous-looking lump of lichen-spotted granite, with windows +paper-patched, and rotting thatch kept down by stones and straw-banks; +and at the back a rambling court-ledge of barns and walls, around which +pigs and barefoot children grunted in loving communion of dirt. At the +door, rapt apparently in the contemplation of the mountain peaks which +glowed rich orange in the last lingering sun-rays, but really watching +which way the sheep on the moor were taking, stood the innkeeper, a +brawny, sodden-visaged, blear-eyed six feet of brutishness, holding up +his hose with one hand, for want of points, and clawing with the other +his elf-locks, on which a fair sprinkling of feathers might denote: +first, that he was just out of bed, having been out sheep-stealing +all the night before; and secondly, that by natural genius he had +anticipated the opinion of that great apostle of sluttishness, +Fridericus Dedekind, and his faithful disciple Dekker, which last speaks +thus to all gulls and grobians: “Consider that as those trees of cobweb +lawn, woven by spinners in the fresh May mornings, do dress the curled +heads of the mountains, and adorn the swelling bosoms of the valleys; or +as those snowy fleeces, which the naked briar steals from the innocent +sheep to make himself a warm winter livery, are, to either of them +both, an excellent ornament; so make thou account, that to have feathers +sticking here and there on thy head will embellish thee, and set thy +crown out rarely. None dare upbraid thee, that like a beggar thou hast +lain on straw, or like a travelling pedlar upon musty flocks; for those +feathers will rise up as witnesses to choke him that says so, and to +prove thy bed to have been of the softest down.” Even so did those +feathers bear witness that the possessor of Rogues' Harbor Inn, on +Brent-Tor Down, whatever else he lacked, lacked not geese enough to keep +him in soft lying. + +Presently he spies Amyas and his party coming slowly over the hill, +pricks up his ears, and counts them; sees Amyas's armor; shakes his head +and grunts; and then, being a man of few words, utters a sleepy howl-- + +“Mirooi!--Fushing pooale!” + +A strapping lass--whose only covering (for country women at work in +those days dispensed with the ornament of a gown) is a green bodice and +red petticoat, neither of them over ample--brings out his fishing-rod +and basket, and the man, having tied up his hose with some ends of +string, examines the footlink. + +“Don vlies' gone!” + +“May be,” says Mary; “shouldn't hay' left mun out to coort. May be old +hen's ate mun off. I see her chocking about a while agone.” + +The host receives this intelligence with an oath, and replies by a +violent blow at Mary's head, which she, accustomed to such slight +matters, dodges, and then returns the blow with good effect on the shock +head. + +Whereon mine host, equally accustomed to such slight matters, quietly +shambles off, howling as he departs-- + +“Tell Patrico!” + +Mary runs in, combs her hair, slips a pair of stockings and her best +gown over her dirt, and awaits the coming guests, who make a few long +faces at the “mucksy sort of a place,” but prefer to spend the night +there than to bivouac close to the enemy's camp. + +So the old hen who has swallowed the dun fly is killed, plucked, and +roasted, and certain “black Dartmoor mutton” is put on the gridiron, and +being compelled to confess the truth by that fiery torment, proclaims +itself to all noses as red-deer venison. In the meanwhile Amyas has put +his horse and the ponies into a shed, to which he can find neither +lock nor key, and therefore returns grumbling, not without fear for his +steed's safety. The baggage is heaped in a corner of the room, and Amyas +stretches his legs before a turf fire; while Yeo, who has his notions +about the place, posts himself at the door, and the men are seized with +a desire to superintend the cooking, probably to be attributed to the +fact that Mary is cook. + +Presently Yeo comes in again. + +“There's a gentleman just coming up, sir, all alone.” + +“Ask him to make one of our party, then, with my compliments.” Yeo goes +out, and returns in five minutes. + +“Please, sir, he's gone in back ways, by the court.” + +“Well, he has an odd taste, if he makes himself at home here.” + +Out goes Yeo again, and comes back once more after five minutes, in high +excitement. + +“Come out, sir; for goodness' sake come out. I've got him. Safe as a rat +in a trap, I have!” + +“Who?” + +“A Jesuit, sir.” + +“Nonsense, man!” + +“I tell you truth, sir. I went round the house, for I didn't like the +looks of him as he came up. I knew he was one of them villains the +minute he came up, by the way he turned in his toes, and put down his +feet so still and careful, like as if he was afraid of offending God at +every step. So I just put my eye between the wall and the dern of the +gate, and I saw him come up to the back door and knock, and call 'Mary!' +quite still, like any Jesuit; and the wench flies out to him ready to +eat him; and 'Go away,' I heard her say, 'there's a dear man;' and then +something about a 'queer cuffin' (that's a justice in these canters' +thieves' Latin); and with that he takes out a somewhat--I'll swear it +was one of those Popish Agnuses--and gives it her; and she kisses it, +and crosses herself, and asks him if that's the right way, and then puts +it into her bosom, and he says, 'Bless you, my daughter;' and then I was +sure of the dog: and he slips quite still to the stable, and peeps in, +and when he sees no one there, in he goes, and out I go, and shut to the +door, and back a cart that was there up against it, and call out one of +the men to watch the stable, and the girl's crying like mad.” + +“What a fool's trick, man! How do you know that he is not some honest +gentleman, after all?” + +“Fool or none, sir; honest gentlemen don't give maidens Agnuses. I've +put him in; and if you want him let out again, you must come and do it +yourself, for my conscience is against it, sir. If the Lord's enemies +are delivered into my hand, I'm answerable, sir,” went on Yeo as Amyas +hurried out with him. “'Tis written, 'If any let one of them go, his +life shall be for the life of him.'” + +So Amyas ran out, pulled back the cart grumbling, opened the door, and +began a string of apologies to--his cousin Eustace. + +Yes, here he was, with such a countenance, half foolish, half venomous, +as reynard wears when the last spadeful of earth is thrown back, and +he is revealed sitting disconsolately on his tail within a yard of the +terriers' noses. + +Neither cousin spoke for a minute or two. At last Amyas-- + +“Well, cousin hide-and-seek, how long have you added horse-stealing to +your other trades?” + +“My dear Amyas,” said Eustace, very meekly, “I may surely go into an inn +stable without intending to steal what is in it.” + +“Of course, old fellow,” said Amyas, mollified, “I was only in jest. But +what brings you here? Not prudence, certainly.” + +“I am bound to know no prudence save for the Lord's work.” + +“That's giving away Agnus Deis, and deceiving poor heathen wenches, I +suppose,” said Yeo. + +Eustace answered pretty roundly-- + +“Heathens? Yes, truly; you Protestants leave these poor wretches +heathens, and then insult and persecute those who, with a devotion +unknown to you, labor at the danger of their lives to make them +Christians. Mr. Amyas Leigh, you can give me up to be hanged at Exeter, +if it shall so please you to disgrace your own family; but from this +spot neither you, no, nor all the myrmidons of your queen, shall drive +me, while there is a soul here left unsaved.” + +“Come out of the stable, at least,” said Amyas; “you don't want to make +the horses Papists, as well as the asses, do you? Come out, man, and go +to the devil your own way. I sha'n't inform against you; and Yeo here +will hold his tongue if I tell him, I know.” + +“It goes sorely against my conscience, sir; but being that he is your +cousin, of course--” + +“Of course; and now come in and eat with me; supper's just ready, and +bygones shall be bygones, if you will have them so.” + +How much forgiveness Eustace felt in his heart, I know not: but he knew, +of course, that he ought to forgive; and to go in and eat with Amyas was +to perform an act of forgiveness, and for the best of motives, too, for +by it the cause of the Church might be furthered; and acts and motives +being correct, what more was needed? So in he went; and yet he never +forgot that scar upon his cheek; and Amyas could not look him in the +face but Eustace must fancy that his eyes were on the scar, and peep +up from under his lids to see if there was any smile of triumph on that +honest visage. They talked away over the venison, guardedly enough at +first; but as they went on, Amyas's straightforward kindliness warmed +poor Eustace's frozen heart; and ere they were aware, they found +themselves talking over old haunts and old passages of their +boyhood--uncles, aunts, and cousins; and Eustace, without any sinister +intention, asked Amyas why he was going to Bideford, while Frank and his +mother were in London. + +“To tell you the truth, I cannot rest till I have heard the whole story +about poor Rose Salterne.” + +“What about her?” cried Eustace. + +“Do you not know?” + +“How should I know anything here? For heaven's sake, what has happened?” + +Amyas told him, wondering at his eagerness, for he had never had the +least suspicion of Eustace's love. + +Eustace shrieked aloud. + +“Fool, fool that I have been! Caught in my own trap! Villain, villain +that he is! After all he promised me at Lundy!” + +And springing up, Eustace stamped up and down the room, gnashing +his teeth, tossing his head from side to side, and clutching with +outstretched hands at the empty air, with the horrible gesture (Heaven +grant that no reader has ever witnessed it!) of that despair which still +seeks blindly for the object which it knows is lost forever. + +Amyas sat thunderstruck. His first impulse was to ask, “Lundy? What +knew you of him? What had he or you to do at Lundy?” but pity conquered +curiosity. + +“Oh, Eustace! And you then loved her too?” + +“Don't speak to me! Loved her? Yes, sir, and had as good a right to love +her as any one of your precious Brotherhood of the Rose. Don't speak to +me, I say, or I shall do you a mischief!” + +So Eustace knew of the brotherhood too! Amyas longed to ask him how; but +what use in that? If he knew it, he knew it; and what harm? So he only +answered: + +“My good cousin, why be wroth with me? If you really love her, now is +the time to take counsel with me how best we shall--” + +Eustace did not let him finish his sentence. Conscious that he had +betrayed himself upon more points than one, he stopped short in his +walk, suddenly collected himself by one great effort, and eyed Amyas +from underneath his brows with the old down look. + +“How best we shall do what, my valiant cousin?” said he, in a meaning +and half-scornful voice. “What does your most chivalrous Brotherhood of +the Rose purpose in such a case?” + +Amyas, a little nettled, stood on his guard in return, and answered +bluntly-- + +“What the Brotherhood of the Rose will do, I can't yet say. What it +ought to do, I have a pretty sure guess.” + +“So have I. To hunt her down as you would an outlaw, because forsooth +she has dared to love a Catholic; to murder her lover in her arms, and +drag her home again stained with his blood, to be forced by threats and +persecution to renounce that Church into whose maternal bosom she has +doubtless long since found rest and holiness!” + +“If she has found holiness, it matters little to me where she has found +it, Master Eustace, but that is the very point that I should be glad to +know for certain.” + +“And you will go and discover for yourself?” + +“Have you no wish to discover it also?” + +“And if I had, what would that be to you?” + +“Only,” said Amyas, trying hard to keep his temper, “that, if we had the +same purpose, we might sail in the same ship.” + +“You intend to sail, then?” + +“I mean simply, that we might work together.” + +“Our paths lie on very different roads, sir!” + +“I am afraid you never spoke a truer word, sir. In the meanwhile, ere we +part, be so kind as to tell me what you meant by saying that you had met +this Spaniard at Lundy?” + +“I shall refuse to answer that.” + +“You will please to recollect, Eustace, that however good friends we +have been for the last half-hour, you are in my power. I have a right to +know the bottom of this matter; and, by heaven, I will know it.” + +“In your power? See that you are not in mine! Remember, sir, that you +are within a--within a few miles, at least, of those who will obey me, +their Catholic benefactor, but who owe no allegiance to those Protestant +authorities who have left them to the lot of the beasts which perish.” + +Amyas was very angry. He wanted but little more to make him catch +Eustace by the shoulders, shake the life out of him, and deliver him +into the tender guardianship of Yeo; but he knew that to take him at +all was to bring certain death on him, and disgrace on the family; and +remembering Frank's conduct on that memorable night at Clovelly, he kept +himself down. + +“Take me,” said Eustace, “if you will, sir. You, who complain of us that +we keep no faith with heretics, will perhaps recollect that you asked me +into this room as your guest, and that in your good faith I trusted when +I entered it.” + +The argument was a worthless one in law; for Eustace had been a prisoner +before he was a guest, and Amyas was guilty of something very like +misprision of treason in not handing him over to the nearest justice. +However, all he did was, to go to the door, open it, and bowing to his +cousin, bid him walk out and go to the devil, since he seemed to have +set his mind on ending his days in the company of that personage. + +Whereon Eustace vanished. + +“Pooh!” said Amyas to himself, “I can find out enough, and too much, I +fear, without the help of such crooked vermin. I must see Cary; I must +see Salterne; and I suppose, if I am ready to do my duty, I shall learn +somehow what it is. Now to sleep; to-morrow up and away to what God +sends.” + +“Come in hither, men,” shouted he down the passage, “and sleep here. +Haven't you had enough of this villainous sour cider?” + +The men came in yawning, and settled themselves to sleep on the floor. + +“Where's Yeo?” + +No one knew; he had gone out to say his prayers, and had not returned. + +“Never mind,” said Amyas, who suspected some plot on the old man's part. +“He'll take care of himself, I'll warrant him.” + +“No fear of that, sir;” and the four tars were soon snoring in concert +round the fire, while Amyas laid himself on the settle, with his saddle +for a pillow. + + * * * * * + + +It was about midnight, when Amyas leaped to his feet, or rather fell +upon his back, upsetting saddle, settle, and finally, table, under the +notion that ten thousand flying dragons were bursting in the window +close to his ear, with howls most fierce and fell. The flying dragons +past, however, being only a flock of terror-stricken geese, which flew +flapping and screaming round the corner of the house; but the noise +which had startled them did not pass; and another minute made it evident +that a sharp fight was going on in the courtyard, and that Yeo was +hallooing lustily for help. + +Out turned the men, sword in hand, burst the back door open, stumbling +over pails and pitchers, and into the courtyard, where Yeo, his back +against the stable-door, was holding his own manfully with sword and +buckler against a dozen men. + +Dire and manifold was the screaming; geese screamed, chickens screamed, +pigs screamed, donkeys screamed, Mary screamed from an upper window; +and to complete the chorus, a flock of plovers, attracted by the noise, +wheeled round and round overhead, and added their screams also to that +Dutch concert. + +The screaming went on, but the fight ceased; for, as Amyas rushed into +the yard, the whole party of ruffians took to their heels, and vanished +over a low hedge at the other end of the yard. + +“Are you hurt, Yeo?” + +“Not a scratch, thank Heaven! But I've got two of them, the ringleaders, +I have. One of them's against the wall. Your horse did for t'other.” + +The wounded man was lifted up; a huge ruffian, nearly as big as Amyas +himself. Yeo's sword had passed through his body. He groaned and choked +for breath. + +“Carry him indoors. Where is the other?” + +“Dead as a herring, in the straw. Have a care, men, have a care how you +go in! the horses are near mad!” + +However, the man was brought out after a while. With him all was over. +They could feel neither pulse nor breath. + +“Carry him in too, poor wretch. And now, Yeo, what is the meaning of all +this?” + +Yeo's story was soon told. He could not get out of his Puritan head the +notion (quite unfounded, of course) that Eustace had meant to steal +the horses. He had seen the inn-keeper sneak off at their approach; and +expecting some night-attack, he had taken up his lodging for the night +in the stable. + +As he expected, an attempt was made. The door was opened (how, he could +not guess, for he had fastened it inside), and two fellows came in, and +began to loose the beasts. Yeo's account was, that he seized the big +fellow, who drew a knife on him, and broke loose; the horses, terrified +at the scuffle, kicked right and left; one man fell, and the other +ran out, calling for help, with Yeo at his heels; “Whereon,” said +Yeo, “seeing a dozen more on me with clubs and bows, I thought best to +shorten the number while I could, ran the rascal through, and stood on +my ward; and only just in time I was, what's more; there's two arrows in +the house wall, and two or three more in my buckler, which I caught up +as I went out, for I had hung it close by the door, you see, sir, to be +all ready in case,” said the cunning old Philistine-slayer, as they went +in after the wounded man. + +But hardly had they stumbled through the low doorway into the +back-kitchen when a fresh hubbub arose inside--more shouts for help. +Amyas ran forward breaking his head against the doorway, and beheld, as +soon as he could see for the flashes in his eyes, an old acquaintance, +held on each side by a sturdy sailor. + +With one arm in the sleeve of his doublet, and the other in a not over +spotless shirt; holding up his hose with one hand, and with the other +a candle, whereby he had lighted himself to his own confusion; foaming +with rage, stood Mr. Evan Morgans, alias Father Parsons, looking, +between his confused habiliments and his fiery visage (as Yeo told him +to his face), “the very moral of a half-plucked turkey-cock.” And behind +him, dressed, stood Eustace Leigh. + +“We found the maid letting these here two out by the front door,” said +one of the captors. + +“Well, Mr. Parsons,” said Amyas; “and what are you about here? A pretty +nest of thieves and Jesuits we seem to have routed out this evening.” + +“About my calling, sir,” said Parsons, stoutly. “By your leave, I +shall prepare this my wounded lamb for that account to which your man's +cruelty has untimely sent him.” + +The wounded man, who lay upon the floor, heard Parsons' voice, and +moaned for the “Patrico.” + +“You see, sir,” said he, pompously, “the sheep know their shepherd's +voice.” + +“The wolves you mean, you hypocritical scoundrel!” said Amyas, who could +not contain his disgust. “Let the fellow truss up his points, lads, and +do his work. After all, the man is dying.” + +“The requisite matters, sir, are not at hand,” said Parsons, unabashed. + +“Eustace, go and fetch his matters for him; you seem to be in all his +plots.” + +Eustace went silently and sullenly. + +“What's that fresh noise at the back, now?” + +“The maid, sir, a wailing over her uncle; the fellow that we saw sneak +away when we came up. It was him the horse killed.” + +It was true. The wretched host had slipped off on their approach, simply +to call the neighboring outlaws to the spoil; and he had been filled +with the fruit of his own devices. + +“His blood be on his own head,” said Amyas. + +“I question, sir,” said Yeo, in a low voice, “whether some of it will +not be on the heads of those proud prelates who go clothed in purple +and fine linen, instead of going forth to convert such as he, and then +wonder how these Jesuits get hold of them. If they give place to the +devil in their sheepfolds, sure he'll come in and lodge there. Look, +sir, there's a sight in a gospel land!” + +And, indeed, the sight was curious enough. For Parsons was kneeling by +the side of the dying man, listening earnestly to the confession which +the man sobbed out in his gibberish, between the spasms of his wounded +chest. Now and then Parsons shook his head; and when Eustace returned +with the holy wafer, and the oil for extreme unction, he asked him, in a +low voice, “Ballard, interpret for me.” + +And Eustace knelt down on the other side of the sufferer, and +interpreted his thieves' dialect into Latin; and the dying man held +a hand of each, and turned first to one and then to the other stupid +eyes,--not without affection, though, and gratitude. + +“I can't stand this mummery any longer,” said Yeo. “Here's a soul +perishing before my eyes, and it's on my conscience to speak a word in +season.” + +“Silence!” whispered Amyas, holding him back by the arm; “he knows them, +and he don't know you; they are the first who ever spoke to him as if +he had a soul to be saved, and first come, first served; you can do no +good. See, the man's face is brightening already.” + +“But, sir, 'tis a false peace.” + +“At all events he is confessing his sins, Yeo; and if that's not good +for him, and you, and me, what is?” + +“Yea, Amen! sir; but this is not to the right person.” + +“How do you know his words will not go to the right person, after all, +though he may not send them there? By heaven! the man is dead!” + +It was so. The dark catalogue of brutal deeds had been gasped out; but +ere the words of absolution could follow, the head had fallen back, and +all was over. + +“Confession in extremis is sufficient,” said Parsons to Eustace +(“Ballard,” as Parsons called him, to Amyas's surprise), as he rose. “As +for the rest, the intention will be accepted instead of the act.” + +“The Lord have mercy on his soul!” said Eustace. + +“His soul is lost before our very eyes,” said Yeo. + +“Mind your own business,” said Amyas. + +“Humph; but I'll tell you, sir, what our business is, if you'll step +aside with me. I find that poor fellow that lies dead is none other than +the leader of the Gubbings; the king of them, as they dare to call him.” + +“Well, what of that?” + +“Mark my words, sir, if we have not a hundred stout rogues upon us +before two hours are out; forgive us they never will; and if we get off +with our lives, which I don't much expect, we shall leave our horses +behind; for we can hold the house, sir, well enough till morning, but +the courtyard we can't, that's certain!” + +“We had better march at once, then.” + +“Think, sir; if they catch us up--as they are sure to do, knowing the +country better than we--how will our shot stand their arrows?” + +“True, old wisdom; we must keep the road; and we must keep together; and +so be a mark for them, while they will be behind every rock and bank; +and two or three flights of arrows will do our business for us. Humph! +stay, I have a plan.” And stepping forward he spoke-- + +“Eustace, you will be so kind as to go back to your lambs; and tell +them, that if they meddle with us cruel wolves again to-night, we are +ready and willing to fight to the death, and have plenty of shot and +powder at their service. Father Parsons, you will be so kind as to +accompany us; it is but fitting that the shepherd should be hostage for +his sheep.” + +“If you carry me off this spot, sir, you carry my corpse only,” said +Parsons. “I may as well die here as be hanged elsewhere, like my +martyred brother Campian.” + +“If you take him, you must take me too,” said Eustace. + +“What if we won't?” + +“How will you gain by that? you can only leave me here. You cannot make +me go to the Gubbings, if I do not choose.” + +Amyas uttered sotto voce an anathema on Jesuits, Gubbings, and things in +general. He was in a great hurry to get to Bideford, and he feared that +this business would delay him, as it was, a day or two. He wanted to +hang Parsons, he did not want to hang Eustace; and Eustace, he knew, +was well aware of that latter fact, and played his game accordingly; but +time ran on, and he had to answer sulkily enough: + +“Well then; if you, Eustace, will go and give my message to your +converts, I will promise to set Mr. Parsons free again before we come to +Lydford town; and I advise you, if you have any regard for his life, +to see that your eloquence be persuasive enough; for as sure as I am +an Englishman, and he none, if the Gubbings attack us, the first +bullet that I shall fire at them will have gone through his scoundrelly +brains.” + +Parsons still kicked. + +“Very well, then, my merry men all. Tie this gentleman's hands behind +his back, get the horses out, and we'll right away up into Dartmoor, +find a good high tor, stand our ground there till morning, and then +carry him into Okehampton to the nearest justice. If he chooses to delay +me in my journey, it is fair that I should make him pay for it.” + +Whereon Parsons gave in, and being fast tied by his arm to Amyas's +saddle, trudged alongside his horse for several weary miles, while Yeo +walked by his side, like a friar by a condemned criminal; and in order +to keep up his spirits, told him the woful end of Nicholas Saunders the +Legate, and how he was found starved to death in a bog. + +“And if you wish, sir, to follow in his blessed steps, which I heartily +hope you will do, you have only to go over that big cow-backed hill +there on your right hand, and down again the other side to Crawmere +pool, and there you'll find as pretty a bog to die in as ever Jesuit +needed; and your ghost may sit there on a grass tummock, and tell your +beads without any one asking for you till the day of judgment; and much +good may it do you!” + +At which imagination Yeo was actually heard, for the first and last time +in this history, to laugh most heartily. + +His ho-ho's had scarcely died away when they saw shining under the moon +the old tower of Lydford castle. + +“Cast the fellow off now,” said Amyas. + +“Ay, ay, sir!” and Yeo and Simon Evans stopped behind, and did not come +up for ten minutes after. + +“What have you been about so long?” + +“Why, sir,” said Evans, “you see the man had a very fair pair of hose +on, and a bran-new kersey doublet, very warm-lined; and so, thinking it +a pity good clothes should be wasted on such noxious trade, we've just +brought them along with us.” + +“Spoiling the Egyptians,” said Yeo as comment. + +“And what have you done with the man?” + +“Hove him over the bank, sir; he pitched into a big furze-bush, and for +aught I know, there he'll bide.” + +“You rascal, have you killed him? + +“Never fear, sir,” said Yeo, in his cool fashion. “A Jesuit has as many +lives as a cat, and, I believe, rides broomsticks post, like a witch. He +would be at Lydford now before us, if his master Satan had any business +for him there.” + +Leaving on their left Lydford and its ill-omened castle (which, a +century after, was one of the principal scenes of Judge Jeffreys's +cruelty), Amyas and his party trudged on through the mire toward +Okehampton till sunrise; and ere the vapors had lifted from the mountain +tops, they were descending the long slopes from Sourton down, while +Yestor and Amicombe slept steep and black beneath their misty pall; and +roaring far below unseen, + + “Ockment leapt from crag and cloud + Down her cataracts, laughing loud.” + +The voice of the stream recalled these words to Amyas's mind. The nymph +of Torridge had spoken them upon the day of his triumph. He recollected, +too, his vexation on that day at not seeing Rose Salterne. Why, he had +never seen her since. Never seen her now for six years and more! Of her +ripened beauty he knew only by hearsay; she was still to him the lovely +fifteen years' girl for whose sake he had smitten the Barnstaple draper +over the quay. What a chain of petty accidents had kept them from +meeting, though so often within a mile of each other! “And what a lucky +one!” said practical old Amyas to himself. “If I had seen her as she is +now, I might have loved her as Frank does--poor Frank! what will he +say? What does he say, for he must know it already? And what ought I to +say--to do rather, for talking is no use on this side the grave, nor on +the other either, I expect!” And then he asked himself whether his old +oath meant nothing or something; whether it was a mere tavern frolic, or +a sacred duty. And he held, the more that he looked at it, that it meant +the latter. + +But what could he do? He had nothing on earth but his sword, so he could +not travel to find her. After all, she might not be gone far. Perhaps +not gone at all. It might be a mistake, an exaggerated scandal. He +would hope so. And yet it was evident that there had been some passages +between her and Don Guzman. Eustace's mysterious words about the promise +at Lundy proved that. The villain! He had felt all along that he was a +villain; but just the one to win a woman's heart, too. Frank had been +away--all the Brotherhood away. What a fool he had been, to turn the +wolf loose into the sheepfold! And yet who would have dreamed of +it? . . . + +“At all events,” said Amyas, trying to comfort himself, “I need not +complain. I have lost nothing. I stood no more chance of her against +Frank than I should have stood against the Don. So there is no use for +me to cry about the matter.” And he tried to hum a tune concerning the +general frailty of women, but nevertheless, like Sir Hugh, felt that “he +had a great disposition to cry.” + +He never had expected to win her, and yet it seemed bitter to know that +she was lost to him forever. It was not so easy for a heart of his make +to toss away the image of a first love; and all the less easy because +that image was stained and ruined. + +“Curses on the man who had done that deed! I will yet have his heart's +blood somehow, if I go round the world again to find him. If there's no +law for it on earth, there's law in heaven, or I'm much mistaken.” + +With which determination he rode into the ugly, dirty, and stupid town +of Okehampton, with which fallen man (by some strange perversity) has +chosen to defile one of the loveliest sites in the pleasant land of +Devon. And heartily did Amyas abuse the old town that day; for he was +detained there, as he expected, full three hours, while the Justice +Shallow of the place was sent for from his farm (whither he had gone +at sunrise, after the early-rising fashion of those days) to take Yeo's +deposition concerning last night's affray. Moreover, when Shallow came, +he refused to take the depositions, because they ought to have been made +before a brother Shallow at Lydford; and in the wrangling which ensued, +was very near finding out what Amyas (fearing fresh loss of time and +worse evils beside) had commanded to be concealed, namely, the presence +of Jesuits in that Moorland Utopia. Then, in broadest Devon-- + +“And do you call this Christian conduct, sir, to set a quiet man like me +upon they Gubbings, as if I was going to risk my precious life--no, nor +ever a constable to Okehampton neither? Let Lydfor' men mind Lydfor' +roogs, and by Lydfor' law if they will, hang first and try after; but +as for me, I've rade my Bible, and 'He that meddleth with strife is like +him that taketh a dog by the ears.' So if you choose to sit down and ate +your breakfast with me, well and good: but depositions I'll have none. +If your man is enquired for, you'll be answerable for his appearing, in +course; but I expect mortally” (with a wink), “you wain't hear much more +of the matter from any hand. 'Leave well alone is a good rule, but leave +ill alone is a better.'--So we says round about here; and so you'll say, +captain, when you be so old as I.” + +So Amyas sat down and ate his breakfast, and went on afterwards a long +and weary day's journey, till he saw at last beneath him the broad +shining river, and the long bridge, and the white houses piled up the +hill-side; and beyond, over Raleigh downs, the dear old tower of Northam +Church. + +Alas! Northam was altogether a desert to him then; and Bideford, as it +turned out, hardly less so. For when he rode up to Sir Richard's door, +he found that the good knight was still in Ireland, and Lady Grenville +at Stow. Whereupon he rode back again down the High Street to that same +bow-windowed Ship Tavern where the Brotherhood of the Rose made their +vow, and settled himself in the very room where they had supped. + +“Ah! Mr. Leigh--Captain Leigh now, I beg pardon,” quoth mine host. +“Bideford is an empty place now-a-days, and nothing stirring, sir. What +with Sir Richard to Ireland, and Sir John to London, and all the young +gentlemen to the wars, there's no one to buy good liquor, and no one to +court the young ladies, neither. Sack, sir? I hope so. I haven't brewed +a gallon of it this fortnight, if you'll believe me; ale, sir, and aqua +vitae, and such low-bred trade, is all I draw now-a-days. Try a pint of +sherry, sir, now, to give you an appetite. You mind my sherry of old? +Jane! Sherry and sugar, quick, while I pull off the captain's boots.” + +Amyas sat weary and sad, while the innkeeper chattered on. + +“Ah, sir! two or three like you would set the young ladies all alive +again. By-the-by, there's been strange doings among them since you were +here last. You mind Mistress Salterne!” + +“For God's sake, don't let us have that story, man! I heard enough of it +at Plymouth!” said Amyas, in so disturbed a tone that mine host looked +up, and said to himself-- + +“Ah, poor young gentleman, he's one of the hard-hit ones.” + +“How is the old man?” asked Amyas, after a pause. + +“Bears it well enough, sir; but a changed man. Never speaks to a soul, +if he can help it. Some folk say he's not right in his head; or turned +miser, or somewhat, and takes naught but bread and water, and sits up +all night in the room as was hers, turning over her garments. Heaven +knows what's on his mind--they do say he was over hard on her, and that +drove her to it. All I know is, he has never been in here for a drop +of liquor (and he came as regular every evening as the town clock, sir) +since she went, except a ten days ago, and then he met young Mr. Cary at +the door, and I heard him ask Mr. Cary when you would be home, sir.” + +“Put on my boots again. I'll go and see him.” + +“Bless you, sir! What, without your sack?” + +“Drink it yourself, man.” + +“But you wouldn't go out again this time o' night on an empty stomach, +now?” + +“Fill my men's stomachs for them, and never mind mine. It's market-day, +is it not? Send out, and see whether Mr. Cary is still in town;” and +Amyas strode out, and along the quay to Bridgeland Street, and knocked +at Mr. Salterne's door. + +Salterne himself opened it, with his usual stern courtesy. + +“I saw you coming up the street, sir. I have been expecting this honor +from you for some time past. I dreamt of you only last night, and many +a night before that too. Welcome, sir, into a lonely house. I trust the +good knight your general is well.” + +“The good knight my general is with God who made him, Mr. Salterne.” + +“Dead, sir?” + +“Foundered at sea on our way home; and the Delight lost too.” + +“Humph!” growled Salterne, after a minute's silence. “I had a venture in +her. I suppose it's gone. No matter--I can afford it, sir, and more, +I trust. And he was three years younger than I! And Draper Heard was +buried yesterday, five years younger.--How is it that every one can die, +except me? Come in, sir, come in; I have forgotten my manners.” + +And he led Amyas into his parlor, and called to the apprentices to run +one way, and to the cook to run another. + +“You must not trouble yourself to get me supper, indeed.” + +“I must though, sir, and the best of wine too; and old Salterne had a +good tap of Alicant in old time, old time, old time, sir! and you must +drink it now, whether he does or not!” and out he bustled. + +Amyas sat still, wondering what was coming next, and puzzled at the +sudden hilarity of the man, as well as his hospitality, so different +from what the innkeeper had led him to expect. + +In a minute more one of the apprentices came in to lay the cloth, and +Amyas questioned him about his master. + +“Thank the Lord that you are come, sir,” said the lad. + +“Why, then?” + +“Because there'll be a chance of us poor fellows getting a little broken +meat. We'm half-starved this three months--bread and dripping, bread and +dripping, oh dear, sir! And now he's sent out to the inn for chickens, +and game, and salads, and all that money can buy, and down in the cellar +haling out the best of wine.”--And the lad smacked his lips audibly at +the thought. + +“Is he out of his mind?” + +“I can't tell; he saith as how he must save mun's money now-a-days; for +he've a got a great venture on hand: but what a be he tell'th no man. +They call'th mun 'bread and dripping' now, sir, all town over,” said the +prentice, confidentially, to Amyas. + +“They do, do they, sirrah! Then they will call me bread and no dripping +to-morrow!” and old Salterne, entering from behind, made a dash at the +poor fellow's ears: but luckily thought better of it, having a couple of +bottles in each hand. + +“My dear sir,” said Amyas, “you don't mean us to drink all that wine?” + +“Why not, sir?” answered Salterne, in a grim, half-sneering tone, +thrusting out his square-grizzled beard and chin. “Why not, sir? why +should I not make merry when I have the honor of a noble captain in my +house? one who has sailed the seas, sir, and cut Spaniards' throats; and +may cut them again too; eh, sir? Boy, where's the kettle and the sugar?” + +“What on earth is the man at?” quoth Amyas to himself--“flattering me, +or laughing at me?” + +“Yes,” he ran on, half to himself, in a deliberate tone, evidently +intending to hint more than he said, as he began brewing the sack--in +plain English, hot negus; “Yes, bread and dripping for those who can't +fight Spaniards; but the best that money can buy for those who can. I +heard of you at Smerwick, sir--Yes, bread and dripping for me too--I +can't fight Spaniards: but for such as you. Look here, sir; I should +like to feed a crew of such up, as you'd feed a main of fighting-cocks, +and then start them with a pair of Sheffield spurs a-piece--you've a +good one there to your side, sir: but don't you think a man might carry +two now, and fight as they say those Chineses do, a sword to each hand? +You could kill more that way, Captain Leigh, I reckon?” + +Amyas half laughed. + +“One will do, Mr. Salterne, if one is quick enough with it.” + +“Humph!--Ah--No use being in a hurry. I haven't been in a hurry. No--I +waited for you; and here you are and welcome, sir! Here comes supper, a +light matter, sir, you see. A capon and a brace of partridges. I had no +time to feast you as you deserve.” + +And so he ran on all supper-time, hardly allowing Amyas to get a word +in edge-ways; but heaping him with coarse flattery, and urging him to +drink, till after the cloth was drawn, and the two left alone, he grew +so outrageous that Amyas was forced to take him to task good-humoredly. + +“Now, my dear sir, you have feasted me royally, and better far than I +deserve, but why will you go about to make me drunk twice over, first +with vainglory and then with wine?” + +Salterne looked at him a while fixedly, and then, sticking out his +chin--“Because, Captain Leigh, I am a man who has all his life tried the +crooked road first, and found the straight one the safer after all.” + +“Eh, sir? That is a strange speech for one who bears the character of +the most upright man in Bideford.” + +“Humph. So I thought myself once, sir; and well I have proved it. But +I'll be plain with you, sir. You've heard how--how I've fared since you +saw me last?” + +Amyas nodded his head. + +“I thought so. Shame rides post. Now then, Captain Leigh, listen to me. +I, being a plain man and a burgher, and one that never drew iron in my +life except to mend a pen, ask you, being a gentleman and a captain +and a man of honor, with a weapon to your side, and harness to your +back--what would you do in my place?” + +“Humph!” said Amyas, “that would very much depend on whether 'my place' +was my own fault or not.” + +“And what if it were, sir? What if all that the charitable folks of +Bideford--(Heaven reward them for their tender mercies!)--have been +telling you in the last hour be true, sir,--true! and yet not half the +truth?” + +Amyas gave a start. + +“Ah, you shrink from me! Of course a man is too righteous to forgive +those who repent, though God is not.” + +“God knows, sir--” + +“Yes, sir, God does know--all; and you shall know a little--as much as I +can tell--or you understand. Come upstairs with me, sir, as you'll drink +no more; I have a liking for you. I have watched you from your boyhood, +and I can trust you, and I'll show you what I never showed to mortal man +but one.” + +And, taking up a candle, he led the way upstairs, while Amyas followed +wondering. + +He stopped at a door, and unlocked it. + +“There, come in. Those shutters have not been opened since she--” and +the old man was silent. + +Amyas looked round the room. It was a low wainscoted room, such as one +sees in old houses: everything was in the most perfect neatness. +The snow-white sheets on the bed were turned down as if ready for an +occupant. There were books arranged on the shelves, fresh flowers on the +table; the dressing-table had all its woman's mundus of pins, and rings, +and brushes; even the dressing-gown lay over the chair-back. Everything +was evidently just as it had been left. + +“This was her room, sir,” whispered the old man. + +Amyas nodded silently, and half drew back. + +“You need not be modest about entering it now, sir,” whispered he, with +a sort of sneer. “There has been no frail flesh and blood in it for many +a day.” + +Amyas sighed. + +“I sweep it out myself every morning, and keep all tidy. See here!” + and he pulled open a drawer. “Here are all her gowns, and there are her +hoods; and there--I know 'em all by heart now, and the place of every +one. And there, sir--” + +And he opened a cupboard, where lay in rows all Rose's dolls, and the +worn-out playthings of her childhood. + +“That's the pleasantest place of all in the room to me,” said he, +whispering still, “for it minds me of when--and maybe, she may become a +little child once more, sir; it's written in the Scripture, you know--” + +“Amen!” said Amyas, who felt, to his own wonder, a big tear stealing +down each cheek. + +“And now,” he whispered, “one thing more. Look here!”--and pulling out a +key, he unlocked a chest, and lifted up tray after tray of necklaces +and jewels, furs, lawns, cloth of gold. “Look there! Two thousand pound +won't buy that chest. Twenty years have I been getting those things +together. That's the cream of many a Levant voyage, and East Indian +voyage, and West Indian voyage. My Lady Bath can't match those pearls in +her grand house at Tawstock; I got 'em from a Genoese, though, and paid +for 'em. Look at that embroidered lawn! There's not such a piece in +London; no, nor in Alexandria, I'll warrant; nor short of Calicut, where +it came from. . . . Look here again, there's a golden cup! I bought that +of one that was out with Pizarro in Peru. And look here, again!”--and +the old man gloated over the treasure. + +“And whom do you think I kept all these for? These were for her +wedding-day--for her wedding-day. For your wedding-day, if you'd been +minded, sir! Yes, yours, sir! And yet, I believe, I was so ambitious +that I would not have let her marry under an earl, all the while I was +pretending to be too proud to throw her at the head of a squire's son. +Ah, well! There was my idol, sir. I made her mad, I pampered her up with +gewgaws and vanity; and then, because my idol was just what I had made +her, I turned again and rent her. + +“And now,” said he, pointing to the open chest, “that was what I meant; +and that” (pointing to the empty bed) “was what God meant. Never mind. +Come downstairs and finish your wine. I see you don't care about it all. +Why should you! you are not her father, and you may thank God you are +not. Go, and be merry while you can, young sir! . . . And yet, all this +might have been yours. And--but I don't suppose you are one to be won +by money--but all this may be yours still, and twenty thousand pounds to +boot.” + +“I want no money, sir, but what I can earn with my own sword.” + +“Earn my money, then!” + +“What on earth do you want of me!” + +“To keep your oath,” said Salterne, clutching his arm, and looking up +into his face with searching eyes. + +“My oath! How did you know that I had one?” + +“Ah! you were well ashamed of it, I suppose, next day! A drunken frolic +all about a poor merchant's daughter! But there is nothing hidden that +shall not be revealed, nor done in the closet that is not proclaimed on +the house-tops.” + +“Ashamed of it, sir, I never was: but I have a right to ask how you came +to know it?” + +“What if a poor fat squinny rogue, a low-born fellow even as I am, +whom you had baffled and made a laughing-stock, had come to me in my +loneliness and sworn before God that if you honorable gentlemen would +not keep your words, he the clown would?” + +“John Brimblecombe?” + +“And what if I had brought him where I have brought you, and shown +him what I have shown you, and, instead of standing as stiff as any +Spaniard, as you do, he had thrown himself on his knees by that bedside, +and wept and prayed, sir, till he opened my hard heart for the first +and last time, and I fell down on my sinful knees and wept and prayed by +him?” + +“I am not given to weeping, Mr. Salterne,” said Amyas; “and as for +praying, I don't know yet what I have to pray for, on her account: my +business is to work. Show me what I can do; and when you have done that, +it will be full time to upbraid me with not doing it.” + +“You can cut that fellow's throat.” + +“It will take a long arm to reach him.” + +“I suppose it is as easy to sail to the Spanish Main as it was to sail +round the world.” + +“My good sir,” said Amyas, “I have at this moment no more worldly goods +than my clothes and my sword, so how to sail to the Spanish Main, I +don't quite see.” + +“And do you suppose, sir, that I should hint to you of such a voyage if +I meant you to be at the charge of it? No, sir; if you want two thousand +pounds, or five, to fit a ship, take it! Take it, sir! I hoarded money +for my child: and now I will spend it to avenge her.” + +Amyas was silent for a while; the old man still held his arm, still +looked up steadfastly and fiercely in his face. + +“Bring me home that man's head, and take ship, prizes--all! Keep the +gain, sir, and give me the revenge!” + +“Gain? Do you think I need bribing, sir? What kept me silent was the +thought of my mother. I dare not go without her leave.” + +Salterne made a gesture of impatience. + +“I dare not, sir; I must obey my parent, whatever else I do.” + +“Humph!” said he. “If others had obeyed theirs as well!--But you are +right, Captain Leigh, right. You will prosper, whoever else does not. +Now, sir, good-night, if you will let me be the first to say so. My old +eyes grow heavy early now-a-days. Perhaps it's old age, perhaps it's +sorrow.” + +So Amyas departed to the inn, and there, to his great joy, found Cary +waiting for him, from whom he learnt details, which must be kept for +another chapter, and which I shall tell, for convenience' sake, in my +own words and not in his. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HOW MR. JOHN BRIMBLECOMBE UNDERSTOOD THE NATURE OF AN OATH + + “The Kynge of Spayn is a foul paynim, + And lieveth on Mahound; + And pity it were that lady fayre + Should marry a heathen hound.” + + Kyng Estmere. + +About six weeks after the duel, the miller at Stow had come up to +the great house in much tribulation, to borrow the bloodhounds. Rose +Salterne had vanished in the night, no man knew whither. + +Sir Richard was in Bideford: but the old steward took on himself to send +for the keepers, and down went the serving-men to the mill with all the +idle lads of the parish at their heels, thinking a maiden-hunt very good +sport; and of course taking a view of the case as favorable as possible +to Rose. + +They reviled the miller and his wife roundly for hard-hearted old +heathens; and had no doubt that they had driven the poor maid to throw +herself over cliff, or drown herself in the sea; while all the women of +Stow, on the other hand, were of unanimous opinion that the hussy had +“gone off” with some bad fellow; and that pride was sure to have a fall, +and so forth. + +The facts of the case were, that all Rose's trinkets were left behind, +so that she had at least gone off honestly; and nothing seemed to be +missing, but some of her linen, which old Anthony the steward broadly +hinted was likely to be found in other people's boxes. The only trace +was a little footmark under her bedroom window. On that the bloodhound +was laid (of course in leash), and after a premonitory whimper, lifted +up his mighty voice, and started bell-mouthed through the garden gate, +and up the lane, towing behind him the panting keeper, till they reached +the downs above, and went straight away for Marslandmouth, where the +whole posse comitatus pulled up breathless at the door of Lucy Passmore. + +Lucy, as perhaps I should have said before, was now a widow, and found +her widowhood not altogether contrary to her interest. Her augury about +her old man had been fulfilled; he had never returned since the night on +which he put to sea with Eustace and the Jesuits. + + * “Some natural tears she shed, but dried them soon” + +as many of them, at least, as were not required for purposes of +business; and then determined to prevent suspicion by a bold move; she +started off to Stow, and told Lady Grenville a most pathetic tale: how +her husband had gone out to pollock fishing, and never returned: but how +she had heard horsemen gallop past her window in the dead of night, and +was sure they must have been the Jesuits, and that they had carried off +her old man by main force, and probably, after making use of his +services, had killed and salted him down for provision on their voyage +back to the Pope at Rome; after which she ended by entreating protection +against those “Popish skulkers up to Chapel,” who were sworn to do her a +mischief; and by an appeal to Lady Grenville's sense of justice, as to +whether the queen ought not to allow her a pension, for having had her +heart's love turned into a sainted martyr by the hands of idolatrous +traitors. + +Lady Grenville (who had a great opinion of Lucy's medical skill, and +always sent for her if one of the children had a “housty,” i. e. sore +throat) went forth and pleaded the case before Sir Richard with such +effect, that Lucy was on the whole better off than ever for the next two +or three years. But now--what had she to do with Rose's disappearance? +and, indeed, where was she herself? Her door was fast; and round it her +flock of goats stood, crying in vain for her to come and milk them; +while from the down above, her donkeys, wandering at their own sweet +will, answered the bay of the bloodhound with a burst of harmony. + +“They'm laughing at us, keper, they neddies; sure enough, we'm lost our +labor here.” + +But the bloodhound, after working about the door a while, turned down +the glen, and never stopped till he reached the margin of the sea. + +“They'm taken water. Let's go back, and rout out the old witch's +house.” + +“'Tis just like that old Lucy, to lock a poor maid into shame.” + +And returning, they attacked the cottage, and by a general plebiscitum, +ransacked the little dwelling, partly in indignation, and partly, if the +truth be told, in the hope of plunder; but plunder there was none. Lucy +had decamped with all her movable wealth, saving the huge black cat +among the embers, who at the sight of the bloodhound vanished up the +chimney (some said with a strong smell of brimstone), and being viewed +outside, was chased into the woods, where she lived, I doubt not, many +happy years, a scourge to all the rabbits of the glen. + +The goats and donkeys were driven off up to Stow; and the mob returned, +a little ashamed of themselves when their brief wrath was past; and a +little afraid, too, of what Sir Richard might say. + +He, when he returned, sold the donkeys and goats, and gave the money to +the poor, promising to refund the same, if Lucy returned and gave +herself up to justice. But Lucy did not return; and her cottage, from +which the neighbors shrank as from a haunted place, remained as she had +left it, and crumbled slowly down to four fern-covered walls, past which +the little stream went murmuring on from pool to pool--the only voice, +for many a year to come, which broke the silence of that lonely glen. + +A few days afterwards, Sir Richard, on his way from Bideford to Stow, +looked in at Clovelly Court, and mentioned, with a “by the by,” news +which made Will Cary leap from his seat almost to the ceiling. What it +was we know already. + +“And there is no clue?” asked old Cary; for his son was speechless. + +“Only this; I hear that some fellow prowling about the cliffs that night +saw a pinnace running for Lundy.” + +Will rose, and went hastily out of the room. + +In half an hour he and three or four armed servants were on board a +trawling-skiff, and away to Lundy. He did not return for three days, +and then brought news: that an elderly man, seemingly a foreigner, had +been lodging for some months past in a part of the ruined Moresco +Castle, which was tenanted by one John Braund; that a few weeks since a +younger man, a foreigner also, had joined him from on board a ship: the +ship a Flushinger, or Easterling of some sort. The ship came and went +more than once; and the young man in her. A few days since, a lady and +her maid, a stout woman, came with him up to the castle, and talked with +the elder man a long while in secret; abode there all night; and then +all three sailed in the morning. The fishermen on the beach had heard +the young man call the other father. He was a very still man, much as a +mass-priest might be. More they did not know, or did not choose to +know. + +Whereon old Cary and Sir Richard sent Will on a second trip with the +parish constable of Hartland (in which huge parish, for its sins, is +situate the Isle of Lundy, ten miles out at sea); who returned with the +body of the hapless John Braund, farmer, fisherman, smuggler, etc.; +which worthy, after much fruitless examination (wherein examinate was +afflicted with extreme deafness and loss of memory), departed to Exeter +gaol, on a charge of “harboring priests, Jesuits, gipsies, and other +suspect and traitorous persons.” + +Poor John Braund, whose motive for entertaining the said ugly customers +had probably been not treason, but a wife, seven children, and arrears +of rent, did not thrive under the change from the pure air of Lundy to +the pestiferous one of Exeter gaol, made infamous, but two years after +(if I recollect right), by a “black assizes,” nearly as fatal as that +more notorious one at Oxford; for in it, “whether by the stench of the +prisoners, or by a stream of foul air,” judge, jury, counsel, and +bystanders, numbering among them many members of the best families in +Devon, sickened in court, and died miserably within a few days. + +John Braund, then, took the gaol-fever in a week, and died raving in +that noisome den: his secret, if he had one, perished with him, and +nothing but vague suspicion was left as to Rose Salterne's fate. That +she had gone off with the Spaniard, few doubted; but whither, and in +what character? On that last subject, be sure, no mercy was shown to +her by many a Bideford dame, who had hated the poor girl simply for her +beauty; and by many a country lady, who had “always expected that the +girl would be brought to ruin by the absurd notice, beyond what her +station had a right to, which was taken of her,” while every young +maiden aspired to fill the throne which Rose had abdicated. So that, on +the whole, Bideford considered itself as going on as well without poor +Rose as it had done with her, or even better. And though she lingered +in some hearts still as a fair dream, the business and the bustle of +each day soon swept that dream away, and her place knew her no more. + +And Will Cary? + +He was for a while like a man distracted. He heaped himself with all +manner of superfluous reproaches, for having (as he said) first brought +the Rose into disgrace, and then driven her into the arms of the +Spaniard; while St. Leger, who was a sensible man enough, tried in vain +to persuade him that the fault was not his at all; that the two must +have been attached to each other long before the quarrel; that it must +have ended so, sooner or later; that old Salterne's harshness, rather +than Cary's wrath, had hastened the catastrophe; and finally, that the +Rose and her fortunes were, now that she had eloped with a Spaniard, not +worth troubling their heads about. Poor Will would not be so comforted. +He wrote off to Frank at Whitehall, telling him the whole truth, calling +himself all fools and villains, and entreating Frank's forgiveness; to +which he received an answer, in which Frank said that Will had no reason +to accuse himself; that these strange attachments were due to a +synastria, or sympathy of the stars, which ruled the destinies of each +person, to fight against which was to fight against the heavens +themselves; that he, as a brother of the Rose, was bound to believe, +nay, to assert at the sword's point if need were, that the incomparable +Rose of Torridge could make none but a worthy and virtuous choice; and +that to the man whom she had honored by her affection was due on their +part, Spaniard and Papist though he might be, all friendship, worship, +and loyal faith for evermore. + +And honest Will took it all for gospel, little dreaming what agony of +despair, what fearful suspicions, what bitter prayers, this letter had +cost to the gentle heart of Francis Leigh. + +He showed the letter triumphantly to St. Leger; and he was quite wise +enough to gainsay no word of it, at least aloud; but quite wise enough, +also, to believe in secret that Frank looked on the matter in quite a +different light; however, he contented himself with saying: + +“The man is an angel as his mother is!” and there the matter dropped for +a few days, till one came forward who had no mind to let it drop, and +that was Jack Brimblecombe, now curate of Hartland town, and “passing +rich on forty pounds a year. + +“I hope no offence, Mr. William; but when are you and the rest going +after--after her?” The name stuck in his throat. + +Cary was taken aback. + +“What's that to thee, Catiline the blood-drinker?” asked he, trying to +laugh it off. + +“What? Don't laugh at me, sir, for it's no laughing matter. I drank +that night naught worse, I expect, than red wine. Whatever it was, we +swore our oaths, Mr. Cary; and oaths are oaths, say I.” + +“Of course, Jack, of course; but to go to look for her--and when we've +found her, cut her lover's throat. Absurd, Jack, even if she were worth +looking for, or his throat worth cutting. Tut, tut, tut--” + +But Jack looked steadfastly in his face, and after some silence: + +How far is it to the Caracas, then, sir?” + +“What is that to thee, man?” + +“Why, he was made governor thereof, I hear; so that would be the place +to find her?” + +“You don't mean to go thither to seek her?” shouted Cary, forcing a +laugh. + +“That depends on whether I can go, sir; but if I can scrape the money +together, or get a berth on board some ship, why, God's will must be +done.” + +Will looked at him, to see if he had been drinking, or gone mad; but the +little pigs' eyes were both sane and sober. + +Will knew no answer. To laugh at the poor fellow was easy enough; to +deny that he was right, that he was a hero and cavalier, outdoing +romance itself in faithfulness, not so easy; and Cary, in the first +impulse, wished him at the bottom of the bay for shaming him. Of +course, his own plan of letting ill alone was the rational, prudent, +irreproachable plan, and just what any gentleman in his senses would +have done; but here was a vulgar, fat curate, out of his senses, +determined not to let ill alone, but to do something, as Cary felt in +his heart, of a far diviner stamp. + +“Well,” said Jack, in his stupid steadfast way, “it's a very bad +look-out; but mother's pretty well off, if father dies, and the maidens +are stout wenches enough, and will make tidy servants, please the Lord. +And you'll see that they come to no harm, Mr. William, for old +acquaintance' sake, if I never come back.” + +Cary was silent with amazement. + +“And, Mr. William, you know me for an honest man, I hope. Will you lend +me a five pound, and take my books in pawn for them, just to help me +out?” + +“Are you mad, or in a dream? You will never find her!” + +“That's no reason why I shouldn't do my duty in looking for her, Mr. +William.” + +“But, my good fellow, even if you get to the Indies, you will be clapt +into the Inquisition, and burnt alive, as sure as your name is Jack.” + +“I know that,” said he, in a doleful tone; “and a sore struggle of the +flesh I have had about it; for I am a great coward, Mr. William, a dirty +coward, and always was, as you know: but maybe the Lord will take care +of me, as He does of little children and drunken men; and if not, Mr. +Will, I'd sooner burn, and have it over, than go on this way any longer, +I would!” and Jack burst out blubbering. + +“What way, my dear old lad?” said Will, softened as he well might be. + +“Why, not--not to know whether--whether--whether she's married to him or +not--her that I looked up to as an angel of God, as pure as the light of +day; and knew she was too good for a poor pot-head like me; and prayed +for her every night, God knows, that she might marry a king, if there +was one fit for her--and I not to know whether she's living in sin or +not, Mr. William.--It's more than I can bear, and there's an end of it. +And if she is married to him they keep no faith with heretics; they can +dissolve the marriage, or make away with her into the Inquisition; burn +her, Mr. Cary, as soon as burn me, the devils incarnate!” + +Cary shuddered; the fact, true and palpable as it was, had never struck +him before. + +“Yes! or make her deny her God by torments, if she hasn't done it +already for love to that--I know how love will make a body sell his +soul, for I've been in love. Don't you laugh at me, Mr. Will, or I +shall go mad!” + +“God knows, I was never less inclined to laugh at you in my life, my +brave old Jack.” + +“Is it so, then? Bless you for that word!” and Jack held out his hand. +“But what will become of my soul, after my oath, if I don't seek her +out, just to speak to her, to warn her, for God's sake, even if it did +no good; just to set before her the Lord's curse on idolatry and +Antichrist, and those who deny Him for the sake of any creature, though +I can't think he would be hard on her,--for who could? But I must speak +all the same. The Lord has laid the burden on me, and done it must be. +God help me!” + +“Jack,” said Cary, “if this is your duty, it is others'.” + +“No, sir, I don't say that; you're a layman, but I am a deacon, and the +chaplain of you all, and sworn to seek out Christ's sheep scattered up +and down this naughty world, and that innocent lamb first of all.” + +“You have sheep at Hartland, Jack, already.” + +“There's plenty better than I will tend them, when I am gone; but none +that will tend her, because none love her like me, and they won't +venture. Who will? It can't be expected, and no shame to them?” + +“I wonder what Amyas Leigh would say to all this, if he were at home?” + +“Say? He'd do. He isn't one for talking. He'd go through fire and +water for her, you trust him, Will Cary; and call me an ass if he +won't.” + +“Will you wait, then, till he comes back, and ask him?” + +“He may not be back for a year and more.” + +“Hear reason, Jack. If you will wait like a rational and patient man, +instead of rushing blindfold on your ruin, something may be done.” + +“You think so!” + +“I cannot promise; but--” + +“But promise me one thing. Do you tell Mr. Frank what I say--or rather, +I'll warrant, if I knew the truth, he has said the very same thing +himself already.” + +“You are out there, old man; for here is his own handwriting.” + +Jack read the letter and sighed bitterly. “Well, I did take him for +another guess sort of fine gentleman. Still, if my duty isn't his, it's +mine all the same. I judge no man; but I go, Mr. Cary.” + +“But go you shall not till Amyas returns. As I live, I will tell your +father, Jack, unless you promise; and you dare not disobey him.” + +“I don't know even that, for conscience' sake,” said Jack, doubtfully. + +“At least, you stay and dine here, old fellow, and we will settle +whether you are to break the fifth commandment or not, over good brewed +sack.” + +Now a good dinner was (as we know) what Jack loved, and loved too oft in +vain; so he submitted for the nonce, and Cary thought, ere he went, that +he had talked him pretty well round. At least he went home, and was +seen no more for a week. + +But at the end of that time he returned, and said with a joyful voice-- + +“I have settled all, Mr. Will. The parson of Welcombe will serve my +church for two Sundays, and I am away for London town, to speak to Mr. +Frank.” + +“To London? How wilt get there?” + +“On Shanks his mare,” said Jack, pointing to his bandy legs. “But I +expect I can get a lift on board of a coaster so far as Bristol, and +it's no way on to signify, I hear.” + +Cary tried in vain to dissuade him; and then forced on him a small loan, +with which away went Jack, and Cary heard no more of him for three +weeks. + +At last he walked into Clovelly Court again just before supper-time, +thin and leg-weary, and sat himself down among the serving-men till Will +appeared. + +Will took him up above the salt, and made much of him (which indeed the +honest fellow much needed), and after supper asked him in private how he +had sped. + +“I have learnt a lesson, Mr. William. I've learnt that there is one on +earth loves her better than I, if she had but had the wit to have taken +him.” + +“But what says he of going to seek her?” + +“He says what I say, Go! and he says what you say, Wait.” + +“Go? Impossible! How can that agree with his letter?” + +“That's no concern of mine. Of course, being nearer heaven than I am, +he sees clearer what he should say and do than I can see for him. Oh, +Mr. Will, that's not a man, he's an angel of God; but he's dying, Mr. +Will.” + +“Dying?” + +“Yes, faith, of love for her. I can see it in his eyes, and hear it in +his voice; but I am of tougher hide and stiffer clay, and so you see I +can't die even if I tried. But I'll obey my betters, and wait.” + +And so Jack went home to his parish that very evening, weary as he was, +in spite of all entreaties to pass the night at Clovelly. But he had +left behind him thoughts in Cary's mind, which gave their owner no rest +by day or night, till the touch of a seeming accident made them all +start suddenly into shape, as a touch of the freezing water covers it in +an instant with crystals of ice. + +He was lounging (so he told Amyas) one murky day on Bideford quay, when +up came Mr. Salterne. Cary had shunned him of late, partly from +delicacy, partly from dislike of his supposed hard-heartedness. But +this time they happened to meet full; and Cary could not pass without +speaking to him. + +“Well, Mr. Salterne, and how goes on the shipping trade?” + +“Well enough, sir, if some of you young gentlemen would but follow Mr. +Leigh's example, and go forth to find us stay-at-homes new markets for +our ware.” + +“What? you want to be rid of us, eh?” + +“I don't know why I should, sir. We sha'n't cross each other now, sir, +whatever might have been once. But if I were you, I should be in the +Indies about now, if I were not fighting the queen's battles nearer +home.” + +“In the Indies? I should make but a poor hand of Drake's trade.” And so +the conversation dropped; but Cary did not forget the hint. + +“So, lad, to make an end of a long story,” said he to Amyas; “if you are +minded to take the old man's offer, so am I: and Westward-ho with you, +come foul come fair.” + +“It will be but a wild-goose chase, Will.” + +“If she is with him, we shall find her at La Guayra. If she is not, and +the villain has cast her off down the wind, that will be only an +additional reason for making an example of him.” + +“And if neither of them are there, Will, the Plate-fleets will be; so it +will be our own shame if we come home empty-handed. But will your +father let you run such a risk?” + +“My father!” said Cary, laughing. “He has just now so good hope of a +long string of little Carys to fill my place, that he will be in no lack +of an heir, come what will.” + +“Little Carys?” + +“I tell you truth. I think he must have had a sly sup of that fountain +of perpetual youth, which our friend Don Guzman's grandfather went to +seek in Florida; for some twelvemonth since, he must needs marry a +tenant's buxom daughter; and Mistress Abishag Jewell has brought him one +fat baby already. So I shall go, back to Ireland, or with you: but +somewhere. I can't abide the thing's squalling, any more than I can +seeing Mistress Abishag sitting in my poor dear mother's place, and +informing me every other day that she is come of an illustrious house, +because she is (or is not) third cousin seven times removed to my +father's old friend, Bishop Jewell of glorious memory. I had +three-parts of a quarrel with the dear old man the other day; for after +one of her peacock-bouts, I couldn't for the life of me help saying, +that as the Bishop had written an Apology for the people of England, my +father had better conjure up his ghost to write an apology for him, and +head it, 'Why green heads should grow on gray shoulders.'” + +“You impudent villain! And what did he say?” + +Laughed till he cried again, and told me if I did not like it I might +leave it; which is just what I intend to do. Only mind, if we go, we +must needs take Jack Brimblecombe with us, or he will surely heave +himself over Harty Point, and his ghost will haunt us to our dying day.” + +“Jack shall go. None deserves it better.” + +After which there was a long consultation on practical matters, and it +was concluded that Amyas should go up to London and sound Frank and his +mother before any further steps were taken. The other brethren of the +Rose were scattered far and wide, each at his post, and St. Leger had +returned to his uncle, so that it would be unfair to them, as well as a +considerable delay, to demand of them any fulfilment of their vow. +And, as Amyas sagely remarked, “Too many cooks spoil the broth, and +half-a-dozen gentlemen aboard one ship are as bad as two kings of +Brentford.” + +With which maxim he departed next morning for London, leaving Yeo with +Cary. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE MOST CHIVALROUS ADVENTURE OF THE GOOD SHIP ROSE + + “He is brass within, and steel without, + With beams on his topcastle strong; + And eighteen pieces of ordinance + He carries on either side along.” + + Sir Andrew Barton. + +Let us take boat, as Amyas did, at Whitehall-stairs, and slip down ahead +of him under old London Bridge, and so to Deptford Creek, where remains, +as it were embalmed, the famous ship Pelican, in which Drake had sailed +round the world. There she stands, drawn up high and dry upon the sedgy +bank of Thames, like an old warrior resting after his toil. Nailed upon +her mainmast are epigrams and verses in honor of her and of her captain, +three of which, by the Winchester scholar, Camden gives in his History; +and Elizabeth's self consecrated her solemnly, and having banqueted on +board, there and then honored Drake with the dignity of knighthood. “At +which time a bridge of planks, by which they came on board, broke under +the press of people, and fell down with a hundred men upon it, who, +notwithstanding, had none of them any harm. So as that ship may seem to +have been built under a lucky planet.” + +There she has remained since as a show, and moreover as a sort of +dining-hall for jovial parties from the city; one of which would seem +to be on board this afternoon, to judge from the flags which bedizen the +masts, the sounds of revelry and savory steams which issue from those +windows which once were portholes, and the rushing to and fro along the +river brink, and across that lucky bridge, of white-aproned waiters from +the neighboring Pelican Inn. A great feast is evidently toward, for +with those white-aproned waiters are gay serving men, wearing on their +shoulders the city-badge. The lord mayor is giving a dinner to certain +gentlemen of the Leicester house party, who are interested in foreign +discoveries; and what place so fit for such a feast as the Pelican +itself? + +Look at the men all round; a nobler company you will seldom see. +Especially too, if you be Americans, look at their faces, and reverence +them; for to them and to their wisdom you owe the existence of your +mighty fatherland. + +At the head of the table sits the lord mayor; whom all readers will +recognize at once, for he is none other than that famous Sir Edward +Osborne, clothworker, and ancestor of the dukes of Leeds, whose romance +now-a-days is in every one's hands. He is aged, but not changed, since +he leaped from the window upon London Bridge into the roaring tide +below, to rescue the infant who is now his wife. The chivalry and +promptitude of the 'prentice boy have grown and hardened into the +thoughtful daring of the wealthy merchant adventurer. There he sits, a +right kingly man, with my lord Earl of Cumberland on his right hand, and +Walter Raleigh on his left; the three talk together in a low voice on +the chance of there being vast and rich countries still undiscovered +between Florida and the River of Canada. Raleigh's half-scientific +declamation and his often quotations of Doctor Dee the conjuror, have +less effect on Osborne than on Cumberland (who tried many an adventure +to foreign parts, and failed in all of them; apparently for the simple +reason that, instead of going himself, he sent other people), and +Raleigh is fain to call to his help the quiet student who sits on his +left hand, Richard Hakluyt, of Oxford. But he is deep in talk with a +reverend elder, whose long white beard flows almost to his waist, and +whose face is furrowed by a thousand storms; Anthony Jenkinson by name, +the great Asiatic traveller, who is discoursing to the Christ-church +virtuoso of reindeer sledges and Siberian steppes, and of the fossil +ivory, plain proof of Noah's flood, which the Tungoos dig from the +ice-cliffs of the Arctic sea. Next to him is Christopher Carlile, +Walsingham's son-in-law (as Sidney also is now), a valiant captain, +afterwards general of the soldiery in Drake's triumphant West Indian +raid of 1585, with whom a certain Bishop of Carthagena will hereafter +drink good wine. He is now busy talking with Alderman Hart the +grocer, Sheriff Spencer the clothworker, and Charles Leigh (Amyas's +merchant-cousin), and with Aldworth the mayor of Bristol, and William +Salterne, alderman thereof, and cousin of our friend at Bideford. For +Carlile, and Secretary Walsingham also, have been helping them heart +and soul for the last two years to collect money for Humphrey and Adrian +Gilbert's great adventures to the North-West, on one of which Carlile +was indeed to have sailed himself, but did not go after all; I never +could discover for what reason. + +On the opposite side of the table is a group, scarcely less interesting. +Martin Frobisher and John Davis, the pioneers of the North-West passage, +are talking with Alderman Sanderson, the great geographer and “setter +forth of globes;” with Mr. Towerson, Sir Gilbert Peckham, our old +acquaintance Captain John Winter, and last, but not least, with Philip +Sidney himself, who, with his accustomed courtesy; has given up his +rightful place toward the head of the table that he may have a knot of +virtuosi all to himself; and has brought with him, of course, his two +especial intimates, Mr. Edward Dyer and Mr. Francis Leigh. They too are +talking of the North-West passage: and Sidney is lamenting that he is +tied to diplomacy and courts, and expressing his envy of old Martin +Frobisher in all sorts of pretty compliments; to which the other replies +that, + +“It's all very fine to talk of here, a sailing on dry land with a +good glass of wine before you; but you'd find it another guess sort of +business, knocking about among the icebergs with your beard frozen fast +to your ruff, Sir Philip, specially if you were a bit squeamish about +the stomach.” + +“That were a slight matter to endure, my dear sir, if by it I could win +the honor which her majesty bestowed on you, when her own ivory hand +waved a farewell 'kerchief to your ship from the windows of Greenwich +Palace.” + +“Well, sir, folks say you have no reason to complain of lack of favors, +as you have no reason to deserve lack; and if you can get them by +staying ashore, don't you go to sea to look for more, say I. Eh, Master +Towerson?” + +Towerson's gray beard, which has stood many a foreign voyage, both fair +and foul, wags grim assent. But at this moment a Waiter enters, and-- + +“Please my lord mayor's worship, there is a tall gentleman outside, +would speak with the Right Honorable Sir Walter Raleigh.” + +“Show him in, man. Sir Walter's friends are ours.” + +Amyas enters, and stands hesitating in the doorway. + +“Captain Leigh!” cry half a-dozen voices. + +“Why did you not walk in, sir?” says Osborne. “You should know your way +well enough between these decks.” + +“Well enough, my lords and gentlemen. But, Sir Walter--you will excuse +me”--and he gave Raleigh a look which was enough for his quick wit. +Turning pale as death, he rose, and followed Amyas into an adjoining +cabin. They were five minutes together; and then Amyas came out alone. + +In few words he told the company the sad story which we already know. +Ere it was ended, noble tears were glistening on some of those stern +faces. + +“The old Egyptians,” said Sir Edward Osborne, “when they banqueted, set +a corpse among their guests, for a memorial of human vanity. Have we +forgotten God and our own weakness in this our feast, that He Himself +has sent us thus a message from the dead?” + +“Nay, my lord mayor,” said Sidney, “not from the dead, but from the +realm of everlasting life.” + +“Amen!” answered Osborne. “But, gentlemen, our feast is at an end. There +are those here who would drink on merrily, as brave men should, in spite +of the private losses of which they have just had news; but none here +who can drink with the loss of so great a man still ringing in his +ears.” + +It was true. Though many of the guests had suffered severely by the +failure of the expedition, they had utterly forgotten that fact in the +awful news of Sir Humphrey's death; and the feast broke up sadly and +hurriedly, while each man asked his neighbor, “What will the queen say?” + +Raleigh re-entered in a few minutes, but was silent, and pressing many +an honest hand as he passed, went out to call a wherry, beckoning Amyas +to follow him. Sidney, Cumberland, and Frank went with them in another +boat, leaving the two to talk over the sad details. + +They disembarked at Whitehall-stairs; Raleigh, Sidney, and Cumberland +went to the palace; and the two brothers to their mother's lodgings. + +Amyas had prepared his speech to Frank about Rose Salterne, but now that +it was come to the point, he had not courage to begin, and longed that +Frank would open the matter. Frank, too, shrank from what he knew must +come, and all the more because he was ignorant that Amyas had been to +Bideford, or knew aught of the Rose's disappearance. + +So they went upstairs; and it was a relief to both of them to find that +their mother was at the Abbey; for it was for her sake that both dreaded +what was coming. So they went and stood in the bay-window which looked +out upon the river, and talked of things indifferent, and looked +earnestly at each other's faces by the fading light, for it was now +three years since they had met. + +Years and events had deepened the contrast between the two brothers; and +Frank smiled with affectionate pride as he looked up in Amyas's face, +and saw that he was no longer merely the rollicking handy sailor-lad, +but the self-confident and stately warrior, showing in every look and +gesture, + + “The reason firm, the temperate will, + Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill,” + +worthy of one whose education had been begun by such men as Drake and +Grenville, and finished by such as Raleigh and Gilbert. His long locks +were now cropped close to the head; but as a set-off, the lips and chin +were covered with rich golden beard; his face was browned by a thousand +suns and storms; a long scar, the trophy of some Irish fight, crossed +his right temple; his huge figure had gained breadth in proportion to +its height; and his hand, as it lay upon the window-sill, was hard and +massive as a smith's. Frank laid his own upon it, and sighed; and Amyas +looked down, and started at the contrast between the two--so slender, +bloodless, all but transparent, were the delicate fingers of the +courtier. Amyas looked anxiously into his brother's face. It was +changed, indeed, since they last met. The brilliant red was still on +either cheek, but the white had become dull and opaque; the lips were +pale, the features sharpened; the eyes glittered with unnatural fire: +and when Frank told Amyas that he looked aged, Amyas could not help +thinking that the remark was far more true of the speaker himself. + +Trying to shut his eyes to the palpable truth, he went on with his chat, +asking the names of one building after another. + +“And so this is old Father Thames, with his bank of palaces?” + +“Yes. His banks are stately enough; yet, you see, he cannot stay to look +at them. He hurries down to the sea; and the sea into the ocean; and the +ocean Westward-ho, forever. All things move Westward-ho. Perhaps we may +move that way ourselves some day, Amyas.” + +“What do you mean by that strange talk?” + +“Only that the ocean follows the primum mobile of the heavens, and flows +forever from east to west. Is there anything so strange in my thinking +of that, when I am just come from a party where we have been drinking +success to Westward-ho?” + +“And much good has come of it! I have lost the best friend and the +noblest captain upon earth, not to mention all my little earnings, in +that same confounded gulf of Westward-ho.” + +“Yes, Sir Humphrey Gilbert's star has set in the West--why not? Sun, +moon, and planets sink into the West: why not the meteors of this lower +world? why not a will-o'-the-wisp like me, Amyas?” + +“God forbid, Frank!” + +“Why, then? Is not the West the land of peace, and the land of dreams? +Do not our hearts tell us so each time we look upon the setting sun, and +long to float away with him upon the golden-cushioned clouds? They bury +men with their faces to the East. I should rather have mine turned +to the West, Amyas, when I die; for I cannot but think it some divine +instinct which made the ancient poets guess that Elysium lay beneath the +setting sun. It is bound up in the heart of man, that longing for the +West. I complain of no one for fleeing away thither beyond the utmost +sea, as David wished to flee, and be at peace.” + +“Complain of no one for fleeing thither?” asked Amyas. “That is more +than I do.” + +Frank looked inquiringly at him; and then-- + +“No. If I had complained of any one, it would have been of you just now, +for seeming to be tired of going Westward-ho.” + +“Do you wish me to go, then?” + +“God knows,” said Frank, after a moment's pause. “But I must tell you +now, I suppose, once and for all. That has happened at Bideford which--” + +“Spare us both, Frank; I know all. I came through Bideford on my way +hither; and came hither not merely to see you and my mother, but to ask +your advice and her permission.” + +“True heart! noble heart!” cried Frank. “I knew you would be stanch!” + +“Westward-ho it is, then?” + +“Can we escape?” + +“We?” + +“Amyas, does not that which binds you bind me?” + +Amyas started back, and held Frank by the shoulders at arm's length; as +he did so, he could feel through, that his brother's arms were but skin +and bone. + +“You? Dearest man, a month of it would kill you!” + +Frank smiled, and tossed his head on one side in his pretty way. + +“I belong to the school of Thales, who held that the ocean is the mother +of all life; and feel no more repugnance at returning to her bosom again +than Humphrey Gilbert did.” + +“But, Frank,--my mother?” + +“My mother knows all; and would not have us unworthy of her.” + +“Impossible! She will never give you up!” + +“All things are possible to them that believe in God, my brother; and +she believes. But, indeed, Doctor Dee, the wise man, gave her but this +summer I know not what of prognostics and diagnostics concerning me. I +am born, it seems, under a cold and watery planet, and need, if I am to +be long-lived, to go nearer to the vivifying heat of the sun, and there +bask out my little life, like fly on wall. To tell truth, he has bidden +me spend no more winters here in the East; but return to our native +sea-breezes, there to warm my frozen lungs; and has so filled my +mother's fancy with stories of sick men, who were given up for lost in +Germany and France, and yet renewed their youth, like any serpent or +eagle, by going to Italy, Spain, and the Canaries, that she herself will +be more ready to let me go than I to leave her all alone. And yet I must +go, Amyas. It is not merely that my heart pants, as Sidney's does, as +every gallant's ought, to make one of your noble choir of Argonauts, +who are now replenishing the earth and subduing it for God and for the +queen; it is not merely, Amyas, that love calls me,--love tyrannous and +uncontrollable, strengthened by absence, and deepened by despair; but +honor, Amyas--my oath--” + +And he paused for lack of breath, and bursting into a violent fit of +coughing, leaned on his brother's shoulder, while Amyas cried, + +“Fools, fools that we were--that I was, I mean--to take that fantastical +vow!” + +“Not so,” answered a gentle voice from behind: “you vowed for the +sake of peace on earth, and good-will toward men, and 'Blessed are the +peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.' No my sons, +be sure that such self-sacrifice as you have shown will meet its full +reward at the hand of Him who sacrificed Himself for you.” + +“Oh, mother! mother!” said Amyas, “and do you not hate the very sight of +me--come here to take away your first-born?” + +“My boy, God takes him, and not you. And if I dare believe in such +predictions, Doctor Dee assured me that some exceeding honor awaited you +both in the West, to each of you according to your deserts.” + +“Ah!” said Amyas. “My blessing, I suppose, will be like Esau's, to live +by my sword; while Jacob here, the spiritual man, inherits the kingdom +of heaven, and an angel's crown.” + +“Be it what it may, it will surely be a blessing, as long as you are +such, my children, as you have been. At least my Frank will be safe from +the intrigues of court, and the temptations of the world. Would that I +too could go with you, and share in your glory! Come, now,” said she, +laying her head upon Amyas's breast, and looking up into his face with +one of her most winning smiles, “I have heard of heroic mothers ere +now who went forth with their sons to battle, and cheered them on to +victory. Why should I not go with you on a more peaceful errand? I could +nurse the sick, if there were any; I could perhaps have speech of that +poor girl, and win her back more easily than you. She might listen to +words from a woman--a woman, too, who has loved--which she could not +hear from men. At least I could mend and wash for you. I suppose it is +as easy to play the good housewife afloat as on shore? Come, now!” + +Amyas looked from one to the other. + +“God only knows which of the two is less fit to go. Mother! mother! you +know not what you ask. Frank! Frank! I do not want you with me. This +is a sterner matter than either of you fancy it to be; one that must be +worked out, not with kind words, but with sharp shot and cold steel.” + +“How?” cried both together, aghast. + +“I must pay my men, and pay my fellow-adventurers; and I must pay them +with Spanish gold. And what is more, I cannot, as a loyal subject of +the queen's, go to the Spanish Main with a clear conscience on my own +private quarrel, unless I do all the harm that my hand finds to do, by +day and night, to her enemies, and the enemies of God.” + +“What nobler knight-errantry?” said Frank, cheerfully; but Mrs. Leigh +shuddered. + +“What! Frank too?” she said, half to herself; but her sons knew what she +meant. Amyas's warlike life, honorable and righteous as she knew it +to be, she had borne as a sad necessity: but that Frank as well should +become “a man of blood,” was more than her gentle heart could face at +first sight. That one youthful duel of his he had carefully concealed +from her, knowing her feeling on such matters. And it seemed too +dreadful to her to associate that gentle spirit with all the ferocities +and the carnage of a battlefield. “And yet,” said she to herself, “is +this but another of the self-willed idols which I must renounce one by +one?” And then, catching at a last hope, she answered-- + +“Frank must at least ask the queen's leave to go; and if she permits, +how can I gainsay her wisdom?” + +And so the conversation dropped, sadly enough. + +But now began a fresh perplexity in Frank's soul, which amused Amyas at +first, when it seemed merely jest, but nettled him a good deal when +he found it earnest. For Frank looked forward to asking the queen's +permission for his voyage with the most abject despondency and terror. +Two or three days passed before he could make up his mind to ask for +an interview with her; and he spent the time in making as much interest +with Leicester, Hatton, and Sidney, as if he were about to sue for a +reprieve from the scaffold. + +So said Amyas, remarking, further, that the queen could not cut his head +off for wanting to go to sea. + +“But what axe so sharp as her frown?” said Frank in most lugubrious +tone. + +Amyas began to whistle in a very rude way. + +“Ah, my brother, you cannot comprehend the pain of parting from her.” + +“No, I can't. I would die for the least hair of her royal head, God +bless it! but I could live very well from now till Doomsday without ever +setting eyes on the said head.” + +“Plato's Troglodytes regretted not that sunlight which they had never +beheld.” + +Amyas, not understanding this recondite conceit, made no answer to it, +and there the matter ended for the time. But at last Frank obtained his +audience; and after a couple of hours' absence returned quite pale and +exhausted. + +“Thank Heaven, it is over! She was very angry at first--what else could +she be?--and upbraided me with having set my love so low. I could only +answer, that my fatal fault was committed before the sight of her had +taught me what was supremely lovely, and only worthy of admiration. Then +she accused me of disloyalty in having taken an oath which bound me to +the service of another than her. I confessed my sin with tears, and when +she threatened punishment, pleaded that the offence had avenged itself +heavily already,--for what worse punishment than exile from the sunlight +of her presence, into the outer darkness which reigns where she is not? +Then she was pleased to ask me, how I could dare, as her sworn servant, +to desert her side in such dangerous times as these; and asked me how I +should reconcile it to my conscience, if on my return I found her dead +by the assassin's knife? At which most pathetic demand I could only +throw myself at once on my own knees and her mercy, and so awaited +my sentence. Whereon, with that angelic pity which alone makes her +awfulness endurable, she turned to Hatton and asked, 'What say you, +Mouton? Is he humbled sufficiently?' and so dismissed me.” + +“Heigh-ho!” yawned Amyas; + + “If the bridge had been stronger, + My tale had been longer.” + +“Amyas! Amyas!” quoth Frank, solemnly, “you know not what power over the +soul has the native and God-given majesty of royalty (awful enough in +itself) when to it is superadded the wisdom of the sage, and therewithal +the tenderness of the woman. Had I my will, there should be in every +realm not a salique, but an anti-salique law: whereby no kings, but only +queens should rule mankind. Then would weakness and not power be to man +the symbol of divinity; love, and not cunning, would be the arbiter of +every cause; and chivalry, not fear, the spring of all obedience.” + +“Humph! There's some sense in that,” quoth Amyas. “I'd run a mile for +a woman when I would not walk a yard for a man; and--Who is this our +mother is bringing in? The handsomest fellow I ever saw in my life!” + +Amyas was not far wrong; for Mrs. Leigh's companion was none other than +Mr. Secretary, Amyas's Smerwick Fort acquaintance; alias Colin Clout, +alias Immerito, alias Edmund Spenser. Some half-jesting conversation had +seemingly been passing between the poet and the saint; for as they came +in she said with a smile (which was somewhat of a forced one)--“Well, +my dear sons, you are sure of immortality, at least on earth; for Mr. +Spenser has been vowing to me to give your adventure a whole canto to +itself in his 'Faerie Queene'.” + +“And you no less, madam,” said Spenser. “What were the story of the +Gracchi worth without the figure of Cornelia? If I honor the fruit, I +must not forget the stem which bears it. Frank, I congratulate you.” + +“Then you know the result of my interview, mother?” + +“I know everything, and am content,” said Mrs. Leigh. + +“Mrs. Leigh has reason to be content,” said Spenser, “with that which is +but her own likeness.” + +Spare your flattery to an old woman, Mr. Spenser. When, pray, did I” + (with a most loving look at Frank) “refuse knighthood for duty's sake?” + +“Knighthood?” cried Amyas. “You never told me that, Frank!” + +“That may well be, Captain Leigh,” said Spenser; “but believe me, her +majesty (so Hatton assures me) told him this day, no less than that by +going on this quest he deprived himself of that highest earthly honor, +which crowned heads are fain to seek from their own subjects.” + +Spenser did not exaggerate. Knighthood was then the prize of merit only; +and one so valuable, that Elizabeth herself said, when asked why she did +not bestow a peerage upon some favorite, that having already knighted +him, she had nothing better to bestow. It remained for young Essex to +begin the degradation of the order in his hapless Irish campaign, and +for James to complete that degradation by his novel method of raising +money by the sale of baronetcies; a new order of hereditary knighthood +which was the laughing-stock of the day, and which (however venerable +it may have since become) reflects anything but honor upon its first +possessors. + +“I owe you no thanks, Colin,” said Frank, “for having broached my +secret: but I have lost nothing after all. There is still an order of +knighthood in which I may win my spurs, even though her majesty refuse +me the accolade.” + +“What, then? you will not take it from a foreign prince?” + +Frank smiled. + +“Have you never read of that knighthood which is eternal in the heavens, +and of those true cavaliers whom John saw in Patmos, riding on white +horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, knights-errant in the +everlasting war against the False Prophet and the Beast? Let me but +become worthy of their ranks hereafter, what matter whether I be called +Sir Frank on earth?” + +“My son,” said Mrs. Leigh, “remember that they follow One whose vesture +is dipped, not in the blood of His enemies, but in His own.” + +“I have remembered it for many a day; and remembered, too, that the +garments of the knights may need the same tokens as their captain's.” + +“Oh, Frank! Frank! is not His precious blood enough to cleanse all sin, +without the sacrifice of our own?” + +“We may need no more than His blood, mother, and yet He may need ours,” + said Frank. + + * * * * * + +How that conversation ended I know not, nor whether Spenser fulfilled +his purpose of introducing the two brothers and their mother into his +“Faerie Queene.” If so, the manuscripts must have been lost among those +which perished (along with Spenser's baby) in the sack of Kilcolman by +the Irish in 1598. But we need hardly regret the loss of them; for the +temper of the Leighs and their mother is the same which inspires every +canto of that noblest of poems; and which inspired, too, hundreds in +those noble days, when the chivalry of the Middle Ages was wedded to the +free thought and enterprise of the new. + + * * * * * + +So mother and sons returned to Bideford, and set to work. Frank +mortgaged a farm; Will Cary did the same (having some land of his own +from his mother). Old Salterne grumbled at any man save himself spending +a penny on the voyage, and forced on the adventurers a good ship of two +hundred tons burden, and five hundred pounds toward fitting her out; +Mrs. Leigh worked day and night at clothes and comforts of every kind; +Amyas had nothing to give but his time and his brains: but, as Salterne +said, the rest would have been of little use without them; and day after +day he and the old merchant were on board the ship, superintending +with their own eyes the fitting of every rope and nail. Cary went about +beating up recruits; and made, with his jests and his frankness, the +best of crimps: while John Brimblecombe, beside himself with joy, +toddled about after him from tavern to tavern, and quay to quay, exalted +for the time being (as Cary told him) into a second Peter the Hermit; +and so fiercely did he preach a crusade against the Spaniards, through +Bideford and Appledore, Clovelly and Ilfracombe, that Amyas might have +had a hundred and fifty loose fellows in the first fortnight. But he +knew better: still smarting from the effects of a similar haste in the +Newfoundland adventure, he had determined to take none but picked men; +and by dint of labor he obtained them. + +Only one scapegrace did he take into his crew, named Parracombe; and +by that scapegrace hangs a tale. He was an old schoolfellow of his +at Bideford, and son of a merchant in that town--one of those unlucky +members who are “nobody's enemy but their own”--a handsome, idle, +clever fellow, who used his scholarship, of which he had picked up some +smattering, chiefly to justify his own escapades, and to string songs +together. Having drunk all that he was worth at home, he had in a +penitent fit forsworn liquor, and tormented Amyas into taking him to +sea, where he afterwards made as good a sailor as any one else, +but sorely scandalized John Brimblecombe by all manner of heretical +arguments, half Anacreontic, half smacking of the rather loose doctrines +of that “Family of Love” which tormented the orthodoxy and morality of +more than one Bishop of Exeter. Poor Will Parracombe! he was born a few +centuries too early. Had he but lived now, he might have published +a volume or two of poetry, and then settled down on the staff of a +newspaper. Had he even lived thirty years later than he did, he might +have written frantic tragedies or filthy comedies for the edification of +James's profligate metropolis, and roistered it in taverns with Marlowe, +to die as Marlowe did, by a footman's sword in a drunken brawl. But in +those stern days such weak and hysterical spirits had no fair vent for +their “humors,” save in being reconciled to the Church of Rome, and +plotting with Jesuits to assassinate the queen, as Parry and Somerville, +and many other madmen, did. + +So, at least, some Jesuit or other seems to have thought, shortly after +Amyas had agreed to give the spendthrift a berth on board. For one day +Amyas, going down to Appledore about his business, was called into the +little Mariners' Rest inn, to extract therefrom poor Will Parracombe, +who (in spite of his vow) was drunk and outrageous, and had vowed the +death of the landlady and all her kin. So Amyas fetched him out by the +collar, and walked him home thereby to Bideford; during which walk Will +told him a long and confused story; how an Egyptian rogue had met him +that morning on the sands by Boathythe, offered to tell his fortune, +and prophesied to him great wealth and honor, but not from the Queen of +England; had coaxed him to the Mariners' Rest, and gambled with him +for liquor, at which it seemed Will always won, and of course drank his +winnings on the spot; whereon the Egyptian began asking him all sorts of +questions about the projected voyage of the Rose--a good many of which, +Will confessed, he had answered before he saw the fellow's drift; +after which the Egyptian had offered him a vast sum of money to do some +desperate villainy; but whether it was to murder Amyas or the queen, +whether to bore a hole in the bottom of the good ship Rose or to set the +Torridge on fire by art-magic, he was too drunk to recollect exactly. +Whereon Amyas treated three-quarters of the story as a tipsy dream, +and contented himself by getting a warrant against the landlady for +harboring “Egyptians,” which was then a heavy offence--a gipsy disguise +being a favorite one with Jesuits and their emissaries. She of course +denied that any gipsy had been there; and though there were some who +thought they had seen such a man come in, none had seen him go out +again. On which Amyas took occasion to ask, what had become of the +suspicious Popish ostler whom he had seen at the Mariners' Rest three +years before; and discovered, to his surprise, that the said ostler +had vanished from the very day of Don Guzman's departure from Bideford. +There was evidently a mystery somewhere: but nothing could be proved; +the landlady was dismissed with a reprimand, and Amyas soon forgot the +whole matter, after rating Parracombe soundly. After all, he could not +have told the gipsy (if one existed) anything important; for the special +destination of the voyage (as was the custom in those times, for fear of +Jesuits playing into the hands of Spain) had been carefully kept secret +among the adventurers themselves, and, except Yeo and Drew, none of the +men had any suspicion that La Guayra was to be their aim. + +And Salvation Yeo? + +Salvation was almost wild for a few days, at the sudden prospect of +going in search of his little maid, and of fighting Spaniards once more +before he died. I will not quote the texts out of Isaiah and the Psalms +with which his mouth was filled from morning to night, for fear of +seeming irreverent in the eyes of a generation which does not believe, +as Yeo believed, that fighting the Spaniards was as really fighting in +God's battle against evil as were the wars of Joshua or David. But the +old man had his practical hint too, and entreated to be sent back to +Plymouth to look for men. + +“There's many a man of the old Pelican, sir, and of Captain Hawkins's +Minion that knows the Indies as well as I, and longs to be back again. +There's Drew, sir, that we left behind (and no better sailing-master for +us in the West-country, and has accounts against the Spaniards, too; for +it was his brother, the Barnstaple man, that was factor aboard of poor +Mr. Andrew Barker, and got clapt into the Inquisition at the Canaries); +you promised him, sir, that night he stood by you on board the Raleigh: +and if you'll be as good as your word, he'll be as good as his; and +bring a score more brave fellows with him.” + +So off went Yeo to Plymouth, and returned with Drew and a score of old +never-strikes. One look at their visages, as Yeo proudly ushered them +into the Ship Tavern, showed Amyas that they were of the metal which he +wanted, and that, with the four North-Devon men who had gone round the +world with him in the Pelican (who all joined in the first week), he had +a reserve-force on which he could depend in utter need; and that utter +need might come he knew as well as any. + +Nor was this all which Yeo had brought; for he had with him a letter +from Sir Francis Drake, full of regrets that he had not seen “his dear +lad” as he went through Plymouth. “But indeed I was up to Dartmoor, +surveying with cross-staff and chain, over my knees in bog for a three +weeks or more. For I have a project to bring down a leat of fair water +from the hill-tops right into Plymouth town, cutting off the heads +of Tavy, Meavy, Wallcomb, and West Dart, and thereby purging Plymouth +harbor from the silt of the mines whereby it has been choked of late +years, and giving pure drink not only to the townsmen, but to the fleets +of the queen's majesty; which if I do, I shall both make some poor +return to God for all His unspeakable mercies, and erect unto myself a +monument better than of brass or marble, not merely honorable to me, but +useful to my countrymen.” * Whereon Frank sent Drake a pretty epigram, +comparing Drake's projected leat to that river of eternal life whereof +the just would drink throughout eternity, and quoting (after the fashion +of those days) John vii. 38; while Amyas took more heed of a practical +appendage to the same letter, which was a list of hints scrawled for +his use by Captain John Hawkins himself, on all sea matters, from +the mounting of ordnance to the use of vitriol against the scurvy, in +default of oranges and “limmons;” all which stood Amyas in good stead +during the ensuing month, while Frank grew more and more proud of his +brother, and more and more humble about himself. + + * This noble monument of Drake's piety and public spirit + still remains in full use. + +For he watched with astonishment how the simple sailor, without genius, +scholarship, or fancy, had gained, by plain honesty, patience, and +common sense, a power over the human heart, and a power over his work, +whatsoever it might be, which Frank could only admire afar off. The men +looked up to him as infallible, prided themselves on forestalling his +wishes, carried out his slightest hint, worked early and late to win +a smile from him; while as for him, no detail escaped him, no drudgery +sickened him, no disappointment angered him, till on the 15th of +November, 1583, dropped down from Bideford Quay to Appledore Pool the +tall ship Rose, with a hundred men on board (for sailors packed close +in those days), beef, pork, biscuit, and good ale (for ale went to sea +always then) in abundance, four culverins on her main deck, her poop and +forecastle well fitted with swivels of every size, and her racks so full +of muskets, calivers, long bows, pikes, and swords, that all agreed so +well-appointed a ship had never sailed “out over Bar.” + +The next day being Sunday, the whole crew received the Communion +together at Northam Church, amid a mighty crowd; and then going on board +again, hove anchor and sailed out over the Bar before a soft east wind, +to the music of sacbut, fife, and drum, with discharge of all ordnance, +great and small, with cheering of young and old from cliff and strand +and quay, and with many a tearful prayer and blessing upon that gallant +bark, and all brave hearts on board. + +And Mrs. Leigh who had kissed her sons for the last time after the +Communion at the altar-steps (and what more fit place for a mother's +kiss?) went to the rocky knoll outside the churchyard wall, and watched +the ship glide out between the yellow denes, and lessen slowly hour by +hour into the boundless West, till her hull sank below the dim horizon, +and her white sails faded away into the gray Atlantic mist, perhaps +forever. + +And Mrs. Leigh gathered her cloak about her, and bowed her head and +worshipped; and then went home to loneliness and prayer. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HOW THEY CAME TO BARBADOS, AND FOUND NO MEN THEREIN + + “The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out; + At one stride comes the dark.” + + COLERIDGE. + +Land! land! land! Yes, there it was, far away to the south and west, +beside the setting sun, a long blue bar between the crimson sea and +golden sky. Land at last, with fresh streams, and cooling fruits, and +free room for cramped and scurvy-weakened limbs. And there, too, might +be gold, and gems, and all the wealth of Ind. Who knew? Why not? The old +world of fact and prose lay thousands of miles behind them, and before +them and around them was the realm of wonder and fable, of boundless +hope and possibility. Sick men crawled up out of their stifling +hammocks; strong men fell on their knees and gave God thanks; and all +eyes and hands were stretched eagerly toward the far blue cloud, fading +as the sun sank down, yet rising higher and broader as the ship rushed +on before the rich trade-wind, which whispered lovingly round brow +and sail, “I am the faithful friend of those who dare!” “Blow freshly, +freshlier yet, thou good trade-wind, of whom it is written that He makes +the winds His angels, ministering breaths to the heirs of His salvation. +Blow freshlier yet, and save, if not me from death, yet her from worse +than death. Blow on, and land me at her feet, to call the lost lamb +home, and die!” + +So murmured Frank to himself, as with straining eyes he gazed upon that +first outlier of the New World which held his all. His cheeks were thin +and wasted, and the hectic spot on each glowed crimson in the crimson +light of the setting sun. A few minutes more, and the rainbows of the +West were gone; emerald and topaz, amethyst and ruby, had faded into +silver-gray; and overhead, through the dark sapphire depths, the Moon +and Venus reigned above the sea. + +“That should be Barbados, your worship,” said Drew, the master; “unless +my reckoning is far out, which, Heaven knows, it has no right to be, +after such a passage, and God be praised.” + +“Barbados? I never heard of it.” + +“Very like, sir: but Yeo and I were here with Captain Drake, and I was +here after, too, with poor Captain Barlow; and there is good harborage +to the south and west of it, I remember.” + +“And neither Spaniard, cannibal, or other evil beast,” said Yeo. “A very +garden of the Lord, sir, hid away in the seas, for an inheritance to +those who love Him. I heard Captain Drake talk of planting it, if ever +he had a chance.” + +“I recollect now,” said Amyas, “some talk between him and poor Sir +Humphrey about an island here. Would God he had gone thither instead of +to Newfoundland!” + +“Nay, then,” said Yeo, “he is in bliss now with the Lord; and you would +not have kept him from that, sir?” + +“He would have waited as willingly as he went, if he could have served +his queen thereby. But what say you, my masters? How can we do better +than to spend a few days here, to get our sick round, before we make the +Main, and set to our work?” + +All approved the counsel except Frank, who was silent. + +“Come, fellow-adventurer,” said Cary, “we must have your voice too.” + +“To my impatience, Will,” said he, aside in a low voice, “there is but +one place on earth, and I am all day longing for wings to fly thither: +but the counsel is right. I approve it.” + +So the verdict was announced, and received with a hearty cheer by the +crew; and long before morning they had run along the southern shore of +the island, and were feeling their way into the bay where Bridgetown now +stands. All eyes were eagerly fixed on the low wooded hills which slept +in the moonlight, spangled by fireflies, with a million dancing stars; +all nostrils drank greedily the fragrant air, which swept from the land, +laden with the scent of a thousand flowers; all ears welcomed, as a +grateful change from the monotonous whisper and lap of the water, the +hum of insects, the snore of the tree-toads, the plaintive notes of the +shore-fowl, which fill a tropic night with noisy life. + +At last she stopped; at last the cable rattled through the hawsehole; +and then, careless of the chance of lurking Spaniard or Carib, an +instinctive cheer burst from every throat. Poor fellows! Amyas had much +ado to prevent them going on shore at once, dark as it was, by reminding +them that it wanted but two hours of day. + +“Never were two such long hours,” said one young lad, fidgeting up and +down. + +“You never were in the Inquisition,” said Yeo, “or you'd know better how +slow time can run. Stand you still, and give God thanks you're where you +are.” + +“I say, Gunner, be there goold to that island?” + +“Never heard of none; and so much the better for it,” said Yeo, dryly. + +“But, I say, Gunner,” said a poor scurvy-stricken cripple, licking his +lips, “be there oranges and limmons there?” + +“Not of my seeing; but plenty of good fruit down to the beach, thank the +Lord. There comes the dawn at last.” + +Up flushed the rose, up rushed the sun, and the level rays glittered on +the smooth stems of the palm-trees, and threw rainbows across the foam +upon the coral-reefs, and gilded lonely uplands far away, where now +stands many a stately country-seat and busy engine-house. Long lines of +pelicans went clanging out to sea; the hum of the insects hushed, and a +thousand birds burst into jubilant song; a thin blue mist crept upward +toward the inner downs, and vanished, leaving them to quiver in the +burning glare; the land-breeze, which had blown fresh out to sea all +night, died away into glassy calm, and the tropic day was begun. + +The sick were lifted over the side, and landed boat-load after boat-load +on the beach, to stretch themselves in the shade of the palms; and in +half-an-hour the whole crew were scattered on the shore, except some +dozen worthy men, who had volunteered to keep watch and ward on board +till noon. + +And now the first instinctive cry of nature was for fruit! fruit! fruit! +The poor lame wretches crawled from place to place plucking greedily the +violet grapes of the creeping shore vine, and staining their mouths +and blistering their lips with the prickly pears, in spite of Yeo's +entreaties and warnings against the thorns. Some of the healthy began +hewing down cocoa-nut trees to get at the nuts, doing little thereby but +blunt their hatchets; till Yeo and Drew, having mustered half-a-dozen +reasonable men, went off inland, and returned in an hour laden with the +dainties of that primeval orchard,--with acid junipa-apples, luscious +guavas, and crowned ananas, queen of all the fruits, which they had +found by hundreds on the broiling ledges of the low tufa-cliffs; +and then all, sitting on the sandy turf, defiant of galliwasps and +jackspaniards, and all the weapons of the insect host, partook of the +equal banquet, while old blue land-crabs sat in their house-doors and +brandished their fists in defiance at the invaders, and solemn cranes +stood in the water on the shoals with their heads on one side, and +meditated how long it was since they had seen bipeds without feathers +breaking the solitude of their isle. + +And Frank wandered up and down, silent, but rather in wonder than +in sadness, while great Amyas walked after him, his mouth full +of junipa-apples, and enacted the part of showman, with a sort of +patronizing air, as one who had seen the wonders already, and was above +being astonished at them. + +“New, new; everything new!” said Frank, meditatively. “Oh, awful +feeling! All things changed around us, even to the tiniest fly and +flower; yet we the same, the same forever!” + +Amyas, to whom such utterances were altogether sibylline and +unintelligible, answered by: + +“Look, Frank, that's a colibri. You 've heard of colibris?” + +Frank looked at the living gem, which hung, loud humming, over some +fantastic bloom, and then dashed away, seemingly to call its mate, and +whirred and danced with it round and round the flower-starred bushes, +flashing fresh rainbows at every shifting of the lights. + +Frank watched solemnly awhile, and then: + +“Qualis Natura formatrix, si talis formata? Oh my God, how fair must be +Thy real world, if even Thy phantoms are so fair!” + +“Phantoms?” asked Amyas, uneasily. “That's no ghost, Frank, but a jolly +little honey-sucker, with a wee wife, and children no bigger than peas, +but yet solid greedy little fellows enough, I'll warrant.” + +“Not phantoms in thy sense, good fellow, but in the sense of those who +know the worthlessness of all below.” + +“I'll tell you what, brother Frank, you are a great deal wiser than me, +I know; but I can't abide to see you turn up your nose as it were at +God's good earth. See now, God made all these things; and never a man, +perhaps, set eyes on them till fifty years agone; and yet they were as +pretty as they are now, ever since the making of the world. And why +do you think God could have put them here, then, but to please +Himself”--and Amyas took off his hat--“with the sight of them? Now, I +say, brother Frank, what's good enough to please God, is good enough to +please you and me.” + +“Your rebuke is just, dear old simple-hearted fellow; and God forgive +me, if with all my learning, which has brought me no profit, and my +longings, which have brought me no peace, I presume at moments, sinner +that I am, to be more dainty than the Lord Himself. He walked in +Paradise among the trees of the garden, Amyas; and so will we, and +be content with what He sends. Why should we long for the next world, +before we are fit even for this one?” + +“And in the meanwhile,” said Amyas, “this earth's quite good enough, at +least here in Barbados.” + +“Do you believe,” asked Frank, trying to turn his own thoughts, “in +those tales of the Spaniards, that the Sirens and Tritons are heard +singing in these seas?” + +“I can't tell. There's more fish in the water than ever came out of it, +and more wonders in the world, I'll warrant, than we ever dreamt of; but +I was never in these parts before; and in the South Sea, I must say, I +never came across any, though Yeo says he has heard fair music at night +up in the Gulf, far away from land.” + +“The Spaniards report that at certain seasons choirs of these nymphs +assemble in the sea, and with ravishing music sing their watery loves. +It may be so. For Nature, which has peopled the land with rational +souls, may not have left the sea altogether barren of them; above all, +when we remember that the ocean is as it were the very fount of all +fertility, and its slime (as the most learned hold with Thales of +Miletus) that prima materia out of which all things were one by one +concocted. Therefore, the ancients feigned wisely that Venus, the mother +of all living things, whereby they designed the plastic force of nature, +was born of the sea-foam, and rising from the deep, floated ashore upon +the isles of Greece.” + +“I don't know what plastic force is; but I wish I had had the luck to be +by when the pretty poppet came up: however, the nearest thing I ever saw +to that was maidens swimming alongside of us when we were in the South +Seas, and would have come aboard, too; but Drake sent them all off again +for a lot of naughty packs, and I verily believe they were no better. +Look at the butterflies, now! Don't you wish you were a boy again, and +not too proud to go catching them in your cap?” + +And so the two wandered on together through the glorious tropic woods, +and then returned to the beach to find the sick already grown cheerful, +and many who that morning could not stir from their hammocks, pacing up +and down, and gaining strength with every step. + +“Well done, lads!” cried Amyas, “keep a cheerful mind. We will have the +music ashore after dinner, for want of mermaids to sing to us, and those +that can dance may.” + +And so those four days were spent; and the men, like schoolboys on +a holiday, gave themselves up to simple merriment, not forgetting, +however, to wash the clothes, take in fresh water, and store up a +good supply of such fruit as seemed likely to keep; until, tired with +fruitless rambles after gold, which they expected to find in every bush, +in spite of Yeo's warnings that none had been heard of on the island, +they were fain to lounge about, full-grown babies, picking up shells and +sea-fans to take home to their sweethearts, smoking agoutis out of the +hollow trees, with shout and laughter, and tormenting every living thing +they could come near, till not a land-crab dare look out of his hole, or +an armadillo unroll himself, till they were safe out of the bay, and +off again to the westward, unconscious pioneers of all the wealth, and +commerce, and beauty, and science which has in later centuries made that +lovely isle the richest gem of all the tropic seas. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +HOW THEY TOOK THE PEARLS AT MARGARITA + + P. Henry. Why, what a rascal art thou, then, to praise him so for + running! + Falstaff. O' horseback, ye cuckoo! but a-foot, he will not budge a + foot. + P. Henry. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. + Falstaff. I grant ye, upon instinct. + + Henry IV. Pt. I. + +They had slipped past the southern point of Grenada in the night, and +were at last within that fairy ring of islands, on which nature had +concentrated all her beauty, and man all his sin. If Barbados had been +invested in the eyes of the newcomers with some strange glory, how much +more the seas on which they now entered, which smile in almost perpetual +calm, untouched by the hurricane which roars past them far to northward! +Sky, sea, and islands were one vast rainbow; though little marked, +perhaps, by those sturdy practical sailors, whose main thought was of +Spanish gold and pearls; and as little by Amyas, who, accustomed to the +scenery of the tropics, was speculating inwardly on the possibility of +extirpating the Spaniards, and annexing the West Indies to the domains +of Queen Elizabeth. And yet even their unpoetic eyes could not behold +without awe and excitement lands so famous and yet so new, around +which all the wonder, all the pity, and all the greed of the age had +concentrated itself. It was an awful thought, and yet inspiriting, that +they were entering regions all but unknown to Englishmen, where the +penalty of failure would be worse than death--the torments of the +Inquisition. Not more than five times before, perhaps, had those +mysterious seas been visited by English keels; but there were those +on board who knew them well, and too well; who, first of all British +mariners, had attempted under Captain John Hawkins to trade along those +very coasts, and, interdicted from the necessaries of life by Spanish +jealousy, had, in true English fashion, won their markets at the sword's +point, and then bought and sold honestly and peaceably therein. The old +mariners of the Pelican and the Minion were questioned all day long for +the names of every isle and cape, every fish and bird; while Frank stood +by, listening serious and silent. + +A great awe seemed to have possessed his soul; yet not a sad one: for +his face seemed daily to drink in glory from the glory round him; and +murmuring to himself at whiles, “This is the gate of heaven,” he stood +watching all day long, careless of food and rest, as every forward +plunge of the ship displayed some fresh wonder. Islands and capes hung +high in air, with their inverted images below them; long sand-hills +rolled and weltered in the mirage; and the yellow flower-beds, and huge +thorny cacti like giant candelabra, which clothed the glaring slopes, +twisted, tossed, and flickered, till the whole scene seemed one blazing +phantom-world, in which everything was as unstable as it was fantastic, +even to the sun itself, distorted into strange oval and pear-shaped +figures by the beds of crimson mist through which he sank to rest. But +while Frank wondered, Yeo rejoiced; for to the southward of that setting +sun a cluster of tall peaks rose from the sea; and they, unless his +reckonings were wrong, were the mountains of Macanao, at the western end +of Margarita, the Isle of Pearls, then famous in all the cities of +the Mediterranean, and at the great German fairs, and second only in +richness to that pearl island in the gulf of Panama, which fifteen years +before had cost John Oxenham his life. + +The next day saw them running along the north side of the island, having +passed undiscovered (as far as they could see) the castle which the +Spaniards had built at the eastern end for the protection of the pearl +fisheries. + +At last they opened a deep and still bight, wooded to the water's edge; +and lying in the roadstead a caravel, and three boats by her. And at +that sight there was not a man but was on deck at once, and not a mouth +but was giving its opinion of what should be done. Some were for sailing +right into the roadstead, the breeze blowing fresh toward the shore (as +it usually does throughout those islands in the afternoon). However, +seeing the billows break here and there off the bay's mouth, they +thought it better, for fear of rocks, to run by quietly, and then +send in the pinnace and the boat. Yeo would have had them show Spanish +colors, for fear of alarming the caravel; but Amyas stoutly refused, +“counting it,” he said, “a mean thing to tell a lie in that way, unless +in extreme danger, or for great ends of state.” + +So holding on their course till they were shut out by the next point, +they started; Cary in the largest boat with twenty men, and Amyas in +the smaller one with fifteen more; among whom was John Brimblecombe, +who must needs come in his cassock and bands, with an old sword of his +uncle's which he prized mightily. + +When they came to the bight's mouth, they found, as they had expected, +coral rocks, and too many of them; so that they had to run along the +edge of the reef a long way before they could find a passage for the +boats. While they were so doing, and those of them who were new to the +Indies were admiring through the clear element those living flower-beds, +and subaqueous gardens of Nereus and Amphitrite, there suddenly appeared +below what Yeo called “a school of sharks,” some of them nearly as long +as the boat, who looked up at them wistfully enough out of their wicked +scowling eyes. + +“Jack,” said Amyas, who sat next to him, “look how that big fellow +eyes thee: he has surely taken a fancy to that plump hide of thine, and +thinks thou wouldst eat as tender as any sucking porker.” + +Jack turned very pale, but said nothing. + +Now, as it befell, just then that very big fellow, seeing a parrot-fish +come out of a cleft of the coral, made at him from below, as did two or +three more; the poor fish finding no other escape, leaped clean into the +air, and almost aboard the boat; while just where he had come out of +the water, three or four great brown shagreened noses clashed together +within two yards of Jack as he sat, each showing its horrible rows of +saw teeth, and then sank sulkily down again, to watch for a fresh bait. +At which Jack said very softly, “In manus tuas, Domine!” and turning his +eyes in board, had no lust to look at sharks any more. + +So having got through the reef, in they ran with a fair breeze, the +caravel not being now a musket-shot off. Cary laid her aboard before +the Spaniards had time to get to their ordnance; and standing up in the +stern-sheets, shouted to them to yield. The captain asked boldly enough, +in whose name? “In the name of common sense, ye dogs,” cries Will; “do +you not see that you are but fifty strong to our twenty?” Whereon up the +side he scrambled, and the captain fired a pistol at him. Cary knocked +him over, unwilling to shed needless blood; on which all the crew +yielded, some falling on their knees, some leaping overboard; and the +prize was taken. + +In the meanwhile, Amyas had pulled round under her stern, and boarded +the boat which was second from her, for the nearest was fast alongside, +and so a sure prize. The Spaniards in her yielded without a blow, crying +“Misericordia;” and the negroes, leaping overboard, swam ashore like +sea-dogs. Meanwhile, the third boat, which was not an oar's length +off, turned to pull away. Whereby befell a notable adventure: for John +Brimblecombe, casting about in a valiant mind how he should distinguish +himself that day, must needs catch up a boat-hook, and claw on to her +stern, shouting, “Stay, ye Papists! Stay, Spanish dogs!”--by which, as +was to be expected, they being ten to his one, he was forthwith pulled +overboard, and fell all along on his nose in the sea, leaving the hook +fast in her stern. + +Where, I know not how, being seized with some panic fear (his lively +imagination filling all the sea with those sharks which he had just +seen), he fell a-roaring like any town-bull, and in his confusion never +thought to turn and get aboard again, but struck out lustily after the +Spanish boat, whether in hope of catching hold of the boat-hook which +trailed behind her, or from a very madness of valor, no man could +divine; but on he swam, his cassock afloat behind him, looking for all +the world like a great black monk-fish, and howling and puffing, with +his mouth full of salt water, “Stay, ye Spanish dogs! Help, all good +fellows! See you not that I am a dead man? They are nuzzling already at +my toes! He hath hold of my leg! My right thigh is bitten clean off! +Oh that I were preaching in Hartland pulpit! Stay, Spanish dogs! Yield, +Papist cowards, least I make mincemeat of you; and take me aboard! +Yield, I say, or my blood be on your heads! I am no Jonah; if he swallow +me, he will never cast me up again! it is better to fall into the hands +of man, than into the hands of devils with three rows of teeth apiece. +In manus tuas. Orate pro anima--!” + +And so forth, in more frantic case than ever was Panurge in that his +ever-memorable seasickness; till the English, expecting him every minute +to be snapped up by sharks, or brained by the Spaniard's oars, let fly a +volley into the fugitives, on which they all leaped overboard like their +fellows; whereon Jack scrambled into the boat, and drawing sword with +one hand, while he wiped the water out of his eyes with the other, began +to lay about him like a very lion, cutting the empty air, and crying, +“Yield, idolaters! Yield, Spanish dogs!” However, coming to himself +after a while, and seeing that there was no one on whom to flesh his +maiden steel, he sits down panting in the sternsheets, and begins +stripping off his hose. On which Amyas, thinking surely that the good +fellow had gone mad with some stroke of the sun, or by having fallen +into the sea after being overheated with his rowing, bade pull +alongside, and asked him in heaven's name what he was doing with his +nether tackle. On which Jack, amid such laughter as may be conceived, +vowed and swore that his right thigh was bitten clean through, and to +the bone; yea, and that he felt his hose full of blood; and so would +have swooned away for imaginary loss of blood (so strong was the +delusion on him) had not his friends, after much arguing on their part, +and anger on his, persuaded him that he was whole and sound. + +After which they set to work to overhaul their maiden prize, which they +found full of hides and salt-pork; and yet not of that alone; for in +the captain's cabin, and also in the sternsheets of the boat which +Brimblecombe had so valorously boarded, were certain frails of leaves +packed neatly enough, which being opened were full of goodly pearls, +though somewhat brown (for the Spaniards used to damage the color in +their haste and greediness, opening the shells by fire, instead of +leaving them to decay gradually after the Arabian fashion); with which +prize, though they could not guess its value very exactly, they went off +content enough, after some malicious fellow had set the ship on fire, +which, being laden with hides, was no nosegay as it burnt. + +Amyas was very angry at this wanton damage, in which his model, +Drake, had never indulged; but Cary had his jest ready. “Ah!” said he, +“'Lutheran devils' we are, you know; so we are bound to vanish, like +other fiends, with an evil savor.” + +As soon, however, as Amyas was on board again, he rounded his friend +Mr. Brimblecombe in the ear, and told him he had better play the man a +little more, roaring less before he was hurt, and keeping his breath +to help his strokes, if he wished the crew to listen much to his +discourses. Frank, hearing this, bade Amyas leave the offender to him, +and so began upon him with-- + +“Come hither, thou recreant Jack, thou lily-livered Jack, thou +hysterical Jack. Tell me now, thou hast read Plato's Dialogues, and +Aristotle's Logic?” + +To which Jack very meekly answered, “Yes.” + +“Then I will deal with thee after the manner of those ancient sages, and +ask whether the greater must not contain the less?” + +Jack. Yes, sure. + +Frank. And that which is more than a part, contain that part, more than +which it is? + +Jack. Yes, sure. + +Frank. Then tell me, is not a priest more than a layman? + +Jack (who was always very loud about the dignity of the priesthood, +as many of his cloth are, who have no other dignity whereon to stand) +answered very boldly, “Of course.” + +Frank. Then a priest containeth a man, and is a man, and something +over--viz, his priesthood? + +Jack (who saw whither this would lead). I suppose so. + +Frank. Then, if a priest show himself no man, he shows himself all the +more no priest? + +“I'll tell you what, Master Frank,” says Jack, “you may be right by +logic; but sharks aren't logic, nor don't understand it neither.” + +Frank. Nay but, my recalcitrant Jack, my stiff-necked Jack, is it the +part of a man to howl like a pig in a gate, because he thinks that is +there which is not there? + +Jack had not a word to say. + +Frank. And still more, when if that had been there, it had been the duty +of a brave man to have kept his mouth shut, if only to keep salt water +out, and not add the evil of choking to that of being eaten? + +“Ah!” says Jack, “that's all very fine; but you know as well as I that +it was not the Spaniards I was afraid of. They were Heaven's handiwork, +and I knew how to deal with them; but as for those fiends' spawn of +sharks, when I saw that fellow take the fish alongside, it upset me +clean, and there's an end of it!” + +Frank. Oh, Jack, Jack, behold how one sin begets another! Just now thou +wert but a coward, and now thou art a Manichee. For thou hast imputed +to an evil creator that which was formed only for a good end, namely, +sharks, which were made on purpose to devour useless carcasses like +thine. Moreover, as a brother of the Rose, thou wert bound by the vow of +thy brotherhood to have leaped joyfully down that shark's mouth. + +Jack. Ay, very likely, if Mistress Rose had been in his stomach; but I +wanted to fight Spaniards just then, not to be shark-bitten. + +Frank. Jack, thy answer savors of self-will. If it is ordained that thou +shouldst advance the ends of the Brotherhood by being shark-bitten, +or flea-bitten, or bitten by sharpers, to the detriment of thy carnal +wealth, or, shortly, to suffer any shame or torment whatsoever, even to +strappado and scarpines, thou art bound to obey thy destiny, and not, +after that vain Roman conceit, to choose the manner of thine own death, +which is indeed only another sort of self-murder. We therefore consider +thee as a cause of scandal, and a rotten and creaking branch, to be +excised by the spiritual arm, and do hereby excise thee, and cut thee +off. + +Jack. Nay faith, that's a little too much, Master Frank. How long have +you been Bishop of Exeter? + +Frank. Jack, thy wit being blinded, and full of gross vapors, by reason +of the perturbations of fear (which, like anger, is a short madness, +and raises in the phantasy vain spectres,--videlicet, of sharks and +Spaniards), mistakes our lucidity. For thy Manicheeism, let his lordship +of Exeter deal with it. For thy abominable howling and caterwauling, +offensive in a chained cur, but scandalous in a preacher and a brother +of the Rose, we do hereby deprive thee of thine office of chaplain to +the Brotherhood; and warn thee, that unless within seven days thou do +some deed equal to the Seven Champions, or Ruggiero and Orlando's self, +thou shalt be deprived of sword and dagger, and allowed henceforth to +carry no more iron about thee than will serve to mend thy pen. + +“And now, Jack,” said Amyas, “I will give thee a piece of news. No +wonder that young men, as the parsons complain so loudly, will not +listen to the Gospel, while it is preached to them by men on whom they +cannot but look down; a set of softhanded fellows who cannot dig, and +are ashamed to beg; and, as my brother has it, must needs be parsons +before they are men. + +“Frank. Ay, and even though we may excuse that in Popish priests and +friars, who are vowed not to be men, and get their bread shamefully +and rascally by telling sinners who owe a hundred measures to sit down +quickly and take their bill and write fifty: yet for a priest of the +Church of England (whose business is not merely to smuggle sinful souls +up the backstairs into heaven, but to make men good Christians by making +them good men, good gentlemen, and good Englishmen) to show the white +feather in the hour of need, is to unpreach in one minute all that he +had been preaching his life long. + +“I tell thee,” says Amyas, “if I had not taken thee for another guess +sort of man, I had never let thee have the care of a hundred brave lads' +immortal souls--” + +And so on, both of them boarding him at once with their heavy shot, +larboard and starboard, till he fairly clapped his hands to his ears +and ran for it, leaving poor Frank laughing so heartily, that Amyas was +after all glad the thing had happened, for the sake of the smile which +it put into his sad and steadfast countenance. + +The next day was Sunday; on which, after divine service (which they +could hardly persuade Jack to read, so shamefaced was he; and as for +preaching after it, he would not hear of such a thing), Amyas read +aloud, according to custom, the articles of their agreement; and then +seeing abreast of them a sloping beach with a shoot of clear water +running into the sea, agreed that they should land there, wash the +clothes, and again water the ship; for they had found water somewhat +scarce at Barbados. On this party Jack Brimblecombe must needs go, +taking with him his sword and a great arquebuse; for he had dreamed last +night (he said) that he was set upon by Spaniards, and was sure that the +dream would come true; and moreover, that he did not very much care if +they did, or if he ever got back alive; “for it was better to die than +be made an ape, and a scarecrow, and laughed at by the men, and badgered +with Ramus his logic, and Plato his dialectical devilries, to confess +himself a Manichee, and, for aught he knew, a turbaned Turk, or Hebrew +Jew,” and so flung into the boat like a man desperate. + +So they went ashore, after Amyas had given strict commands against +letting off firearms, for fear of alarming the Spaniards. There they +washed their clothes, and stretched their legs with great joy, admiring +the beauty of the place, and then began to shoot the seine which they +had brought on shore with them. “In which,” says the chronicler, “we +caught many strange fishes, and beside them, a sea-cow full seven feet +long, with limpets and barnacles on her back, as if she had been a stick +of drift-timber. This is a fond and foolish beast: and yet pious withal; +for finding a corpse, she watches over it day and night until it decay +or be buried. The Indians call her manati; who carries her young +under her arm, and gives it suck like a woman; and being wounded, she +lamenteth aloud with a human voice, and is said at certain seasons to +sing very melodiously; which melody, perhaps, having been heard in those +seas, is that which Mr. Frank reported to be the choirs of the Sirens +and Tritons. The which I do not avouch for truth, neither rashly deny, +having seen myself such fertility of Nature's wonders that I hold him +who denieth aught merely for its strangeness to be a ribald and an +ignoramus. Also one of our men brought in two great black fowls which +he had shot with a crossbow, bodied and headed like a capon, but bigger +than any eagle, which the Spaniards call curassos; which, with that +sea-cow, afterwards made us good cheer, both roast and sodden, for the +cow was very dainty meat, as good as a four-months' calf, and tender and +fat withal.” + +After that they set to work filling the casks and barricos, having laid +the boat up to the outflow of the rivulet. And lucky for them it was, +as it fell out, that they were all close together at that work, and not +abroad skylarking as they had been half-an-hour before. + +Now John Brimblecombe had gone apart as soon as they landed, with a +shamefaced and doleful countenance; and sitting down under a great tree, +plucked a Bible from his bosom, and read steadfastly, girded with his +great sword, and his arquebuse lying by him. This too was well for him, +and for the rest; for they had not yet finished their watering, when +there was a cry that the enemy was on them; and out of the wood, +not twenty yards from the good parson, came full fifty shot, with a +multitude of negroes behind them, and an officer in front on horseback, +with a great plume of feathers in his hat, and his sword drawn in his +hand. + +“Stand, for your lives!” shouted Amyas: and only just in time; for there +was ten good minutes lost in running up and down before he could get his +men into some order of battle. But when Jack beheld the Spaniards, as if +he had expected their coming, he plucked a leaf and put it into the +page of his book for a mark, laid the book down soberly, caught up his +arquebuse, ran like a mad dog right at the Spanish captain, shot him +through the body stark dead, and then, flinging the arquebuse at the +head of him who stood next, fell on with his sword like a very Colbrand, +breaking in among the arquebuses, and striking right and left such ugly +strokes, that the Spaniards (who thought him a very fiend, or Luther's +self come to life to plague them) gave back pell-mell, and shot at him +five or six at once with their arquebuses: but whether from fear of him, +or of wounding each other, made so bad play with their pieces, that he +only got one shrewd gall in his thigh, which made him limp for many a +day. But as fast as they gave back he came on; and the rest by this time +ran up in good order, and altogether nearly forty men well armed. On +which the Spaniards turned, and went as fast as they had come, while +Cary hinted that, “The dogs had had such a taste of the parson, that +they had no mind to wait for the clerk and people.” + +“Come back, Jack! are you mad?” shouted Amyas. + +But Jack (who had not all this time spoken one word) followed them +as fiercely as ever, till, reaching a great blow at one of the +arquebusiers, he caught his foot in a root; on which down he went, and +striking his head against the ground, knocked out of himself all the +breath he had left (which between fatness and fighting was not much), +and so lay. Amyas, seeing the Spaniards gone, did not care to pursue +them: but picked up Jack, who, staring about, cried, “Glory be! glory +be!--How many have I killed? How many have I killed?” + +“Nineteen, at the least,” quoth Cary, “and seven with one back +stroke;” and then showed Brimblecombe the captain lying dead, and two +arquebusiers, one of which was the fugitive by whom he came to his fall, +beside three or four more who were limping away wounded, some of them by +their fellows' shot. + +“There!” said Jack, pausing and blowing, “will you laugh at me any more, +Mr. Cary; or say that I cannot fight, because I am a poor parson's son?” + +Cary took him by the hand, and asked pardon of him for his scoffing, +saying that he had that day played the best man of all of them; and +Jack, who never bore malice, began laughing in his turn, and-- + +“Oh, Mr. Cary, we have all known your pleasant ways, ever since you used +to put drumble-drones into my desk to Bideford school.” And so they went +to the boats, and pulled off, thanking God (as they had need to do) for +their great deliverance: while all the boats' crew rejoiced over Jack, +who after a while grew very faint (having bled a good deal without +knowing it), and made as little of his real wound as he made much the +day before of his imaginary one. + +Frank asked him that evening how he came to show so cool and approved a +valor in so sudden a mishap. + +“Well, my masters,” said Jack, “I don't deny that I was very downcast on +account of what you said, and the scandal which I had given to the crew; +but as it happened, I was reading there under the tree, to fortify my +spirits, the history of the ancient worthies, in St. Paul his eleventh +chapter to the Hebrews; and just as I came to that, 'out of weakness +were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies +of the aliens,' arose the cry of the Spaniards. At which, gentlemen, +thinking in myself that I fought in just so good a cause as they, and, +as I hoped, with like faith, there came upon me so strange an assurance +of victory, that I verily believed in myself that if there had been +a ten thousand of them, I should have taken no hurt. Wherefore,” said +Jack, modestly, “there is no credit due to me, for there was no valor +in me whatsoever, but only a certainty of safety; and any coward would +fight if he knew that he were to have all the killing and none of the +scratches.” + +Which words he next day, being Sunday, repeated in his sermon which he +made on that chapter, with which all, even Salvation Yeo himself, were +well content and edified, and allowed him to be as godly a preacher as +he was (in spite of his simple ways) a valiant and true-hearted comrade. + +They brought away the Spanish officer's sword (a very good blade), and +also a great chain of gold which he wore about his neck; both of which +were allotted to Brimblecombe as his fair prize; but he, accepting the +sword, steadfastly refused the chain, entreating Amyas to put it into +the common stock; and when Amyas refused, he cut it into links and +distributed it among those of the boat's crew who had succored him, +winning thereby much good-will. “And indeed” (says the chronicler), +“I never saw in that worthy man, from the first day of our +school-fellowship till he was laid in his parish church of Hartland +(where he now sleeps in peace), any touch of that sin of covetousness +which has in all ages, and in ours no less than others, beset especially +(I know not why) them who minister about the sanctuary. But this man, +though he was ugly and lowly in person, and in understanding simple, and +of breeding but a poor parson's son, had yet in him a spirit so loving +and cheerful, so lifted from base and selfish purposes to the worship +of duty, and to a generosity rather knightly than sacerdotal, that all +through his life he seemed to think only that it was more blessed to +give than to receive. And all that wealth which he gained in the wars he +dispersed among his sisters and the poor of his parish, living unmarried +till his death like a true lover and constant mourner (as shall be said +in place), and leaving hardly wherewith to bring his body to the +grave. At whom if we often laughed once, we should now rather envy him, +desiring to be here what he was, that we may be hereafter where he is. +Amen.” + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WHAT BEFELL AT LA GUAYRA + + “Great was the crying, the running and riding, + Which at that season was made in the place; + The beacons were fired, as need then required, + To save their great treasure they had little space.” + + Winning of Cales. + +The men would gladly have hawked awhile round Margarita and Cubagua for +another pearl prize. But Amyas having, as he phrased it, “fleshed his +dogs,” was loth to hang about the islands after the alarm had been +given. They ran, therefore, south-west across the mouth of that great +bay which stretches from the Peninsula of Paria to Cape Codera, leaving +on their right hand Tortuga, and on their left the meadow-islands of the +Piritoos, two long green lines but a few inches above the tideless sea. +Yeo and Drew knew every foot of the way, and had good reason to know it; +for they, the first of all English mariners, had tried to trade along +this coast with Hawkins. And now, right ahead, sheer out of the sea from +base to peak, arose higher and higher the mighty range of the Caracas +mountains; beside which all hills which most of the crew had ever seen +seemed petty mounds. Frank, of course, knew the Alps; and Amyas the +Andes; but Cary's notions of height were bounded by M'Gillicuddy's +Reeks, and Brimblecombe's by Exmoor; and the latter, to Cary's infinite +amusement, spent a whole day holding on by the rigging, and staring +upwards with his chin higher than his nose, till he got a stiff neck. +Soon the sea became rough and chopping, though the breeze was fair and +gentle; and ere they were abreast of the Cape, they became aware of +that strong eastward current which, during the winter months, so often +baffles the mariner who wishes to go to the westward. All night long +they struggled through the billows, with the huge wall of Cape Codera a +thousand feet above their heads to the left, and beyond it again, bank +upon bank of mountain, bathed in the yellow moonlight. + +Morning showed them a large ship, which had passed them during the night +upon the opposite course, and was now a good ten miles to the eastward. +Yeo was for going back and taking her. Of the latter he made a matter of +course; and the former was easy enough, for the breeze blowing dead off +the land, was a “soldier's wind, there and back again,” for either ship; +but Amyas and Frank were both unwilling. + +“Why, Yeo, you said that one day more would bring us to La Guayra.” + +“All the more reason, sir, for doing the Lord's work thoroughly, when He +has brought us safely so far on our journey.” + +“She can pass well enough, and no loss.” + +“Ah, sirs, sirs, she is delivered into your hands, and you will have to +give an account of her.” + +“My good Yeo,” said Frank, “I trust we shall give good account enough +of many a tall Spaniard before we return: but you know surely that La +Guayra, and the salvation of one whom we believe dwells there, was our +first object in this adventure.” + +Yeo shook his head sadly. “Ah, sirs, a lady brought Captain Oxenham to +ruin.” + +“You do not dare to compare her with this one?” said Frank and Cary, +both in a breath. + +“God forbid, gentlemen: but no adventure will prosper, unless there is a +single eye to the Lord's work; and that is, as I take it, to cripple +the Spaniard, and exalt her majesty the queen. And I had thought that +nothing was more dear than that to Captain Leigh's heart.” + +Amyas stood somewhat irresolute. His duty to the queen bade him follow +the Spanish vessel: his duty to his vow, to go on to La Guayra. It may +seem a far-fetched dilemma. He found it a practical one enough. + +However, the counsel of Frank prevailed, and on to La Guayra he went. He +half hoped that the Spaniard would see and attack them. However, he went +on his way to the eastward; which if he had not done, my story had had a +very different ending. + +About mid-day a canoe, the first which they had seen, came staggering +toward them under a huge three-cornered sail. As it came near, they +could see two Indians on board. + +“Metal floats in these seas, you see,” quoth Cary. “There's a fresh +marvel, for you, Frank.” + +“Expound,” quoth Frank, who was really ready to swallow any fresh +marvel, so many had he seen already. + +“Why, how else would those two bronze statues dare to go to sea in such +a cockleshell, eh? Have I given you the dor now, master courtier!” + +“I am long past dors, Will. But what noble creatures they are! and how +fearlessly they are coming alongside! Can they know that we are English, +and the avengers of the Indians?” + +“I suspect they just take us for Spaniards, and want to sell their +cocoa-nuts. See, the canoe is laden with vegetables.” + +“Hail them, Yeo!” said Amyas. “You talk the best Spanish, and I want +speech of one of them.” + +Yeo did so; the canoe, without more ado, ran alongside, and lowered her +felucca sail, while a splendid Indian scrambled on board like a cat. + +He was full six feet high, and as bold and graceful of bearing as Frank +or Amyas's self. He looked round for the first moment smilingly, showing +his white teeth; but the next, his countenance changed; and springing to +the side, he shouted to his comrade in Spanish-- + +“Treachery! No Spaniard,” and would have leaped overboard, but a dozen +strong fellows caught him ere he could do so. + +It required some trouble to master him, so strong was he, and so +slippery his naked limbs; Amyas, meanwhile, alternately entreated the +men not to hurt the Indian, and the Indian to be quiet, and no harm +should happen to him; and so, after five minutes' confusion, the +stranger gave in sulkily. + +“Don't bind him. Let him loose, and make a ring round him. Now, my man, +there's a dollar for you.” + +The Indian's eyes glistened, and he took the coin. + +“All I want of you is, first, to tell me what ships are in La Guayra, +and next, to go thither on board of me, and show me which is the +governor's house, and which the custom-house.” + +The Indian laid the coin down on the deck, and crossing himself, looked +Amyas in the face. + +“No, senor! I am a freeman and a cavalier, a Christian Guayqueria, +whose forefathers, first of all the Indians, swore fealty to the King of +Spain, and whom he calls to this day in all his proclamations his most +faithful, loyal, and noble Guayquerias. God forbid, therefore, that I +should tell aught to his enemies, who are my enemies likewise.” + +A growl arose from those of the men who understood him; and more than +one hinted that a cord twined round the head, or a match put between the +fingers, would speedily extract the required information. + +“God forbid!” said Amyas; “a brave and loyal man he is, and as such +will I treat him. Tell me, my brave fellow, how do you know us to be his +Catholic majesty's enemies?” + +The Indian, with a shrewd smile, pointed to half-a-dozen different +objects, saying to each, “Not Spanish.” + +“Well, and what of that?” + +“None but Spaniards and free Guayquerias have a right to sail these +seas.” + +Amyas laughed. + +“Thou art a right valiant bit of copper. Pick up thy dollar, and go thy +way in peace. Make room for him, men. We can learn what we want without +his help.” + +The Indian paused, incredulous and astonished. “Overboard with you!” + quoth Amyas. “Don't you know when you are well off?” + +“Most illustrious senor,” began the Indian, in the drawling sententious +fashion of his race (when they take the trouble to talk at all), “I +have been deceived. I heard that you heretics roasted and ate all true +Catholics (as we Guayquerias are), and that all your padres had tails.” + +“Plague on you, sirrah!” squeaked Jack Brimblecombe. “Have I a tail? +Look here!” + +“Quien sabe? Who knows?” quoth the Indian through his nose. + +“How do you know we are heretics?” said Amyas. + +“Humph! But in repayment for your kindness, I would warn you, +illustrious senor, not to go on to La Guayra. There are ships of war +there waiting for you; and moreover, the governor Don Guzman sailed to +the eastward only yesterday to look for you; and I wonder much that you +did not meet him.” + +“To look for us! On the watch for us!” said Cary. “Impossible; lies! +Amyas, this is some trick of the rascal's to frighten us away.” + +“Don Guzman came out but yesterday to look for us? Are you sure you +spoke truth?” + +“As I live, senor, he and another ship, for which I took yours.” + +Amyas stamped upon the deck: that then was the ship which they had +passed! + +“Fool that I was to have been close to my enemy, and let my opportunity +slip! If I had but done my duty, all would have gone right!” + +But it was too late to repine; and after all, the Indian's story was +likely enough to be false. + +“Off with you!” said he; and the Indian bounded over the side into his +canoe, leaving the whole crew wondering at the stateliness and courtesy +of this bold sea-cavalier. + +So Westward-ho they ran, beneath the mighty northern wall, the highest +cliff on earth, some seven thousand feet of rock parted from the sea +by a narrow strip of bright green lowland. Here and there a patch of +sugar-cane, or a knot of cocoa-nut trees, close to the water's edge, +reminded them that they were in the tropics; but above, all was savage, +rough, and bare as an Alpine precipice. Sometimes deep clefts allowed +the southern sun to pour a blaze of light down to the sea marge, and +gave glimpses far above of strange and stately trees lining the glens, +and of a veil of perpetual mist which shrouded the inner summits; while +up and down, between them and the mountain side, white fleecy clouds +hung motionless in the burning air, increasing the impression of +vastness and of solemn rest, which was already overpowering. + +“Within those mountains, three thousand feet above our heads,” said +Drew, the master, “lies Saint Yago de Leon, the great city which the +Spaniards founded fifteen years agone.” + +“Is it a rich place?” asked Cary. + +“Very, they say.” + +“Is it a strong place?” asked Amyas. + +“No forts to it at all, they say. The Spaniards boast, that Heaven has +made such good walls to it already, that man need make none.” + +“I don't know,” quoth Amyas. “Lads, could you climb those hills, do you +think?” + +“Rather higher than Harty Point, sir: but it depends pretty much on +what's behind them.” + +And now the last point is rounded, and they are full in sight of the +spot in quest of which they have sailed four thousand miles of sea. A +low black cliff, crowned by a wall; a battery at either end. Within, a +few narrow streets of white houses, running parallel with the sea, upon +a strip of flat, which seemed not two hundred yards in breadth; and +behind, the mountain wall, covering the whole in deepest shade. How that +wall was ever ascended to the inland seemed the puzzle; but Drew, who +had been off the place before, pointed out to them a narrow path, which +wound upwards through a glen, seemingly sheer perpendicular. That was +the road to the capital, if any man dare try it. In spite of the shadow +of the mountain, the whole place wore a dusty and glaring look. The +breaths of air which came off the land were utterly stifling; and no +wonder, for La Guayra, owing to the radiation of that vast fire-brick +of heated rock, is one of the hottest spots upon the face of the whole +earth. + +Where was the harbor? There was none. Only an open roadstead, wherein +lay tossing at anchor five vessels. The two outer ones were small +merchant caravels. Behind them lay two long, low, ugly-looking craft, at +sight of which Yeo gave a long whew. + +“Galleys, as I'm a sinful saint! And what's that big one inside of them, +Robert Drew? She has more than hawseholes in her idolatrous black sides, +I think.” + +“We shall open her astern of the galleys in another minute,” said Amyas. +“Look out, Cary, your eyes are better than mine.” + +“Six round portholes on the main deck,” quoth Will. + +“And I can see the brass patararoes glittering on her poop,” quoth +Amyas. “Will, we're in for it.” + +“In for it we are, captain. + + “Farewell, farewell, my parents dear. + I never shall see you more, I fear. + +“Let's go in, nevertheless, and pound the Don's ribs, my old lad of +Smerwick. Eh? Three to one is very fair odds.” + +“Not underneath those fort guns, I beg leave to say,” quoth Yeo. “If the +Philistines will but come out unto us, we will make them like unto Zeba +and Zalmunna.” + +“Quite true,” said Amyas. “Game cocks are game cocks, but reason's +reason.” + +“If the Philistines are not coming out, they are going to send a +messenger instead,” quoth Cary. “Look out, all thin skulls!” + +And as he spoke, a puff of white smoke rolled from the eastern fort, and +a heavy ball plunged into the water between it and the ship. + +“I don't altogether like this,” quoth Amyas. “What do they mean by +firing on us without warning? And what are these ships of war doing +here? Drew, you told me the armadas never lay here.” + +“No more, I believe, they do, sir, on account of the anchorage being so +bad, as you may see. I'm mortal afeared that rascal's story was true, +and that the Dons have got wind of our coming.” + +“Run up a white flag, at all events. If they do expect us, they must +have known some time since, or how could they have got their craft +hither?” + +“True, sir. They must have come from Santa Marta, at the least; perhaps +from Cartagena. And that would take a month at least going and coming.” + +Amyas suddenly recollected Eustace's threat in the wayside inn. Could he +have betrayed their purpose? Impossible! + +“Let us hold a council of war, at all events, Frank.” + +Frank was absorbed in a very different matter. A half-mile to the +eastward of the town, two or three hundred feet up the steep mountain +side, stood a large, low, white house embosomed in trees and gardens. +There was no other house of similar size near; no place for one. And was +not that the royal flag of Spain which flaunted before it? That must be +the governor's house; that must be the abode of the Rose of Torridge! +And Frank stood devouring it with wild eyes, till he had persuaded +himself that he could see a woman's figure walking upon the terrace +in front, and that the figure was none other than hers whom he sought. +Amyas could hardly tear him away to a council of war, which was a sad, +and only not a peevish one. + +The three adventurers, with Brimblecombe, Yeo, and Drew, went apart upon +the poop; and each looked the other in the face awhile. For what was +to be done? The plans and hopes of months were brought to naught in an +hour. + +“It is impossible, you see,” said Amyas, at last, “to surprise the town +by land, while these ships are here; for if we land our men, we leave +our ship without defence.” + +“As impossible as to challenge Don Guzman while he is not here,” said +Cary. + +“I wonder why the ships have not opened on us already,” said Drew. + +“Perhaps they respect our flag of truce,” said Cary. “Why not send in a +boat to treat with them, and to inquire for-- + +“For her?” interrupted Frank. “If we show that we are aware of her +existence, her name is blasted in the eyes of those jealous Spaniards.” + +“And as for respecting our flag of truce, gentlemen,” said Yeo, “if you +will take an old man's advice, trust them not. They will keep the same +faith with us as they kept with Captain Hawkins at San Juan d'Ulloa, in +that accursed business which was the beginning of all the wars; when +we might have taken the whole plate-fleet, with two hundred thousand +pounds' worth of gold on board, and did not, but only asked license to +trade like honest men. And yet, after they had granted us license, and +deceived us by fair speech into landing ourselves and our ordnance, the +governor and all the fleet set upon us, five to one, and gave no quarter +to any soul whom he took. No, sir; I expect the only reason why they +don't attack us is, because their crews are not on board.” + +“They will be, soon enough, then,” said Amyas. “I can see soldiers +coming down the landing-stairs.” + +And, in fact, boats full of armed men began to push off to the ships. + +“We may thank Heaven,” said Drew, “that we were not here two hours +agone. The sun will be down before they are ready for sea, and the +fellows will have no stomach to go looking for us by night.” + +“So much the worse for us. If they will but do that, we may give them +the slip, and back again to the town, and there try our luck; for I +cannot find it in my heart to leave the place without having one dash at +it.” + +Yeo shook his head. “There are plenty more towns along the coast more +worth trying than this, sir: but Heaven's will be done!” + +And as they spoke, the sun plunged into the sea, and all was dark. + +At last it was agreed to anchor, and wait till midnight. If the ships +of war came out, they were to try to run in past them, and, desperate +as the attempt might be, attempt their original plan of landing to the +westward of the town, taking it in flank, plundering the government +storehouses, which they saw close to the landing-place, and then +fighting their way back to their boats, and out of the roadstead. Two +hours would suffice if the armada and the galleys were but once out of +the way. + +Amyas went forward, called the men together, and told them the plan. It +was not very cheerfully received: but what else was there to be done! + +They ran down about a mile and a half to the westward, and anchored. + +The night wore on, and there was no sign of stir among the shipping; +for though they could not see the vessels themselves, yet their lights +(easily distinguished by their relative height from those in the town +above) remained motionless; and the men fretted and fumed for weary +hours at thus seeing a rich prize (for of course the town was paved with +gold) within arm's reach, and yet impossible. + +Let Amyas and his men have patience. Some short five years more, and the +great Armada will have come and gone; and then that avenging storm, +of which they, like Oxenham, Hawkins, and Drake, are but the +avant-couriers, will burst upon every Spanish port from Corunna to +Cadiz, from the Canaries to Havana, and La Guayra and St. Yago de Leon +will not escape their share. Captain Amyas Preston and Captain Sommers, +the colonist of the Bermudas, or Sommers' Islands, will land, with a +force tiny enough, though larger far than Leigh's, where Leigh dare not +land; and taking the fort of Guayra, will find, as Leigh found, that +their coming has been expected, and that the Pass of the Venta, three +thousand feet above, has been fortified with huge barricadoes, abattis, +and cannon, making the capital, amid its ring of mountain-walls, +impregnable--to all but Englishmen or Zouaves. For up that seven +thousand feet of precipice, which rises stair on stair behind the town, +those fierce adventurers will climb hand over hand, through rain and +fog, while men lie down, and beg their officers to kill them, for no +farther can they go. Yet farther they will go, hewing a path with their +swords through woods of wild plantain, and rhododendron thickets, over +(so it seems, however incredible) the very saddle of the Silla,* down +upon the astonished “Mantuanos” of St. Jago, driving all before them; +and having burnt the city in default of ransom, will return triumphant +by the right road, and pass along the coast, the masters of the deep. + + * Humboldt says that there is a path from Caravellada to St. + Jago, between the peaks, used by smugglers. This is + probably the “unknowen way of the Indians,” which Preston + used. + +I know not whether any men still live who count their descent from those +two valiant captains; but if such there be, let them be sure that the +history of the English navy tells no more Titanic victory over nature +and man than that now forgotten raid of Amyas Preston and his comrade, +in the year of grace 1595. + +But though a venture on the town was impossible, yet there was another +venture which Frank was unwilling to let slip. A light which now shone +brightly in one of the windows of the governor's house was the lodestar +to which all his thoughts were turned; and as he sat in the cabin with +Amyas, Cary, and Jack, he opened his heart to them. + +“And are we, then,” asked he, mournfully, “to go without doing the very +thing for which we came?” + +All were silent awhile. At last John Brimblecombe spoke. + +“Show me the way to do it, Mr. Frank, and I will go.” + +“My dearest man,” said Amyas, “what would you have? Any attempt to see +her, even if she be here, would be all but certain death.” + +“And what if it were? What if it were, my brother Amyas? Listen to me. I +have long ceased to shrink from Death; but till I came into these magic +climes, I never knew the beauty of his face.” + +“Of death?” said Cary. “I should have said, of life. God forgive me! but +man might wish to live forever, if he had such a world as this wherein +to live.” + +“And do you forget, Cary, that the more fair this passing world of time, +by so much the more fair is that eternal world, whereof all here is but +a shadow and a dream; by so much the more fair is He before whose throne +the four mystic beasts, the substantial ideas of Nature and her powers, +stand day and night, crying, 'Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts, Thou +hast made all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were created!' +My friends, if He be so prodigal of His own glory as to have decked +these lonely shores, all but unknown since the foundation of the world, +with splendors beyond all our dreams, what must be the glory of His face +itself! I have done with vain shadows. It is better to depart and to be +with Him, where shall be neither desire nor anger, self-deception nor +pretence, but the eternal fulness of reality and truth. One thing I +have to do before I die, for God has laid it on me. Let that be done +to-night, and then, farewell!” + +“Frank! Frank! remember our mother!” + +“I do remember her. I have talked over these things with her many a +time; and where I would fain be, she would fain be also. She sent me out +with my virgin honor, as the Spartan mother did her boy with the shield, +saying, 'Come back either with this, or upon this;' and one or the other +I must do, if I would meet her either in this life or in the next. But +in the meanwhile do not mistake me; my life is God's, and I promise not +to cast it away rashly.” + +“What would you do, then?” + +“Go up to that house, Amyas, and speak with her, if Heaven gives me an +opportunity, as Heaven, I feel assured, will give.” + +“And do you call that no rashness?” + +“Is any duty rashness? Is it rash to stand amid the flying bullets, if +your queen has sent you? Is it more rash to go to seek Christ's lost +lamb, if God and your own oath hath sent you? John Brimblecombe answered +that question for us long ago.” + +“If you go, I go with you!” said all three at once. + +“No. Amyas, you owe a duty to our mother and to your ship. Cary, you are +heir to great estates, and are bound thereby to your country and to your +tenants. John Brimblecombe--” + +“Ay!” squeaked Jack. “And what have you to say, Mr. Frank, against my +going?--I, who have neither ship nor estates--except, I suppose, that I +am not worthy to travel in such good company?” + +“Think of your old parents, John, and all your sisters.” + +“I thought of them before I started, sir, as Mr. Cary knows, and +you know too. I came here to keep my vow, and I am not going to turn +renegade at the very foot of the cross.” + +“Some one must go with you, Frank,” said Amyas; “if it were only to +bring back the boat's crew in case--” and he faltered. + +“In case I fall,” replied Frank, with a smile. “I will finish your +sentence for you, lad; I am not afraid of it, though you may be for me. +Yet some one, I fear, must go. Unhappy me! that I cannot risk my own +worthless life without risking your more precious lives!” + +“Not so, Mr. Frank! Your oath is our oath, and your duty ours!” said +John. “I will tell you what we will do, gentlemen all. We three will +draw cuts for the honor of going with him.” + +“Lots?” said Amyas. “I don't like leaving such grave matters to chance, +friend John.” + +“Chance, sir? When you have used all your own wit, and find it fail you, +then what is drawing lots but taking the matter out of your own weak +hands, and laying it in God's strong hands?” + +“Right, John!” said Frank. “So did the apostles choose their successor, +and so did holy men of old decide controversies too subtle for them; +and we will not be ashamed to follow their example. For my part, I have +often said to Sidney and to Spenser, when we have babbled together of +Utopian governments in days which are now dreams to me, that I would +have all officers of state chosen by lot out of the wisest and most fit; +so making sure that they should be called by God, and not by man alone. +Gentlemen, do you agree to Sir John's advice?” + +They agreed, seeing no better counsel, and John put three slips of paper +into Frank's hand, with the simple old apostolic prayer-- + +“Show which of us three Thou hast chosen.” + +The lot fell upon Amyas Leigh. + +Frank shuddered, and clasped his hands over his face. + +“Well,” said Cary, “I have ill-luck to-night: but Frank goes at least in +good company.” + +“Ah, that it had been I!” said Jack; “though I suppose I was too poor a +body to have such an honor fall on me. And yet it is hard for flesh and +blood; hard indeed to have come all this way, and not to see her after +all!” + +“Jack,” said Frank, “you are kept to do better work than this, doubt +not. But if the lot had fallen on you--ay, if it had fallen on a three +years' child, I would have gone up as cheerfully with that child to lead +me, as I do now with this my brother! Amyas, can we have a boat, and a +crew? It is near midnight already.” + +Amyas went on deck, and asked for six volunteers. Whosoever would come, +Amyas would double out of his own purse any prize-money which might fall +to that man's share. + +One of the old Pelican's crew, Simon Evans of Clovelly, stepped out at +once. + +“Why six only, captain? Give the word, and any and all of us will go +up with you, sack the house, and bring off the treasure and the lady, +before two hours are out.” + +“No, no, my brave lads! As for treasure, if there be any, it is sure to +have been put all safe into the forts, or hidden in the mountains; and +as for the lady, God forbid that we should force her a step without her +own will.” + +The honest sailor did not quite understand this punctilio: but-- + +“Well, captain,” quoth he, “as you like; but no man shall say that you +asked for a volunteer, were it to jump down a shark's throat, but what +you had me first of all the crew.” + +After this sort of temper had been exhibited, three or four more came +forward--Yeo was very anxious to go, but Amyas forbade him. + +“I'll volunteer, sir, without reward, for this or anything; though” + (added he in a lower tone) “I would to Heaven that the thought had never +entered your head.” + +“And so would I have volunteered,” said Simon Evans, “if it were the +ship's quarrel, or the queen's; but being it's a private matter of the +captain's, and I've a wife and children at home, why, I take no shame to +myself for asking money for my life.” + +So the crew was made up; but ere they pushed off, Amyas called Cary +aside-- + +“If I perish, Will--” + +“Don't talk of such things, dear old lad.” + +“I must. Then you are captain. Do nothing without Yeo and Drew. But if +they approve, go right north away for San Domingo and Cuba, and try the +ports; they can have no news of us there, and there is booty without +end. Tell my mother that I died like a gentleman; and mind--mind, dear +lad, to keep your temper with the men, let the poor fellows grumble as +they may. Mind but that, and fear God, and all will go well.” + +The tears were glistening in Cary's eyes as he pressed Amyas's hand, and +watched the two brothers down over the side upon their desperate errand. + +They reached the pebble beach. There seemed no difficulty about finding +the path to the house--so bright was the moon, and so careful a survey +of the place had Frank taken. Leaving the men with the boat (Amyas had +taken care that they should be well armed), they started up the beach, +with their swords only. Frank assured Amyas that they would find a path +leading from the beach up to the house, and he was not mistaken. They +found it easily, for it was made of white shell sand; and following it, +struck into a “tunal,” or belt of tall thorny cactuses. Through this +the path wound in zigzags up a steep rocky slope, and ended at a +wicket-gate. They tried it, and found it open. + +“She may expect us,” whispered Frank. + +“Impossible!” + +“Why not? She must have seen our ship; and if, as seems, the townsfolk +know who we are, how much more must she! Yes, doubt it not, she still +longs to hear news of her own land, and some secret sympathy will draw +her down towards the sea to-night. See! the light is in the window +still!” + +“But if not,” said Amyas, who had no such expectation, “what is your +plan?” + +“I have none.” + +“None?” + +“I have imagined twenty different ones in the last hour; but all are +equally uncertain, impossible. I have ceased to struggle--I go where +I am called, love's willing victim. If Heaven accept the sacrifice, it +will provide the altar and the knife.” + +Aymas was at his wits' end. Judging of his brother by himself, he had +taken for granted that Frank had some well-concocted scheme for gaining +admittance to the Rose; and as the wiles of love were altogether out of +his province, he had followed in full faith such a sans-appel as he held +Frank to be. But now he almost doubted of his brother's sanity, though +Frank's manner was perfectly collected and his voice firm. Amyas, honest +fellow, had no understanding of that intense devotion, which so many in +those days (not content with looking on it as a lofty virtue, and yet +one to be duly kept in its place by other duties) prided themselves on +pampering into the most fantastic and self-willed excesses. + +Beautiful folly! the death-song of which two great geniuses were +composing at that very moment, each according to his light. For, while +Spenser was embalming in immortal verse all that it contained of noble +and Christian elements, Cervantes sat, perhaps, in his dungeon, writing +with his left hand Don Quixote, saddest of books, in spite of all its +wit; the story of a pure and noble soul, who mistakes this actual life +for that ideal one which he fancies (and not so wrongly either) eternal +in the heavens: and finding instead of a battlefield for heroes in God's +cause, nothing but frivolity, heartlessness, and godlessness, becomes a +laughing-stock,--and dies. One of the saddest books, I say again, which +man can read. + +Amyas hardly dare trust himself to speak, for fear of saying too much; +but he could not help saying-- + +“You are going to certain death, Frank.” + +“Did I not entreat,” answered he, very quietly, “to go alone?” + +Amyas had half a mind to compel him to return: but he feared Frank's +obstinacy; and feared, too, the shame of returning on board without +having done anything; so they went up through the wicket-gate, along a +smooth turf walk, into what seemed a pleasure-garden, formed by the hand +of man, or rather of woman. For by the light, not only of the moon, but +of the innumerable fireflies, which flitted to and fro across the sward +like fiery imps sent to light the brothers on their way, they could see +that the bushes on either side, and the trees above their heads, were +decked with flowers of such strangeness and beauty, that, as Frank +once said of Barbados, “even the gardens of Wilton were a desert in +comparison.” All around were orange and lemon trees (probably the only +addition which man had made to Nature's prodigality), the fruit of +which, in that strange colored light of the fireflies, flashed in their +eyes like balls of burnished gold and emerald; while great white tassels +swinging from every tree in the breeze which swept down the glade, +tossed in their faces a fragrant snow of blossoms, and glittering drops +of perfumed dew. + +“What a paradise!” said Amyas to Frank, “with the serpent in it, as of +old. Look!” + +And as he spoke, there dropped slowly down from a bough, right before +them, what seemed a living chain of gold, ruby, and sapphire. Both +stopped, and another glance showed the small head and bright eyes of a +snake, hissing and glaring full in their faces. + +“See!” said Frank. “And he comes, as of old, in the likeness of an angel +of light. Do not strike it. There are worse devils to be fought with +to-night than that poor beast.” And stepping aside, they passed the +snake safely, and arrived in front of the house. + +It was, as I have said, a long low house, with balconies along the upper +story, and the under part mostly open to the wind. The light was still +burning in the window. + +“Whither now?” said Amyas, in a tone of desperate resignation. + +“Thither! Where else on earth?” and Frank pointed to the light, +trembling from head to foot, and pushed on. + +“For Heaven's sake! Look at the negroes on the barbecue!” + +It was indeed time to stop; for on the barbecue, or terrace of white +plaster, which ran all round the front, lay sleeping full twenty black +figures. + +“What will you do now? You must step over them to gain an entrance.” + +“Wait here, and I will go up gently towards the window. She may see me. +She will see me as I step into the moonlight. At least I know an air by +which she will recognize me, if I do but hum a stave.” + +“Why, you do not even know that that light is hers!--Down, for your +life!” + +And Amyas dragged him down into the bushes on his left hand; for one +of the negroes, wakening suddenly with a cry, had sat up, and began +crossing himself four or five times, in fear of “Duppy,” and mumbling +various charms, ayes, or what not. + +The light above was extinguished instantly. + +“Did you see her?” whispered Frank. + +“No.” + +“I did--the shadow of the face, and the neck! Can I be mistaken?” And +then, covering his face with his hands, he murmured to himself, “Misery! +misery! So near and yet impossible?” + +“Would it be the less impossible were you face to face? Let us go back. +We cannot go up without detection, even if our going were of use. Come +back, for God's sake, ere all is lost! If you have seen her, as you say, +you know at least that she is alive, and safe in his house--” + +“As his mistress? or as his wife? Do I know that yet, Amyas, and can I +depart until I know?” There was a few minutes' silence, and then Amyas, +making one last attempt to awaken Frank to the absurdity of the whole +thing, and to laugh him, if possible, out of it, as argument had no +effect-- + +“My dear fellow, I am very hungry and sleepy; and this bush is very +prickly; and my boots are full of ants--” + +“So are mine.--Look!” and Frank caught Amyas's arm, and clenched it +tight. + +For round the farther corner of the house a dark cloaked figure stole +gently, turning a look now and then upon the sleeping negroes, and came +on right toward them. + +“Did I not tell you she would come?” whispered Frank, in a triumphant +tone. + +Amyas was quite bewildered; and to his mind the apparition seemed +magical, and Frank prophetic; for as the figure came nearer, incredulous +as he tried to be, there was no denying that the shape and the walk were +exactly those of her, to find whom they had crossed the Atlantic. True, +the figure was somewhat taller; but then, “she must be grown since I saw +her,” thought Amyas; and his heart for the moment beat as fiercely as +Frank's. + +But what was that behind her? Her shadow against the white wall of the +house. Not so. Another figure, cloaked likewise, but taller far, was +following on her steps. It was a man's. They could see that he wore a +broad sombrero. It could not be Don Guzman, for he was at sea. Who then? +Here was a mystery; perhaps a tragedy. And both brothers held their +breaths, while Amyas felt whether his sword was loose in the sheath. + +The Rose (if indeed it was she) was within ten yards of them, when she +perceived that she was followed. She gave a little shriek. The cavalier +sprang forward, lifted his hat courteously, and joined her, bowing low. +The moonlight was full upon his face. + +“It is Eustace, our cousin! How came he here, in the name of all the +fiends?” + +“Eustace! Then that is she, after all!” said Frank, forgetting +everything else in her. + +And now flashed across Amyas all that had passed between him and Eustace +in the moorland inn, and Parracombe's story, too, of the suspicious +gipsy. Eustace had been beforehand with them, and warned Don Guzman! All +was explained now: but how had he got hither? + +“The devil, his master, sent him hither on a broomstick, I suppose: or +what matter how? Here he is; and here we are, worse luck!” And, setting +his teeth, Amyas awaited the end. + +The two came on, talking earnestly, and walking at a slow pace, so that +the brothers could hear every word. + +“What shall we do now?” said Frank. “We have no right to be +eavesdroppers.” + +“But we must be, right or none.” And Amyas held him down firmly by the +arm. + +“But whither are you going, then, my dear madam?” they heard Eustace +say in a wheedling tone. “Can you wonder if such strange conduct should +cause at least sorrow to your admirable and faithful husband?” + +“Husband!” whispered Frank faintly to Amyas. “Thank God, thank God! I am +content. Let us go.” + +But to go was impossible; for, as fate would have it, the two had +stopped just opposite them. + +“The inestimable Senor Don Guzman--” began Eustace again. + +“What do you mean by praising him to me in this fulsome way, sir? Do you +suppose that I do not know his virtues better than you?” + +“If you do, madam” (this was spoken in a harder tone), “it were wise for +you to try them less severely, than by wandering down towards the beach +on the very night that you know his most deadly enemies are lying in +wait to slay him, plunder his house, and most probably to carry you off +from him.” + +“Carry me off? I will die first!” + +“Who can prove that to him? Appearances are at least against you.” + +“My love to him, and his trust for me, sir!” + +“His trust? Have you forgotten, madam, what passed last week, and why he +sailed yesterday?” + +The only answer was a burst of tears. Eustace stood watching her with a +terrible eye; but they could see his face writhing in the moonlight. + +“Oh!” sobbed she at last. “And if I have been imprudent, was it not +natural to wish to look once more upon an English ship? Are you not +English as well as I? Have you no longing recollections of the dear old +land at home?” + +Eustace was silent; but his face worked more fiercely than ever. + +“How can he ever know it?” + +“Why should he not know it?” + +“Ah!” she burst out passionately, “why not, indeed, while you are here? +You, sir, the tempter, you the eavesdropper, you the sunderer of loving +hearts! You, serpent, who found our home a paradise, and see it now a +hell!” + +“Do you dare to accuse me thus, madam, without a shadow of evidence?” + +“Dare? I dare anything, for I know all! I have watched you, sir, and I +have borne with you too long.” + +“Me, madam, whose only sin towards you, as you should know by now, is to +have loved you too well? Rose! Rose! have you not blighted my life for +me--broken my heart? And how have I repaid you? How but by sacrificing +myself to seek you over land and sea, that I might complete your +conversion to the bosom of that Church where a Virgin Mother stands +stretching forth soft arms to embrace her wandering daughter, and cries +to you all day long, 'Come unto me, ye that are weary and heavy laden, +and I will give you rest!' And this is my reward!” + +“Depart with your Virgin Mother, sir, and tempt me no more! You have +asked me what I dare; and I dare this, upon my own ground, and in my +own garden, I, Donna Rosa de Soto, to bid you leave this place now and +forever, after having insulted me by talking of your love, and tempted +me to give up that faith which my husband promised me he would respect +and protect. Go, sir!” + +The brothers listened breathless with surprise as much as with rage. +Love and conscience, and perhaps, too, the pride of her lofty alliance, +had converted the once gentle and dreamy Rose into a very Roxana; but it +was only the impulse of a moment. The words had hardly passed her lips, +when, terrified at what she had said, she burst into a fresh flood of +tears; while Eustace answered calmly: + +“I go, madam: but how know you that I may not have orders, and that, +after your last strange speech, my conscience may compel me to obey +those orders, to take you with me?” + +“Me? with you?” + +“My heart has bled for you, madam, for many a year. It longs now that +it had bled itself to death, and never known the last worst agony of +telling you--” + +And drawing close to her he whispered in her ear--what, the brothers +heard not--but her answer was a shriek which rang through the woods, and +sent the night-birds fluttering up from every bough above their heads. + +“By Heaven!” said Amyas, “I can stand this no longer. Cut that devil's +throat I must--” + +“She is lost if his dead body is found by her.” + +“We are lost if we stay here, then,” said Amyas; “for those negroes will +hurry down at her cry, and then found we must be.” + +“Are you mad, madam, to betray yourself by your own cries? The negroes +will be here in a moment. I give you one last chance for life, then:” + and Eustace shouted in Spanish at the top of his voice, “Help, help, +servants! Your mistress is being carried off by bandits!” + +“What do you mean, sir?” + +“Let your woman's wit supply the rest: and forget not him who thus saves +you from disgrace.” + +Whether the brothers heard the last words or not, I know not; but taking +for granted that Eustace had discovered them, they sprang to their feet +at once, determined to make one last appeal, and then to sell their +lives as dearly as they could. + +Eustace started back at the unexpected apparition; but a second glance +showed him Amyas's mighty bulk; and he spoke calmly-- + +“You see, madam, I did not call without need. Welcome, good cousins. My +charity, as you perceive, has found means to outstrip your craft; while +the fair lady, as was but natural, has been true to her assignation!” + +“Liar!” cried Frank. “She never knew of our being--” + +“Credat Judaeus!” answered Eustace; but, as he spoke, Amyas burst +through the bushes at him. There was no time to be lost; and ere the +giant could disentangle himself from the boughs and shrubs, Eustace had +slipped off his long cloak, thrown it over Amyas's head, and ran up the +alley shouting for help. + +Mad with rage, Amyas gave chase: but in two minutes more Eustace was +safe among the ranks of the negroes, who came shouting and jabbering +down the path. + +He rushed back. Frank was just ending some wild appeal to Rose-- + +“Your conscience! your religion!--” + +“No, never! I can face the chance of death, but not the loss of him. Go! +for God's sake, leave me!” + +“You are lost, then,--and I have ruined you!” + +“Come off, now or never,” cried Amyas, clutching him by the arm, and +dragging him away like a child. + +“You forgive me?” cried he. + +“Forgive you?” and she burst into tears again. + +Frank burst into tears also. + +“Let me go back, and die with her--Amyas!--my oath!--my honor!” and he +struggled to turn back. + +Amyas looked back too, and saw her standing calmly, with her hands +folded across her breast, awaiting Eustace and the servants; and he half +turned to go back also. Both saw how fearfully appearances had put her +into Eustace's power. Had he not a right to suspect that they were there +by her appointment; that she was going to escape with them? And would +not Eustace use his power? The thought of the Inquisition crossed their +minds. “Was that the threat which Eustace had whispered?” asked he of +Frank. + +“It was,” groaned Frank, in answer. + +For the first and last time in his life, Amyas Leigh stood irresolute. + +“Back, and stab her to the heart first!” said Frank, struggling to +escape from him. + +Oh, if Amyas were but alone, and Frank safe home in England! To charge +the whole mob, kill her, kill Eustace, and then cut his way back again +to the ship, or die,--what matter? as he must die some day,--sword in +hand! But Frank!--and then flashed before his eyes his mother's hopeless +face; then rang in his ears his mother's last bequest to him of that +frail treasure. Let Rose, let honor, let the whole world perish, he must +save Frank. See! the negroes were up with her now--past her--away for +life! and once more he dragged his brother down the hill, and through +the wicket, only just in time; for the whole gang of negroes were within +ten yards of them in full pursuit. + +“Frank,” said he, sharply, “if you ever hope to see your mother again, +rouse yourself, man, and fight!” And, without waiting for an answer, he +turned, and charged up-hill upon his pursuers, who saw the long bright +blade, and fled instantly. + +Again he hurried Frank down the hill; the path wound in zigzags, and he +feared that the negroes would come straight over the cliff, and so cut +off his retreat: but the prickly cactuses were too much for them, and +they were forced to follow by the path, while the brothers (Frank having +somewhat regained his senses) turned every now and then to menace +them: but once on the rocky path, stones began to fly fast; small ones +fortunately, and wide and wild for want of light--but when they reached +the pebble-beach? Both were too proud to run; but, if ever Amyas prayed +in his life, he prayed for the last twenty yards before he reached the +water-mark. + +“Now, Frank! down to the boat as hard as you can run, while I keep the +curs back.” + +“Amyas! what do you take me for? My madness brought you hither: your +devotion shall not bring me back without you.” + +“Together, then!” + +And putting Frank's arm through his, they hurried down, shouting to +their men. + +The boat was not fifty yards off: but fast travelling over the pebbles +was impossible, and long ere half the distance was crossed, the negroes +were on the beach, and the storm burst. A volley of great quartz pebbles +whistled round their heads. + +“Come on, Frank! for life's sake! Men, to the rescue! Ah! what was +that?” + +The dull crash of a pebble against Frank's fair head! Drooping like +Hyacinthus beneath the blow of the quoit, he sank on Amyas's arm. The +giant threw him over his shoulder, and plunged blindly on,--himself +struck again and again. + +“Fire, men! Give it the black villains!” + +The arquebuses crackled from the boat in front. What were those +dull thuds which answered from behind? Echoes? No. Over his head the +caliver-balls went screeching. The governors' guard have turned out, +followed them to the beach, fixed their calivers, and are firing over +the negroes' heads, as the savages rush down upon the hapless brothers. + +If, as all say, there are moments which are hours, how many hours was +Amyas Leigh in reaching that boat's bow? Alas! the negroes are there as +soon as he, and the guard, having left their calivers, are close behind +them, sword in hand. Amyas is up to his knees in water--battered with +stones--blinded with blood. The boat is swaying off and on against the +steep pebble-bank: he clutches at it--misses--falls headlong--rises +half-choked with water: but Frank is still in his arms. Another heavy +blow--a confused roar of shouts, shots, curses--a confused mass of +negroes and English, foam and pebbles--and he recollects no more. + + * * * * * + +He is lying in the stern-sheets of the boat; stiff, weak, half blind +with blood. He looks up; the moon is still bright overhead: but they are +away from the shore now, for the wave-crests are dancing white before +the land-breeze, high above the boat's side. The boat seems strangely +empty. Two men are pulling instead of six! And what is this lying heavy +across his chest? He pushes, and is answered by a groan. He puts his +hand down to rise, and is answered by another groan. + +“What's this?” + +“All that are left of us,” says Simon Evans of Clovelly. + +“All?” The bottom of the boat seemed paved with human bodies. “Oh +God! oh God!” moans Amyas, trying to rise. “And where--where is Frank? +Frank!” + +“Mr. Frank!” cries Evans. There is no answer. + +“Dead?” shrieks Amyas. “Look for him, for God's sake, look!” and +struggling from under his living load, he peers into each pale and +bleeding face. + +“Where is he? Why don't you speak, forward there?” + +“Because we have naught to say, sir,” answers Evans, almost surlily. + +Frank was not there. + +“Put the boat about! To the shore!” roars Amyas. + +“Look over the gunwale, and judge for yourself, sir!” + +The waves are leaping fierce and high before a furious land-breeze. +Return is impossible. + +“Cowards! villains! traitors! hounds! to have left him behind.” + +“Listen you to me, Captain Amyas Leigh,” says Simon Evans, resting on +his oar; “and hang me for mutiny, if you will, when we're aboard, if we +ever get there. Isn't it enough to bring us out to death (as you knew +yourself, sir, for you're prudent enough) to please that poor young +gentleman's fancy about a wench; but you must call coward an honest man +that have saved your life this night, and not a one of us but has his +wound to show?” + +Amyas was silent; the rebuke was just. + +“I tell you, sir, if we've hove a stone out of this boat since we got +off, we've hove two hundredweight, and, if the Lord had not fought for +us, she'd have been beat to noggin-staves there on the beach.” + +“How did I come here, then?” + +“Tom Hart dragged you in out of five feet water, and then thrust the +boat off, and had his brains beat out for reward. All were knocked down +but us two. So help me God, we thought that you had hove Mr. Frank on +board just as you were knocked down, and saw William Frost drag him in.” + +But William Frost was lying senseless in the bottom of the boat. There +was no explanation. After all, none was needed. + +“And I have three wounds from stones, and this man behind me as many +more, beside a shot through his shoulder. Now, sir, be we cowards?” + +“You have done your duty,” said Amyas, and sank down in the boat, and +cried as if his heart would break; and then sprang up, and, wounded as +he was, took the oar from Evans's hands. With weary work they made the +ship, but so exhausted that another boat had to be lowered to get them +alongside. + +The alarm being now given, it was hardly safe to remain where they were; +and after a stormy and sad argument, it was agreed to weigh anchor and +stand off and on till morning; for Amyas refused to leave the spot till +he was compelled, though he had no hope (how could he have?) that Frank +might still be alive. And perhaps it was well for them, as will appear +in the next chapter, that morning did not find them at anchor close to +the town. + +However that may be, so ended that fatal venture of mistaken chivalry. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +SPANISH BLOODHOUNDS AND ENGLISH MASTIFFS + + “Full seven long hours in all men's sight + This fight endured sore, + Until our men so feeble grew, + That they could fight no more. + And then upon dead horses + Full savorly they fed, + And drank the puddle water, + They could no better get. + + “When they had fed so freely + They kneeled on the ground, + And gave God thanks devoutly for + The favor they had found; + Then beating up their colors, + The fight they did renew; + And turning to the Spaniards, + A thousand more they slew.” + + The Brave Lord Willoughby. 1586. + +When the sun leaped up the next morning, and the tropic light +flashed suddenly into the tropic day, Amyas was pacing the deck, with +dishevelled hair and torn clothes, his eyes red with rage and weeping, +his heart full--how can I describe it? Picture it to yourselves, picture +it to yourselves, you who have ever lost a brother; and you who have +not, thank God that you know nothing of his agony. Full of impossible +projects, he strode and staggered up and down, as the ship thrashed +close-hauled through the rolling seas. He would go back and burn the +villa. He would take Guayra, and have the life of every man in it in +return for his brother's. “We can do it, lads!” he shouted. “If Drake +took Nombre de Dios, we can take La Guayra.” And every voice shouted, +“Yes.” + +“We will have it, Amyas, and have Frank too, yet,” cried Cary; but Amyas +shook his head. He knew, and knew not why he knew, that all the ports in +New Spain would never restore to him that one beloved face. + +“Yes, he shall be well avenged. And look there! There is the first crop +of our vengeance. And he pointed toward the shore, where between them +and the now distant peaks of the Silla, three sails appeared, not five +miles to windward. + +“There are the Spanish bloodhounds on our heels, the same ships which we +saw yesterday off Guayra. Back, lads, and welcome them, if they were a +dozen.” + +There was a murmur of applause from all around; and if any young heart +sank for a moment at the prospect of fighting three ships at once, it +was awed into silence by the cheer which rose from all the older men, +and by Salvation Yeo's stentorian voice. + +“If there were a dozen, the Lord is with us, who has said, 'One of you +shall chase a thousand.' Clear away, lads, and see the glory of the Lord +this day.” + +“Amen!” cried Cary; and the ship was kept still closer to the wind. + +Amyas had revived at the sight of battle. He no longer felt his wounds, +or his great sorrow; even Frank's last angel's look grew dimmer every +moment as he bustled about the deck; and ere a quarter of an hour had +passed, his voice cried firmly and cheerfully as of old-- + +“Now, my masters, let us serve God, and then to breakfast, and after +that clear for action.” + +Jack Brimblecombe read the daily prayers, and the prayers before a +fight at sea, and his honest voice trembled, as, in the Prayer for +all Conditions of Men (in spite of Amyas's despair), he added, “and +especially for our dear brother Mr. Francis Leigh, perhaps captive among +the idolaters;” and so they rose. + +“Now, then,” said Amyas, “to breakfast. A Frenchman fights best fasting, +a Dutchman drunk, an Englishman full, and a Spaniard when the devil is +in him, and that's always.” + +“And good beef and the good cause are a match for the devil,” said Cary. +“Come down, captain; you must eat too.” + +Amyas shook his head, took the tiller from the steersman, and bade him +go below and fill himself. Will Cary went down, and returned in five +minutes, with a plate of bread and beef, and a great jack of ale, +coaxed them down Amyas's throat, as a nurse does with a child, and then +scuttled below again with tears hopping down his face. + +Amyas stood still steering. His face was grown seven years older in +the last night. A terrible set calm was on him. Woe to the man who came +across him that day! + +“There are three of them, you see, my masters,” said he, as the crew +came on deck again. “A big ship forward, and two galleys astern of her. +The big ship may keep; she is a race ship, and if we can but recover +the wind of her, we will see whether our height is not a match for her +length. We must give her the slip, and take the galleys first.” + +“I thank the Lord,” said Yeo, “who has given so wise a heart to so young +a general; a very David and Daniel, saving his presence, lads; and if +any dare not follow him, let him be as the men of Meroz and of Succoth. +Amen! Silas Staveley, smite me that boy over the head, the young monkey; +why is he not down at the powder-room door?” + +And Yeo went about his gunnery, as one who knew how to do it, and had +the most terrible mind to do it thoroughly, and the most terrible faith +that it was God's work. + +So all fell to; and though there was comparatively little to be done, +the ship having been kept as far as could be in fighting order all +night, yet there was “clearing of decks, lacing of nettings, making of +bulwarks, fitting of waist-cloths, arming of tops, tallowing of pikes, +slinging of yards, doubling of sheets and tacks,” enough to satisfy even +the pedantical soul of Richard Hawkins himself. Amyas took charge of +the poop, Cary of the forecastle, and Yeo, as gunner, of the main-deck, +while Drew, as master, settled himself in the waist; and all was ready, +and more than ready, before the great ship was within two miles of them. + +And now while the mastiffs of England and the bloodhounds of Spain are +nearing and nearing over the rolling surges, thirsting for each other's +blood, let us spend a few minutes at least in looking at them both, and +considering the causes which in those days enabled the English to face +and conquer armaments immensely superior in size and number of ships, +and to boast that in the whole Spanish war but one queen's ship, the +Revenge, and (if I recollect right) but one private man-of-war, Sir +Richard Hawkins's Dainty, had ever struck their colors to the enemy. + +What was it which enabled Sir Richard Grenville's Revenge, in his last +fearful fight off the Azores, to endure, for twelve hours before she +struck, the attack of eight Spanish armadas, of which two (three times +her own burden) sank at her side; and after all her masts were gone, and +she had been boarded three times without success, to defy to the last +the whole fleet of fifty-four sail, which lay around her, waiting for +her to sink, “like dogs around the dying forest king”? + +What enabled young Richard Hawkins's Dainty, though half her guns were +useless through the carelessness or treachery of the gunner, to maintain +for three days a running fight with two Spaniards of equal size with +her, double the weight of metal, and ten times the number of men? + +What enabled Sir George Cary's illustrious ship, the Content, to fight, +single-handed, from seven in the morning till eleven at night, with +four great armadas and two galleys, though her heaviest gun was but +one nine-pounder, and for many hours she had but thirteen men fit for +service? + +What enabled, in the very year of which I write, those two “valiant +Turkey Merchantmen of London, the Merchant Royal and the Tobie,” + with their three small consorts, to cripple, off Pantellaria in the +Mediterranean, the whole fleet of Spanish galleys sent to intercept +them, and return triumphant through the Straits of Gibraltar? + +And lastly, what in the fight of 1588, whereof more hereafter, enabled +the English fleet to capture, destroy, and scatter that Great Armada, +with the loss (but not the capture) of one pinnace, and one gentleman of +note? + +There were more causes than one: the first seems to have lain in the +build of the English ships; the second in their superior gunnery and +weight of metal; the third (without which the first would have been +useless) in the hearts of the English men. + +The English ship was much shorter than the Spanish; and this (with +the rig of those days) gave them an ease in manoeuvring, which utterly +confounded their Spanish foes. “The English ships in the fight of 1588,” + says Camden, “charged the enemy with marvellous agility, and having +discharged their broadsides, flew forth presently into the deep, and +levelled their shot directly, without missing, at those great ships of +the Spaniards, which were altogether heavy and unwieldy.” Moreover, the +Spanish fashion, in the West Indies at least, though not in the ships +of the Great Armada, was, for the sake of carrying merchandise, to build +their men-of-war flush-decked, or as it was called “race” (razes), which +left those on deck exposed and open; while the English fashion was to +heighten the ship as much as possible at stem and stern, both by +the sweep of her lines, and also by stockades (“close fights and +cage-works”) on the poop and forecastle, thus giving to the men +a shelter, which was further increased by strong bulkheads +(“cobridgeheads”) across the main-deck below, dividing the ship thus +into a number of separate forts, fitted with swivels (“bases, fowlers, +and murderers”) and loopholed for musketry and arrows. + +But the great source of superiority was, after all, in the men +themselves. The English sailor was then, as now, a quite amphibious +and all-cunning animal, capable of turning his hand to everything, from +needlework and carpentry to gunnery or hand-to-hand blows; and he +was, moreover, one of a nation, every citizen of which was not merely +permitted to carry arms, but compelled by law to practise from +childhood the use of the bow, and accustomed to consider sword-play +and quarter-staff as a necessary part and parcel of education, and the +pastime of every leisure hour. The “fiercest nation upon earth,” as +they were then called, and the freest also, each man of them fought for +himself with the self-help and self-respect of a Yankee ranger, and once +bidden to do his work, was trusted to carry it out by his own wit as +best he could. In one word, he was a free man. + +The English officers, too, as now, lived on terms of sympathy with their +men unknown to the Spaniards, who raised between the commander and the +commanded absurd barriers of rank and blood, which forbade to his pride +any labor but that of fighting. The English officers, on the other hand, +brought up to the same athletic sports, the same martial exercises, as +their men, were not ashamed to care for them, to win their friendship, +even on emergency to consult their judgment; and used their rank, not to +differ from their men, but to outvie them; not merely to command and be +obeyed, but, like Homer's heroes, or the old Norse Vikings, to lead and +be followed. Drake touched the true mainspring of English success when +he once (in his voyage round the world) indignantly rebuked some coxcomb +gentlemen-adventurers with--“I should like to see the gentleman that +will refuse to set his hand to a rope. I must have the gentlemen to hale +and draw with the mariners.” But those were days in which her majesty's +service was as little overridden by absurd rules of seniority, as by +that etiquette which is at once the counterfeit and the ruin of true +discipline. Under Elizabeth and her ministers, a brave and a shrewd man +was certain of promotion, let his rank or his age be what they might; +the true honor of knighthood covered once and for all any lowliness of +birth; and the merchant service (in which all the best sea-captains, +even those of noble blood, were more or less engaged) was then a +nursery, not only for seamen, but for warriors, in days when Spanish +and Portuguese traders (whenever they had a chance) got rid of English +competition by salvos of cannon-shot. + +Hence, as I have said, that strong fellow-feeling between officers and +men; and hence mutinies (as Sir Richard Hawkins tells us) were all but +unknown in the English ships, while in the Spanish they broke out on +every slight occasion. For the Spaniards, by some suicidal pedantry, had +allowed their navy to be crippled by the same despotism, etiquette, +and official routine, by which the whole nation was gradually frozen to +death in the course of the next century or two; forgetting that, fifty +years before, Cortez, Pizarro, and the early Conquistadores of America +had achieved their miraculous triumphs on the exactly opposite method +by that very fellow-feeling between commander and commanded by which the +English were now conquering them in their turn. + +Their navy was organized on a plan complete enough; but on one which +was, as the event proved, utterly fatal to their prowess and unanimity, +and which made even their courage and honor useless against the assaults +of free men. “They do, in their armadas at sea, divide themselves into +three bodies; to wit, soldiers, mariners, and gunners. The soldiers and +officers watch and ward as if on shore; and this is the only duty they +undergo, except cleaning their arms, wherein they are not over curious. +The gunners are exempted from all labor and care, except about the +artillery; and these are either Almaines, Flemings, or strangers; for +the Spaniards are but indifferently practised in this art. The mariners +are but as slaves to the rest, to moil and to toil day and night; and +those but few and bad, and not suffered to sleep or harbor under the +decks. For in fair or foul weather, in storms, sun, or rain, they must +pass void of covert or succor.” + +This is the account of one who was long prisoner on board their ships; +let it explain itself, while I return to my tale. For the great ship is +now within two musket-shots of the Rose, with the golden flag of Spain +floating at her poop; and her trumpets are shouting defiance up the +breeze, from a dozen brazen throats, which two or three answer lustily +from the Rose, from whose poop flies the flag of England, and from her +fore the arms of Leigh and Cary side by side, and over them the ship and +bridge of the good town of Bideford. And then Amyas calls: + +“Now, silence trumpets, waits, play up! 'Fortune my foe!' and God and +the Queen be with us!” + +Whereon (laugh not, reader, for it was the fashion of those musical +as well as valiant days) up rose that noble old favorite of good Queen +Bess, from cornet and sackbut, fife and drum; while Parson Jack, who had +taken his stand with the musicians on the poop, worked away lustily at +his violin, and like Volker of the Nibelungen Lied. + +“Well played, Jack; thy elbow flies like a lamb's tail,” said Amyas, +forcing a jest. + +“It shall fly to a better fiddle-bow presently, sir, an I have the +luck--” + +“Steady, helm!” said Amyas. “What is he after now?” + +The Spaniard, who had been coming upon them right down the wind under a +press of sail, took in his light canvas. + +“He don't know what to make of our waiting for him so bold,” said the +helmsman. + +“He does though, and means to fight us,” cried another. “See, he is +hauling up the foot of his mainsail, but he wants to keep the wind of +us.” + +“Let him try, then,” quoth Amyas. “Keep her closer still. Let no one +fire till we are about. Man the starboard guns; to starboard, and wait, +all small arm men. Pass the order down to the gunner, and bid all fire +high, and take the rigging.” + +Bang went one of the Spaniard's bow guns, and the shot went wide. +Then another and another, while the men fidgeted about, looking at the +priming of their muskets, and loosened their arrows in the sheaf. + +“Lie down, men, and sing a psalm. When I want you, I'll call you. Closer +still, if you can, helmsman, and we will try a short ship against a long +one. We can sail two points nearer the wind than he.” + +As Amyas had calculated, the Spaniard would gladly enough have stood +across the Rose's bows, but knowing the English readiness, dare not for +fear of being raked; so her only plan, if she did not intend to shoot +past her foe down to leeward, was to put her head close to the wind, and +wait for her on the same tack. + +Amyas laughed to himself. “Hold on yet awhile. More ways of killing a +cat than choking her with cream. Drew, there, are your men ready?” + +“Ay, ay, sir!” and on they went, closing fast with the Spaniard, till +within a pistol-shot. + +“Ready about!” and about she went like an eel, and ran upon the opposite +tack right under the Spaniard's stern. The Spaniard, astounded at the +quickness of the manoeuvre, hesitated a moment, and then tried to get +about also, as his only chance; but it was too late, and while his +lumbering length was still hanging in the wind's eye, Amyas's bowsprit +had all but scraped his quarter, and the Rose passed slowly across his +stern at ten yards' distance. + +“Now, then!” roared Amyas. “Fire, and with a will! Have at her, +archers: have at her, muskets all!” and in an instant a storm of bar and +chain-shot, round and canister, swept the proud Don from stem to stern, +while through the white cloud of smoke the musket-balls, and the still +deadlier cloth-yard arrows, whistled and rushed upon their venomous +errand. Down went the steersman, and every soul who manned the +poop. Down went the mizzen topmast, in went the stern-windows and +quarter-galleries; and as the smoke cleared away, the gorgeous painting +of the Madre Dolorosa, with her heart full of seven swords, which, in +a gilded frame, bedizened the Spanish stern, was shivered in splinters; +while, most glorious of all, the golden flag of Spain, which the last +moment flaunted above their heads, hung trailing in the water. The ship, +her tiller shot away, and her helmsman killed, staggered helplessly a +moment, and then fell up into the wind. + +“Well done, men of Devon!” shouted Amyas, as cheers rent the welkin. + +“She has struck,” cried some, as the deafening hurrahs died away. + +“Not a bit,” said Amyas. “Hold on, helmsman, and leave her to patch her +tackle while we settle the galleys.” + +On they shot merrily, and long ere the armada could get herself to +rights again, were two good miles to windward, with the galleys sweeping +down fast upon them. + +And two venomous-looking craft they were, as they shot through the +short chopping sea upon some forty oars apiece, stretching their long +sword-fish snouts over the water, as if snuffing for their prey. Behind +this long snout, a strong square forecastle was crammed with soldiers, +and the muzzles of cannon grinned out through portholes, not only in the +sides of the forecastle, but forward in the line of the galley's course, +thus enabling her to keep up a continual fire on a ship right ahead. + +The long low waist was packed full of the slaves, some five or six to +each oar, and down the centre, between the two banks, the English could +see the slave-drivers walking up and down a long gangway, whip in hand. +A raised quarter-deck at the stern held more soldiers, the sunlight +flashing merrily upon their armor and their gun-barrels; as they neared, +the English could hear plainly the cracks of the whips, and the yells as +of wild beasts which answered them; the roll and rattle of the oars, +and the loud “Ha!” of the slaves which accompanied every stroke, and the +oaths and curses of the drivers; while a sickening musky smell, as of +a pack of kennelled hounds, came down the wind from off those dens of +misery. No wonder if many a young heart shuddered as it faced, for the +first time, the horrible reality of those floating hells, the cruelties +whereof had rung so often in English ears, from the stories of their own +countrymen, who had passed them, fought them, and now and then passed +years of misery on board of them. Who knew but what there might be +English among those sun-browned half-naked masses of panting wretches? + +“Must we fire upon the slaves?” asked more than one, as the thought +crossed him. + +Amyas sighed. + +“Spare them all you can, in God's name; but if they try to run us down, +rake them we must, and God forgive us.” + +The two galleys came on abreast of each other, some forty yards apart. +To outmanoeuvre their oars as he had done the ship's sails, Amyas knew +was impossible. To run from them was to be caught between them and the +ship. + +He made up his mind, as usual, to the desperate game. + +“Lay her head up in the wind, helmsman, and we will wait for them.” + +They were now within musket-shot, and opened fire from their bow-guns; +but, owing to the chopping sea, their aim was wild. Amyas, as usual, +withheld his fire. + +The men stood at quarters with compressed lips, not knowing what was +to come next. Amyas, towering motionless on the quarter-deck, gave his +orders calmly and decisively. The men saw that he trusted himself, and +trusted him accordingly. + +The Spaniards, seeing him wait for them, gave a shout of joy--was the +Englishman mad? And the two galleys converged rapidly, intending to +strike him full, one on each bow. + +They were within forty yards--another minute, and the shock would come. +The Englishman's helm went up, his yards creaked round, and gathering +way, he plunged upon the larboard galley. + +“A dozen gold nobles to him who brings down the steersman!” shouted +Cary, who had his cue. + +And a flight of arrows from the forecastle rattled upon the galley's +quarter-deck. + +Hit or not hit, the steersman lost his nerve, and shrank from the coming +shock. The galley's helm went up to port, and her beak slid all but +harmless along Amyas's bow; a long dull grind, and then loud crack on +crack, as the Rose sawed slowly through the bank of oars from stem to +stern, hurling the wretched slaves in heaps upon each other; and ere +her mate on the other side could swing round, to strike him in his new +position, Amyas's whole broadside, great and small, had been poured into +her at pistol-shot, answered by a yell which rent their ears and hearts. + +“Spare the slaves! Fire at the soldiers!” cried Amyas; but the work was +too hot for much discrimination; for the larboard galley, crippled +but not undaunted, swung round across his stern, and hooked herself +venomously on to him. + +It was a move more brave than wise; for it prevented the other galley +from returning to the attack without exposing herself a second time to +the English broadside; and a desperate attempt of the Spaniards to board +at once through the stern-ports and up the quarter was met with such a +demurrer of shot and steel, that they found themselves in three minutes +again upon the galley's poop, accompanied, to their intense disgust, by +Amyas Leigh and twenty English swords. + +Five minutes' hard cutting, hand to hand, and the poop was clear. The +soldiers in the forecastle had been able to give them no assistance, +open as they lay to the arrows and musketry from the Rose's lofty stern. +Amyas rushed along the central gangway, shouting in Spanish, “Freedom +to the slaves! death to the masters!” clambered into the forecastle, +followed close by his swarm of wasps, and set them so good an example +how to use their stings, that in three minutes more there was not a +Spaniard on board who was not dead or dying. + +“Let the slaves free!” shouted he. “Throw us a hammer down, men. Hark! +there's an English voice!” + +There is indeed. From amid the wreck of broken oars and writhing limbs, +a voice is shrieking in broadest Devon to the master, who is looking +over the side. + +“Oh, Robert Drew! Robert Drew! Come down, and take me out of hell!” + +“Who be you, in the name of the Lord!” + +“Don't you mind William Prust, that Captain Hawkins left behind in the +Honduras, years and years agone? There's nine of us aboard, if your shot +hasn't put 'em out of their misery. Come down, if you've a Christian +heart, come down!” + +Utterly forgetful of all discipline, Drew leaps down hammer in hand, and +the two old comrades rush into each other's arms. + +Why make a long story of what took but five minutes to do? The nine men +(luckily none of them wounded) are freed, and helped on board, to be +hugged and kissed by old comrades and young kinsmen; while the remaining +slaves, furnished with a couple of hammers, are told to free themselves +and help the English. The wretches answer by a shout; and Amyas, once +more safe on board again, dashes after the other galley, which has +been hovering out of reach of his guns: but there is no need to trouble +himself about her; sickened with what she has got, she is struggling +right up wind, leaning over to one side, and seemingly ready to sink. + +“Are there any English on board of her?” asks Amyas, loath to lose the +chance of freeing a countryman. + +“Never a one, sir, thank God.” + +So they set to work to repair damages; while the liberated slaves, +having shifted some of the galley's oars, pull away after their comrade; +and that with such a will, that in ten minutes they have caught her up, +and careless of the Spaniard's fire, boarded her en masse, with yells +as of a thousand wolves. There will be fearful vengeance taken on those +tyrants, unless they play the man this day. + +And in the meanwhile half the crew are clothing, feeding, questioning, +caressing those nine poor fellows thus snatched from living death; +and Yeo, hearing the news, has rushed up on deck to welcome his old +comrades, and-- + +“Is Michael Heard, my cousin, here among you?” + +Yes, Michael Heard is there, white-headed rather from misery than age; +and the embracings and questionings begin afresh. + +“Where is my wife, Salvation Yeo?” + +“With the Lord.” + +“Amen!” says the old man, with a short shudder. “I thought so much; and +my two boys?” + +“With the Lord.” + +The old man catches Yeo by the arm. + +“How, then?” It is Yeo's turn to shudder now. + +“Killed in Panama, fighting the Spaniards; sailing with Mr. Oxenham; and +'twas I led 'em into it. May God and you forgive me!” + +“They couldn't die better, cousin Yeo. Where's my girl Grace?” + +“Died in childbed.” + +“Any childer?” + +“No.” + +The old man covers his face with his hands for a while. + +“Well, I've been alone with the Lord these fifteen years, so I must not +whine at being alone a while longer--'t won't be long.” + +“Put this coat on your back, uncle,” says some one. + +“No; no coats for me. Naked came I into the world, and naked I go out of +it this day, if I have a chance. You'm better to go to your work, lads, +or the big one will have the wind of you yet.” + +“So she will,” said Amyas, who has overheard; but so great is the +curiosity on all hands, that he has some trouble in getting the men +to quarters again; indeed, they only go on condition of parting among +themselves with them the new-comers, each to tell his sad and strange +story. How after Captain Hawkins, constrained by famine, had put them +ashore, they wandered in misery till the Spaniards took them; how, +instead of hanging them (as they at first intended), the Dons fed and +clothed them, and allotted them as servants to various gentlemen about +Mexico, where they throve, turned their hands (like true sailors) to all +manner of trades, and made much money, and some of them were married, +even to women of wealth; so that all went well, until the fatal year +1574, when, “much against the minds of many of the Spaniards themselves, +that cruel and bloody Inquisition was established for the first time in +the Indies;” and how from that moment their lives were one long +tragedy; how they were all imprisoned for a year and a half, not for +proselytizing, but simply for not believing in transubstantiation; +racked again and again, and at last adjudged to receive publicly, on +Good Friday, 1575, some three hundred, some one hundred stripes, and to +serve in the galleys for six or ten years each; while, as the crowning +atrocity of the Moloch sacrifice, three of them were burnt alive in the +market-place of Mexico; a story no less hideous than true, the details +whereof whoso list may read in Hakluyt's third volume, as told by +Philip Miles, one of that hapless crew; as well as the adventures of Job +Hortop, a messmate of his, who, after being sent to Spain, and seeing +two more of his companions burnt alive at Seville, was sentenced to +row in the galleys ten years, and after that to go to the “everlasting +prison remediless;” from which doom, after twenty-three years of +slavery, he was delivered by the galleon Dudley, and came safely home to +Redriff. + +The fate of Hortop and his comrades was, of course, still unknown to +the rescued men; but the history even of their party was not likely to +improve the good feeling of the crew toward the Spanish ship which was +two miles to leeward of them, and which must be fought with, or fled +from, before a quarter of an hour was past. So, kneeling down upon the +deck, as many a brave crew in those days did in like case, they “gave +God thanks devoutly for the favor they had found;” and then with one +accord, at Jack's leading, sang one and all the Ninety-fourth Psalm:* + + “Oh, Lord, thou dost revenge all wrong; + Vengeance belongs to thee,” etc. + + * The crew of the Tobie, cast away on the Barbary coast a + few years after, “began with heavy hearts to sing the + twelfth Psalm, 'Help, Lord, for good and godly men,' etc. + Howbeit, ere we had finished four verses, the waves of the + sea had stopped the breaths of most.” + +And then again to quarters; for half the day's work, or more than half, +still remained to be done; and hardly were the decks cleared afresh, +and the damage repaired as best it could be, when she came ranging up to +leeward, as closehauled as she could. + +She was, as I said, a long flush-decked ship of full five hundred tons, +more than double the size, in fact, of the Rose, though not so lofty in +proportion; and many a bold heart beat loud, and no shame to them, as +she began firing away merrily, determined, as all well knew, to wipe out +in English blood the disgrace of her late foil. + +“Never mind, my merry masters,” said Amyas, “she has quantity and we +quality.” + +“That's true,” said one, “for one honest man is worth two rogues.” + +“And one culverin three of their footy little ordnance,” said another. +“So when you will, captain, and have at her.” + +“Let her come abreast of us, and don't burn powder. We have the wind, +and can do what we like with her. Serve the men out a horn of ale all +round, steward, and all take your time.” + +So they waited for five minutes more, and then set to work quietly, +after the fashion of English mastiffs, though, like those mastiffs, they +waxed right mad before three rounds were fired, and the white splinters +(sight beloved) began to crackle and fly. + +Amyas, having, as he had said, the wind, and being able to go nearer it +than the Spaniard, kept his place at easy point-blank range for his two +eighteen-pounder culverins, which Yeo and his mate worked with terrible +effect. + +“We are lacking her through and through every shot,” said he. “Leave the +small ordnance alone yet awhile, and we shall sink her without them.” + +“Whing, whing,” went the Spaniard's shot, like so many humming-tops, +through the rigging far above their heads; for the ill-constructed +ports of those days prevented the guns from hulling an enemy who was to +windward, unless close alongside. + +“Blow, jolly breeze,” cried one, “and lay the Don over all thou +canst.--What the murrain is gone, aloft there?” + +Alas! a crack, a flap, a rattle; and blank dismay! An unlucky shot had +cut the foremast (already wounded) in two, and all forward was a mass of +dangling wreck. + +“Forward, and cut away the wreck!” said Amyas, unmoved. “Small arm men, +be ready. He will be aboard of us in five minutes!” + +It was too true. The Rose, unmanageable from the loss of her head-sail, +lay at the mercy of the Spaniard; and the archers and musqueteers had +hardly time to range themselves to leeward, when the Madre Dolorosa's +chains were grinding against the Rose's, and grapples tossed on board +from stem to stern. + +“Don't cut them loose!” roared Amyas. “Let them stay and see the fun! +Now, dogs of Devon, show your teeth, and hurrah for God and the queen!” + +And then began a fight most fierce and fell: the Spaniards, according to +their fashion, attempting to board, the English, amid fierce shouts of +“God and the queen!” “God and St. George for England!” sweeping them +back by showers of arrows and musquet balls, thrusting them down with +pikes, hurling grenades and stink-pots from the tops; while the swivels +on both sides poured their grape, and bar, and chain, and the great +main-deck guns, thundering muzzle to muzzle, made both ships quiver and +recoil, as they smashed the round shot through and through each other. + +So they roared and flashed, fast clenched to each other in that devil's +wedlock, under a cloud of smoke beneath the cloudless tropic sky; while +all around, the dolphins gambolled, and the flying-fish shot on from +swell to swell, and the rainbow-hued jellies opened and shut their cups +of living crystal to the sun, as merrily as if man had never fallen, and +hell had never broken loose on earth. + +So it raged for an hour or more, till all arms were weary, and all +tongues clove to the mouth. And sick men, rotting with scurvy, +scrambled up on deck, and fought with the strength of madness; and tiny +powder-boys, handing up cartridges from the hold, laughed and cheered +as the shots ran past their ears; and old Salvation Yeo, a text upon his +lips, and a fury in his heart as of Joshua or Elijah in old time, worked +on, calm and grim, but with the energy of a boy at play. And now and +then an opening in the smoke showed the Spanish captain, in his suit +of black steel armor, standing cool and proud, guiding and pointing, +careless of the iron hail, but too lofty a gentleman to soil his glove +with aught but a knightly sword-hilt: while Amyas and Will, after the +fashion of the English gentlemen, had stripped themselves nearly as bare +as their own sailors, and were cheering, thrusting, hewing, and hauling, +here, there, and everywhere, like any common mariner, and filling them +with a spirit of self-respect, fellow-feeling, and personal daring, +which the discipline of the Spaniards, more perfect mechanically, but +cold and tyrannous, and crushing spiritually, never could bestow. The +black-plumed senor was obeyed; but the golden-locked Amyas was followed, +and would have been followed through the jaws of hell. + +The Spaniards, ere five minutes had passed, poured en masse into the +Rose's waist, but only to their destruction. Between the poop and +forecastle (as was then the fashion) the upper-deck beams were left open +and unplanked, with the exception of a narrow gangway on either side; +and off that fatal ledge the boarders, thrust on by those behind, fell +headlong between the beams to the main-deck below, to be slaughtered +helpless in that pit of destruction, by the double fire from the +bulkheads fore and aft; while the few who kept their footing on +the gangway, after vain attempts to force the stockades on poop and +forecastle, leaped overboard again amid a shower of shot and arrows. +The fire of the English was as steady as it was quick; and though +three-fourths of the crew had never smelt powder before, they proved +well the truth of the old chronicler's saying (since proved again more +gloriously than ever, at Alma, Balaklava, and Inkerman), that “the +English never fight better than in their first battle.” + +Thrice the Spaniards clambered on board, and thrice surged back before +that deadly hail. The decks on both sides were very shambles; and Jack +Brimblecombe, who had fought as long as his conscience would allow him, +found, when he turned to a more clerical occupation, enough to do in +carrying poor wretches to the surgeon, without giving that spiritual +consolation which he longed to give, and they to receive. At last there +was a lull in that wild storm. No shot was heard from the Spaniard's +upper-deck. + +Amyas leaped into the mizzen rigging, and looked through the smoke. Dead +men he could descry through the blinding veil, rolled in heaps, laid +flat; dead men and dying: but no man upon his feet. The last volley had +swept the deck clear; one by one had dropped below to escape that +fiery shower: and alone at the helm, grinding his teeth with rage, his +mustachios curling up to his very eyes, stood the Spanish captain. + +Now was the moment for a counter-stroke. Amyas shouted for the boarders, +and in two minutes more he was over the side, and clutching at the +Spaniard's mizzen rigging. + +What was this? The distance between him and the enemy's side was +widening. Was she sheering off? Yes--and rising too, growing bodily +higher every moment, as if by magic. Amyas looked up in astonishment and +saw what it was. The Spaniard was heeling fast over to leeward away from +him. Her masts were all sloping forward, swifter and swifter--the end +was come, then! + +“Back! in God's name back, men! She is sinking by the head!” And with +much ado some were dragged back, some leaped back--all but old Michael +Heard. + +With hair and beard floating in the wind, the bronzed naked figure, +like some weird old Indian fakir, still climbed on steadfastly up the +mizzen-chains of the Spaniard, hatchet in hand. + +“Come back, Michael! Leap while you may!” shouted a dozen voices. +Michael turned-- + +“And what should I come back for, then, to go home where no one knoweth +me? I'll die like an Englishman this day, or I'll know the rason why!” + and turning, he sprang in over the bulwarks, as the huge ship rolled +up more and more, like a dying whale, exposing all her long black +hulk almost down to the keel, and one of her lower-deck guns, as if in +defiance, exploded upright into the air, hurling the ball to the very +heavens. + +In an instant it was answered from the Rose by a column of smoke, and +the eighteen-pound ball crashed through the bottom of the defenceless +Spaniard. + +“Who fired? Shame to fire on a sinking ship!” + +“Gunner Yeo, sir,” shouted a voice up from the main-deck. “He's like a +madman down here.” + +“Tell him if he fires again, I'll put him in irons, if he were my own +brother. Cut away the grapples aloft, men. Don't you see how she drags +us over? Cut away, or we shall sink with her.” + +They cut away, and the Rose, released from the strain, shook her +feathers on the wave-crest like a freed sea-gull, while all men held +their breaths. + +Suddenly the glorious creature righted herself, and rose again, as if in +noble shame, for one last struggle with her doom. Her bows were deep in +the water, but her after-deck still dry. Righted: but only for a moment, +long enough to let her crew come pouring wildly up on deck, with cries +and prayers, and rush aft to the poop, where, under the flag of Spain, +stood the tall captain, his left hand on the standard-staff, his sword +pointed in his right. + +“Back, men!” they heard him cry, “and die like valiant mariners.” + +Some of them ran to the bulwarks, and shouted “Mercy! We surrender!” and +the English broke into a cheer and called to them to run her alongside. + +“Silence!” shouted Amyas. “I take no surrender from mutineers. Senor,” + cried he to the captain, springing into the rigging and taking off his +hat, “for the love of God and these men, strike! and surrender a buena +querra.” + +The Spaniard lifted his hat and bowed courteously, and answered, +“Impossible, senor. No querra is good which stains my honor.” + +“God have mercy on you, then!” + +“Amen!” said the Spaniard, crossing himself. + +She gave one awful lounge forward, and dived under the coming swell, +hurling her crew into the eddies. Nothing but the point of her poop +remained, and there stood the stern and steadfast Don, cap-a-pie in his +glistening black armor, immovable as a man of iron, while over him the +flag, which claimed the empire of both worlds, flaunted its gold aloft +and upwards in the glare of the tropic noon. + +“He shall not carry that flag to the devil with him; I will have it +yet, if I die for it!” said Will Cary, and rushed to the side to leap +overboard, but Amyas stopped him. + +“Let him die as he has lived, with honor.” + +A wild figure sprang out of the mass of sailors who struggled and +shrieked amid the foam, and rushed upward at the Spaniard. It was +Michael Heard. The Don, who stood above him, plunged his sword into the +old man's body: but the hatchet gleamed, nevertheless: down went the +blade through headpiece and through head; and as Heard sprang onward, +bleeding, but alive, the steel-clad corpse rattled down the deck into +the surge. Two more strokes, struck with the fury of a dying man, and +the standard-staff was hewn through. Old Michael collected all his +strength, hurled the flag far from the sinking ship, and then stood +erect one moment and shouted, “God save Queen Bess!” and the English +answered with a “Hurrah!” which rent the welkin. + +Another moment and the gulf had swallowed his victim, and the poop, and +him; and nothing remained of the Madre Dolorosa but a few floating spars +and struggling wretches, while a great awe fell upon all men, and a +solemn silence, broken only by the cry + + “Of some strong swimmer in his agony.” + +And then, suddenly collecting themselves, as men awakened from a dream, +half-a-dozen desperate gallants, reckless of sharks and eddies, leaped +overboard, swam towards the flag, and towed it alongside in triumph. + +“Ah!” said Salvation Yeo, as he helped the trophy up over the side; “ah! +it was not for nothing that we found poor Michael! He was always a good +comrade--nigh as good a one as William Penberthy of Marazion, whom the +Lord grant I meet in bliss! And now, then, my masters, shall we inshore +again and burn La Guayra?” + +“Art thou never glutted with Spanish blood, thou old wolf?” asked Will +Cary. + +“Never, sir,” answered Yeo. + +“To St. Jago be it,” said Amyas, “if we can get there; but--God help +us!” + +And he looked round sadly enough; while no one needed that he should +finish his sentence, or explain his “but.” + +The foremast was gone, the main-yard sprung, the rigging hanging in +elf-locks, the hull shot through and through in twenty places, the deck +strewn with the bodies of nine good men, beside sixteen wounded down +below; while the pitiless sun, right above their heads, poured down a +flood of fire upon a sea of glass. + +And it would have been well if faintness and weariness had been all that +was the matter; but now that the excitement was over, the collapse came; +and the men sat down listlessly and sulkily by twos and threes upon the +deck, starting and wincing when they heard some poor fellow below cry +out under the surgeon's knife; or murmuring to each other that all was +lost. Drew tried in vain to rouse them, telling them that all depended +on rigging a jury-mast forward as soon as possible. They answered only +by growls; and at last broke into open reproaches. Even Will Cary's +volatile nature, which had kept him up during the fight, gave way, when +Yeo and the carpenter came aft, and told Amyas in a low voice-- + +“We are hit somewhere forward, below the water-line, sir. She leaks a +terrible deal, and the Lord will not vouchsafe to us to lay our hands on +the place, for all our searching.” + +“What are we to do now, Amyas, in the devil's name?” asked Cary, +peevishly. + +“What are we to do, in God's name, rather,” answered Amyas, in a low +voice. “Will, Will, what did God make you a gentleman for, but to know +better than those poor fickle fellows forward, who blow hot and cold at +every change of weather!” + +“I wish you'd come forward and speak to them, sir,” said Yeo, who had +overheard the last words, “or we shall get naught done.” + +Amyas went forward instantly. + +“Now then, my brave lads, what's the matter here, that you are all +sitting on your tails like monkeys?” + +“Ugh!” grunts one. “Don't you think our day's work has been long enough +yet, captain?” + +“You don't want us to go in to La Guayra again, sir? There are enough of +us thrown away already, I reckon, about that wench there.” + +“Best sit here, and sink quietly. There's no getting home again, that's +plain.” + +“Why were we brought out here to be killed?” + +“For shame, men!” cries Yeo; “you're no better than a set of +stiff-necked Hebrew Jews, murmuring against Moses the very minute after +the Lord has delivered you from the Egyptians.” + +Now I do not wish to set Amyas up as a perfect man; for he had his +faults, like every one else; nor as better, thank God, than many and +many a brave and virtuous captain in her majesty's service at this very +day: but certainly he behaved admirably under that trial. Drake had +trained him, as he trained many another excellent officer, to be as +stout in discipline, and as dogged of purpose, as he himself was: but +he had trained him also to feel with and for his men, to make allowances +for them, and to keep his temper with them, as he did this day. True, he +had seen Drake in a rage; he had seen him hang one man for a mutiny +(and that man his dearest friend), and threaten to hang thirty more; +but Amyas remembered well that that explosion took place when having, as +Drake said publicly himself, “taken in hand that I know not in the world +how to go through with; it passeth my capacity; it hath even bereaved +me of my wits to think of it,” . . . and having “now set together by +the ears three mighty princes, her majesty and the kings of Spain +and Portugal,” he found his whole voyage ready to come to naught, “by +mutinies and discords, controversy between the sailors and gentlemen, +and stomaching between the gentlemen and sailors.” “But, my masters” + (quoth the self-trained hero, and Amyas never forgot his words), “I must +have it left; for I must have the gentlemen to haul and draw with the +mariner, and the mariner with the gentlemen. I would like to know him +that would refuse to set his hand to a rope!” + +And now Amyas's conscience smote him (and his simple and pious soul took +the loss of his brother as God's verdict on his conduct), because he had +set his own private affection, even his own private revenge, before the +safety of his ship's company, and the good of his country. + +“Ah,” said he to himself, as he listened to his men's reproaches, “if +I had been thinking, like a loyal soldier, of serving my queen, and +crippling the Spaniard, I should have taken that great bark three days +ago, and in it the very man I sought!” + +So “choking down his old man,” as Yeo used to say, he made answer +cheerfully-- + +“Pooh! pooh! brave lads! For shame, for shame! You were lions +half-an-hour ago; you are not surely turned sheep already! Why, but +yesterday evening you were grumbling because I would not run in and +fight those three ships under the batteries of La Guayra, and now +you think it too much to have fought them fairly out at sea? What has +happened but the chances of war, which might have happened anywhere? +Nothing venture, nothing win; and nobody goes bird-nesting without a +fall at times. If any one wants to be safe in this life, he'd best stay +at home and keep his bed; though even there, who knows but the roof +might fall through on him?” + +“Ah, it's all very well for you, captain,” said some grumbling younker, +with a vague notion that Amyas must be better off than he, because he +was a gentleman. Amyas's blood rose. + +“Yes, sirrah! it is very well for me, as long as God is with me: but He +is with every man in this ship, I would have you to know, as much as +He is with me. Do you fancy that I have nothing to lose? I who have +adventured in this voyage all I am worth, and more; who, if I fail, must +return to beggary and scorn? And if I have ventured rashly, sinfully, +if you will, the lives of any of you in my own private quarrel, am I not +punished? Have I not lost--?” + +His voice trembled and stopped there, but he recovered himself in a +moment. + +“Pish! I can't stand here chattering. Carpenter! an axe! and help me to +cast these spars loose. Get out of my way, there! lumbering the scuppers +up like so many moulting fowls! Here, all old friends, lend a hand! +Pelican's men, stand by your captain! Did we sail round the world for +nothing?” + +This last appeal struck home, and up leaped half-a-dozen of the old +Pelicans, and set to work at his side manfully to rig the jury-mast. + +“Come along!” cried Cary to the malcontents; “we're raw longshore +fellows, but we won't be outdone by any old sea-dog of them all.” And +setting to work himself, he was soon followed by one and another, till +order and work went on well enough. + +“And where are we going, when the mast's up?” shouted some saucy hand +from behind. + +“Where you daren't follow us alone by yourself, so you had better keep +us company,” replied Yeo. + +“I'll tell you where we are going, lads,” said Amyas, rising from his +work. “Like it or leave it as you will, I have no secrets from my crew. +We are going inshore there to find a harbor, and careen the ship.” + +There was a start and a murmur. + +“Inshore? Into the Spaniards' mouths?” + +“All in the Inquisition in a week's time.” + +“Better stay here, and be drowned.” + +“You're right in that last,” shouts Cary. “That's the right death for +blind puppies. Look you! I don't know in the least where we are, and I +hardly know stem from stern aboard ship; and the captain may be right or +wrong--that's nothing to me; but this I know, that I am a soldier, and +will obey orders; and where he goes, I go; and whosoever hinders me must +walk up my sword to do it.” + +Amyas pressed Cary's hand, and then-- + +“And here's my broadside next, men. I'll go nowhere, and do nothing +without the advice of Salvation Yeo and Robert Drew; and if any man in +the ship knows better than these two, let him up, and we'll give him a +hearing. Eh, Pelicans?” + +There was a grunt of approbation from the Pelicans; and Amyas returned +to the charge. + +“We have five shot between wind and water, and one somewhere below. Can +we face a gale of wind in that state, or can we not?” + +Silence. + +“Can we get home with a leak in our bottom?” + +Silence. + +“Then what can we do but run inshore, and take our chance? Speak! It's +a coward's trick to do nothing because what we must do is not pleasant. +Will you be like children, that would sooner die than take nasty physic, +or will you not?” + +Silence still. + +“Come along now! Here's the wind again round with the sun, and up to the +north-west. In with her!” + +Sulkily enough, but unable to deny the necessity, the men set to work, +and the vessel's head was put toward the land; but when she began to +slip through the water, the leak increased so fast, that they were kept +hard at work at the pumps for the rest of the afternoon. + +The current had by this time brought them abreast of the bay of +Higuerote; and, luckily for them, safe out of the short heavy swell +which it causes round Cape Codera. Looking inland, they had now to the +south-west that noble headland, backed by the Caracas Mountains, range +on range, up to the Silla and the Neguater; while, right ahead of them +to the south, the shore sank suddenly into a low line of mangrove-wood, +backed by primaeval forest. As they ran inward, all eyes were strained +greedily to find some opening in the mangrove belt; but none was to +be seen for some time. The lead was kept going; and every fresh heave +announced shallower water. + +“We shall have very shoal work off those mangroves, Yeo,” said Amyas; “I +doubt whether we shall do aught now, unless we find a river's mouth.” + +“If the Lord thinks a river good for us, sir, He'll show us one.” So on +they went, keeping a south-east course, and at last an opening in the +mangrove belt was hailed with a cheer from the older hands, though +the majority shrugged their shoulders, as men going open-eyed to +destruction. + +Off the mouth they sent in Drew and Cary with a boat, and watched +anxiously for an hour. The boat returned with a good report of two +fathoms of water over the bar, impenetrable forests for two miles up, +the river sixty yards broad, and no sign of man. The river's banks were +soft and sloping mud, fit for careening. + +“Safe quarters, sir,” said Yeo, privately, “as far as Spaniards go. I +hope in God it may be as safe from calentures and fevers.” + +“Beggars must not be choosers,” said Amyas. So in they went. + +They towed the ship up about half-a-mile to a point where she could not +be seen from the seaward; and there moored her to the mangrove-stems. +Amyas ordered a boat out, and went up the river himself to reconnoitre. +He rowed some three miles, till the river narrowed suddenly, and was all +but covered in by the interlacing boughs of mighty trees. There was no +sign that man had been there since the making of the world. + +He dropped down the stream again, thoughtfully and sadly. How many years +ago was it that he passed this river's mouth? Three days. And yet how +much had passed in them! Don Guzman found and lost--Rose found and +lost--a great victory gained, and yet lost--perhaps his ship lost--above +all, his brother lost. + +Lost! O God, how should he find his brother? + +Some strange bird out of the woods made mournful answer--“Never, never, +never!” + +How should he face his mother? + +“Never, never, never!” wailed the bird again; and Amyas smiled bitterly, +and said “Never!” likewise. + +The night mist began to steam and wreathe upon the foul beer-colored +stream. The loathy floor of liquid mud lay bare beneath the mangrove +forest. Upon the endless web of interarching roots great purple crabs +were crawling up and down. They would have supped with pleasure upon +Amyas's corpse; perhaps they might sup on him after all; for a heavy +sickening graveyard smell made his heart sink within him, and his +stomach heave; and his weary body, and more weary soul, gave themselves +up helplessly to the depressing influence of that doleful place. +The black bank of dingy leathern leaves above his head, the endless +labyrinth of stems and withes (for every bough had lowered its own +living cord, to take fresh hold of the foul soil below); the web of +roots, which stretched away inland till it was lost in the shades of +evening--all seemed one horrid complicated trap for him and his; and +even where, here and there, he passed the mouth of a lagoon, there was +no opening, no relief--nothing but the dark ring of mangroves, and here +and there an isolated group of large and small, parents and children, +breeding and spreading, as if in hideous haste to choke out air and sky. +Wailing sadly, sad-colored mangrove-hens ran off across the mud into the +dreary dark. The hoarse night-raven, hid among the roots, startled the +voyagers with a sudden shout, and then all was again silent as a grave. +The loathly alligators, lounging in the slime, lifted their horny +eyelids lazily, and leered upon him as he passed with stupid savageness. +Lines of tall herons stood dimly in the growing gloom, like white +fantastic ghosts, watching the passage of the doomed boat. All was foul, +sullen, weird as witches' dream. If Amyas had seen a crew of skeletons +glide down the stream behind him, with Satan standing at the helm, he +would have scarcely been surprised. What fitter craft could haunt that +Stygian flood? + +That night every man of the boat's crew, save Amyas, was down with +raging fever; before ten the next morning, five more men were taken, and +others sickening fast. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +HOW THEY TOOK THE COMMUNION UNDER THE TREE AT HIGUEROTE + + “Follow thee? Follow thee? Wha wad na follow thee? Lang hast + thou looed and trusted us fairly.” + +Amyas would have certainly taken the yellow fever, but for one reason, +which he himself gave to Cary. He had no time to be sick while his men +were sick; a valid and sufficient reason (as many a noble soul in +the Crimea has known too well), as long as the excitement of work is +present, but too apt to fail the hero, and to let him sink into the pit +which he has so often over-leapt, the moment that his work is done. + +He called a council of war, or rather a sanitary commission, the +next morning; for he was fairly at his wits' end. The men were +panic-stricken, ready to mutiny: Amyas told them that he could not see +any possible good which could accrue to them by killing him, or--(for +there were two sides to every question)--being killed by him; and then +went below to consult. The doctor talked mere science, or nonscience, +about humors, complexions, and animal spirits. Jack Brimblecombe, mere +pulpit, about its being the visitation of God. Cary, mere despair, +though he jested over it with a smile. Yeo, mere stoic fatalism, though +he quoted Scripture to back the same. Drew, the master, had nothing to +say. His “business was to sail the ship, and not to cure calentures.” + +Whereon Amyas clutched his locks, according to custom; and at last broke +forth--“Doctor! a fig for your humors and complexions! Can you cure +a man's humors, or change his complexion? Can an Ethiopian change his +skin, or a leopard his spots? Don't shove off your ignorance on God, +sir. I ask you what's the reason of this sickness, and you don't know. +Jack Brimblecombe, don't talk to me about God's visitation; this looks +much more like the devil's visitation, to my mind. We are doing God's +work, Sir John, and He is not likely to hinder us. So down with the +devil, say I. Cary, laughing killed the cat, but it won't cure a +Christian. Yeo, when an angel tells me that it's God's will that we +should all die like dogs in a ditch, I'll call this God's will; but not +before. Drew, you say your business is to sail the ship; then sail her +out of this infernal poison-trap this very morning, if you can, which +you can't. The mischief's in the air, and nowhere else. I felt it run +through me coming down last night, and smelt it like any sewer: and +if it was not in the air, why was my boat's crew taken first, tell me +that?” + +There was no answer. + +“Then I'll tell you why they were taken first: because the mist, when +we came through it, only rose five or six feet above the stream, and we +were in it, while you on board were above it. And those that were taken +on board this morning, every one of them, slept on the main-deck, and +every one of them, too, was in fear of the fever, whereby I judge two +things,--Keep as high as you can, and fear nothing but God, and we're +all safe yet.” + +“But the fog was up to our round-tops at sunrise this morning,” said +Cary. + +“I know it: but we who were on the half-deck were not in it so long as +those below, and that may have made the difference, let alone our having +free air. Beside, I suspect the heat in the evening draws the poison out +more, and that when it gets cold toward morning, the venom of it goes +off somehow.” + +How it went off Amyas could not tell (right in his facts as he was), for +nobody on earth knew I suppose, at that day; and it was not till +nearly two centuries of fatal experience that the settlers in America +discovered the simple laws of these epidemics which now every child +knows, or ought to know. But common sense was on his side; and Yeo rose +and spoke-- + +“As I have said before, many a time, the Lord has sent us a very young +Daniel for judge. I remember now to have heard the Spaniards say, how +these calentures lay always in the low ground, and never came more than +a few hundred feet above the sea.” + +“Let us go up those few hundred feet, then.” + +Every man looked at Amyas, and then at his neighbor. + +“Gentlemen, 'Look the devil straight in the face, if you would hit him +in the right place.' We cannot get the ship to sea as she is; and if we +could, we cannot go home empty-handed; and we surely cannot stay here to +die of fever.--We must leave the ship and go inland.” + +“Inland?” answered every voice but Yeo's. + +“Up those hundred feet which Yeo talks of. Up to the mountains; stockade +a camp, and get our sick and provisions thither.” + +“And what next?” + +“And when we are recruited, march over the mountains, and surprise St. +Jago de Leon.” + +Cary swore a great oath. “Amyas! you are a daring fellow!” + +“Not a bit. It's the plain path of prudence.” + +“So it is, sir,” said old Yeo, “and I follow you in it.” + +“And so do I,” squeaked Jack Brimblecombe. + +“Nay, then, Jack, thou shalt not outrun me. So I say yes too,” quoth +Cary. + +“Mr. Drew?” + +“At your service, sir, to live or die. I know naught about stockading; +but Sir Francis would have given the same counsel, I verily believe, if +he had been in your place.” + +“Then tell the men that we start in an hour's time. Win over the +Pelicans, Yeo and Drew; and the rest must follow, like sheep over a +hedge.” + +The Pelicans, and the liberated galley-slaves, joined the project at +once; but the rest gave Amyas a stormy hour. The great question was, +where were the hills? In that dense mangrove thicket they could not see +fifty yards before them. + +“The hills are not three miles to the south-west of you at this moment,” + said Amyas. “I marked every shoulder of them as we ran in.” + +“I suppose you meant to take us there?” + +The question set a light to a train--and angry suspicions were blazing +up one after another, but Amyas silenced them with a countermine. + +“Fools! if I had not wit enow to look ahead a little farther than you +do, where would you be? Are you mad as well as reckless, to rise against +your own captain because he has two strings to his bow? Go my way, I +say, or, as I live, I'll blow up the ship and every soul on board, and +save you the pain of rotting here by inches.” + +The men knew that Amyas never said what he did not intend to do; not +that Amyas intended to do this, because he knew that the threat would be +enough. So they, agreed to go; and were reassured by seeing that the old +Pelican's men turned to the work heartily and cheerfully. + +There is no use keeping the reader for five or six weary hours, under a +broiling (or rather stewing) sun, stumbling over mangrove roots, hewing +his way through thorny thickets, dragging sick men and provisions up +mountain steeps, amid disappointment, fatigue, murmurs, curses, snakes, +mosquitoes, false alarms of Spaniards, and every misery, save cold, +which flesh is heir to. Suffice it that by sunset that evening they had +gained a level spot, a full thousand feet above the sea, backed by an +inaccessible cliff which formed the upper shoulder of a mighty mountain, +defended below by steep wooded slopes, and needing but the felling of a +few trees to make it impregnable. + +Amyas settled the sick under the arched roots of an enormous cottonwood +tree, and made a second journey to the ship, to bring up hammocks and +blankets for them; while Yeo's wisdom and courage were of inestimable +value. He, as pioneer, had found the little brook up which they forced +their way; he had encouraged them to climb the cliffs over which it +fell, arguing rightly that on its course they were sure to find some +ground fit for encampment within the reach of water; he had supported +Amyas, when again and again the weary crew entreated to be dragged no +farther, and had gone back again a dozen times to cheer them upward; +while Cary, who brought up the rear, bullied and cheered on the +stragglers who sat down and refused to move, drove back at the sword's +point more than one who was beating a retreat, carried their burdens for +them, sang them songs on the halt; in all things approving himself the +gallant and hopeful soul which he had always been: till Amyas, beside +himself with joy at finding that the two men on whom he had counted +most were utterly worthy of his trust, went so far as to whisper to them +both, in confidence, that very night-- + +“Cortez burnt his ships when he landed. Why should not we?” + +Yeo leapt upright; and then sat down again, and whispered-- + +“Do you say that, captain? 'Tis from above, then, that's certain; for +it's been hanging on my mind too all day.” + +“There's no hurry,” quoth Amyas; “we must clear her out first, you +know,” while Cary sat silent and musing. Amyas had evidently more +schemes in his head than he chose to tell. + +The men were too tired that evening to do much, but ere the sun rose +next morning Amyas had them hard at work fortifying their position. It +was, as I said, strong enough by nature; for though it was commanded by +high cliffs on three sides, yet there was no chance of an enemy coming +over the enormous mountain-range behind them, and still less chance +that, if he came, he would discover them through the dense mass of +trees which crowned the cliff, and clothed the hills for a thousand feet +above. The attack, if it took place, would come from below; and against +that Amyas guarded by felling the smaller trees, and laying them with +their boughs outward over the crest of the slope, thus forming an abatis +(as every one who has shot in thick cover knows to his cost) warranted +to bring up in two steps, horse, dog, or man. The trunks were sawn into +logs, laid lengthwise, and steadied by stakes and mould; and three or +four hours' hard work finished a stockade which would defy anything +but artillery. The work done, Amyas scrambled up into the boughs of the +enormous ceiba-tree, and there sat inspecting his own handiwork, looking +out far and wide over the forest-covered plains and the blue sea beyond, +and thinking, in his simple straightforward way, of what was to be done +next. + +To stay there long was impossible; to avenge himself upon La Guayra was +impossible; to go until he had found out whether Frank was alive or dead +seemed at first equally impossible. But were Brimblecombe, Cary, and +those eighty men to be sacrificed a second time to his private interest? +Amyas wept with rage, and then wept again with earnest, honest prayer, +before he could make up his mind. But he made it up. There were a +hundred chances to one that Frank was dead; and if not, he was equally +past their help; for he was--Amyas knew that too well--by this time +in the hands of the Inquisition. Who could lift him from that pit? Not +Amyas, at least! And crying aloud in his agony, “God help him! for I +cannot!” Amyas made up his mind to move. But whither? Many an hour he +thought and thought alone, there in his airy nest; and at last he went +down, calm and cheerful, and drew Cary and Yeo aside. They could not, +he said, refit the ship without dying of fever during the process; an +assertion which neither of his hearers was bold enough to deny. Even +if they refitted her, they would be pretty certain to have to fight the +Spaniards again; for it was impossible to doubt the Indian's story, that +they had been forewarned of the Rose's coming, or to doubt, either, that +Eustace had been the traitor. + +“Let us try St. Jago, then; sack it, come down on La Guayra in the rear, +take a ship there, and so get home.” + +“Nay, Will. If they have strengthened themselves against us at La +Guayra, where they had little to lose, surely they have done so at St. +Jago, where they have much. I hear the town is large, though new; and +besides, how can we get over these mountains without a guide?” + +“Or with one?” said Cary, with a sigh, looking up at the vast walls of +wood and rock which rose range on range for miles. “But it is strange to +find you, at least, throwing cold water on a daring plot.” + +“What if I had a still more daring one? Did you ever hear of the golden +city of Manoa?” + +Yeo laughed a grim but joyful laugh. “I have, sir; and so have the old +hands from the Pelican and the Jesus of Lubec, I doubt not.” + +“So much the better;” and Amyas began to tell Cary all which he had +learned from the Spaniard, while Yeo capped every word thereof with +rumors and traditions of his own gathering. Cary sat half aghast as +the huge phantasmagoria unfolded itself before his dazzled eyes; and at +last-- + +“So that was why you wanted to burn the ship! Well, after all, nobody +needs me at home, and one less at table won't be missed. So you want to +play Cortez, eh?” + +“We shall never need to play Cortez (who was not such a bad fellow after +all, Will), because we shall have no such cannibal fiends' tyranny to +rid the earth of, as he had. And I trust we shall fear God enough not to +play Pizarro.” + +So the conversation dropped for the time, but none of them forgot it. + +In that mountain-nook the party spent some ten days and more. Several of +the sick men died, some from the fever superadded to their wounds; +some, probably, from having been bled by the surgeon; the others mended +steadily, by the help of certain herbs which Yeo administered, much +to the disgust of the doctor, who, of course, wanted to bleed the poor +fellows all round, and was all but mutinous when Amyas stayed his hand. +In the meanwhile, by dint of daily trips to the ship, provisions +were plentiful enough,--beside the raccoons, monkeys, and other small +animals, which Yeo and the veterans of Hawkins's crew knew how to catch, +and the fruit and vegetables; above all, the delicious mountain cabbage +of the Areca palm, and the fresh milk of the cow-tree, which they +brought in daily, paying well thereby for the hospitality they received. + +All day long a careful watch was kept among the branches of the mighty +ceiba-tree. And what a tree that was! The hugest English oak would have +seemed a stunted bush beside it. Borne up on roots, or rather walls, +of twisted board, some twelve feet high, between which the whole +crew, their ammunitions, and provisions, were housed roomily, rose +the enormous trunk full forty feet in girth, towering like some tall +lighthouse, smooth for a hundred feet, then crowned with boughs, each of +which was a stately tree, whose topmost twigs were full two hundred +and fifty feet from the ground. And yet it was easy for the sailors to +ascend; so many natural ropes had kind Nature lowered for their use, in +the smooth lianes which hung to the very earth, often without a knot or +leaf. Once in the tree, you were within a new world, suspended between +heaven and earth, and as Cary said, no wonder if, like Jack when he +climbed the magic bean-stalk, you had found a castle, a giant, and a few +acres of well-stocked park, packed away somewhere amid that labyrinth of +timber. Flower-gardens at least were there in plenty; for every limb was +covered with pendent cactuses, gorgeous orchises, and wild pines; and +while one-half the tree was clothed in rich foliage, the other half, +utterly leafless, bore on every twig brilliant yellow flowers, around +which humming-birds whirred all day long. Parrots peeped in and out of +every cranny, while, within the airy woodland, brilliant lizards basked +like living gems upon the bark, gaudy finches flitted and chirruped, +butterflies of every size and color hovered over the topmost twigs, +innumerable insects hummed from morn till eve; and when the sun went +down, tree-toads came out to snore and croak till dawn. There was more +life round that one tree than in a whole square mile of English soil. + +And Amyas, as he lounged among the branches, felt at moments as if he +would be content to stay there forever, and feed his eyes and ears +with all its wonders--and then started sighing from his dream, as he +recollected that a few days must bring the foe upon them, and force +him to decide upon some scheme at which the bravest heart might falter +without shame. So there he sat (for he often took the scout's place +himself), looking out over the fantastic tropic forest at his feet, +and the flat mangrove-swamps below, and the white sheet of foam-flecked +blue; and yet no sail appeared; and the men, as their fear of fever +subsided, began to ask when they would go down and refit the ship, and +Amyas put them off as best he could, till one noon he saw slipping +along the shore from the westward, a large ship under easy sail, and +recognized in her, or thought he did so, the ship which they had passed +upon their way. + +If it was she, she must have run past them to La Guayra in the night, +and have now returned, perhaps, to search for them along the coast. + +She crept along slowly. He was in hopes that she might pass the river's +mouth: but no. She lay-to close to the shore; and, after a while, Amyas +saw two boats pull in from her, and vanish behind the mangroves. + +Sliding down a liane, he told what he had seen. The men, tired of +inactivity, received the news with a shout of joy, and set to work to +make all ready for their guests. Four brass swivels, which they had +brought up, were mounted, fixed in logs, so as to command the path; the +musketeers and archers clustered round them with their tackle ready, and +half-a-dozen good marksmen volunteered into the cotton-tree with their +arquebuses, as a post whence “a man might have very pretty shooting.” + Prayers followed as a matter of course, and dinner as a matter of +course also; but two weary hours passed before there was any sign of the +Spaniards. + +Presently a wreath of white smoke curled up from the swamp, and then the +report of a caliver. Then, amid the growls of the English, the Spanish +flag ran up above the trees, and floated--horrible to behold--at the +mast-head of the Rose. They were signalling the ship for more hands; +and, in effect, a third boat soon pushed off and vanished into the +forest. + +Another hour, during which the men had thoroughly lost their temper, but +not their hearts, by waiting; and talked so loud, and strode up and down +so wildly, that Amyas had to warn them that there was no need to betray +themselves; that the Spaniards might not find them after all; that they +might pass the stockade close without seeing it; that, unless they hit +off the track at once, they would probably return to their ship for the +present; and exacted a promise from them that they would be perfectly +silent till he gave the word to fire. + +Which wise commands had scarcely passed his lips, when, in the path +below, glanced the headpiece of a Spanish soldier, and then another and +another. + +“Fools!” whispered Amyas to Cary; “they are coming up in single file, +rushing on their own death. Lie close, men!” + +The path was so narrow that two could seldom come up abreast, and so +steep that the enemy had much ado to struggle and stumble upwards. The +men seemed half unwilling to proceed, and hung back more than once; +but Amyas could hear an authoritative voice behind, and presently there +emerged to the front, sword in hand, a figure at which Amyas and Cary +both started. + +“Is it he?” + +“Surely I know those legs among a thousand, though they are in armor.” + +“It is my turn for him, now, Cary, remember! Silence, silence, men!” + +The Spaniards seemed to feel that they were leading a forlorn hope. Don +Guzman (for there was little doubt that it was he) had much ado to get +them on at all. + +“The fellows have heard how gently we handled the Guayra squadron,” + whispers Cary, “and have no wish to become fellow-martyrs with the +captain of the Madre Dolorosa.” + +At last the Spaniards get up the steep slope to within forty yards of +the stockade, and pause, suspecting a trap, and puzzled by the complete +silence. Amyas leaps on the top of it, a white flag in his hand; but his +heart beats so fiercely at the sight of that hated figure, that he can +hardly get out the words-- + +“Don Guzman, the quarrel is between you and me, not between your men and +mine. I would have sent in a challenge to you at La Guayra, but you were +away; I challenge you now to single combat.” + +“Lutheran dog, I have a halter for you, but no sword! As you served us +at Smerwick, we will serve you now. Pirate and ravisher, you and yours +shall share Oxenham's fate, as you have copied his crimes, and learn +what it is to set foot unbidden on the dominions of the king of Spain.” + +“The devil take you and the king of Spain together!” shouts Amyas, +laughing loudly. “This ground belongs to him no more than it does to +me, but to the Queen Elizabeth, in whose name I have taken as lawful +possession of it as you ever did of Caracas. Fire, men! and God defend +the right!” + +Both parties obeyed the order; Amyas dropped down behind the stockade +in time to let a caliver bullet whistle over his head; and the Spaniards +recoiled as the narrow face of the stockade burst into one blaze of +musketry and swivels, raking their long array from front to rear. + +The front ranks fell over each other in heaps; the rear ones turned and +ran; overtaken, nevertheless, by the English bullets and arrows, which +tumbled them headlong down the steep path. + +“Out, men, and charge them. See! the Don is running like the rest!” And +scrambling over the abattis, Amyas and about thirty followed them fast; +for he had hope of learning from some prisoner his brother's fate. + +Amyas was unjust in his last words. Don Guzman, as if by miracle, had +been only slightly wounded; and seeing his men run, had rushed back and +tried to rally them, but was borne away by the fugitives. + +However, the Spaniards were out of sight among the thick bushes before +the English could overtake them; and Amyas, afraid lest they should +rally and surround his small party, withdrew sorely against his will, +and found in the pathway fourteen Spaniards, but all dead. For one of +the wounded, with more courage than wisdom, had fired on the English +as he lay; and Amyas's men, whose blood was maddened both by their +desperate situation, and the frightful stories of the rescued +galley-slaves, had killed them all before their captain could stop them. + +“Are you mad?” cries Amyas, as he strikes up one fellow's sword. “Will +you kill an Indian?” + +And he drags out of the bushes an Indian lad of sixteen, who, slightly +wounded, is crawling away like a copper snake along the ground. + +“The black vermin has sent an arrow through my leg; and poisoned too, +most like.” + +“God grant not: but an Indian is worth his weight in gold to us now,” + said Amyas, tucking his prize under his arm like a bundle. The lad, as +soon as he saw there was no escape, resigned himself to his fate with +true Indian stoicism, was brought in, and treated kindly enough, but +refused to eat. For which, after much questioning, he gave as a reason, +that he would make them kill him at once; for fat him they should not; +and gradually gave them to understand that the English always (so +at least the Spaniards said) fatted and ate their prisoners like +the Caribs; and till he saw them go out and bury the bodies of the +Spaniards, nothing would persuade him that the corpses were not to be +cooked for supper. + +However, kind words, kind looks, and the present of that inestimable +treasure--a knife, brought him to reason; and he told Amyas that he +belonged to a Spaniard who had an “encomienda” of Indians some fifteen +miles to the south-west; that he had fled from his master, and lived +by hunting for some months past; and having seen the ship where she lay +moored, and boarded her in hope of plunder, had been surprised therein +by the Spaniards, and forced by threats to go with them as a guide in +their search for the English. But now came a part of his story which +filled the soul of Amyas with delight. He was an Indian of the Llanos, +or great savannahs which lay to the southward beyond the mountains, and +had actually been upon the Orinoco. He had been stolen as a boy by some +Spaniards, who had gone down (as was the fashion of the Jesuits even +as late as 1790) for the pious purpose of converting the savages by the +simple process of catching, baptizing, and making servants of those +whom they could carry off, and murdering those who resisted their gentle +method of salvation. Did he know the way back again? Who could ask such +a question of an Indian? And the lad's black eyes flashed fire, as Amyas +offered him liberty and iron enough for a dozen Indians, if he would +lead them through the passes of the mountains, and southward to the +mighty river, where lay their golden hopes. Hernando de Serpa, Amyas +knew, had tried the same course, which was supposed to be about one +hundred and twenty leagues, and failed, being overthrown utterly by the +Wikiri Indians; but Amyas knew enough of the Spaniards' brutal method +of treating those Indians, to be pretty sure that they had brought that +catastrophe upon themselves, and that he might avoid it well enough by +that common justice and mercy toward the savages which he had learned +from his incomparable tutor, Francis Drake. + +Now was the time to speak; and, assembling his men around him, Amyas +opened his whole heart, simply and manfully. This was their only hope +of safety. Some of them had murmured that they should perish like John +Oxenham's crew. This plan was rather the only way to avoid perishing +like them. Don Guzman would certainly return to seek them; and not only +he, but land-forces from St. Jago. Even if the stockade was not forced, +they would be soon starved out; why not move at once, ere the Spaniards +could return, and begin a blockade? As for taking St. Jago, it was +impossible. The treasure would all be safely hidden, and the town well +prepared to meet them. If they wanted gold and glory, they must seek it +elsewhere. Neither was there any use in marching along the coast, and +trying the ports: ships could outstrip them, and the country was already +warned. There was but this one chance; and on it Amyas, the first and +last time in his life, waxed eloquent, and set forth the glory of the +enterprise, the service to the queen, the salvation of heathens, and +the certainty that, if successful, they should win honor and wealth and +everlasting fame, beyond that of Cortez or Pizarro, till the men, sulky +at first, warmed every moment; and one old Pelican broke out with-- + +“Yes, sir! we didn't go round the world with you for naught; and watched +your works and ways, which was always those of a gentleman, as you +are--who spoke a word for a poor fellow when he was in a scrape, and saw +all you ought to see, and naught that you ought not. And we'll follow +you, sir, all alone to ourselves; and let those that know you worse +follow after when they're come to their right mind.” + +Man after man capped this brave speech; the minority, who, if they liked +little to go, liked still less to be left behind, gave in their consent +perforce; and, to make a long story short, Amyas conquered, and the plan +was accepted. + +“This,” said Amyas, “is indeed the proudest day of my life! I have lost +one brother, but I have gained fourscore. God do so to me and more also, +if I do not deal with you according to the trust which you have put in +me this day!” + +We, I suppose, are to believe that we have a right to laugh at Amyas's +scheme as frantic and chimerical. It is easy to amuse ourselves with the +premises, after the conclusion has been found for us. We know, now, that +he was mistaken: but we have not discovered his mistake for ourselves, +and have no right to plume ourselves on other men's discoveries. Had we +lived in Amyas's days, we should have belonged either to the many wise +men who believed as he did, or to the many foolish men, who not only +sneered at the story of Manoa, but at a hundred other stories, which we +now know to be true. Columbus was laughed at: but he found a new world, +nevertheless. Cortez was laughed at: but he found Mexico. Pizarro: but +he found Peru. I ask any fair reader of those two charming books, Mr. +Prescott's Conquest of Mexico and his Conquest of Peru, whether the true +wonders in them described do not outdo all the false wonders of Manoa. + +But what reason was there to think them false? One quarter, perhaps, of +America had been explored, and yet in that quarter two empires had been +already found, in a state of mechanical, military, and agricultural +civilization superior, in many things, to any nation of Europe. Was +it not most rational to suppose that in the remaining three-quarters +similar empires existed? If a second Mexico had been discovered in the +mountains of Parima, and a second Peru in those of Brazil, what right +would any man have had to wonder? As for the gold legends, nothing was +told of Manoa which had not been seen in Peru and Mexico by the bodily +eyes of men then living. Why should not the rocks of Guiana have been +as full of the precious metals (we do not know yet that they are not) as +the rocks of Peru and Mexico were known to be? Even the details of the +story, its standing on a lake, for instance, bore a probability with +them. Mexico actually stood in the centre of a lake--why should not +Manoa? The Peruvian worship centred round a sacred lake--why not that +of Manoa? Pizarro and Cortez, again, were led on to their desperate +enterprises by the sight of small quantities of gold among savages, who +told them of a civilized gold-country near at hand; and they found that +those savages spoke truth. Why was the unanimous report of the Carib +tribes of the Orinoco to be disbelieved, when they told a similar tale? +Sir Richard Schomburgk's admirable preface to Raleigh's Guiana proves, +surely, that the Indians themselves were deceived, as well as deceivers. +It was known, again, that vast quantities of the Peruvian treasure had +been concealed by the priests, and that members of the Inca family had +fled across the Andes, and held out against the Spaniards. Barely fifty +years had elapsed since then;--what more probable than that this remnant +of the Peruvian dynasty and treasure still existed? Even the story of +the Amazons, though it may serve Hume as a point for his ungenerous and +untruthful attempt to make Raleigh out either fool or villain, has +come from Spaniards, who had with their own eyes seen the Indian women +fighting by their husbands' sides, and from Indians, who asserted the +existence of an Amazonian tribe. What right had Amyas, or any man, to +disbelieve the story? The existence of the Amazons in ancient Asia, and +of their intercourse with Alexander the Great, was then an accredited +part of history, which it would have been gratuitous impertinence to +deny. And what if some stories connected these warlike women with the +Emperor of Manoa, and the capital itself? This generation ought surely +to be the last to laugh at such a story, at least as long as the +Amazonian guards of the King of Dahomey continue to outvie the men in +that relentless ferocity, with which they have subdued every neighboring +tribe, save the Christians of Abbeokuta. In this case, as in a hundred +more, fact not only outdoes, but justifies imagination; and Amyas spoke +common sense when he said to his men that day-- + +“Let fools laugh and stay at home. Wise men dare and win. Saul went to +look for his father's asses, and found a kingdom; and Columbus, my men, +was called a madman for only going to seek China, and never knew, they +say, until his dying day, that he had found a whole new world instead +of it. Find Manoa? God only, who made all things, knows what we may find +beside!” + +So underneath that giant ceiba-tree, those valiant men, reduced by +battle and sickness to some eighty, swore a great oath, and kept that +oath like men. To search for the golden city for two full years to come, +whatever might befall; to stand to each other for weal or woe; to obey +their officers to the death; to murmur privately against no man, but +bring all complaints to a council of war; to use no profane oaths, but +serve God daily with prayer; to take by violence from no man, save from +their natural enemies the Spaniards; to be civil and merciful to all +savages, and chaste and courteous to all women; to bring all booty and +all food into the common stock, and observe to the utmost their faith +with the adventurers who had fitted out the ship; and finally, to march +at sunrise the next morning toward the south, trusting in God to be +their guide. + +“It is a great oath, and a hard one,” said Brimblecombe; “but God will +give us strength to keep it.” And they knelt all together and received +the Holy Communion, and then rose to pack provisions and ammunition, +and lay down again to sleep and to dream that they were sailing home +up Torridge stream--as Cavendish, returning from round the world, did +actually sail home up Thames but five years afterwards--“with mariners +and soldiers clothed in silk, with sails of damask, and topsails of +cloth of gold, and the richest prize which ever was brought at one time +unto English shores.” + + * * * * * + +The Cross stands upright in the southern sky. It is the middle of the +night. Cary and Yeo glide silently up the hill and into the camp, +and whisper to Amyas that they have done the deed. The sleepers are +awakened, and the train sets forth. + +Upward and southward ever: but whither, who can tell? They hardly think +of the whither; but go like sleep-walkers, shaken out of one land of +dreams, only to find themselves in another and stranger one. All around +is fantastic and unearthly; now each man starts as he sees the figures +of his fellows, clothed from head to foot in golden filigree; looks up, +and sees the yellow moonlight through the fronds of the huge tree-ferns +overhead, as through a cloud of glittering lace. Now they are hewing +their way through a thicket of enormous flags; now through bamboos forty +feet high; now they are stumbling over boulders, waist-deep in cushions +of club-moss; now they are struggling through shrubberies of heaths and +rhododendrons, and woolly incense-trees, where every leaf, as they brush +past, dashes some fresh scent into their faces, and + + “The winds, with musky wing, + About the cedarn alleys fling + Nard and cassia's balmy smells.” + +Now they open upon some craggy brow, from whence they can see far below +an ocean of soft cloud, whose silver billows, girdled by the mountain +sides, hide the lowland from their sight. + +And from beneath the cloud strange voices rise; the screams of thousand +night-birds, and wild howls, which they used at first to fancy were the +cries of ravenous beasts, till they found them to proceed from nothing +fiercer than an ape. But what is that deeper note, like a series +of muffled explosions,--arquebuses fired within some subterranean +cavern,--the heavy pulse of which rolls up through the depths of the +unseen forest? They hear it now for the first time, but they will hear +it many a time again; and the Indian lad is hushed, and cowers close +to them, and then takes heart, as he looks upon their swords and +arquebuses; for that is the roar of the jaguar, “seeking his meat from +God.” + +But what is that glare away to the northward? The yellow moon is ringed +with gay rainbows; but that light is far too red to be the reflection +of any beams of hers. Now through the cloud rises a column of black and +lurid smoke; the fog clears away right and left around it, and shows +beneath, a mighty fire. + +The men look at each other with questioning eyes, each half suspecting, +and yet not daring to confess their own suspicions; and Amyas whispers +to Yeo-- + +“You took care to flood the powder?” + +“Ay, ay, sir, and to unload the ordnance too. No use in making a noise +to tell the Spaniards our whereabouts.” + +Yes; that glare rises from the good ship Rose. Amyas, like Cortez of +old, has burnt his ship, and retreat is now impossible. Forward into the +unknown abyss of the New World, and God be with them as they go! + +The Indian knows a cunning path: it winds along the highest ridges of +the mountains; but the travelling is far more open and easy. + +They have passed the head of a valley which leads down to St. Jago. +Beneath that long shining river of mist, which ends at the foot of +the great Silla, lies (so says the Indian lad) the rich capital of +Venezuela; and beyond, the gold-mines of Los Teques and Baruta, which +first attracted the founder Diego de Losada; and many a longing eye is +turned towards it as they pass the saddle at the valley head; but the +attempt is hopeless, they turn again to the left, and so down towards +the rancho, taking care (so the prudent Amyas had commanded) to break +down, after crossing, the frail rope bridge which spans each torrent and +ravine. + +They are at the rancho long before daybreak, and have secured there, +not only fourteen mules, but eight or nine Indians stolen from off +the Llanos, like their guide, who are glad enough to escape from their +tyrants by taking service with them. And now southward and away, with +lightened shoulders and hearts; for they are all but safe from pursuit. +The broken bridges prevent the news of their raid reaching St. Jago +until nightfall; and in the meanwhile, Don Guzman returns to the river +mouth the next day to find the ship a blackened wreck, and the camp +empty; follows their trail over the hills till he is stopped by a broken +bridge; surmounts that difficulty, and meets a second; his men are +worn out with heat, and a little afraid of stumbling on the heretic +desperadoes, and he returns by land to St. Jago; and when he arrives +there, has news from home which gives him other things to think of than +following those mad Englishmen, who have vanished into the wilderness. +“What need, after all, to follow them?” asked the Spaniards of each +other. “Blinded by the devil, whom they serve, they rush on in search of +certain death, as many a larger company has before them, and they will +find it, and will trouble La Guayra no more forever.” “Lutheran dogs and +enemies of God,” said Don Guzman to his soldiers, “they will leave their +bones to whiten on the Llanos, as may every heretic who sets foot on +Spanish soil!” + +Will they do so, Don Guzman? Or wilt thou and Amyas meet again upon a +mightier battlefield, to learn a lesson which neither of you yet has +learned? + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE INQUISITION IN THE INDIES + + +My next chapter is perhaps too sad; it shall be at least as short as I +can make it; but it was needful to be written, that readers may judge +fairly for themselves what sort of enemies the English nation had to +face in those stern days. + +Three weeks have passed, and the scene is shifted to a long, low range +of cells in a dark corridor in the city of Cartagena. The door of one is +open; and within stand two cloaked figures, one of whom we know. It is +Eustace Leigh. The other is a familiar of the Holy Office. + +He holds in his hand a lamp, from which the light falls on a bed of +straw, and on the sleeping figure of a man. The high white brow, the +pale and delicate features--them too we know, for they are those of +Frank. Saved half-dead from the fury of the savage negroes, he has been +reserved for the more delicate cruelty of civilized and Christian men. +He underwent the question but this afternoon; and now Eustace, his +betrayer, is come to persuade him--or to entrap him? Eustace himself +hardly knows whether of the two. + +And yet he would give his life to save his cousin. + +His life? He has long since ceased to care for that. He has done what +he has done, because it is his duty; and now he is to do his duty +once more, and wake the sleeper, and argue, coax, threaten him into +recantation while “his heart is still tender from the torture,” so +Eustace's employers phrase it. + +And yet how calmly he is sleeping! Is it but a freak of the lamplight, +or is there a smile upon his lips? Eustace takes the lamp and bends over +him to see; and as he bends he hears Frank whispering in his dreams his +mother's name, and a name higher and holier still. + +Eustace cannot find the heart to wake him. + +“Let him rest,” whispers he to his companion. “After all, I fear my +words will be of little use.” + +“I fear so too, sir. Never did I behold a more obdurate heretic. He did +not scruple to scoff openly at their holinesses.” + +“Ah!” said Eustace; “great is the pravity of the human heart, and the +power of Satan! Let us go for the present.” + +“Where is she?” + +“The elder sorceress, or the younger?” + +“The younger--the--” + +“The Senora de Soto? Ah, poor thing! One could be sorry for her, were +she not a heretic.” And the man eyed Eustace keenly, and then quietly +added, “She is at present with the notary; to the benefit of her soul, I +trust--” + +Eustace half stopped, shuddering. He could hardly collect himself enough +to gasp out an “Amen!” + +“Within there,” said the man, pointing carelessly to a door as they +went down the corridor. “We can listen a moment, if you like; but don't +betray me, senor.” + +Eustace knows well enough that the fellow is probably on the watch to +betray him, if he shows any signs of compunction; at least to report +faithfully to his superiors the slightest expression of sympathy with +a heretic; but a horrible curiosity prevails over fear, and he pauses +close to the fatal door. His face is all of a flame, his knees knock +together, his ears are ringing, his heart bursting through his ribs, as +he supports himself against the wall, hiding his convulsed face as well +as he can from his companion. + +A man's voice is plainly audible within; low, but distinct. The notary +is trying that old charge of witchcraft, which the Inquisitors, whether +to justify themselves to their own consciences, or to whiten their +villainy somewhat in the eyes of the mob, so often brought against their +victims. And then Eustace's heart sinks within him as he hears a woman's +voice reply, sharpened by indignation and agony-- + +“Witchcraft against Don Guzman? What need of that, oh God! what need?” + +“You deny it then, senora? we are sorry for you; but--” + +A confused choking murmur from the victim, mingled with words which +might mean anything or nothing. + +“She has confessed!” whispered Eustace; “saints, I thank you!--she--” + +A wail which rings through Eustace's ears, and brain, and heart! He +would have torn at the door to open it; but his companion forces him +away. Another, and another wail, while the wretched man hurries off, +stopping his ears in vain against those piercing cries, which follow +him, like avenging angels, through the dreadful vaults. + +He escaped into the fragrant open air, and the golden tropic moonlight, +and a garden which might have served as a model for Eden; but man's hell +followed into God's heaven, and still those wails seemed to ring through +his ears. + +“Oh, misery, misery, misery!” murmured he to himself through grinding +teeth; “and I have brought her to this! I have had to bring her to it! +What else could I? Who dare blame me? And yet what devilish sin can I +have committed, that requires to be punished thus? Was there no one to +be found but me? No one? And yet it may save her soul. It may bring her +to repentance!” + +“It may, indeed; for she is delicate, and cannot endure much. You +ought to know as well as I, senor, the merciful disposition of the Holy +Office.” + +“I know it, I know it,” interrupted poor Eustace, trembling now for +himself. “All in love--all in love.--A paternal chastisement--” + +“And the proofs of heresy are patent, beside the strong suspicion +of enchantment, and the known character of the elder sorceress. +You yourself, you must remember, senor, told us that she had been a +notorious witch in England, before the senora brought her hither as her +attendant.” + +“Of course she was; of course. Yes; there was no other course open. And +though the flesh may be weak, sir, in my case, yet none can have proved +better to the Holy Office how willing is the spirit!” + +And so Eustace departed; and ere another sun had set, he had gone to the +principal of the Jesuits; told him his whole heart, or as much of it, +poor wretch, as he dare tell to himself; and entreated to be allowed to +finish his novitiate, and enter the order, on the understanding that he +was to be sent at once back to Europe, or anywhere else; “Otherwise,” + as he said frankly, “he should go mad, even if he were not mad already.” + The Jesuit, who was a kindly man enough, went to the Holy Office, and +settled all with the Inquisitors, recounting to them, to set him above +all suspicion, Eustace's past valiant services to the Church. His +testimony was no longer needed; he left Cartagena for Nombre that very +night, and sailed the next week I know not whither. + +I say, I know not whither. Eustace Leigh vanishes henceforth from these +pages. He may have ended as General of his Order. He may have worn out +his years in some tropic forest, “conquering the souls” (including, of +course, the bodies) of Indians; he may have gone back to his old work +in England, and been the very Ballard who was hanged and quartered three +years afterwards for his share in Babington's villainous conspiracy: +I know not. This book is a history of men,--of men's virtues and sins, +victories and defeats; and Eustace is a man no longer: he is become a +thing, a tool, a Jesuit; which goes only where it is sent, and does good +or evil indifferently as it is bid; which, by an act of moral suicide, +has lost its soul, in the hope of saving it; without a will, a +conscience, a responsibility (as it fancies), to God or man, but only to +“The Society.” In a word, Eustace, as he says himself, is “dead.” Twice +dead, I fear. Let the dead bury their dead. We have no more concern with +Eustace Leigh. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE BANKS OF THE META + + “My mariners, + Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with + me--Death closes all: but something ere the end, + Some work of noble note, may yet be done, + Not unbecoming men that strove with gods!” + + TENNYSON'S Ulysses. + +Nearly three years are past and gone since that little band had knelt +at evensong beneath the giant tree of Guayra--years of seeming blank, +through which they are to be tracked only by scattered notes and +mis-spelt names. Through untrodden hills and forests, over a space of +some eight hundred miles in length by four hundred in breadth, they had +been seeking for the Golden City, and they had sought in vain. They had +sought it along the wooded banks of the Orinoco, and beyond the roaring +foam-world of Maypures, and on the upper waters of the mighty Amazon. +They had gone up the streams even into Peru itself, and had trodden the +cinchona groves of Loxa, ignorant, as all the world was then, of their +healing virtues. They had seen the virgin snows of Chimborazo towering +white above the thundercloud, and the giant cone of Cotopaxi blackening +in its sullen wrath, before the fiery streams rolled down its sides. +Foiled in their search at the back of the Andes, they had turned +eastward once more, and plunged from the alpine cliffs into “the green +and misty ocean of the Montana.” Slowly and painfully they had worked +their way northward again, along the eastern foot of the inland +Cordillera, and now they were bivouacking, as it seems, upon one of the +many feeders of the Meta, which flow down from the Suma Paz into the +forest-covered plains. There they sat, their watch-fires glittering +on the stream, beneath the shadow of enormous trees, Amyas and Cary, +Brimblecombe, Yeo, and the Indian lad, who has followed them in all +their wanderings, alive and well: but as far as ever from Manoa, and +its fairy lake, and golden palaces, and all the wonders of the Indian's +tale. Again and again in their wanderings they had heard faint rumors of +its existence, and started off in some fresh direction, to meet only a +fresh disappointment, and hope deferred, which maketh sick the heart. + +There they sit at last--four-and-forty men out of the eighty-four who +left the tree of Guayra:--where are the rest? + + “Their bones are scatter'd far and wide, + By mount, by stream, and sea.” + +Drew, the master, lies on the banks of the Rio Negro, and five brave +fellows by him, slain in fight by the poisoned arrows of the Indians, in +a vain attempt to penetrate the mountain-gorges of the Parima. Two more +lie amid the valleys of the Andes, frozen to death by the fierce slaty +hail which sweeps down from the condor's eyrie; four more were drowned +at one of the rapids of the Orinoco; five or six more wounded men are +left behind at another rapid among friendly Indians, to be recovered +when they can be: perhaps never. Fever, snakes, jaguars, alligators, +cannibal fish, electric eels, have thinned their ranks month by month, +and of their march through the primeval wilderness no track remains, +except those lonely graves. + +And there the survivors sit, beside the silent stream, beneath the +tropic moon; sun-dried and lean, but strong and bold as ever, with the +quiet fire of English courage burning undimmed in every eye, and the +genial smile of English mirth fresh on every lip; making a jest of +danger and a sport of toil, as cheerily as when they sailed over the bar +of Bideford, in days which seem to belong to some antenatal life. Their +beards have grown down upon their breasts; their long hair is knotted +on their heads, like women's, to keep off the burning sunshine; their +leggings are of the skin of the delicate Guazu-puti deer; their shirts +are patched with Indian cotton web; the spoils of jaguar, puma, and ape +hang from their shoulders. Their ammunition is long since spent, their +muskets, spoilt by the perpetual vapor-bath of the steaming woods, are +left behind as useless in a cave by some cataract of the Orinoco: but +their swords are bright and terrible as ever; and they carry bows of +a strength which no Indian arm can bend, and arrows pointed with the +remnants of their armor; many of them, too, are armed with the pocuna +or blowgun of the Indians--more deadly, because more silent, than the +firearms which they have left behind them. So they have wandered, and so +they will wander still, the lords of the forest and its beasts; terrible +to all hostile Indians, but kindly, just, and generous to all who will +deal faithfully with them; and many a smooth-chinned Carib and +Ature, Solimo and Guahiba, recounts with wonder and admiration the +righteousness of the bearded heroes, who proclaimed themselves the +deadly foes of the faithless and murderous Spaniard, and spoke to them +of the great and good queen beyond the seas, who would send her warriors +to deliver and avenge the oppressed Indian. + +The men are sleeping among the trees, some on the ground, and some in +grass-hammocks slung between the stems. All is silent, save the heavy +plunge of the tapir in the river, as he tears up the water-weeds for +his night's repast. Sometimes, indeed, the jaguar, as he climbs from one +tree-top to another after his prey, wakens the monkeys clustered on the +boughs, and they again arouse the birds, and ten minutes of unearthly +roars, howls, shrieks, and cacklings make the forest ring as if all +pandemonium had broke loose; but that soon dies away again; and, even +while it lasts, it is too common a matter to awaken the sleepers, +much less to interrupt the council of war which is going on beside +the watch-fire, between the three adventurers and the faithful Yeo. A +hundred times have they held such a council, and in vain; and, for aught +they know, this one will be as fruitless as those which have gone before +it. Nevertheless, it is a more solemn one than usual; for the two years +during which they had agreed to search for Manoa are long past, and some +new place must be determined on, unless they intend to spend the rest of +their lives in that green wilderness. + +“Well,” says Will Cary, taking his cigar out of his mouth, “at least we +have got something out of those last Indians. It is a comfort to have a +puff at tobacco once more, after three weeks' fasting.” + +“For me,” said Jack Brimblecombe, “Heaven forgive me! but when I get the +magical leaf between my teeth again, I feel tempted to sit as still as a +chimney, and smoke till my dying day, without stirring hand or foot.” + +“Then I shall forbid you tobacco, Master Parson,” said Amyas; “for we +must be up and away again to-morrow. We have been idling here three +mortal days, and nothing done.” + +“Shall we ever do anything? I think the gold of Manoa is like the gold +which lies where the rainbow touches the ground, always a field beyond +you.” + +Amyas was silent awhile, and so were the rest. There was no denying that +their hopes were all but gone. In the immense circuit which they had +made, they had met with nothing but disappointment. + +“There is but one more chance,” said he at length, “and that is, the +mountains to the east of the Orinoco, where we failed the first time. +The Incas may have moved on to them when they escaped.” + +“Why not?” said Cary; “they would so put all the forests, beside the +Llanos and half-a-dozen great rivers, between them and those dogs of +Spaniards.” + +“Shall we try it once more?” said Amyas. “This river ought to run +into the Orinoco; and once there, we are again at the very foot of the +mountains. What say you, Yeo?” + +“I cannot but mind, your worship, that when we came up the Orinoco, +the Indians told us terrible stories of those mountains, how far they +stretched, and how difficult they were to cross, by reason of the cliffs +aloft, and the thick forests in the valleys. And have we not lost five +good men there already?” + +“What care we? No forests can be thicker than those we have bored +through already; why, if one had had but a tail, like a monkey, for +an extra warp, one might have gone a hundred miles on end along the +tree-tops, and found it far pleasanter walking than tripping in withes, +and being eaten up with creeping things, from morn till night.” + +“But remember, too,” said Jack, “how they told us to beware of the +Amazons.” + +“What, Jack, afraid of a parcel of women?” + +“Why not?” said Jack, “I wouldn't run from a man, as you know; but a +woman--it's not natural, like. They must be witches or devils. See how +the Caribs feared them. And there were men there without necks, and with +their eyes in their breasts, they said. Now how could a Christian tackle +such customers as them?” + +“He couldn't cut off their heads, that's certain; but, I suppose, a poke +in the ribs will do as much for them as for their neighbors.” + +“Well,” said Jack, “if I fight, let me fight honest flesh and blood, +that's all, and none of these outlandish monsters. How do you know but +that they are invulnerable by art-magic?” + +“How do you know that they are? And as for the Amazons,” said Cary, +“woman's woman, all the world over. I'll bet that you may wheedle them +round with a compliment or two, just as if they were so many burghers' +wives. Pity I have not a court-suit and a Spanish hat. I would have +taken an orange in one hand and a handkerchief in the other, gone all +alone to them as ambassador, and been in a week as great with Queen +Blackfacealinda as ever Raleigh is at Whitehall.” + +“Gentlemen!” said Yeo, “where you go, I go; and not only I, but every +man of us, I doubt not; but we have lost now half our company, and spent +our ammunition, so we are no better men, were it not for our swords, +than these naked heathens round us. Now it was, as you all know, by the +wonder and noise of their ordnance (let alone their horses, which is a +break-neck beast I put no faith in) that both Cortez and Pizarro, those +imps of Satan, made their golden conquests, with which if we could have +astounded the people of Manoa--” + +“Having first found the said people,” laughed Amyas. “It is like the +old fable. Every craftsman thinks his own trade the one pillar of the +commonweal.” + +“Well! your worship,” quoth Yeo, “it may be that being a gunner I +overprize guns. But it don't need slate and pencil to do this sum--Are +forty men without shot as good as eighty with?” + +“Thou art right, old fellow, right enough, and I was only jesting for +very sorrow, and must needs laugh about it lest I weep about it. Our +chance is over, I believe, though I dare not confess as much to the +men.” + +“Sir,” said Yeo, “I have a feeling on me that the Lord's hand is against +us in this matter. Whether He means to keep this wealth for worthier men +than us, or whether it is His will to hide this great city in the secret +place of His presence from the strife of tongues, and so to spare them +from sinful man's covetousness, and England from that sin and luxury +which I have seen gold beget among the Spaniards, I know not, sir; for +who knoweth the counsels of the Lord? But I have long had a voice within +which saith, 'Salvation Yeo, thou shalt never behold the Golden City +which is on earth, where heathens worship sun and moon and the hosts of +heaven; be content, therefore, to see that Golden City which is above, +where is neither sun nor moon, but the Lord God and the Lamb are the +light thereof.” + +There was a simple majesty about old Yeo when he broke forth in +utterances like these, which made his comrades, and even Amyas and Cary, +look on him as Mussulmans look on madmen, as possessed of mysterious +knowledge and flashes of inspiration; and Brimblecombe, whose pious soul +looked up to the old hero with a reverence which had overcome all his +Churchman's prejudices against Anabaptists, answered gently,-- + +“Amen! amen! my masters all: and it has been on my mind, too, this long +time, that there is a providence against our going east; for see how +this two years past, whenever we have pushed eastward, we have fallen +into trouble, and lost good men; and whenever we went Westward-ho, we +have prospered; and do prosper to this day.” + +“And what is more, gentlemen,” said Yeo, “if, as Scripture says, dreams +are from the Lord, I verily believe mine last night came from Him; for +as I lay by the fire, sirs, I heard my little maid's voice calling of +me, as plain as ever I heard in my life; and the very same words, sirs, +which she learned from me and my good comrade William Penberthy to say, +'Westward-ho! jolly mariners all!' a bit of an ungodly song, my masters, +which we sang in our wild days; but she stood and called it as plain as +ever mortal ears heard, and called again till I answered, 'Coming! my +maid, coming!' and after that the dear chuck called no more--God grant I +find her yet!--and so I woke.” + +Cary had long since given up laughing at Yeo about the “little maid;” + and Amyas answered,-- + +“So let it be, Yeo, if the rest agree: but what shall we do to the +westward?” + +“Do?” said Cary; “there's plenty to do; for there's plenty of gold, +and plenty of Spaniards, too, they say, on the other side of these +mountains: so that our swords will not rust for lack of adventures, my +gay knights-errant all.” + +So they chatted on; and before night was half through a plan was +matured, desperate enough--but what cared those brave hearts for that? +They would cross the Cordillera to Santa Fe de Bogota, of the wealth +whereof both Yeo and Amyas had often heard in the Pacific: try to seize +either the town or some convoy of gold going from it; make for the +nearest river (there was said to be a large one which ran northward +thence), build canoes, and try to reach the Northern Sea once more; and +then, if Heaven prospered them, they might seize a Spanish ship, and +make their way home to England, not, indeed, with the wealth of Manoa, +but with a fair booty of Spanish gold. This was their new dream. It was +a wild one: but hardly more wild than the one which Drake had fulfilled, +and not as wild as the one which Oxenham might have fulfilled, but for +his own fatal folly. + +Amyas sat watching late that night, sad of heart. To give up the +cherished dream of years was hard; to face his mother, harder still: but +it must be done, for the men's sake. So the new plan was proposed next +day, and accepted joyfully. They would go up to the mountains and rest +awhile; if possible, bring up the wounded whom they had left behind; and +then, try a new venture, with new hopes, perhaps new dangers; they were +inured to the latter. + +They started next morning cheerfully enough, and for three hours or more +paddled easily up the glassy and windless reaches, between two green +flower-bespangled walls of forest, gay with innumerable birds and +insects; while down from the branches which overhung the stream long +trailers hung to the water's edge, and seemed admiring in the clear +mirror the images of their own gorgeous flowers. River, trees, flowers, +birds, insects,--it was all a fairy-land: but it was a colossal one; and +yet the voyagers took little note of it. It was now to them an everyday +occurrence, to see trees full two hundred feet high one mass of yellow +or purple blossom to the highest twigs, and every branch and stem one +hanging garden of crimson and orange orchids or vanillas. Common to them +were all the fantastic and enormous shapes with which Nature bedecks her +robes beneath the fierce suns and fattening rains of the tropic forest. +Common were forms and colors of bird, and fish, and butterfly, more +strange and bright than ever opium-eater dreamed. The long processions +of monkeys, who kept pace with them along the tree-tops, and proclaimed +their wonder in every imaginable whistle, and grunt, and howl, had +ceased to move their laughter, as much as the roar of the jaguar and the +rustle of the boa had ceased to move their fear; and when a brilliant +green and rose-colored fish, flat-bodied like a bream, flab-finned like +a salmon, and saw-toothed like a shark, leapt clean on board of the +canoe to escape the rush of the huge alligator (whose loathsome snout, +ere he could stop, actually rattled against the canoe within a foot of +Jack Brimblecombe's hand), Jack, instead of turning pale, as he had done +at the sharks upon a certain memorable occasion, coolly picked up the +fish, and said, “He's four pound weight! If you can catch 'pirai' for +us like that, old fellow, just keep in our wake, and we'll give you the +cleanings for wages.” + +Yes. The mind of man is not so “infinite,” in the vulgar sense of that +word, as people fancy; and however greedy the appetite for wonder may +be, while it remains unsatisfied in everyday European life, it is as +easily satiated as any other appetite, and then leaves the senses of +its possessor as dull as those of a city gourmand after a lord mayor's +feast. Only the highest minds--our Humboldts, and Bonplands, and +Schomburgks (and they only when quickened to an almost unhealthy +activity by civilization)--can go on long appreciating where Nature is +insatiable, imperious, maddening, in her demands on our admiration. The +very power of observing wears out under the rush of ever new objects; +and the dizzy spectator is fain at last to shut the eyes of his soul, +and take refuge (as West Indian Spaniards do) in tobacco and stupidity. +The man, too, who has not only eyes but utterance,--what shall he do +where all words fail him? Superlatives are but inarticulate, after all, +and give no pictures even of size any more than do numbers of feet and +yards: and yet what else can we do, but heap superlative on superlative, +and cry, “Wonderful, wonderful!” and after that, “wonderful, past all +whooping”? What Humboldt's self cannot paint, we will not try to daub. +The voyagers were in a South American forest, readers. Fill up the +meaning of those words, each as your knowledge enables you, for I cannot +do it for you. + +Certainly those adventurers could not. The absence of any attempt at +word-painting, even of admiration at the glorious things which they saw, +is most remarkable in all early voyagers, both Spanish and English. The +only two exceptions which I recollect are Columbus--(but then all was +new, and he was bound to tell what he had seen)--and Raleigh; the two +most gifted men, perhaps, with the exception of Humboldt, who ever set +foot in tropical America; but even they dare nothing but a few feeble +hints in passing. Their souls had been dazzled and stunned by a great +glory. Coming out of our European Nature into that tropic one, they had +felt like Plato's men, bred in the twilight cavern, and then suddenly +turned round to the broad blaze of day; they had seen things awful and +unspeakable: why talk of them, except to say with the Turks, “God is +great!” + +So it was with these men. Among the higher-hearted of them, the grandeur +and the glory around had attuned their spirits to itself, and kept up in +them a lofty, heroical, reverent frame of mind; but they knew as little +about the trees and animals in an “artistic” or “critical” point +of view, as in a scientific one. This tree the Indians called one +unpronounceable name, and it made good bows; that, some other name, and +it made good canoes; of that, you could eat the fruit; that produced the +caoutchouc gum, useful for a hundred matters; that was what the Indians +(and they likewise) used to poison their arrows with; from the ashes of +those palm-nuts you could make good salt; that tree, again, was full of +good milk if you bored the stem: they drank it, and gave God thanks, and +were not astonished. God was great: but that they had discovered long +before they came into the tropics. Noble old child-hearted heroes, with +just romance and superstition enough about them to keep them from that +prurient hysterical wonder and enthusiasm, which is simply, one often +fears, a product of our scepticism! We do not trust enough in God, we do +not really believe His power enough, to be ready, as they were, as every +one ought to be on a God-made earth, for anything and everything being +possible; and then, when a wonder is discovered, we go into ecstasies +and shrieks over it, and take to ourselves credit for being susceptible +of so lofty a feeling, true index, forsooth, of a refined and cultivated +mind. + +They paddled onward hour after hour, sheltering themselves as best they +could under the shadow of the southern bank, while on their right hand +the full sun-glare lay upon the enormous wall of mimosas, figs, and +laurels, which formed the northern forest, broken by the slender shafts +of bamboo tufts, and decked with a thousand gaudy parasites; bank upon +bank of gorgeous bloom piled upward to the sky, till where its outline +cut the blue, flowers and leaves, too lofty to be distinguished by the +eye, formed a broken rainbow of all hues quivering in the ascending +streams of azure mist, until they seemed to melt and mingle with the +very heavens. + +And as the sun rose higher and higher, a great stillness fell upon the +forest. The jaguars and the monkeys had hidden themselves in the darkest +depths of the woods. The birds' notes died out one by one; the very +butterflies ceased their flitting over the tree-tops, and slept with +outspread wings upon the glossy leaves, undistinguishable from the +flowers around them. Now and then a colibri whirred downward toward +the water, hummed for a moment around some pendent flower, and then +the living gem was lost in the deep blackness of the inner wood, among +tree-trunks as huge and dark as the pillars of some Hindoo shrine; or +a parrot swung and screamed at them from an overhanging bough; or a +thirsty monkey slid lazily down a liana to the surface of the stream, +dipped up the water in his tiny hand, and started chattering back, as +his eyes met those of some foul alligator peering upward through the +clear depths below. In shaded nooks beneath the boughs, the capybaras, +rabbits as large as sheep, went paddling sleepily round and round, +thrusting up their unwieldy heads among the blooms of the blue +water-lilies; while black and purple water-hens ran up and down upon the +rafts of floating leaves. The shining snout of a freshwater dolphin rose +slowly to the surface; a jet of spray whirred up; a rainbow hung upon +it for a moment; and the black snout sank lazily again. Here and there, +too, upon some shallow pebbly shore, scarlet flamingoes stood dreaming +knee-deep, on one leg; crested cranes pranced up and down, admiring +their own finery; and ibises and egrets dipped their bills under water +in search of prey: but before noon even those had slipped away, and +there reigned a stillness which might be heard--such a stillness (to +compare small things with great) as broods beneath the rich shadows of +Amyas's own Devon woods, or among the lonely sweeps of Exmoor, when the +heather is in flower--a stillness in which, as Humboldt says, “If beyond +the silence we listen for the faintest undertones, we detect a stifled, +continuous hum of insects, which crowd the air close to the earth; a +confused swarming murmur which hangs round every bush, in the cracked +bark of trees, in the soil undermined by lizards, millepedes, and +bees; a voice proclaiming to us that all Nature breathes, that under a +thousand different forms life swarms in the gaping and dusty earth, as +much as in the bosom of the waters, and the air which breathes around.” + +At last a soft and distant murmur, increasing gradually to a heavy roar, +announced that they were nearing some cataract; till turning a point, +where the deep alluvial soil rose into a low cliff fringed with delicate +ferns, they came full in sight of a scene at which all paused: not with +astonishment, but with something very like disgust. + +“Rapids again!” grumbled one. “I thought we had had enough of them on +the Orinoco.” + +“We shall have to get out, and draw the canoes overland, I suppose. +Three hours will be lost, and in the very hottest of the day, too.” + +“There's worse behind; don't you see the spray behind the palms?” + +“Stop grumbling, my masters, and don't cry out before you are hurt. +Paddle right up to the largest of those islands, and let us look about +us.” + +In front of them was a snow-white bar of raging foam, some ten feet +high, along which were ranged three or four islands of black rock. Each +was crested with a knot of lofty palms, whose green tops stood out clear +against the bright sky, while the lower half of their stems loomed hazy +through a luminous veil of rainbowed mist. The banks right and left +of the fall were so densely fringed with a low hedge of shrubs, that +landing seemed all but impossible; and their Indian guide, suddenly +looking round him and whispering, bade them beware of savages; and +pointed to a canoe which lay swinging in the eddies under the largest +island, moored apparently to the root of some tree. + +“Silence all!” cried Amyas, “and paddle up thither and seize the canoe. +If there be an Indian on the island, we will have speech of him: but +mind and treat him friendly; and on your lives, neither strike nor +shoot, even if he offers to fight.” + +So, choosing a line of smooth backwater just in the wake of the island, +they drove their canoes up by main force, and fastened them safely +by the side of the Indian's, while Amyas, always the foremost, sprang +boldly on shore, whispering to the Indian boy to follow him. + +Once on the island, Amyas felt sure enough, that if its wild tenant had +not seen them approach, he certainly had not heard them, so deafening +was the noise which filled his brain, and seemed to make the very leaves +upon the bushes quiver, and the solid stone beneath his feet to reel and +ring. For two hundred yards and more above the fall nothing met his eye +but one white waste of raging foam, with here and there a transverse +dyke of rock, which hurled columns of spray and surges of beaded water +high into the air,--strangely contrasting with the still and silent +cliffs of green leaves which walled the river right and left, and more +strangely still with the knots of enormous palms upon the islets, which +reared their polished shafts a hundred feet into the air, straight and +upright as masts, while their broad plumes and golden-clustered fruit +slept in the sunshine far aloft, the image of the stateliest repose amid +the wildest wrath of Nature. + +He looked round anxiously for the expected Indian; but he was nowhere to +be seen; and, in the meanwhile, as he stept cautiously along the island, +which was some fifty yards in length and breadth, his senses, accustomed +as they were to such sights, could not help dwelling on the exquisite +beauty of the scene; on the garden of gay flowers, of every imaginable +form and hue, which fringed every boulder at his feet, peeping out amid +delicate fern-fans and luxuriant cushions of moss; on the chequered +shade of the palms, and the cool air, which wafted down from the +cataracts above the scents of a thousand flowers. Gradually his ear +became accustomed to the roar, and, above its mighty undertone, he could +hear the whisper of the wind among the shrubs, and the hum of myriad +insects; while the rock manakin, with its saffron plumage, flitted +before him from stone to stone, calling cheerily, and seeming to lead +him on. Suddenly, scrambling over the rocky flower-beds to the other +side of the isle, he came upon a little shady beach, which, beneath a +bank of stone some six feet high, fringed the edge of a perfectly still +and glassy bay. Ten yards farther, the cataract fell sheer in thunder: +but a high fern-fringed rock turned its force away from that quiet nook. +In it the water swung slowly round and round in glassy dark-green rings, +among which dimpled a hundred gaudy fish, waiting for every fly and worm +which spun and quivered on the eddy. Here, if anywhere, was the place to +find the owner of the canoe. He leapt down upon the pebbles; and as he +did so, a figure rose from behind a neighboring rock, and met him face +to face. + +It was an Indian girl; and yet, when he looked again,--was it an Indian +girl? Amyas had seen hundreds of those delicate dark-skinned daughters +of the forest, but never such a one as this. Her stature was taller, +her limbs were fuller and more rounded; her complexion, though tanned by +light, was fairer by far than his own sunburnt face; her hair, crowned +with a garland of white flowers, was not lank, and straight, and black, +like an Indian's, but of a rich, glossy brown, and curling richly and +crisply from her very temples to her knees. Her forehead, though low, +was upright and ample; her nose was straight and small; her lips, the +lips of a European; her whole face of the highest and richest type of +Spanish beauty; a collar of gold mingled with green beads hung round her +neck, and golden bracelets were on her wrists. All the strange and dim +legends of white Indians, and of nations of a higher race than Carib, or +Arrowak, or Solimo, which Amyas had ever heard, rose up in his memory. +She must be the daughter of some great cacique, perhaps of the lost +Incas themselves--why not? And full of simple wonder, he gazed upon +that fairy vision, while she, unabashed in her free innocence, gazed +fearlessly in return, as Eve might have done in Paradise, upon the +mighty stature, and the strange garments, and above all, on the bushy +beard and flowing yellow locks of the Englishman. + +He spoke first, in some Indian tongue, gently and smilingly, and made +a half-step forward; but quick as light she caught up from the ground a +bow, and held it fiercely toward him, fitted with the long arrow, +with which, as he could see, she had been striking fish, for a line of +twisted grass hung from its barbed head. Amyas stopped, laid down his +own bow and sword, and made another step in advance, smiling still, +and making all Indian signs of amity: but the arrow was still pointed +straight at his breast, and he knew the mettle and strength of the +forest nymphs well enough to stand still and call for the Indian boy; +too proud to retreat, but in the uncomfortable expectation of feeling +every moment the shaft quivering between his ribs. + +The boy, who had been peering from above, leaped down to them in a +moment; and began, as the safest method, grovelling on his nose upon the +pebbles, while he tried two or three dialects; one of which at last she +seemed to understand, and answered in a tone of evident suspicion and +anger. + +“What does she say?” + +“That you are a Spaniard and a robber, because you have a beard.” + +“Tell her that we are no Spaniards, but that we hate them; and are come +across the great waters to help the Indians to kill them.” + +The boy translated his speech. The nymph answered by a contemptuous +shake of the head. + +“Tell her, that if she will send her tribe to us, we will do them no +harm. We are going over the mountains to fight the Spaniards, and we +want them to show us the way.” + +The boy had no sooner spoken, than, nimble as a deer, the nymph had +sprung up the rocks, and darted between the palm-stems to her canoe. +Suddenly she caught sight of the English boat, and stopped with a cry of +fear and rage. + +“Let her pass!” shouted Amyas, who had followed her close. “Push your +boat off, and let her pass. Boy, tell her to go on; they will not come +near her.” + +But she hesitated still, and with arrow drawn to the head, faced first +on the boat's crew, and then on Amyas, till the Englishmen had shoved +off full twenty yards. + +Then, leaping into her tiny piragua, she darted into the wildest whirl +of the eddies, shooting along with vigorous strokes, while the English +trembled as they saw the frail bark spinning and leaping amid the +muzzles of the alligators, and the huge dog-toothed trout: but with the +swiftness of an arrow she reached the northern bank, drove her canoe +among the bushes, and leaping from it, darted through some narrow +opening in the bush, and vanished like a dream. + +“What fair virago have you unearthed?” cried Cary, as they toiled up +again to the landing-place. + +“Beshrew me,” quoth Jack, “but we are in the very land of the nymphs, +and I shall expect to see Diana herself next, with the moon on her +forehead.” + +“Take care, then, where you wander hereabouts, Sir John: lest you end as +Actaeon did, by turning into a stag, and being eaten by a jaguar.” + +“Actaeon was eaten by his own hounds, Mr. Cary, so the parallel don't +hold. But surely she was a very wonder of beauty!” + +Why was it that Amyas did not like this harmless talk? There had come +over him the strangest new feeling; as if that fair vision was his +property, and the men had no right to talk about her, no right to have +even seen her. And he spoke quite surlily as he said-- + +“You may leave the women to themselves, my masters; you'll have to deal +with the men ere long: so get your canoes up on the rock, and keep good +watch.” + +“Hillo!” shouted one in a few minutes, “here's fresh fish enough to feed +us all round. I suppose that young cat-a-mountain left it behind her +in her hurry. I wish she had left her golden chains and ouches into the +bargain.” + +“Well,” said another, “we'll take it as fair payment, for having made +us drop down the current again to let her ladyship pass.” + +“Leave that fish alone,” said Amyas; “it is none of yours.” + +“Why, sir!” quoth the finder in a tone of sulky deprecation. + +“If we are to make good friends with the heathens, we had better not +begin by stealing their goods. There are plenty more fish in the river; +go and catch them, and let the Indians have their own.” + +The men were accustomed enough to strict and stern justice in their +dealings with the savages: but they could not help looking slyly at +each other, and hinting, when out of sight, that the captain seemed in a +mighty fuss about his new acquaintance. + +However, they were expert by this time in all the Indian's fishing +methods; and so abundant was the animal life which swarmed around every +rock, that in an hour fish enough lay on the beach to feed them all; +whose forms and colors, names and families, I must leave the reader to +guess from the wondrous pages of Sir Richard Schomburgk, for I know too +little of them to speak without the fear of making mistakes. + +A full hour passed before they saw anything more of their Indian +neighbors; and then from under the bushes shot out a canoe, on which all +eyes were fixed in expectation. + +Amyas, who expected to find there some remnant of a higher race, was +disappointed enough at seeing on board only the usual half-dozen of +low-browed, dirty Orsons, painted red with arnotto: but a gray-headed +elder at the stern seemed, by his feathers and gold ornaments, to be +some man of note in the little woodland community. + +The canoe came close up to the island; Amyas saw that they were unarmed, +and, laying down his weapons, advanced alone to the bank, making all +signs of amity. They were returned with interest by the old man, and +Amyas's next care was to bring forward the fish which the fair nymph +had left behind, and, through the medium of the Indian lad, to give the +cacique (for so he seemed to be) to understand that he wished to render +every one his own. This offer was received, as Amyas expected, with +great applause, and the canoe came alongside; but the crew still seemed +afraid to land. Amyas bade his men throw the fish one by one into the +boat; and then proclaimed by the boy's mouth, as was his custom with all +Indians, that he and his were enemies of the Spaniards, and on their +way to make war against them,--and that all which they desired was a +peaceable and safe passage through the dominions of the mighty potentate +and renowned warrior whom they beheld before them; for Amyas argued +rightly enough, that even if the old fellow aft was not the cacique, he +would be none the less pleased at being mistaken for him. + +Whereon the ancient worthy, rising in the canoe, pointed to heaven, +earth, and the things under, and commenced a long sermon, in tone, +manner, and articulation, very like one of those which the great +black-bearded apes were in the habit of preaching every evening when +they could get together a congregation of little monkeys to listen, to +the great scandal of Jack, who would have it that some evil spirit set +them on to mimic him; which sermon, being partly interpreted by the +Indian lad, seemed to signify, that the valor and justice of the white +men had already reached the ears of the speaker, and that he was sent to +welcome them into those regions by the Daughter of the Sun. + +“The Daughter of the Sun!” quoth Amyas; “then we have found the lost +Incas after all.” + +“We have found something,” said Cary; “I only hope it may not be a +mare's nest, like many another of our finding.” + +“Or an adder's,” said Yeo. “We must beware of treachery.” + +“We must beware of no such thing,” said Amyas, pretty sharply. “Have I +not told you fifty times, that if they see that we trust them, they will +trust us, and if they see that we suspect them, they will suspect us? +And when two parties are watching to see who strikes the first blow, +they are sure to come to fisticuffs from mere dirty fear of each other.” + +Amyas spoke truth; for almost every atrocity against savages which had +been committed by the Spaniards, and which was in later and worse times +committed by the English, was wont to be excused in that same base fear +of treachery. Amyas's plan, like that of Drake, and Cook, and all +great English voyagers, had been all along to inspire at once awe +and confidence, by a frank and fearless carriage; and he was not +disappointed here. He bade the men step boldly into their canoes, and +follow the old Indian whither he would. The simple children of the +forest bowed themselves reverently before the mighty strangers, and then +led them smilingly across the stream, and through a narrow passage in +the covert, to a hidden lagoon, on the banks of which stood, not Manoa, +but a tiny Indian village. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HOW AMYAS WAS TEMPTED OF THE DEVIL + + “Let us alone. What pleasure can we have + To war with evil? Is there any peace + In always climbing up the climbing wave? + All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave + In silence; ripen, fall, and cease: + Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.” + + TENNYSON. + +Humboldt has somewhere a curious passage; in which, looking on some +wretched group of Indians, squatting stupidly round their fires, +besmeared with grease and paint, and devouring ants and clay, he +somewhat naively remarks, that were it not for science, which teaches +us that such is the crude material of humanity, and this the state from +which we all have risen, he should have been tempted rather to look upon +those hapless beings as the last degraded remnants of some fallen and +dying race. One wishes that the great traveller had been bold enough +to yield to that temptation, which his own reason and common sense +presented to him as the real explanation of the sad sight, instead +of following the dogmas of a so-called science, which has not a fact +whereon to base its wild notion, and must ignore a thousand facts in +asserting it. His own good sense, it seems, coincided instinctively with +the Bible doctrine, that man in a state of nature is a fallen being, +doomed to death--a view which may be a sad one, but still one more +honorable to poor humanity than the theory, that we all began as some +sort of two-handed apes. It is surely more hopeful to believe that those +poor Otomacs or Guahibas were not what they ought to be, than to believe +that they were. It is certainly more complimentary to them to think that +they had been somewhat nobler and more prudent in centuries gone by, +than that they were such blockheads as to have dragged on, the son after +the father, for all the thousands of years which have elapsed since man +was made, without having had wit enough to discover any better food than +ants and clay. + +Our voyagers, however, like those of their time, troubled their heads +with no such questions. Taking the Bible story as they found it, they +agreed with Humboldt's reason, and not with his science; or, to speak +correctly, agreed with Humboldt's self, and not with the shallow +anthropologic theories which happened to be in vogue fifty years ago; +and their new hosts were in their eyes immortal souls like themselves, +“captivated by the devil at his will,” lost there in the pathless +forests, likely to be lost hereafter. + +And certainly facts seemed to bear out their old-fashioned theories; +although these Indians had sunk by no means so low as the Guahibas whom +they had met upon the lower waters of the same river. + +They beheld, on landing, a scattered village of palm-leaf sheds, under +which, as usual, the hammocks were slung from tree to tree. Here +and there, in openings in the forest, patches of cassava and indigo +appeared; and there was a look of neatness and comfort about the little +settlement superior to the average. + +But now for the signs of the evil spirit. Certainly it was no good +spirit who had inspired them with the art of music; or else (as Cary +said) Apollo and Mercury (if they ever visited America) had played their +forefathers a shabby trick, and put them off with very poor instruments, +and still poorer taste. For on either side of the landing-place were +arranged four or five stout fellows, each with a tall drum, or long +earthen trumpet, swelling out in the course of its length into several +hollow balls from which arose, the moment the strangers set foot on +shore, so deafening a cacophony of howls, and groans, and thumps, as +fully to justify Yeo's remark, “They are calling upon their devil, sir.” + To which Cary answered, with some show of reason, that “they were the +less likely to be disappointed, for none but Sir Urian would ever come +to listen to such a noise.” + +“And you mark, sirs,” said Yeo, “there's some feast or sacrifice toward. +I'm not overconfident of them yet.” + +“Nonsense!” said Amyas, “we could kill every soul of them in +half-an-hour, and they know that as well as we.” + +But some great demonstration was plainly toward; for the children of the +forest were arrayed in two lines, right and left of the open space, the +men in front, and the women behind; and all bedizened, to the best of +their power, with arnotto, indigo, and feathers. + +Next, with a hideous yell, leapt into the centre of the space a +personage who certainly could not have complained if any one had taken +him for the devil, for he had dressed himself up carefully for that very +intent, in a jaguar-skin with a long tail, grinning teeth, a pair of +horns, a plume of black and yellow feathers, and a huge rattle. + +“Here's the Piache, the rascal,” says Amyas. + +“Ay,” says Yeo, “in Satan's livery, and I've no doubt his works are +according, trust him for it.” + +“Don't be frightened, Jack,” says Cary, backing up Brimblecombe from +behind. “It's your business to tackle him, you know. At him boldly, and +he'll run.” + +Whereat all the men laughed; and the Piache, who had intended to produce +a very solemn impression, hung fire a little. However, being accustomed +to get his bread by his impudence, he soon recovered himself, advanced, +smote one of the musicians over the head with his rattle to procure +silence; and then began a harangue, to which Amyas listened patiently, +cigar in mouth. + +“What's it all about, boy?” + +“He wants to know whether you have seen Amalivaca on the other shore of +the great water?” + +Amyas was accustomed to this inquiry after the mythic civilizer of +the forest Indians, who, after carving the mysterious sculptures which +appear upon so many inland cliffs of that region, returned again whence +he came, beyond the ocean. He answered, as usual, by setting forth the +praises of Queen Elizabeth. + +To which the Piache replied, that she must be one of Amalivaca's seven +daughters, some of whom he took back with him, while he broke the legs +of the rest to prevent their running away, and left them to people the +forests. + +To which Amyas replied, that his queen's legs were certainly not broken; +for she was a very model of grace and activity, and the best dancer in +all her dominions; but that it was more important to him to know whether +the tribe would give them cassava bread, and let them stay peaceably on +that island, to rest a while before they went on to fight the clothed +men (the Spaniards), on the other side of the mountains. + +On which the Piache, after capering and turning head over heels with +much howling, beckoned Amyas and his party to follow him; they did so, +seeing that the Indians were all unarmed, and evidently in the highest +good humor. + +The Piache went toward the door of a carefully closed hut, and crawling +up to it on all-fours in most abject fashion, began whining to some one +within. + +“Ask what he is about, boy.” + +The lad asked the old cacique, who had accompanied them, and received +for answer, that he was consulting the Daughter of the Sun. + +“Here is our mare's nest at last,” quoth Cary, as the Piache from whines +rose to screams and gesticulations, and then to violent convulsions, +foaming at the mouth, and rolling of the eyeballs, till he suddenly sank +exhausted, and lay for dead. + +“As good as a stage play.” + +“The devil has played his part,” says Jack; “and now by the rules of all +plays Vice should come on.” + +“And a very fair Vice it will be, I suspect; a right sweet Iniquity, my +Jack! Listen.” + +And from the interior of the hut rose a low sweet song, at which all +the simple Indians bowed their heads in reverence; and the English were +hushed in astonishment; for the voice was not shrill or guttural, like +that of an Indian, but round, clear, and rich, like a European's; and as +it swelled and rose louder and louder, showed a compass and power which +would have been extraordinary anywhere (and many a man of the party, +as was usual in musical old England, was a good judge enough of such +a matter, and could hold his part right well in glee, and catch, and +roundelay, and psalm). And as it leaped, and ran, and sank again, and +rose once more to fall once more, all but inarticulate, yet perfect in +melody, like the voice of bird on bough, the wild wanderers were rapt +in new delight, and did not wonder at the Indians as they bowed their +heads, and welcomed the notes as messengers from some higher world. At +last one triumphant burst, so shrill that all ears rang again, and then +dead silence. The Piache, suddenly restored to life, jumped upright, and +recommenced preaching at Amyas. + +“Tell the howling villain to make short work of it, lad! His tune won't +do after that last one.” + +The lad, grinning, informed Amyas that the Piache signified their +acceptance as friends by the Daughter of the Sun; that her friends were +theirs, and her foes theirs. Whereon the Indians set up a scream of +delight, and Amyas, rolling another tobacco leaf up in another strip of +plantain, answered,-- + +“Then let her give us some cassava,” and lighted a fresh cigar. + +Whereon the door of the hut opened, and the Indians prostrated +themselves to the earth, as there came forth the same fair apparition +which they had encountered upon the island, but decked now in +feather-robes, and plumes of every imaginable hue. + +Slowly and stately, as one accustomed to command, she walked up to +Amyas, glancing proudly round on her prostrate adorers, and pointing +with graceful arms to the trees, the gardens, and the huts, gave him to +understand by signs (so expressive were her looks, that no words were +needed) that all was at his service; after which, taking his hand, she +lifted it gently to her forehead. + +At that sign of submission a shout of rapture rose from the crowd; and +as the mysterious maiden retired again to her hut, they pressed round +the English, caressing and admiring, pointing with equal surprise to +their swords, to their Indian bows and blow-guns, and to the trophies +of wild beasts with which they were clothed; while women hastened off +to bring fruit, and flowers, and cassava, and (to Amyas's great anxiety) +calabashes of intoxicating drink; and, to make a long story short, the +English sat down beneath the trees, and feasted merrily, while the drums +and trumpets made hideous music, and lithe young girls and lads danced +uncouth dances, which so scandalized both Brimblecombe and Yeo, that +they persuaded Amyas to beat an early retreat. He was willing enough +to get back to the island while the men were still sober; so there were +many leave-takings and promises of return on the morrow, and the party +paddled back to their island-fortress, racking their wits as to who or +what the mysterious maid could be. + +Amyas, however, had settled in his mind that she was one of the lost +Inca race; perhaps a descendant of that very fair girl, wife of the +Inca Manco, whom Pizarro, forty years before, had, merely to torture +the fugitive king's heart, as his body was safe from the tyrant's reach, +stripped, scourged, and shot to death with arrows, uncomplaining to the +last. + +They all assembled for the evening service (hardly a day had passed +since they left England on which they had not done the same); and after +it was over, they must needs sing a Psalm, and then a catch or two, ere +they went to sleep; and till the moon was high in heaven, twenty mellow +voices rang out above the roar of the cataract, in many a good old tune. +Once or twice they thought they heard an echo to their song: but they +took no note of it, till Cary, who had gone apart for a few minutes, +returned, and whispered Amyas away. + +“The sweet Iniquity is mimicking us, lad.” + +They went to the brink of the river; and there (for their ears were by +this time dead to the noise of the torrent) they could hear plainly the +same voice which had so surprised them in the hut, repeating, clear +and true, snatches of the airs which they had sung. Strange and solemn +enough was the effect of the men's deep voices on the island, answered +out of the dark forest by those sweet treble notes; and the two young +men stood a long while listening and looking out across the eddies, +which swirled down golden in the moonlight: but they could see nothing +beyond save the black wall of trees. After a while the voice ceased, and +the two returned to dream of Incas and nightingales. + +They visited the village again next day; and every day for a week or +more: but the maiden appeared but rarely, and when she did, kept her +distance as haughtily as a queen. + +Amyas, of course, as soon as he could converse somewhat better with his +new friends, was not long before he questioned the cacique about +her. But the old man made an owl's face at her name, and intimated by +mysterious shakes of the head, that she was a very strange personage, +and the less said about her the better. She was “a child of the Sun,” + and that was enough. + +“Tell him, boy,” quoth Cary, “that we are the children of the Sun by +his first wife; and have orders from him to inquire how the Indians +have behaved to our step-sister, for he cannot see all their tricks down +here, the trees are so thick. So let him tell us, or all the cassava +plants shall be blighted.” + +“Will, Will, don't play with lying!” said Amyas: but the threat was +enough for the cacique, and taking them in his canoe a full mile down +the stream, as if in fear that the wonderful maiden should overhear him, +he told them, in a sort of rhythmic chant, how, many moons ago (he +could not tell how many), his tribe was a mighty nation, and dwelt in +Papamene, till the Spaniards drove them forth. And how, as they wandered +northward, far away upon the mountain spurs beneath the flaming cone +of Cotopaxi, they had found this fair creature wandering in the forest, +about the bigness of a seven years' child. Wondering at her white skin +and her delicate beauty, the simple Indians worshipped her as a god, +and led her home with them. And when they found that she was human like +themselves, their wonder scarcely lessened. How could so tender a being +have sustained life in those forests, and escaped the jaguar and the +snake? She must be under some Divine protection: she must be a daughter +of the Sun, one of that mighty Inca race, the news of whose fearful +fall had reached even those lonely wildernesses; who had, many of them, +haunted for years as exiles the eastern slopes of the Andes, about the +Ucalayi and the Maranon; who would, as all Indians knew, rise again +some day to power, when bearded white men should come across the seas to +restore them to their ancient throne. + +So, as the girl grew up among them, she was tended with royal honors, +by command of the conjuror of the tribe, that so her forefather the Sun +might be propitious to them, and the Incas might show favor to the poor +ruined Omaguas, in the day of their coming glory. And as she grew, she +had become, it seemed, somewhat of a prophetess among them, as well +as an object of fetish-worship; for she was more prudent in council, +valiant in war, and cunning in the chase, than all the elders of the +tribe; and those strange and sweet songs of hers, which had so surprised +the white men, were full of mysterious wisdom about the birds, and the +animals, and the flowers, and the rivers, which the Sun and the Good +Spirit taught her from above. So she had lived among them, unmarried +still, not only because she despised the addresses of all Indian youths, +but because the conjuror had declared it to be profane in them to mingle +with the race of the Sun, and had assigned her a cabin near his own, +where she was served in state, and gave some sort of oracular responses, +as they had seen, to the questions which he put to her. + +Such was the cacique's tale; on which Cary remarked, probably not +unjustly, that he “dared to say the conjuror made a very good thing of +it:” but Amyas was silent, full of dreams, if not about Manoa, still +about the remnant of the Inca race. What if they were still to be found +about the southern sources of the Amazon? He must have been very near +them already, in that case. It was vexatious; but at least he might +be sure that they had formed no great kingdom in that direction, or he +should have heard of it long ago. Perhaps they had moved lately from +thence eastward, to escape some fresh encroachment of the Spaniards; and +this girl had been left behind in their flight. And then he recollected, +with a sigh, how hopeless was any further search with his diminished +band. At least, he might learn something of the truth from the maiden +herself. It might be useful to him in some future attempt; for he +had not yet given up Manoa. If he but got safe home, there was many a +gallant gentleman (and Raleigh came at once into his mind) who would +join him in a fresh search for the Golden City of Guiana; not by the +upper waters, but by the mouth of the Orinoco. + +So they paddled back, while the simple cacique entreated them to tell +the Sun, in their daily prayers, how well the wild people had treated +his descendant; and besought them not to take her away with them, lest +the Sun should forget the poor Omaguas, and ripen their manioc and their +fruit no more. + +Amyas had no wish to stay where he was longer than was absolutely +necessary to bring up the sick men from the Orinoco; but this, he well +knew, would be a journey probably of some months, and attended with much +danger. + +Cary volunteered at once, however, to undertake the adventure, if +half-a-dozen men would join him, and the Indians would send a few young +men to help in working the canoe: but this latter item was not an easy +one to obtain; for the tribe with whom they now were, stood in some fear +of the fierce and brutal Guahibas, through whose country they must pass; +and every Indian tribe, as Amyas knew well enough, looks on each tribe +of different language to itself as natural enemies, hateful, and made +only to be destroyed wherever met. This strange fact, too, Amyas and his +party attributed to delusion of the devil, the divider and accuser; and +I am of opinion that they were perfectly right: only let Amyas take care +that while he is discovering the devil in the Indians, he does not give +place to him in himself, and that in more ways than one. But of that +more hereafter. + +Whether, however, it was pride or shyness which kept the maiden aloof, +she conquered it after a while; perhaps through mere woman's curiosity; +and perhaps, too, from mere longing for amusement in a place so +unspeakably stupid as the forest. She gave the English to understand, +however, that though they all might be very important personages, none +of them was to be her companion but Amyas. And ere a month was past, she +was often hunting with him far and wide in the neighboring forest, with +a train of chosen nymphs, whom she had persuaded to follow her example +and spurn the dusky suitors around. This fashion, not uncommon, perhaps, +among the Indian tribes, where women are continually escaping to +the forest from the tyranny of the men, and often, perhaps, forming +temporary communities, was to the English a plain proof that they were +near the land of the famous Amazons, of whom they had heard so often +from the Indians; while Amyas had no doubt that, as a descendant of the +Incas, the maiden preserved the tradition of the Virgins of the Sun, and +of the austere monastic rule of the Peruvian superstition. Had not that +valiant German, George of Spires, and Jeronimo Ortal too, fifty years +before, found convents of the Sun upon these very upper waters? + +So a harmless friendship sprang up between Amyas and the girl, which +soon turned to good account. For she no sooner heard that he needed a +crew of Indians, than she consulted the Piache, assembled the tribe, and +having retired to her hut, commenced a song, which (unless the Piache +lied) was a command to furnish young men for Cary's expedition, +under penalty of the sovereign displeasure of an evil spirit with an +unpronounceable name--an argument which succeeded on the spot, and the +canoe departed on its perilous errand. + +John Brimblecombe had great doubts whether a venture thus started by +direct help and patronage of the fiend would succeed; and Amyas himself, +disliking the humbug, told Ayacanora that it would be better to have +told the tribe that it was a good deed, and pleasing to the Good Spirit. + +“Ah!” said she, naively enough, “they know better than that. The Good +Spirit is big and lazy; and he smiles, and takes no trouble: but the +little bad spirit, he is so busy--here, and there, and everywhere,” and +she waved her pretty hands up and down; “he is the useful one to have +for a friend!” Which sentiment the Piache much approved, as became his +occupation; and once told Brimblecombe pretty sharply, that he was a +meddlesome fellow for telling the Indians that the Good Spirit cared for +them; “for,” quoth he, “if they begin to ask the Good Spirit for what +they want, who will bring me cassava and coca for keeping the bad spirit +quiet?” This argument, however forcible the devil's priests in all ages +have felt it to be, did not stop Jack's preaching (and very good and +righteous preaching it was, moreover), and much less the morning and +evening service in the island camp. This last, the Indians, attracted +by the singing, attended in such numbers, that the Piache found his +occupation gone, and vowed to put an end to Jack's Gospel with a +poisoned arrow. + +Which plan he (blinded by his master, Satan, so Jack phrased it) took +into his head to impart to Ayacanora, as the partner of his tithes and +offerings; and was exceedingly astonished to receive in answer a box on +the ear, and a storm of abuse. After which, Ayacanora went to Amyas, +and telling him all, proposed that the Piache should be thrown to the +alligators, and Jack installed in his place; declaring that whatsoever +the bearded men said must be true, and whosoever plotted against them +should die the death. + +Jack, however, magnanimously forgave his foe, and preached on, of course +with fresh zeal; but not, alas! with much success. For the conjuror, +though his main treasure was gone over to the camp of the enemy, had a +reserve in a certain holy trumpet, which was hidden mysteriously in a +cave on the neighboring hills, not to be looked on by woman under pain +of death; and it was well known, and had been known for generations, +that unless that trumpet, after fastings, flagellations, and other +solemn rites, was blown by night throughout the woods, the palm-trees +would bear no fruit; yea, so great was the fame of that trumpet, that +neighboring tribes sent at the proper season to hire it and the blower +thereof, by payment of much precious trumpery, that so they might be +sharers in its fertilizing powers. + +So the Piache announced one day in public, that in consequence of the +impiety of the Omaguas, he should retire to a neighboring tribe, of more +religious turn of mind; and taking with him the precious instrument, +leave their palms to blight, and themselves to the evil spirit. + +Dire was the wailing, and dire the wrath throughout the village. +Jack's words were allowed to be good words; but what was the Gospel in +comparison of the trumpet? The rascal saw his advantage, and began +a fierce harangue against the heretic strangers. As he maddened, his +hearers maddened; the savage nature, capricious as a child's, flashed +out in wild suspicion. Women yelled, men scowled, and ran hastily to +their huts for bows and blow-guns. The case was grown critical. There +were not more than a dozen men with Amyas at the time, and they had only +their swords, while the Indian men might muster nearly a hundred. Amyas +forbade his men either to draw or to retreat; but poisoned arrows were +weapons before which the boldest might well quail; and more than one +cheek grew pale, which had seldom been pale before. + +“It is God's quarrel, sirs all,” said Jack Brimblecombe; “let Him defend +the right.” + +As he spoke, from Ayacanora's hut arose her magic song, and quivered +aloft among the green heights of the forest. + +The mob stood spell-bound, still growling fiercely, but not daring to +move. Another moment, and she had rushed out, like a very Diana, into +the centre of the ring, bow in hand, and arrow on the string. + +The fallen “children of wrath” had found their match in her; for her +beautiful face was convulsed with fury. Almost foaming in her passion, +she burst forth with bitter revilings; she pointed with admiration to +the English, and then with fiercest contempt to the Indians; and at +last, with fierce gestures, seemed to cast off the very dust of her +feet against them, and springing to Amyas's side, placed herself in the +forefront of the English battle. + +The whole scene was so sudden, that Amyas had hardly discovered whether +she came as friend or foe, before her bow was raised. He had just time +to strike up her hand, when the arrow flew past the ear of the offending +Piache, and stuck quivering in a tree. + +“Let me kill the wretch!” said she, stamping with rage; but Amyas held +her arm firmly. + +“Fools!” cried she to the tribe, while tears of anger rolled down her +cheeks. “Choose between me and your trumpet! I am a daughter of the Sun; +I am white; I am a companion for Englishmen! But you! your mothers were +Guahibas, and ate mud; and your fathers--they were howling apes! Let +them sing to you! I shall go to the white men, and never sing you to +sleep any more; and when the little evil spirit misses my voice, he will +come and tumble you out of your hammocks, and make you dream of ghosts +every night, till you grow as thin as blow-guns, and as stupid as +aye-ayes!”* + + * Two-toed sloths. + +This terrible counter-threat, in spite of the slight bathos involved, +had its effect; for it appealed to that dread of the sleep world which +is common to all savages: but the conjuror was ready to outbid the +prophetess, and had begun a fresh oration, when Amyas turned the tide +of war. Bursting into a huge laugh at the whole matter, he took the +conjuror by his shoulders, sent him with one crafty kick half-a-dozen +yards off upon his nose; and then, walking out of the ranks, shook hands +round with all his Indian acquaintances. + +Whereon, like grown-up babies, they all burst out laughing too, shook +hands with all the English, and then with each other; being, after all, +as glad as any bishops to prorogue the convocation, and let unpleasant +questions stand over till the next session. The Piache relented, like +a prudent man; Ayacanora returned to her hut to sulk; and Amyas to his +island, to long for Cary's return, for he felt himself on dangerous +ground. + +At last Will returned, safe and sound, and as merry as ever, not having +lost a man (though he had had a smart brush with the Guahibas). He +brought back three of the wounded men, now pretty nigh cured; the other +two, who had lost a leg apiece, had refused to come. They had Indian +wives; more than they could eat; and tobacco without end: and if it were +not for the gnats (of which Cary said that there were more mosquitoes +than there was air), they should be the happiest men alive. Amyas could +hardly blame the poor fellows; for the chance of their getting home +through the forest with one leg each was very small, and, after all, +they were making the best of a bad matter. And a very bad matter it +seemed to him, to be left in a heathen land; and a still worse matter, +when he overheard some of the men talking about their comrades' lonely +fate, as if, after all, they were not so much to be pitied. He said +nothing about it then, for he made a rule never to take notice of any +facts which he got at by eavesdropping, however unintentional; but he +longed that one of them would say as much to him, and he would “give +them a piece of his mind.” And a piece of his mind he had to give within +the week; for while he was on a hunting party, two of his men were +missing, and were not heard of for some days; at the end of which time +the old cacique come to tell him that he believed they had taken to the +forest, each with an Indian girl. + +Amyas was very wroth at the news. First, because it had never happened +before: he could say with honest pride, as Raleigh did afterwards when +he returned from his Guiana voyage, that no Indian woman had ever been +the worse for any man of his. He had preached on this point month after +month, and practised what he preached; and now his pride was sorely +hurt. + +Moreover, he dreaded offence to the Indians themselves: but on this +score the cacique soon comforted him, telling him that the girls, as far +as he could find, had gone off of their own free will; intimating that +he thought it somewhat an honor to the tribe that they had found favor +in the eyes of the bearded men; and moreover, that late wars had so +thinned the ranks of their men, that they were glad enough to find +husbands for their maidens, and had been driven of late years to kill +many of their female infants. This sad story, common perhaps to every +American tribe, and one of the chief causes of their extermination, +reassured Amyas somewhat: but he could not stomach either the loss of +his men, or their breach of discipline; and look for them he would. Did +any one know where they were? If the tribe knew, they did not care to +tell: but Ayacanora, the moment she found out his wishes, vanished into +the forest, and returned in two days, saying that she had found the +fugitives; but she would not show him where they were, unless he +promised not to kill them. He, of course, had no mind for so rigorous a +method: he both needed the men, and he had no malice against them,--for +the one, Ebsworthy, was a plain, honest, happy-go-lucky sailor, and +as good a hand as there was in the crew; and the other was that same +ne'er-do-weel Will Parracombe, his old schoolfellow, who had been +tempted by the gipsy-Jesuit at Appledore, and resisting that bait, had +made a very fair seaman. + +So forth Amyas went, with Ayacanora as a guide, some five miles upward +along the forest slopes, till the girl whispered, “There they are;” + and Amyas, pushing himself gently through a thicket of bamboo, beheld +a scene which, in spite of his wrath, kept him silent, and perhaps +softened, for a minute. + +On the farther side of a little lawn, the stream leapt through a chasm +beneath overarching vines, sprinkling eternal freshness upon all around, +and then sank foaming into a clear rock-basin, a bath for Dian's self. +On its farther side, the crag rose some twenty feet in height, bank upon +bank of feathered ferns and cushioned moss, over the rich green beds of +which drooped a thousand orchids, scarlet, white, and orange, and made +the still pool gorgeous with the reflection of their gorgeousness. At +its more quiet outfall, it was half-hidden in huge fantastic leaves and +tall flowering stems; but near the waterfall the grassy bank sloped +down toward the stream, and there, on palm-leaves strewed upon the turf, +beneath the shadow of the crags, lay the two men whom Amyas sought, +and whom, now he had found them, he had hardly heart to wake from their +delicious dream. + +For what a nest it was which they had found! the air was heavy with +the scent of flowers, and quivering with the murmur of the stream, the +humming of the colibris and insects, the cheerful song of birds, the +gentle cooing of a hundred doves; while now and then, from far away, +the musical wail of the sloth, or the deep toll of the bell-bird, came +softly to the ear. What was not there which eye or ear could need? And +what which palate could need either? For on the rock above, some strange +tree, leaning forward, dropped every now and then a luscious apple upon +the grass below, and huge wild plantains bent beneath their load of +fruit. + +There, on the stream bank, lay the two renegades from civilized life. +They had cast away their clothes, and painted themselves, like the +Indians, with arnotto and indigo. One lay lazily picking up the fruit +which fell close to his side; the other sat, his back against a cushion +of soft moss, his hands folded languidly upon his lap, giving himself up +to the soft influence of the narcotic coca-juice, with half-shut dreamy +eyes fixed on the everlasting sparkle of the waterfall-- + + “While beauty, born of murmuring sound, + Did pass into his face.” + +Somewhat apart crouched their two dusky brides, crowned with fragrant +flowers, but working busily, like true women, for the lords whom they +delighted to honor. One sat plaiting palm fibres into a basket; the +other was boring the stem of a huge milk-tree, which rose like some +mighty column on the right hand of the lawn, its broad canopy of leaves +unseen through the dense underwood of laurel and bamboo, and betokened +only by the rustle far aloft, and by the mellow shade in which it bathed +the whole delicious scene. + +Amyas stood silent for awhile, partly from noble shame at seeing two +Christian men thus fallen of their own self-will; partly because--and +he could not but confess that--a solemn calm brooded above that glorious +place, to break through which seemed sacrilege even while he felt it +a duty. Such, he thought, was Paradise of old; such our first parents' +bridal bower! Ah! if man had not fallen, he too might have dwelt forever +in such a home--with whom? He started, and shaking off the spell, +advanced sword in hand. + +The women saw him, and springing to their feet, caught up their long +pocunas, and leapt like deer each in front of her beloved. There they +stood, the deadly tubes pressed to their lips, eyeing him like tigresses +who protect their young, while every slender limb quivered, not with +terror, but with rage. + +Amyas paused, half in admiration, half in prudence; for one rash step +was death. But rushing through the canes, Ayacanora sprang to the front, +and shrieked to them in Indian. At the sight of the prophetess the women +wavered, and Amyas, putting on as gentle a face as he could, stepped +forward, assuring them in his best Indian that he would harm no one. + +“Ebsworthy! Parracombe! Are you grown such savages already, that you +have forgotten your captain? Stand up, men, and salute!” + +Ebsworthy sprang to his feet, obeyed mechanically, and then slipped +behind his bride again, as if in shame. The dreamer turned his head +languidly, raised his hand to his forehead, and then returned to his +contemplation. + +Amyas rested the point of his sword on the ground, and his hands upon +the hilt, and looked sadly and solemnly upon the pair. Ebsworthy broke +the silence, half reproachfully, half trying to bluster away the coming +storm. + +“Well, noble captain, so you've hunted out us poor fellows; and want to +drag us back again in a halter, I suppose?” + +“I came to look for Christians, and I find heathens; for men, and I find +swine. I shall leave the heathens to their wilderness, and the swine to +their trough. Parracombe!” + +“He's too happy to answer you, sir. And why not? What do you want of us? +Our two years vow is out, and we are free men now.” + +“Free to become like the beasts that perish? You are the queen's +servants still, and in her name I charge you-- + +“Free to be happy,” interrupted the man. “With the best of wives, the +best of food, a warmer bed than a duke's, and a finer garden than an +emperor's. As for clothes, why the plague should a man wear them where +he don't need them? As for gold, what's the use of it where Heaven sends +everything ready-made to your hands? Hearken, Captain Leigh. You've been +a good captain to me, and I'll repay you with a bit of sound advice. +Give up your gold-hunting, and toiling and moiling after honor and +glory, and copy us. Take that fair maid behind you there to wife; pitch +here with us; and see if you are not happier in one day than ever you +were in all your life before.” + +“You are drunk, sirrah! William Parracombe! Will you speak to me, or +shall I heave you into the stream to sober you?” + +“Who calls William Parracombe?” answered a sleepy voice. + +“I, fool!--your captain.” + +“I am not William Parracombe. He is dead long ago of hunger, and labor, +and heavy sorrow, and will never see Bideford town any more. He is +turned into an Indian now; and he is to sleep, sleep, sleep for a +hundred years, till he gets his strength again, poor fellow--” + +“Awake, then, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ +shall give thee light! A christened Englishman, and living thus the life +of a beast?” + +“Christ shall give thee light?” answered the same unnatural abstracted +voice. “Yes; so the parsons say. And they say too, that He is Lord of +heaven and earth. I should have thought His light was as near us here +as anywhere, and nearer too, by the look of the place. Look round!” + said he, waving a lazy hand, “and see the works of God, and the place of +Paradise, whither poor weary souls go home and rest, after their masters +in the wicked world have used them up, with labor and sorrow, and made +them wade knee-deep in blood--I'm tired of blood, and tired of gold. +I'll march no more; I'll fight no more; I'll hunger no more after vanity +and vexation of spirit. What shall I get by it? Maybe I shall leave my +bones in the wilderness. I can but do that here. Maybe I shall get home +with a few pezos, to die an old cripple in some stinking hovel, that a +monkey would scorn to lodge in here. You may go on; it'll pay you. You +may be a rich man, and a knight, and live in a fine house, and drink +good wine, and go to Court, and torment your soul with trying to +get more, when you've got too much already; plotting and planning to +scramble upon your neighbor's shoulders, as they all did--Sir Richard, +and Mr. Raleigh, and Chichester, and poor dear old Sir Warham, and all +of them that I used to watch when I lived before. They were no happier +than I was then; I'll warrant they are no happier now. Go your ways, +captain; climb to glory upon some other backs than ours, and leave us +here in peace, alone with God and God's woods, and the good wives that +God has given us, to play a little like school children. It's long since +I've had play-hours; and now I'll be a little child once more, with the +flowers, and the singing birds, and the silver fishes in the stream, +that are at peace, and think no harm, and want neither clothes, nor +money, nor knighthood, nor peerage, but just take what comes; and their +heavenly Father feedeth them, and Solomon in all his glory was not +arrayed like one of these--and will He not much more feed us, that are +of more value than many sparrows?” + +“And will you live here, shut out from all Christian ordinances?” + +“Christian ordinances? Adam and Eve had no parsons in Paradise. The Lord +was their priest, and the Lord was their shepherd, and He'll be ours +too. But go your ways, sir, and send up Sir John Brimblecombe, and let +him marry us here Church fashion (though we have sworn troth to each +other before God already), and let him give us the Holy Sacrament once +and for all, and then read the funeral service over us, and go his ways, +and count us for dead, sir--for dead we are to the wicked worthless +world we came out of three years ago. And when the Lord chooses to call +us, the little birds will cover us with leaves, as they did the babies +in the wood, and fresher flowers will grow out of our graves, sir, than +out of yours in that bare Northam churchyard there beyond the weary, +weary, weary sea.” + +His voice died away to a murmur, and his head sank on his breast. + +Amyas stood spell-bound. The effect of the narcotic was all but +miraculous in his eyes. The sustained eloquence, the novel richness of +diction in one seemingly drowned in sensual sloth, were, in his eyes, +the possession of some evil spirit. And yet he could not answer the Evil +One. His English heart, full of the divine instinct of duty and public +spirit, told him that it must be a lie: but how to prove it a lie? And +he stood for full ten minutes searching for an answer, which seemed to +fly farther and farther off the more he sought for it. + +His eye glanced upon Ayacanora. The two girls were whispering to her +smilingly. He saw one of them glance a look toward him, and then say +something, which raised a beautiful blush in the maiden's face. With a +playful blow at the speaker, she turned away. Amyas knew instinctively +that they were giving her the same advice as Ebsworthy had given to him. +Oh, how beautiful she was! Might not the renegades have some reason on +their side after all. + +He shuddered at the thought: but he could not shake it off. It glided +in like some gaudy snake, and wreathed its coils round all his heart +and brain. He drew back to the other side of the lawn, and thought and +thought-- + +Should he ever get home? If he did, might he not get home a beggar? +Beggar or rich, he would still have to face his mother, to go through +that meeting, to tell that tale, perhaps, to hear those reproaches, the +forecast of which had weighed on him like a dark thunder-cloud for two +weary years; to wipe out which by some desperate deed of glory he had +wandered the wilderness, and wandered in vain. + +Could he not settle here? He need not be a savage, he and his might +Christianize, civilize, teach equal law, mercy in war, chivalry to +women; found a community which might be hereafter as strong a barrier +against the encroachments of the Spaniard, as Manoa itself would have +been. Who knew the wealth of the surrounding forests? Even if there were +no gold, there were boundless vegetable treasures. What might he not +export down the rivers? This might be the nucleus of a great commercial +settlement-- + +And yet, was even that worth while? To settle here only to torment +his soul with fresh schemes, fresh ambitions; not to rest, but only to +change one labor for another? Was not your dreamer right? Did they not +all need rest? What if they each sat down among the flowers, beside an +Indian bride? They might live like Christians, while they lived like the +birds of heaven.-- + +What a dead silence! He looked up and round; the birds had ceased to +chirp; the parroquets were hiding behind the leaves; the monkeys were +clustered motionless upon the highest twigs; only out of the far depths +of the forest, the campanero gave its solemn toll, once, twice, thrice, +like a great death-knell rolling down from far cathedral towers. Was +it an omen? He looked up hastily at Ayacanora. She was watching him +earnestly. Heavens! was she waiting for his decision? Both dropped their +eyes. The decision was not to come from them. + +A rustle! a roar! a shriek! and Amyas lifted his eyes in time to see a +huge dark bar shoot from the crag above the dreamer's head, among the +group of girls. + +A dull crash, as the group flew asunder; and in the midst, upon the +ground, the tawny limbs of one were writhing beneath the fangs of a +black jaguar, the rarest and most terrible of the forest kings. Of one? +But of which? Was it Ayacanora? And sword in hand, Amyas rushed madly +forward; before he reached the spot those tortured limbs were still. + +It was not Ayacanora, for with a shriek which rang through the woods, +the wretched dreamer, wakened thus at last, sprang up and felt for his +sword. Fool! he had left it in his hammock! Screaming the name of his +dead bride, he rushed on the jaguar, as it crouched above its prey, and +seizing its head with teeth and nails, worried it, in the ferocity of +his madness, like a mastiff-dog. + +The brute wrenched its head from his grasp, and raised its dreadful paw. +Another moment and the husband's corpse would have lain by the wife's. + +But high in air gleamed Amyas's blade; down with all the weight of his +huge body and strong arm, fell that most trusty steel; the head of the +jaguar dropped grinning on its victim's corpse; + + “And all stood still, who saw him fall, + While men might count a score.” + +“O Lord Jesus,” said Amyas to himself, “Thou hast answered the devil +for me! And this is the selfish rest for which I would have bartered the +rest which comes by working where Thou hast put me!” + +They bore away the lithe corpse into the forest, and buried it under +soft moss and virgin mould; and so the fair clay was transfigured into +fairer flowers, and the poor, gentle, untaught spirit returned to God +who gave it. + +And then Amyas went sadly and silently back again, and Parracombe walked +after him, like one who walks in sleep. + +Ebsworthy, sobered by the shock, entreated to come too: but Amyas +forbade him gently,-- + +“No, lad, you are forgiven. God forbid that I should judge you or any +man! Sir John shall come up and marry you; and then, if it still be your +will to stay, the Lord forgive you, if you be wrong; in the meanwhile, +we will leave with you all that we can spare. Stay here and pray to God +to make you, and me too, wiser men.” + +And so Amyas departed. He had come out stern and proud; but he came back +again like a little child. + +Three days after Parracombe was dead. Once in camp he seemed unable to +eat or move, and having received absolution and communion from good Sir +John, faded away without disease or pain, “babbling of green fields,” + and murmuring the name of his lost Indian bride. + +Amyas, too, sought ghostly council of Sir John, and told him all which +had passed through his mind. + +“It was indeed a temptation of Diabolus,” said that simple sage; “for he +is by his very name the divider who sets man against man, and tempts +one to care only for oneself, and forget kin and country, and duty +and queen. But you have resisted him, Captain Leigh, like a true-born +Englishman, as you always are, and he has fled from you. But that is no +reason why we should not flee from him too; and so I think the sooner we +are out of this place, and at work again, the better for all our souls.” + +To which Amyas most devoutly said, “Amen!” If Ayacanora were the +daughter of ten thousand Incas, he must get out of her way as soon as +possible. + +The next day he announced his intention to march once more, and to +his delight found the men ready enough to move towards the Spanish +settlements. One thing they needed: gunpowder for their muskets. But +that they must make as they went along; that is, if they could get the +materials. Charcoal they could procure, enough to set the world on fire; +but nitre they had not yet seen; perhaps they should find it among the +hills: while as for sulphur, any brave man could get that where there +were volcanoes. Who had not heard how one of Cortez' Spaniards, in like +need, was lowered in a basket down the smoking crater of Popocatepetl, +till he had gathered sulphur enough to conquer an empire? And what a +Spaniard could do an Englishman could do, or they would know the reason +why. And if they found none--why clothyard arrows had done Englishmen's +work many a time already, and they could do it again, not to mention +those same blow-guns and their arrows of curare poison, which, though +they might be useless against Spaniards' armor, were far more valuable +than muskets for procuring food, from the simple fact of their silence. + +One thing remained; to invite their Indian friends to join them. And +that was done in due form the next day. + +Ayacanora was consulted, of course, and by the Piache, too, who was glad +enough to be rid of the rival preacher, and his unpleasantly good news +that men need not worship the devil, because there was a good God above +them. The maiden sang most melodious assent; the whole tribe echoed it; +and all went smoothly enough till the old cacique observed that before +starting a compact should be made between the allies as to their share +of the booty. + +Nothing could be more reasonable; and Amyas asked him to name his terms. + +“You take the gold, and we will take the prisoners.” + +“And what will you do with them?” asked Amyas, who recollected poor John +Oxenham's hapless compact made in like case. + +“Eat them,” quoth the cacique, innocently enough. + +Amyas whistled. + +“Humph!” said Cary. “The old proverb comes true--'the more the merrier: +but the fewer the better fare.' I think we will do without our red +friends for this time.” + +Ayacanora, who had been preaching war like a very Boadicea, was much +vexed. + +“Do you too want to dine off roast Spaniards?” asked Amyas. + +She shook her head, and denied the imputation with much disgust. + +Amyas was relieved; he had shrunk from joining the thought of so fair a +creature, however degraded, with the horrors of cannibalism. + +But the cacique was a man of business, and held out stanchly. + +“Is it fair?” he asked. “The white man loves gold, and he gets it. The +poor Indian, what use is gold to him? He only wants something to eat, +and he must eat his enemies. What else will pay him for going so far +through the forests hungry and thirsty? You will get all, and the +Omaguas will get nothing.” + +The argument was unanswerable; and the next day they started without the +Indians, while John Brimblecombe heaved many an honest sigh at leaving +them to darkness, the devil, and the holy trumpet. + +And Ayacanora? + +When their departure was determined, she shut herself up in her hut, and +appeared no more. Great was the weeping, howling, and leave-taking on +the part of the simple Indians, and loud the entreaties to come again, +bring them a message from Amalivaca's daughter beyond the seas, and help +them to recover their lost land of Papamene; but Ayacanora took no part +in them; and Amyas left her, wondering at her absence, but joyful and +light-hearted at having escaped the rocks of the Sirens, and being at +work once more. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +HOW THEY TOOK THE GOLD-TRAIN + + “God will relent, and quit thee all thy debt, + Who ever more approves, and more accepts + Him who imploring mercy sues for life, + Than who self-rigorous chooses death as due, + Which argues over-just, and self-displeased + For self-offence, more than for God offended.” + + Samson Agonistes. + +A fortnight or more has passed in severe toil, but not more severe than +they have endured many a time before. Bidding farewell once and +forever to the green ocean of the eastern plains, they have crossed the +Cordillera; they have taken a longing glance at the city of Santa Fe, +lying in the midst of rich gardens on its lofty mountain plateau, and +have seen, as was to be expected, that it was far too large a place for +any attempt of theirs. But they have not altogether thrown away their +time. Their Indian lad has discovered that a gold-train is going down +from Santa Fe toward the Magdalena; and they are waiting for it beside +the miserable rut which serves for a road, encamped in a forest of oaks +which would make them almost fancy themselves back again in Europe, were +it not for the tree-ferns which form the undergrowth; and were it not, +too, for the deep gorges opening at their very feet; in which, while +their brows are swept by the cool breezes of a temperate zone, they +can see far below, dim through their everlasting vapor-bath of rank hot +steam, the mighty forms and gorgeous colors of the tropic forest. + +They have pitched their camp among the tree-ferns, above a spot where +the path winds along a steep hill-side, with a sheer cliff below of many +a hundred feet. There was a road there once, perhaps, when Cundinamarca +was a civilized and cultivated kingdom; but all which Spanish misrule +has left of it are a few steps slipping from their places at the bottom +of a narrow ditch of mud. It has gone the way of the aqueducts, and +bridges, and post-houses, the gardens and the llama-flocks of that +strange empire. In the mad search for gold, every art of civilization +has fallen to decay, save architecture alone; and that survives only in +the splendid cathedrals which have risen upon the ruins of the temples +of the Sun, in honor of a milder Pantheon; if, indeed, that can be +called a milder one which demands (as we have seen already) human +sacrifices, unknown to the gentle nature-worship of the Incas. + +And now, the rapid tropic vegetation has reclaimed its old domains, +and Amyas and his crew are as utterly alone, within a few miles of an +important Spanish settlement, as they would be in the solitudes of the +Orinoco or the Amazon. + +In the meanwhile, all their attempts to find sulphur and nitre have been +unavailing; and they have been forced to depend after all (much to Yeo's +disgust) upon their swords and arrows. Be it so: Drake took Nombre de +Dios and the gold-train there with no better weapons; and they may do as +much. + +So, having blocked up the road above by felling a large tree across it, +they sit there among the flowers chewing coca, in default of food and +drink, and meditating among themselves the cause of a mysterious roar, +which has been heard nightly in their wake ever since they left the +banks of the Meta. Jaguar it is not, nor monkey: it is unlike any sound +they know; and why should it follow them? However, they are in the land +of wonders; and, moreover, the gold train is far more important than any +noise. + +At last, up from beneath there was a sharp crack and a loud cry. +The crack was neither the snapping of a branch, nor the tapping of a +woodpecker; the cry was neither the scream of the parrot, nor the howl +of the monkey. + +“That was a whip's crack,” said Yeo, “and a woman's wail. They are close +here, lads!” + +“A woman's? Do they drive women in their gangs?” asked Amyas. + +“Why not, the brutes? There they are, sir. Did you see their basnets +glitter?” + +“Men!” said Amyas, in a low voice, “I trust you all not to shoot till +I do. Then give them one arrow, out swords, and at them! Pass the word +along.” + +Up they came, slowly, and all hearts beat loud at their coming. + +First, about twenty soldiers, only one-half of whom were on foot; the +other half being borne, incredible as it may seem, each in a chair on +the back of a single Indian, while those who marched had consigned their +heaviest armor and their arquebuses into the hands of attendant slaves, +who were each pricked on at will by the pike of the soldier behind them. + +“The men are mad to let their ordnance out of their hands.” + +“Oh, sir, an Indian will pray to an arquebus not to shoot him; he sure +their artillery is safe enough,” said Yeo. + +“Look at the proud villains,” whispered another, “to make dumb beasts of +human creatures like that!” + +“Ten shot,” counted the business-like Amyas, “and ten pikes; Will can +tackle them up above.” + +Last of this troop came some inferior officer, also in his chair, who, +as he went slowly up the hill, with his face turned toward the gang +which followed, drew every other second the cigar from his lips, to +inspirit them with those pious ejaculations to the various objects of +his worship, divine, human, anatomic, wooden and textile, which earned +for the pious Spaniards of the sixteenth century the uncharitable +imputation of being at once the most fetish-ridden idolaters and the +most abominable swearers of all Europeans. + +“The blasphemous dog!” said Yeo, fumbling at his bow-string, as if +he longed to send an arrow through him. But Amyas had hardly laid his +finger on the impatient veteran's arm, when another procession followed, +which made them forget all else. + +A sad and hideous sight it was: yet one too common even then in those +remoter districts, where the humane edicts were disregarded which the +prayers of Dominican friars (to their everlasting honor be it spoken) +had wrung from the Spanish sovereigns, and which the legislation of that +most wise, virtuous, and heroic Inquisitor (paradoxical as the words may +seem), Pedro de la Gasca, had carried into effect in Peru,--futile and +tardy alleviations of cruelties and miseries unexampled in the +history of Christendom, or perhaps on earth, save in the conquests of +Sennacherib and Zingis Khan. But on the frontiers, where negroes were +imported to endure the toil which was found fatal to the Indian, and all +Indian tribes convicted (or suspected) of cannibalism were hunted down +for the salvation of their souls and the enslavement of their bodies, +such scenes as these were still too common; and, indeed, if we are to +judge from Humboldt's impartial account, were not very much amended even +at the close of the last century, in those much-boasted Jesuit missions +in which (as many of them as existed anywhere but on paper) military +tyranny was superadded to monastic, and the Gospel preached with fire +and sword, almost as shamelessly as by the first Conquistadores. + +A line of Indians, Negroes, and Zambos, naked, emaciated, scarred with +whips and fetters, and chained together by their left wrists, toiled +upwards, panting and perspiring under the burden of a basket held up +by a strap which passed across their foreheads. Yeo's sneer was but +too just; there were not only old men and youths among them, but women; +slender young girls, mothers with children, running at their knee; +and, at the sight, a low murmur of indignation rose from the ambushed +Englishmen, worthy of the free and righteous hearts of those days, when +Raleigh could appeal to man and God, on the ground of a common humanity, +in behalf of the outraged heathens of the New World; when Englishmen +still knew that man was man, and that the instinct of freedom was +the righteous voice of God; ere the hapless seventeenth century had +brutalized them also, by bestowing on them, amid a hundred other bad +legacies, the fatal gift of negro-slaves. + +But the first forty, so Amyas counted, bore on their backs a burden +which made all, perhaps, but him and Yeo, forget even the wretches who +bore it. Each basket contained a square package of carefully corded +hide; the look whereof friend Amyas knew full well. + +“What's in they, captain?” + +“Gold!” And at that magic word all eyes were strained greedily forward, +and such a rustle followed, that Amyas, in the very face of detection, +had to whisper-- + +“Be men, be men, or you will spoil all yet!” + +The last twenty, or so, of the Indians bore larger baskets, but more +lightly freighted, seemingly with manioc, and maize-bread, and other +food for the party; and after them came, with their bearers and +attendants, just twenty soldiers more, followed by the officer in +charge, who smiled away in his chair, and twirled two huge mustachios, +thinking of nothing less than of the English arrows which were itching +to be away and through his ribs. The ambush was complete; the only +question how and when to begin? + +Amyas had a shrinking, which all will understand, from drawing bow in +cool blood on men so utterly unsuspicious and defenceless, even though +in the very act of devilish cruelty--for devilish cruelty it was, as +three or four drivers armed with whips lingered up and down the slowly +staggering file of Indians, and avenged every moment's lagging, even +every stumble, by a blow of the cruel manati-hide, which cracked like +a pistol-shot against the naked limbs of the silent and uncomplaining +victim. + +Suddenly the casus belli, as usually happens, arose of its own accord. + +The last but one of the chained line was an old gray-headed man, +followed by a slender graceful girl of some eighteen years old, and +Amyas's heart yearned over them as they came up. Just as they passed, +the foremost of the file had rounded the corner above; there was a +bustle, and a voice shouted, “Halt, senors! there is a tree across the +path!” + +“A tree across the path?” bellowed the officer, with a variety of +passionate addresses to the Mother of Heaven, the fiends of hell, Saint +Jago of Compostella, and various other personages; while the line of +trembling Indians, told to halt above, and driven on by blows below, +surged up and down upon the ruinous steps of the Indian road, until the +poor old man fell grovelling on his face. + +The officer leaped down, and hurried upward to see what had happened. Of +course, he came across the old man. + +“Sin peccado concebida! Grandfather of Beelzebub, is this a place to lie +worshipping your fiends?” and he pricked the prostrate wretch with the +point of his sword. + +The old man tried to rise: but the weight on his head was too much for +him; he fell again, and lay motionless. + +The driver applied the manati-hide across his loins, once, twice, with +fearful force; but even that specific was useless. + +“Gastado, Senor Capitan,” said he, with a shrug. “Used up. He has been +failing these three months!” + +“What does the intendant mean by sending me out with worn-out cattle +like these? Forward there!” shouted he. “Clear away the tree, senors, +and I'll soon clear the chain. Hold it up, Pedrillo!” + +The driver held up the chain, which was fastened to the old man's wrist. +The officer stepped back, and flourished round his head a Toledo blade, +whose beauty made Amyas break the Tenth Commandment on the spot. + +The man was a tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, high-bred man; and Amyas +thought that he was going to display the strength of his arm, and the +temper of his blade, in severing the chain at one stroke. + +Even he was not prepared for the recondite fancies of a Spanish +adventurer, worthy son or nephew of those first conquerors, who used to +try the keenness of their swords upon the living bodies of Indians, and +regale themselves at meals with the odor of roasting caciques. + +The blade gleamed in the air, once, twice, and fell: not on the chain, +but on the wrist which it fettered. There was a shriek--a crimson +flash--and the chain and its prisoner were parted indeed. + +One moment more, and Amyas's arrow would have been through the throat +of the murderer, who paused, regarding his workmanship with a satisfied +smile; but vengeance was not to come from him. + +Quick and fierce as a tiger-cat, the girl sprang on the ruffian, and +with the intense strength of passion, clasped him in her arms, and +leaped with him from the narrow ledge into the abyss below. + +There was a rush, a shout; all faces were bent over the precipice. +The girl hung by her chained wrist: the officer was gone. There was a +moment's awful silence; and then Amyas heard his body crashing through +the tree-tops far below. + +“Haul her up! Hew her in pieces! Burn the witch!” and the driver, +seizing the chain, pulled at it with all his might, while all springing +from their chairs, stooped over the brink. + +Now was the time for Amyas! Heaven had delivered them into his hands. +Swift and sure, at ten yards off, his arrow rushed through the body of +the driver, and then, with a roar as of the leaping lion, he sprang like +an avenging angel into the midst of the astonished ruffians. + +His first thought was for the girl. In a moment, by sheer strength, he +had jerked her safely up into the road; while the Spaniards recoiled +right and left, fancying him for the moment some mountain giant or +supernatural foe. His hurrah undeceived them in an instant, and a cry +of “English! Lutheran dogs!” arose, but arose too late. The men of Devon +had followed their captain's lead: a storm of arrows left five Spaniards +dead, and a dozen more wounded, and down leapt Salvation Yeo, his white +hair streaming behind him, with twenty good swords more, and the work of +death began. + +The Spaniards fought like lions; but they had no time to fix their +arquebuses on the crutches; no room, in that narrow path, to use their +pikes. The English had the wall of them; and to have the wall there, was +to have the foe's life at their mercy. Five desperate minutes, and not a +living Spaniard stood upon those steps; and certainly no living one lay +in the green abyss below. Two only, who were behind the rest, happening +to be in full armor, escaped without mortal wound, and fled down the +hill again. + +“After them! Michael Evans and Simon Heard; and catch them, if they run +a league.” + +The two long and lean Clovelly men, active as deer from forest training, +ran two feet for the Spaniard's one; and in ten minutes returned, having +done their work; while Amyas and his men hurried past the Indians, to +help Cary and the party forward, where shouts and musket shots announced +a sharp affray. + +Their arrival settled the matter. All the Spaniards fell but three or +four, who scrambled down the crannies of the cliff. + +“Let not one of them escape! Slay them as Israel slew Amalek!” cried +Yeo, as he bent over; and ere the wretches could reach a place of +shelter, an arrow was quivering in each body, as it rolled lifeless down +the rocks. + +“Now then! Loose the Indians!” + +They found armorers tools on one of the dead bodies, and it was done. + +“We are your friends,” said Amyas. “All we ask is, that you shall help +us to carry this gold down to the Magdalena, and then you are free.” + +Some few of the younger grovelled at his knees, and kissed his feet, +hailing him as the child of the Sun: but the most part kept a stolid +indifference, and when freed from their fetters, sat quietly down where +they stood, staring into vacancy. The iron had entered too deeply into +their soul. They seemed past hope, enjoyment, even understanding. + +But the young girl, who was last of all in the line, as soon as she was +loosed, sprang to her father's body, speaking no word, lifted it in her +thin arms, laid it across her knees, kissed the fallen lips, stroked +the furrowed cheeks, murmured inarticulate sounds like the cooing of a +woodland dove, of which none knew the meaning but she, and he who heard +not, for his soul had long since fled. Suddenly the truth flashed on +her; silent as ever, she drew one long heaving breath, and rose erect, +the body in her arms. + +Another moment, and she had leaped into the abyss. + +They watched her dark and slender limbs, twined closely round the old +man's corpse, turn over, and over, and over, till a crash among the +leaves, and a scream among the birds, told that she had reached the +trees; and the green roof hid her from their view. + +“Brave lass!” shouted a sailor. + +“The Lord forgive her!” said Yeo. “But, your worship, we must have these +rascals' ordnance.” + +“And their clothes too, Yeo, if we wish to get down the Magdalena +unchallenged. Now listen, my masters all! We have won, by God's good +grace, gold enough to serve us the rest of our lives, and that without +losing a single man; and may yet win more, if we be wise, and He thinks +good. But oh, my friends, remember Mr. Oxenham and his crew; and do +not make God's gift our ruin, by faithlessness, or greediness, or any +mutinous haste.” + +“You shall find none in us!” cried several men. “We know your worship. +We can trust our general.” + +“Thank God!” said Amyas. “Now then, it will be no shame or sin to +make the Indians carry it, saving the women, whom God forbid we +should burden. But we must pass through the very heart of the Spanish +settlements, and by the town of Saint Martha itself. So the clothes and +weapons of these Spaniards we must have, let it cost us what labor it +may. How many lie in the road?” + +“Thirteen here, and about ten up above,” said Cary. + +“Then there are near twenty missing. Who will volunteer to go down over +cliff, and bring up the spoil of them?” + +“I, and I, and I;” and a dozen stepped out, as they did always when +Amyas wanted anything done; for the simple reason, that they knew that +he meant to help at the doing of it himself. + +“Very well, then, follow me. Sir John, take the Indian lad for your +interpreter, and try and comfort the souls of these poor heathens. Tell +them that they shall all be free.” + +“Why, who is that comes up the road?” + +All eyes were turned in the direction of which he spoke. And, wonder of +wonders! up came none other than Ayacanora herself, blow-gun in hand, +bow on back, and bedecked in all her feather garments, which last were +rather the worse for a fortnight's woodland travel. + +All stood mute with astonishment, as, seeing Amyas, she uttered a cry +of joy, quickened her pace into a run, and at last fell panting and +exhausted at his feet. + +“I have found you!” she said; “you ran away from me, but you could not +escape me!” And she fawned round Amyas, like a dog who has found his +master, and then sat down on the bank, and burst into wild sobs. + +“God help us!” said Amyas, clutching his hair, as he looked down upon +the beautiful weeper. “What am I to do with her, over and above all +these poor heathens?” + +But there was no time to be lost, and over the cliff he scrambled; while +the girl, seeing that the main body of the English remained, sat down on +a point of rock to watch him. + +After half-an-hour's hard work, the weapons, clothes, and armor of the +fallen Spaniards were hauled up the cliff, and distributed in bundles +among the men; the rest of the corpses were thrown over the precipice, +and they started again upon their road toward the Magdalena, while Yeo +snorted like a war-horse who smells the battle, at the delight of once +more handling powder and ball. + +“We can face the world now, sir! Why not go back and try Santa Fe, after +all?” + +But Amyas thought that enough was as good as a feast, and they held on +downwards, while the slaves followed, without a sign of gratitude, but +meekly obedient to their new masters, and testifying now and then by a +sign or a grunt, their surprise at not being beaten, or made to carry +their captors. Some, however, caught sight of the little calabashes of +coca which the English carried. That woke them from their torpor, +and they began coaxing abjectly (and not in vain) for a taste of that +miraculous herb, which would not only make food unnecessary, and enable +their panting lungs to endure that keen mountain air, but would rid +them, for awhile at least, of the fallen Indian's most unpitying foe, +the malady of thought. + +As the cavalcade turned the corner of the mountain, they paused for one +last look at the scene of that fearful triumph. Lines of vultures were +already streaming out of infinite space, as if created suddenly for the +occasion. A few hours and there would be no trace of that fierce fray, +but a few white bones amid untrodden beds of flowers. + +And now Amyas had time to ask Ayacanora the meaning of this her strange +appearance. He wished her anywhere but where she was: but now that she +was here, what heart could be so hard as not to take pity on the poor +wild thing? And Amyas as he spoke to her had, perhaps, a tenderness in +his tone, from very fear of hurting her, which he had never used before. +Passionately she told him how she had followed on their track day and +night, and had every evening made sounds, as loud as she dared, in hopes +of their hearing her, and either waiting for her, or coming back to see +what caused the noise. + +Amyas now recollected the strange roaring which had followed them. + +“Noises? What did you make them with?” + +Ayacanora lifted her finger with an air of most self-satisfied mystery, +and then drew cautiously from under her feather cloak an object at which +Amyas had hard work to keep his countenance. + +“Look!” whispered she, as if half afraid that the thing itself should +hear her. “I have it--the holy trumpet!” + +There it was verily, that mysterious bone of contention; a handsome +earthen tube some two feet long, neatly glazed, and painted with quaint +grecques and figures of animals; a relic evidently of some civilization +now extinct. + +Brimblecombe rubbed his little fat hands. “Brave maid! you have cheated +Satan this time,” quoth he; while Yeo advised that the “idolatrous +relic” should be forthwith “hove over cliff.” + +“Let be,” said Amyas. “What is the meaning of this, Ayacanora? And why +have you followed us?” + +She told a long story, from which Amyas picked up, as far as he could +understand her, that that trumpet had been for years the torment of her +life; the one thing in the tribe superior to her; the one thing which +she was not allowed to see, because, forsooth, she was a woman. So she +determined to show them that a woman was as good as a man; and hence +her hatred of marriage, and her Amazonian exploits. But still the Piache +would not show her that trumpet, or tell her where it was; and as for +going to seek it, even she feared the superstitious wrath of the tribe +at such a profanation. But the day after the English went, the Piache +chose to express his joy at their departure; whereon, as was to be +expected, a fresh explosion between master and pupil, which ended, she +confessed, in her burning the old rogue's hut over his head, from which +he escaped with loss of all his conjuring-tackle, and fled raging into +the woods, vowing that he would carry off the trumpet to the neighboring +tribe. Whereon, by a sudden impulse, the young lady took plenty of coca, +her weapons, and her feathers, started on his trail, and ran him to +earth just as he was unveiling the precious mystery. At which sight +(she confessed) she was horribly afraid, and half inclined to run; but, +gathering courage from the thought that the white men used to laugh at +the whole matter, she rushed upon the hapless conjuror, and bore off her +prize in triumph; and there it was! + +“I hope you have not killed him?” said Amyas. + +“I did beat him a little; but I thought you would not let me kill him.” + +Amyas was half amused with her confession of his authority over her; but +she went on-- + +“And then I dare not go back to the Indians; so I was forced to come +after you.” + +“And is that, then, your only reason for coming after us?” asked stupid +Amyas. + +He had touched some secret chord--though what it was he was too busy to +inquire. The girl drew herself up proudly, blushing scarlet, and said: + +“You never tell lies. Do you think that I would tell lies?” + +On which she fell to the rear, and followed them steadfastly, speaking +to no one, but evidently determined to follow them to the world's end. + +They soon left the highroad; and for several days held on downwards, +hewing their path slowly and painfully through the thick underwood. On +the evening of the fourth day, they had reached the margin of a river, +at a point where it seemed broad and still enough for navigation. For +those three days they had not seen a trace of human beings, and the spot +seemed lonely enough for them to encamp without fear of discovery, and +begin the making of their canoes. They began to spread themselves along +the stream, in search of the soft-wooded trees proper for their purpose; +but hardly had their search begun, when, in the midst of a dense +thicket, they came upon a sight which filled them with astonishment. +Beneath a honeycombed cliff, which supported one enormous cotton-tree, +was a spot of some thirty yards square sloping down to the stream, +planted in rows with magnificent banana-plants, full twelve feet high, +and bearing among their huge waxy leaves clusters of ripening +fruit; while, under their mellow shade, yams and cassava plants were +flourishing luxuriantly, the whole being surrounded by a hedge of orange +and scarlet flowers. There it lay, streaked with long shadows from the +setting sun, while a cool southern air rustled in the cotton-tree, and +flapped to and fro the great banana-leaves; a tiny paradise of art and +care. But where was its inhabitant? + +Aroused by the noise of their approach, a figure issued from a cave in +the rocks, and, after gazing at them for a moment, came down the garden +towards them. He was a tall and stately old man, whose snow-white beard +and hair covered his chest and shoulders, while his lower limbs were +wrapt in Indian-web. Slowly and solemnly he approached, a staff in one +hand, a string of beads in the other, the living likeness of some old +Hebrew prophet, or anchorite of ancient legend. He bowed courteously to +Amyas (who of course returned his salute), and was in act to speak, when +his eye fell upon the Indians, who were laying down their burdens in +a heap under the trees. His mild countenance assumed instantly an +expression of the acutest sorrow and displeasure; and, striking his +hands together, he spoke in Spanish: + +“Alas! miserable me! Alas! unhappy senors! Do my old eyes deceive me, +and is it one of those evil visions of the past which haunt my dreams +by night; or has the accursed thirst of gold, the ruin of my race, +penetrated even into this my solitude? Oh, senors, senors, know you not +that you bear with you your own poison, your own familiar fiend, the +root of every evil? And is it not enough for you, senors, to load +yourselves with the wedge of Achan, and partake his doom, but you must +make these hapless heathens the victims of your greed and cruelty, +and forestall for them on earth those torments which may await their +unbaptized souls hereafter?” + +“We have preserved, and not enslaved these Indians, ancient senor,” said +Amyas, proudly; “and to-morrow will see them as free as the birds over +our heads.” + +“Free? Then you cannot be countrymen of mine! But pardon an old man, +my son, if he has spoken too hastily in the bitterness of his own +experience. But who and whence are you? And why are you bringing into +this lonely wilderness that gold--for I know too well the shape of those +accursed packets, which would God that I had never seen!” + +“What we are, reverend sir, matters little, as long as we behave to you +as the young should to the old. As for our gold, it will be a curse or +a blessing to us, I conceive, just as we use it well or ill; and so is +a man's head, or his hand, or any other thing; but that is no reason for +cutting off his limbs for fear of doing harm with them; neither is it +for throwing away those packages, which, by your leave, we shall deposit +in one of these caves. We must be your neighbors, I fear, for a day +or two; but I can promise you, that your garden shall be respected, on +condition that you do not inform any human soul of our being here.” + +“God forbid, senor, that I should try to increase the number of my +visitors, much less to bring hither strife and blood, of which I have +seen too much already. As you have come in peace, in peace depart. Leave +me alone with God and my penitence, and may the Lord have mercy on you!” + +And he was about to withdraw, when, recollecting himself, he turned +suddenly to Amyas again-- + +“Pardon me, senor, if, after forty years of utter solitude, I shrink at +first from the conversation of human beings, and forget, in the habitual +shyness of a recluse, the duties of a hospitable gentleman of Spain. +My garden, and all which it produces, is at your service. Only let me +entreat that these poor Indians shall have their share; for heathens +though they be, Christ died for them; and I cannot but cherish in my +soul some secret hope that He did not die in vain.” + +“God forbid!” said Brimblecombe. “They are no worse than we, for aught +I see, whatsoever their fathers may have been; and they have fared no +worse than we since they have been with us, nor will, I promise you.” + +The good fellow did not tell that he had been starving himself for the +last three days to cram the children with his own rations; and that +the sailors, and even Amyas, had been going out of their way every five +minutes, to get fruit for their new pets. + +A camp was soon formed; and that evening the old hermit asked Amyas, +Cary, and Brimblecombe to come up into his cavern. + +They went; and after the accustomed compliments had passed, sat down on +mats upon the ground, while the old man stood, leaning against a slab of +stone surmounted by a rude wooden cross, which evidently served him as +a place of prayer. He seemed restless and anxious, as if he waited for +them to begin the conversation; while they, in their turn, waited for +him. At last, when courtesy would not allow him to be silent any longer, +he began with a faltering voice: + +“You may be equally surprised, senors, at my presence in such a spot, +and at my asking you to become my guests even for one evening, while I +have no better hospitality to offer you.” + +“It is superfluous, senor, to offer us food in your own habitation when +you have already put all that you possess at our command.” + +“True, senors: and my motive for inviting you was, perhaps, somewhat of +a selfish one. I am possessed by a longing to unburthen my heart of a +tale which I never yet told to man, and which I fear can give to you +nothing but pain; and yet I will entreat you, of your courtesy, to hear +of that which you cannot amend, simply in mercy to a man who feels that +he must confess to some one, or die as miserable as he has lived. And +I believe my confidence will not be misplaced, when it is bestowed upon +you. I have been a cavalier, even as you are; and, strange as it may +seem, that which I have to tell I would sooner impart to the ears of a +soldier than of a priest; because it will then sink into souls which can +at least sympathize, though they cannot absolve. And you, cavaliers, I +perceive to be noble, from your very looks; to be valiant, by your mere +presence in this hostile land; and to be gentle, courteous, and prudent, +by your conduct this day to me and to your captives. Will you, then, +hear an old man's tale? I am, as you see, full of words; for speech, +from long disuse, is difficult to me, and I fear at every sentence lest +my stiffened tongue should play the traitor to my worn-out brain: but +if my request seems impertinent, you have only to bid me talk as a host +should, of matters which concern his guests, and not himself.” + +The three young men, equally surprised and interested by this exordium, +could only entreat their host to “use their ears as those of his +slaves,” on which, after fresh apologies, he began: + +“Know, then, victorious cavaliers, that I, whom you now see here as a +poor hermit, was formerly one of the foremost of that terrible band who +went with Pizarro to the conquest of Peru. Eighty years old am I this +day, unless the calendar which I have carved upon yonder tree deceives +me; and twenty years old was I when I sailed with that fierce man from +Panama, to do that deed with which all earth, and heaven, and hell +itself, I fear, has rung. How we endured, suffered, and triumphed; how, +mad with success, and glutted with blood, we turned our swords against +each other, I need not tell to you. For what gentleman of Europe knows +not our glory and our shame?” + +His hearers bowed assent. + +“Yes; you have heard of our prowess: for glorious we were awhile, in +the sight of God and man. But I will not speak of our glory, for it is +tarnished; nor of our wealth, for it was our poison; nor of the sins of +my comrades, for they have expiated them; but of my own sins, senors, +which are more in number than the hairs of my head, and a burden too +great to bear. Miserere Domine!” + +And smiting on his breast, the old warrior went on: + +“As I said, we were mad with blood; and none more mad than I. Surely it +is no fable that men are possessed, even in this latter age, by devils. +Why else did I rejoice in slaying? Why else was I, the son of a noble +and truthful cavalier of Castile, among the foremost to urge upon +my general the murder of the Inca? Why did I rejoice over his dying +agonies? Why, when Don Ferdinando de Soto returned, and upbraided us +with our villainy, did I, instead of confessing the sin which that noble +cavalier set before us, withstand him to his face, ay, and would have +drawn the sword on him, but that he refused to fight a liar, as he said +that I was?” + +“Then Don de Soto was against the murder? So his own grandson told me. +But I had heard of him only as a tyrant and a butcher.” + +“Senor, he was compact of good and evil, as are other men: he has paid +dearly for his sin; let us hope that he has been paid in turn for his +righteousness.” + +John Brimblecombe shook his head at this doctrine, but did not speak. + +“So you know his grandson? I trust he is a noble cavalier?” + +Amyas was silent; the old gentleman saw that he had touched some sore +point, and continued: + +“And why, again, senors, did I after that day give myself up to cruelty +as to a sport; yea, thought that I did God service by destroying the +creatures whom He had made; I who now dare not destroy a gnat, lest I +harm a being more righteous than myself? Was I mad? If I was, how then +was I all that while as prudent as I am this day? But I am not here to +argue, senors, but to confess. In a word, there was no deed of blood +done for the next few years in which I had not my share, if it were but +within my reach. When Challcuchima was burned, I was consenting; when +that fair girl, the wife of Inca Manco, was tortured to death, I smiled +at the agonies at which she too smiled, and taunted on the soldiers, to +try if I could wring one groan from her before she died. You know what +followed, the pillage, the violence, the indignities offered to the +virgins of the Sun. Senors, I will not pollute your chaste ears with +what was done. But, senors, I had a brother.” + +And the old man paused awhile. + +“A brother--whether better or worse than me, God knows, before whom he +has appeared ere now. At least he did not, as I did, end as a rebel +to his king! There was a maiden in one of those convents, senors, more +beautiful than day: and (I blush to tell it) the two brothers of whom +I spoke quarrelled for the possession of her. They struck each other, +senors! Who struck first I know not; but swords were drawn, and--The +cavaliers round parted them, crying shame. And one of those two +brothers--the one who speaks to you now--crying, 'If I cannot have her, +no man shall!' turned the sword which was aimed at his brother, against +that hapless maiden--and--hear me out, senors, before you flee from my +presence as from that of a monster!--stabbed her to the heart. And as +she died--one moment more, senors, that I may confess all!--she looked +up in my face with a smile as of heaven, and thanked me for having rid +her once and for all from Christians and their villainy.” + +The old man paused. + +“God forgive you, senor!” said Jack Brimblecombe, softly. + +“You do not, then, turn from me, do not curse me? Then I will try you +farther still, senors. I will know from human lips, whether man can do +such deeds as I have done, and yet be pitied by his kind; that so I may +have some hope, that where man has mercy, God may have mercy also. Do +you think that I repented at those awful words? Nothing less, senors +all. No more than I did when De Soto (on whose soul God have mercy) +called me--me, a liar! I knew myself a sinner; and for that very reason +I was determined to sin. I would go on, that I might prove myself right +to myself, by showing that I could go on, and not be struck dead from +heaven. Out of mere pride, senors, and self-will, I would fill up the +cup of my iniquity; and I filled it. + +“You know, doubtless, senors, how, after the death of old Almagro, his +son's party conspired against Pizarro. Now my brother remained faithful +to his old commander; and for that very reason, if you will believe it, +did I join the opposite party, and gave myself up, body and soul, to do +Almagro's work. It was enough for me, that the brother who had struck +me thought a man right, for me to think that man a devil. What Almagro's +work was, you know. He slew Pizarro, murdered him, senors, like a dog, +or rather, like an old lion.” + +“He deserved his doom,” said Amyas. + +“Let God judge him, senor, not we; and least of all of us I, who drew +the first blood, and perhaps the last, that day. I, senors, it was +who treacherously stabbed Francisco de Chanes on the staircase, and so +opened the door which else had foiled us all; and I--But I am speaking +to men of honor, not to butchers. Suffice it that the old man died like +a lion, and that we pulled him down, young as we were, like curs. + +“Well, I followed Almagro's fortunes. I helped to slay Alvarado. Call +that my third murder, if you will, for if he was traitor to a traitor, I +was traitor to a true man. Then to the war; you know how Vaca de Castro +was sent from Spain to bring order and justice where was naught but +chaos, and the dance of all devils. We met him on the hills of Chupas. +Peter of Candia, the Venetian villain, pointed our guns false, and +Almagro stabbed him to the heart. We charged with our lances, man +against man, horse against horse. All fights I ever fought” (and the old +man's eyes flashed out the ancient fire) “were child's play to that day. +Our lances shivered like reeds, and we fell on with battle-axe and mace. +None asked for quarter, and none gave it; friend to friend, cousin to +cousin--no, nor brother, O God! to brother. We were the better armed: +but numbers were on their side. Fat Carbajal charged our cannon like an +elephant, and took them; but Holguin was shot down. I was with Almagro, +and we swept all before us, inch by inch, but surely, till the night +fell. Then Vaca de Castro, the licentiate, the clerk, the schoolman, +the man of books, came down on us with his reserve like a whirlwind. +Oh! cavaliers, did not God fight against us, when He let us, the men of +iron, us, the heroes of Cuzco and Vilcaconga, be foiled by a scholar in +a black gown, with a pen behind his ear? We were beaten. Some ran; some +did not run, senors; and I did not. Geronimo de Alvarado shouted to +me, 'We slew Pizarro! We killed the tyrant!' and we rushed upon the +conqueror's lances, to die like cavaliers. There was a gallant gentleman +in front of me. His lance struck me in the crest, and bore me over my +horse's croup: but mine, senors, struck him full in the vizor. We both +went to the ground together, and the battle galloped over us. + +“I know not how long I lay, for I was stunned: but after awhile I lifted +myself. My lance was still clenched in my hand, broken but not parted. +The point of it was in my foeman's brain. I crawled to him, weary and +wounded, and saw that he was a noble cavalier. He lay on his back, his +arms spread wide. I knew that he was dead: but there came over me the +strangest longing to see that dead man's face. Perhaps I knew him. At +least I could set my foot upon it, and say, 'Vanquished as I am, there +lies a foe!' I caught hold of the rivets, and tore his helmet off. The +moon shone bright, senors, as bright as she shines now--the glaring, +ghastly, tell-tale moon, which shows man all the sins which he tries to +hide; and by that moonlight, senors, I beheld the dead man's face. And +it was the face of my brother! + + * * * * * + +“Did you ever guess, most noble cavaliers, what Cain's curse might be +like? Look on me, and know! + +“I tore off my armor and fled, as Cain fled--northward ever, till I +should reach a land where the name of Spaniard, yea, and the name of +Christian, which the Spaniard has caused to be blasphemed from east to +west, should never come. I sank fainting, and waked beneath this rock, +this tree, forty-four years ago, and I have never left them since, save +once, to obtain seeds from Indians, who knew not that I was a Spanish +Conquistador. And may God have mercy on my soul!” + +The old man ceased; and his young hearers, deeply affected by his tale, +sat silent for a few minutes. Then John Brimblecombe spoke: + +“You are old, sir, and I am young; and perhaps it is not my place to +counsel you. Moreover, sir, in spite of this strange dress of mine, I am +neither more nor less than an English priest; and I suppose you will not +be willing to listen to a heretic.” + +“I have seen Catholics, senor, commit too many abominations even with +the name of God upon their lips, to shrink from a heretic if he speak +wisely and well. At least, you are a man; and after all, my heart yearns +more and more, the longer I sit among you, for the speech of beings of +my own race. Say what you will, in God's name!” + +“I hold, sir,” said Jack, modestly, “according to holy Scripture, that +whosoever repents from his heart, as God knows you seem to have done, is +forgiven there and then; and though his sins be as scarlet, they shall +be white as snow, for the sake of Him who died for all.” + +“Amen! Amen!” said the old man, looking lovingly at his little crucifix. +“I hope and pray--His name is Love. I know it now; who better? But, sir, +even if He have forgiven me, how can I forgive myself? In honor, sir, I +must be just, and sternly just, to myself, even if God be indulgent; +as He has been to me, who has left me here in peace for forty years, +instead of giving me a prey to the first puma or jaguar which howls +round me every night. He has given me time to work out my own salvation; +but have I done it? That doubt maddens me at whiles. When I look upon +that crucifix, I float on boundless hope: but if I take my eyes from +it for a moment, faith fails, and all is blank, and dark, and dreadful, +till the devil whispers me to plunge into yon stream, and once and for +ever wake to certainty, even though it be in hell.” + +What was Jack to answer? He himself knew not at first. More was wanted +than the mere repetition of free pardon. + +“Heretic as I am, sir, you will not believe me when I tell you, as a +priest, that God accepts your penitence.” + +“My heart tells me so already, at moments. But how know I that it does +not lie?” + +“Senor,” said Jack, “the best way to punish oneself for doing ill, seems +to me to go and do good; and the best way to find out whether God means +you well, is to find out whether He will help you to do well. If you +have wronged Indians in time past, see whether you cannot right them +now. If you can, you are safe. For the Lord will not send the devil's +servants to do His work.” + +The old man held down his head. + +“Right the Indians? Alas! what is done, is done!” + +“Not altogether, senor,” said Amyas, “as long as an Indian remains alive +in New Granada.” + +“Senor, shall I confess my weakness? A voice within me has bid me a +hundred times go forth and labor, for those oppressed wretches, but I +dare not obey. I dare not look them in the face. I should fancy that +they knew my story; that the very birds upon the trees would reveal my +crime, and bid them turn from me with horror.” + +“Senor,” said Amyas, “these are but the sick fancies of a noble spirit, +feeding on itself in solitude. You have but to try to conquer.” + +“And look now,” said Jack, “if you dare not go forth to help the +Indians, see now how God has brought the Indians to your own door. Oh, +excellent sir--” + +“Call me not excellent,” said the old man, smiting his breast. + +“I do, and shall, sir, while I see in you an excellent repentance, an +excellent humility, and an excellent justice,” said Jack. “But oh, sir, +look upon these forty souls, whom we must leave behind, like sheep which +have no shepherd. Could you not teach them to fear God and to love each +other, to live like rational men, perhaps to die like Christians? They +would obey you as a dog obeys his master. You might be their king, their +father, yea, their pope, if you would.” + +“You do not speak like a Lutheran.” + +“I am not a Lutheran, but an Englishman: but, Protestant as I am, God +knows, I had sooner see these poor souls of your creed, than of none.” + +“But I am no priest.” + +“When they are ready,” said Jack, “the Lord will send a priest. If you +begin the good work, you may trust to Him to finish it.” + +“God help me!” said the old warrior. + +The talk lasted long into the night, but Amyas was up long before +daybreak, felling the trees; and as he and Cary walked back to +breakfast, the first thing which they saw was the old man in his garden +with four or five Indian children round him, talking smilingly to them. + +“The old man's heart is sound still,” said Will. “No man is lost who +still is fond of little children.” + +“Ah, senors!” said the hermit as they came up, “you see that I have +begun already to act upon your advice.” + +“And you have begun at the right end,” quoth Amyas; “if you win the +children, you win the mothers.” + +“And if you win the mothers,” quoth Will, “the poor fathers must needs +obey their wives, and follow in the wake.” + +The old man only sighed. “The prattle of these little ones softens +my hard heart, senors, with a new pleasure; but it saddens me, when I +recollect that there may be children of mine now in the world--children +who have never known a father's love--never known aught but a master's +threats--” + +“God has taken care of these little ones. Trust that He has taken care +of yours.” + +That day Amyas assembled the Indians, and told them that they must obey +the hermit as their king, and settle there as best they could: for if +they broke up and wandered away, nothing was left for them but to fall +one by one into the hands of the Spaniards. They heard him with their +usual melancholy and stupid acquiescence, and went and came as they were +bid, like animated machines; but the negroes were of a different temper; +and four or five stout fellows gave Amyas to understand that they had +been warriors in their own country, and that warriors they would be +still; and nothing should keep them from Spaniard-hunting. Amyas saw +that the presence of these desperadoes in the new colony would both +endanger the authority of the hermit, and bring the Spaniards down +upon it in a few weeks; so, making a virtue of necessity, he asked them +whether they would go Spaniard-hunting with him. + +This was just what the bold Coromantees wished for; they grinned and +shouted their delight at serving under so great a warrior, and then set +to work most gallantly, getting through more in the day than any ten +Indians, and indeed than any two Englishmen. + +So went on several days, during which the trees were felled, and the +process of digging them out began; while Ayacanora, silent and moody, +wandered into the woods all day with her blow-gun, and brought home +at evening a load of parrots, monkeys, and curassows; two or three old +hands were sent out to hunt likewise; so that, what with the game and +the fish of the river, which seemed inexhaustible, and the fruit of the +neighboring palm-trees, there was no lack of food in the camp. But what +to do with Ayacanora weighed heavily on the mind of Amyas. He opened his +heart on the matter to the old hermit, and asked him whether he would +take charge of her. The latter smiled, and shook his head at the notion. +“If your report of her be true, I may as well take in hand to tame a +jaguar.” However, he promised to try; and one evening, as they were +all standing together before the mouth of the cave, Ayacanora came up +smiling with the fruit of her day's sport; and Amyas, thinking this a +fit opportunity, began a carefully prepared harangue to her, which he +intended to be altogether soothing, and even pathetic,--to the effect +that the maiden, having no parents, was to look upon this good old man +as her father; that he would instruct her in the white man's religion +(at which promise Yeo, as a good Protestant, winced a good deal), and +teach her how to be happy and good, and so forth; and that, in fine, she +was to remain there with the hermit. + +She heard him quietly, her great dark eyes opening wider and wider, her +bosom swelling, her stature seeming to grow taller every moment, as she +clenched her weapons firmly in both her hands. Beautiful as she always +was, she had never looked so beautiful before; and as Amyas spoke of +parting with her, it was like throwing away a lovely toy; but it must be +done, for her sake, for his, perhaps for that of all the crew. + +The last words had hardly passed his lips, when, with a shriek of +mingled scorn, rage, and fear, she dashed through the astonished group. + +“Stop her!” were Amyas's first words; but his next were, “Let her +go!” for, springing like a deer through the little garden and over the +flower-fence, she turned, menacing with her blow-gun the sailors, who +had already started in her pursuit. + +“Let her alone, for Heaven's sake!” shouted Amyas, who, he scarce knew +why, shrank from the thought of seeing those graceful limbs struggling +in the seamen's grasp. + +She turned again, and in another minute her gaudy plumes had vanished +among the dark forest stems, as swiftly as if she had been a passing +bird. + +All stood thunderstruck at this unexpected end to the conference. At +last Aymas spoke: + +“There's no use in standing here idle, gentlemen. Staring after her +won't bring her back. After all, I'm glad she's gone.” + +But the tone of his voice belied his words. Now he had lost her, he +wanted her back; and perhaps every one present, except he, guessed why. + +But Ayacanora did not return; and ten days more went on in continual +toil at the canoes without any news of her from the hunters. Amyas, by +the by, had strictly bidden these last not to follow the girl, not even +to speak to her, if they came across her in their wanderings. He was +shrewd enough to guess that the only way to cure her sulkiness was to +outsulk her; but there was no sign of her presence in any direction; and +the canoes being finished at last, the gold, and such provisions as they +could collect, were placed on board, and one evening the party prepared +for their fresh voyage. They determined to travel as much as possible by +night, for fear of discovery, especially in the neighborhood of the few +Spanish settlements which were then scattered along the banks of the +main stream. These, however, the negroes knew, so that there was no fear +of coming on them unawares; and as for falling asleep in their night +journeys, “Nobody,” the negroes said, “ever slept on the Magdalena; the +mosquitoes took too good care of that.” Which fact Amyas and his crew +verified afterwards as thoroughly as wretched men could do. + +The sun had sunk; the night had all but fallen; the men were all on +board; Amyas in command of one canoe, Cary of the other. The Indians +were grouped on the bank, watching the party with their listless +stare, and with them the young guide, who preferred remaining among the +Indians, and was made supremely happy by the present of Spanish sword +and an English axe; while, in the midst, the old hermit, with tears in +his eyes, prayed God's blessing on them. + +“I owe to you, noble cavaliers, new peace, new labor, I may say, new +life. May God be with you, and teach you to use your gold and your +swords better than I used mine.” + +The adventurers waved their hands to him. + +“Give way, men,” cried Amyas; and as he spoke the paddles dashed into +the water, to a right English hurrah! which sent the birds fluttering +from their roosts, and was answered by the yell of a hundred monkeys, +and the distant roar of the jaguar. + +About twenty yards below, a wooded rock, some ten feet high, hung over +the stream. The river was not there more than fifteen yards broad; deep +near the rock, shallow on the farther side; and Amyas's canoe led the +way, within ten feet of the stone. + +As he passed, a dark figure leapt from the bushes on the edge, and +plunged heavily into the water close to the boat. All started. A jaguar? +No; he would not have missed so short a spring. What, then? A human +being? + +A head rose panting to the surface, and with a few strong strokes the +swimmer had clutched the gunwale. It was Ayacanora! + +“Go back!” shouted Amyas. “Go back, girl!” + +She uttered the same wild cry with which she had fled into the forest. + +“I will die, then!” and she threw up her arms. Another moment, and she +had sunk. + +To see her perish before his eyes! who could bear that? Her hands +alone were above the surface. Amyas caught convulsively at her in the +darkness, and seized her wrist. + +A yell rose from the negroes: a roar from the crew as from a cage of +lions. There was a rush and a swirl along the surface of the stream; and +“Caiman! caiman!” shouted twenty voices. + +Now, or never, for the strong arm! “To larboard, men, or over we go!” + cried Amyas, and with one huge heave he lifted the slender body upon +the gunwale. Her lower limbs were still in the water, when, within arm's +length, rose above the stream a huge muzzle. The lower jaw lay flat, the +upper reached as high as Amyas's head. He could see the long fangs +gleam white in the moonshine; he could see for one moment full down the +monstrous depths of that great gape, which would have crushed a buffalo. +Three inches, and no more, from that soft side, the snout surged up-- + +There was the gleam of an axe from above, a sharp ringing blow, and the +jaws came together with a clash which rang from bank to bank. He had +missed her! Swerving beneath the blow, his snout had passed beneath +her body, and smashed up against the side of the canoe, as the striker, +overbalanced, fell headlong overboard upon the monster's back. + +“Who is it?” + +“Yeo!” shouted a dozen. + +Man and beast went down together, and where they sank, the moonlight +shone on a great swirling eddy, while all held their breaths, and +Ayacanora cowered down into the bottom of the canoe, her proud spirit +utterly broken, for the first time, by the terror of that great need, +and by a bitter loss. For in the struggle, the holy trumpet, companion +of all her wanderings, had fallen from her bosom; and her fond hope of +bringing magic prosperity to her English friends had sunk with it to the +bottom of the stream. + +None heeded her; not even Amyas, round whose knees she clung, fawning +like a spaniel dog: for where was Yeo? + +Another swirl; a shout from the canoe abreast of them, and Yeo rose, +having dived clean under his own boat, and risen between the two. + +“Safe as yet, lads! Heave me a line, or he'll have me after all.” + +But ere the brute reappeared, the old man was safe on board. + +“The Lord has stood by me,” panted he, as he shot the water from +his ears. “We went down together: I knew the Indian trick, and being +uppermost, had my thumbs in his eyes before he could turn: but he +carried me down to the very mud. My breath was nigh gone, so I left go, +and struck up: but my toes tingled as I rose again, I'll warrant. There +the beggar is, looking for me, I declare!” + +And, true enough, there was the huge brute swimming slowly round and +round, in search of his lost victim. It was too dark to put an arrow +into his eye; so they paddled on, while Ayacanora crouched silently at +Amyas's feet. + +“Yeo!” asked he, in a low voice, “what shall we do with her?” + +“Why ask me, sir?” said the old man, as he had a very good right to ask. + +“Because, when one don't know oneself, one had best inquire of one's +elders. Besides, you saved her life at the risk of your own, and have a +right to a voice in the matter, if any one has, old friend.” + +“Then, my dear young captain, if the Lord puts a precious soul under +your care, don't you refuse to bear the burden He lays on you.” + +Amyas was silent awhile; while Ayacanora, who was evidently utterly +exhausted by the night's adventure, and probably by long wanderings, +watchings, and weepings which had gone before it, sank with her head +against his knee, fell fast asleep, and breathed as gently as a child. + +At last he rose in the canoe, and called Cary alongside. + +“Listen to me, gentlemen, and sailors all. You know that we have a +maiden on board here, by no choice of our own. Whether she will be a +blessing to us, God alone can tell: but she may turn to the greatest +curse which has befallen us ever since we came out over Bar three years +ago. Promise me one thing, or I put her ashore the next beach, and that +is, that you will treat her as if she were your own sister; and make an +agreement here and now, that if the maid comes to harm among us, the man +that is guilty shall hang for it by the neck till he's dead, even though +he be I, Captain Leigh, who speak to you. I'll hang you, as I am a +Christian; and I give you free leave to hang me.” + +“A very fair bargain,” quoth Cary, “and I for one will see it kept to. +Lads, we'll twine a double strong halter for the captain as we go down +along.” + +“I am not jesting, Will.” + +“I know it, good old lad,” said Cary, stretching out his own hand to him +across the water through the darkness, and giving him a hearty shake. “I +know it; and listen, men! So help me God! but I'll be the first to back +the Captain in being as good as his word, as I trust he never will need +to be.” + +“Amen!” said Brimblecombe. “Amen!” said Yeo; and many an honest voice +joined in that honest compact, and kept it too, like men. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +HOW THEY TOOK THE GREAT GALLEON + + “When captains courageous, whom death could not daunt, + Did march to the siege of the city of Gaunt, + They muster'd their soldiers by two and by three, + But the foremost in battle was Mary Ambree. + When brave Sir John Major was slain in her sight, + Who was her true lover, her joy and delight, + Because he was murther'd most treacherouslie, + Then vow'd to avenge him fair Mary Ambree.” + + Old Ballad, A. D. 1584. + +One more glance at the golden tropic sea, and the golden tropic +evenings, by the shore of New Granada, in the golden Spanish Main. + +The bay of Santa Marta is rippling before the land-breeze one sheet of +living flame. The mighty forests are sparkling with myriad fireflies. +The lazy mist which lounges round the inner hills shines golden in +the sunset rays; and, nineteen thousand feet aloft, the mighty peak of +Horqueta cleaves the abyss of air, rose-red against the dark-blue +vault of heaven. The rosy cone fades to a dull leaden hue; but only for +awhile. The stars flash out one by one, and Venus, like another moon, +tinges the eastern snows with gold, and sheds across the bay a long +yellow line of rippling light. Everywhere is glory and richness. What +wonder if the earth in that enchanted land be as rich to her inmost +depths as she is upon the surface? The heaven, the hills, the sea, are +one sparkling garland of jewels--what wonder if the soil be jewelled +also? if every watercourse and bank of earth be spangled with emeralds +and rubies, with grains of gold and feathered wreaths of native silver? + +So thought, in a poetic mood, the Bishop of Cartagena, as he sat in +the state cabin of that great galleon, The City of the True Cross, and +looked pensively out of the window towards the shore. The good man was +in a state of holy calm. His stout figure rested on one easy-chair, his +stout ankles on another, beside a table spread with oranges and limes, +guavas and pine-apples, and all the fruits of Ind. + +An Indian girl, bedizened with scarfs and gold chains, kept off the +flies with a fan of feathers; and by him, in a pail of ice from the +Horqueta (the gift of some pious Spanish lady, who had “spent” an Indian +or two in bringing down the precious offering), stood more than one +flask of virtuous wine of Alicant. But he was not so selfish, good man, +as to enjoy either ice or wine alone; Don Pedro, colonel of the soldiers +on board, Don Alverez, intendant of his Catholic majesty's customs at +Santa Marta, and Don Paul, captain of mariners in The City of the +True Cross, had, by his especial request, come to his assistance that +evening, and with two friars, who sat at the lower end of the table, +were doing their best to prevent the good man from taking too bitterly +to heart the present unsatisfactory state of his cathedral town, which +had just been sacked and burnt by an old friend of ours, Sir Francis +Drake. + +“We have been great sufferers, senors,--ah, great sufferers,” snuffled +the bishop, quoting Scripture, after the fashion of the day, glibly +enough, but often much too irreverently for me to repeat, so boldly were +his texts travestied, and so freely interlarded by grumblings at Tita +and the mosquitoes. “Great sufferers, truly; but there shall be a +remnant,--ah, a remnant like the shaking of the olive tree and the +gleaning grapes when the vintage is done.--Ah! Gold? Yes, I trust +Our Lady's mercies are not shut up, nor her arms shortened.--Look, +senors!”--and he pointed majestically out of the window. “It looks gold! +it smells of gold, as I may say, by a poetical license. Yea, the very +waves, as they ripple past us, sing of gold, gold, gold!” + +“It is a great privilege,” said the intendant, “to have comfort so +gracefully administered at once by a churchman and a scholar.” + +“A poet, too,” said Don Pedro. “You have no notion what sweet sonnets--” + +“Hush, Don Pedro--hush! If I, a mateless bird, have spent an idle hour +in teaching lovers how to sing, why, what of that? I am a churchman, +senors; but I am a man and I can feel, senors; I can sympathize; I can +palliate; I can excuse. Who knows better than I how much human nature +lurks in us fallen sons of Adam? Tita!” + +“Um?” said the trembling girl, with a true Indian grunt. + +“Fill his excellency the intendant's glass. Does much more treasure come +down, illustrious senor? May the poor of Mary hope for a few more crumbs +from their Mistress's table?” + +“Not a pezo, I fear. The big white cow up there”--and he pointed to the +Horqueta--“has been milked dry for this year.” + +“Ah!” And he looked up at the magnificent snow peak. “Only good to cool +wine with, eh? and as safe for the time being as Solomon's birds.” + +“Solomon's birds? Explain your recondite allusion, my lord.” + +“Enlighten us, your excellency, enlighten us.” + +“Ah! thereby hangs a tale. You know the holy birds who run up and down +on the Prado at Seville among the ladies' pretty feet,--eh? with hooked +noses and cinnamon crests? Of course. Hoopoes--Upupa, as the classics +have it. Well, senors, once on a time, the story goes, these hoopoes +all had golden crowns on their heads; and, senors, they took the +consequences--eh? But it befell on a day that all the birds and beasts +came to do homage at the court of his most Catholic majesty King +Solomon, and among them came these same hoopoes; and they had a little +request to make, the poor rogues. And what do you think it was? Why, +that King Solomon would pray for them that they might wear any sort of +crowns but these same golden ones; for--listen, Tita, and see the snare +of riches--mankind so hunted, and shot, and trapped, and snared them, +for the sake of these same golden crowns, that life was a burden to +bear. So Solomon prayed, and instead of golden crowns, they all received +crowns of feathers; and ever since, senors, they live as merrily as +crickets in an oven, and also have the honor of bearing the name of his +most Catholic majesty King Solomon. Tita! fill the senor commandant's +glass. Fray Gerundio, what are you whispering about down there, sir?” + +Fray Gerundio had merely commented to his brother on the bishop's story +of Solomon's birds with an-- + +“O si sic omnia!--would that all gold would turn to feathers in like +wise!” + +“Then, friend,” replied the other, a Dominican, like Gerundio, but of a +darker and sterner complexion, “corrupt human nature would within a week +discover some fresh bauble, for which to kill and be killed in vain.” + +“What is that, Fray Gerundio?” asked the bishop again. + +“I merely remarked, that it were well for the world if all mankind were +to put up the same prayer as the hoopoes.” + +“World, sir? What do you know about the world? Convert your Indians, +sir, if you please, and leave affairs of state to your superiors. You +will excuse him, senors” (turning to the Dons, and speaking in a lower +tone). “A very worthy and pious man, but a poor peasant's son; and +beside--you understand. A little wrong here; too much fasting and +watching, I fear, good man.” And the bishop touched his forehead +knowingly, to signify that Fray Gerundio's wits were in an +unsatisfactory state. + +The Fray heard and saw with a quiet smile. He was one of those excellent +men whom the cruelties of his countrymen had stirred up (as the +darkness, by mere contrast, makes the light more bright), as they did +Las Casas, Gasca, and many another noble name which is written in the +book of life, to deeds of love and pious daring worthy of any creed or +age. True Protestants, they protested, even before kings, against the +evil which lay nearest them, the sin which really beset them; true +liberals, they did not disdain to call the dark-skinned heathen their +brothers; and asserted in terms which astonish us, when we recollect the +age in which they were spoken, the inherent freedom of every being who +wore the flesh and blood which their Lord wore; true martyrs, they +bore witness of Christ, and received too often the rewards of such, +in slander and contempt. Such an one was Fray Gerundio; a poor, mean, +clumsy-tongued peasant's son, who never could put three sentences +together, save when he waxed eloquent, crucifix in hand, amid some +group of Indians or negroes. He was accustomed to such rebuffs as the +bishop's; he took them for what they were worth, and sipped his wine in +silence; while the talk went on. + +“They say,” observed the commandant, “that a very small Plate-fleet will +go to Spain this year.” + +“What else?” says the intendant. “What have we to send, in the name of +all saints, since these accursed English Lutherans have swept us out +clean?” + +“And if we had anything to send,” says the sea-captain, “what have we to +send it in? That fiend incarnate, Drake--” + +“Ah!” said his holiness; “spare my ears! Don Pedro, you will oblige my +weakness by not mentioning that man;--his name is Tartarean, unfit +for polite lips. Draco--a dragon--serpent--the emblem of Diabolus +himself--ah! And the guardian of the golden apples of the West, who +would fain devour our new Hercules, his most Catholic majesty. Deceived +Eve, too, with one of those same apples--a very evil name, senors--a +Tartarean name,--Tita!” + +“Um!” + +“Fill my glass.” + +“Nay,” cried the colonel, with a great oath, “this English fellow is of +another breed of serpent from that, I warrant.” + +“Your reason, senor; your reason?” + +“Because this one would have seen Eve at the bottom of the sea, before +he let her, or any one but himself, taste aught which looked like gold.” + +“Ah, ah!--very good! But--we laugh, valiant senors, while the Church +weeps. Alas for my sheep!” + +“And alas for their sheepfold! It will be four years before we can get +Cartagena rebuilt again. And as for the blockhouse, when we shall get +that rebuilt, Heaven only knows, while his majesty goes on draining the +Indies for his English Armada. The town is as naked now as an Indian's +back.” + +“Baptista Antonio, the surveyor, has sent home by me a relation to the +king, setting forth our defenceless state. But to read a relation and +to act on it are two cocks of very different hackles, bishop, as all +statesmen know. Heaven grant we may have orders by the next fleet to +fortify, or we shall be at the mercy of every English pirate!” + +“Ah, that blockhouse!” sighed the bishop. “That was indeed a villainous +trick. A hundred and ten thousand ducats for the ransom of the town! +After having burned and plundered the one-half--and having made me +dine with them too, ah! and sit between the--the serpent, and his +lieutenant-general--and drunk my health in my own private wine--wine +that I had from Xeres nine years ago, senors and offered, the shameless +heretics, to take me to England, if I would turn Lutheran, and find me a +wife, and make an honest man of me--ah! and then to demand fresh ransom +for the priory and the fort--perfidious!” + +“Well,” said the colonel, “they had the law of us, the cunning rascals, +for we forgot to mention anything but the town, in the agreement. Who +would have dreamed of such a fetch as that?” + +“So I told my good friend the prior, when he came to me to borrow the +thousand crowns. It was Heaven's will. Unexpected like the thunderbolt, +and to be borne as such. Every man must bear his own burden. How could I +lend him aught?” + +“Your holiness's money had been all carried off by them before,” said +the intendant, who knew, and none better, the exact contrary. + +“Just so--all my scanty savings! desolate in my lone old age. Ah, +senors, had we not had warning of the coming of these wretches from +my dear friend the Marquess of Santa Cruz, whom I remember daily in my +prayers, we had been like to them who go down quick into the pit. I too +might have saved a trifle, had I been minded: but in thinking too much +of others, I forgot myself, alas!” + +“Warning or none, we had no right to be beaten by such a handful,” said +the sea-captain; “and a shame it is, and a shame it will be, for many a +day to come.” + +“Do you mean to cast any slur, sir, upon the courage and conduct of his +Catholic majesty's soldiers?” asked the colonel. + +“I?--No; but we were foully beaten, and that behind our barricades too, +and there's the plain truth.” + +“Beaten, sir! Do you apply such a term to the fortunes of war? What more +could our governor have done? Had we not the ways filled with poisoned +caltrops, guarded by Indian archers, barred with butts full of earth, +raked with culverins and arquebuses? What familiar spirit had we, sir, +to tell us that these villains would come along the sea-beach, and not +by the high-road, like Christian men?” + +“Ah!” said the bishop, “it was by intuition diabolic, I doubt not, that +they took that way. Satanas must need help those who serve him; and for +my part, I can only attribute (I would the captain here had piety enough +to do so) the misfortune which occurred to art-magic. I believe these +men to have been possessed by all fiends whatsoever.” + +“Well, your holiness,” said the colonel, “there may have been devilry +in it; how else would men have dared to run right into the mouths of our +cannon, fire their shot against our very noses, and tumble harmless over +those huge butts of earth?” + +“Doubtless by force of the fiends which raged with them,” interposed the +bishop. + +“And then, with their blasphemous cries, leap upon us with sword and +pike? I myself saw that Lieutenant-General Carlisle hew down with one +stroke that noble young gentleman the ensign-bearer, your excellency's +sister's son's nephew, though he was armed cap-a-pie. Was not art-magic +here? And that most furious and blaspheming Lutheran Captain Young, I +saw how he caught our general by the head, after the illustrious Don +Alonzo had given him a grievous wound, threw him to the earth, and so +took him. Was not art-magic here?” + +“Well, I say,” said the captain, “if you are looking for art-magic, what +say you to their marching through the flank fire of our galleys, with +eleven pieces of ordnance, and two hundred shot playing on them, as if +it had been a mosquito swarm? Some said my men fired too high: but that +was the English rascals' doing, for they got down on the tide beach. +But, senor commandant, though Satan may have taught them that trick, was +it he that taught them to carry pikes a foot longer than yours?” + +“Ah, well,” said the bishop, “sacked are we; and San Domingo, as I hear, +in worse case than we are; and St. Augustine in Florida likewise; and +all that is left for a poor priest like me is to return to Spain, and +see whether the pious clemency of his majesty, and of the universal +Father, may not be willing to grant some small relief or bounty to the +poor of Mary--perhaps--(for who knows?) to translate to a sphere of +more peaceful labor one who is now old, senors, and weary with many +toils--Tita! fill our glasses. I have saved somewhat--as you may have +done, senors, from the general wreck; and for the flock, when I am no +more, illustrious senors, Heaven's mercies are infinite; new cities will +rise from the ashes of the old, new mines pour forth their treasures +into the sanctified laps of the faithful, and new Indians flock toward +the life-giving standard of the Cross, to put on the easy yoke and light +burden of the Church, and--” + +“And where shall I be then? Ah, where? Fain would I rest, and fain +depart. Tita! sling my hammock. Senors, you will excuse age and +infirmities. Fray Gerundio, go to bed!” + +And the Dons rose to depart, while the bishop went on maundering,-- + +“Farewell! Life is short. Ah! we shall meet in heaven at last. And there +are really no more pearls?” + +“Not a frail; nor gold either,” said the intendant. + +“Ah, well! Better a dinner of herbs where love is, than--Tita!” + +“My breviary--ah! Man's gratitude is short-lived, I had hoped--You have +seen nothing of the Senora Bovadilla?” + +“No.” + +“Ah! she promised:--but no matter--a little trifle as a keepsake--a gold +cross, or an emerald ring, or what not--I forget. And what have I to do +with worldly wealth!--Ah! Tita! bring me the casket.” + +And when his guests were gone, the old man began mumbling prayers out of +his breviary, and fingering over jewels and gold, with the dull greedy +eyes of covetous old age. + +“Ah!--it may buy the red hat yet!--Omnia Romae venalia! Put it by, Tita, +and do not look at it too much, child. Enter not into temptation. The +love of money is the root of all evil; and Heaven, in love for the +Indian, has made him poor in this world, that he may be rich in faith. +Ah!--Ugh!--So!” + +And the old miser clambered into his hammock. Tita drew the mosquito +net over him, wrapt another round her own head, and slept, or seemed to +sleep; for she coiled herself up upon the floor, and master and slave +soon snored a merry bass to the treble of the mosquitoes. + +It was long past midnight, and the moon was down. The sentinels, who had +tramped and challenged overhead till they thought their officers were +sound asleep, had slipped out of the unwholesome rays of the planet to +seek that health and peace which they considered their right, and slept +as soundly as the bishop's self. + +Two long lines glided out from behind the isolated rocks of the Morro +Grande, which bounded the bay some five hundred yards astern of the +galleon. They were almost invisible on the glittering surface of the +water, being perfectly white; and, had a sentinel been looking out, he +could only have descried them by the phosphorescent flashes along their +sides. + +Now the bishop had awoke, and turned himself over uneasily; for the wine +was dying out within him, and his shoulders had slipped down, and his +heels up, and his head ached! so he sat upright in his hammock, looked +out upon the bay, and called Tita. + +“Put another pillow under my head, child! What is that? a fish?” + +Tita looked. She did not think it was a fish: but she did not choose to +say so; for it might have produced an argument, and she had her reasons +for not keeping his holiness awake. + +The bishop looked again; settled that it must be a white whale, or +shark, or other monster of the deep; crossed himself, prayed for a safe +voyage, and snored once more. + +Presently the cabin-door opened gently, and the head of the senor +intendant appeared. + +Tita sat up; and then began crawling like a snake along the floor, among +the chairs and tables, by the light of the cabin lamp. + +“Is he asleep?” + +“Yes: but the casket is under his head.” + +“Curse him! How shall we take it?” + +“I brought him a fresh pillow half-an-hour ago; I hung his hammock wrong +on purpose that he might want one. I thought to slip the box away as I +did it; but the old ox nursed it in both hands all the while.” + +“What shall we do, in the name of all the fiends? She sails to-morrow +morning, and then all is lost.” + +Tita showed her white teeth, and touched the dagger which hung by the +intendant's side. + +“I dare not!” said the rascal, with a shudder. + +“I dare!” said she. “He whipt my mother, because she would not give me +up to him to be taught in his schools, when she went to the mines. And +she went to the mines, and died there in three months. I saw her go, +with a chain round her neck; but she never came back again. Yes; I dare +kill him! I will kill him! I will!” + +The senor felt his mind much relieved. He had no wish, of course, to +commit the murder himself; for he was a good Catholic, and feared the +devil. But Tita was an Indian, and her being lost did not matter so +much. Indians' souls were cheap, like their bodies. So he answered, “But +we shall be discovered!” + +“I will leap out of the window with the casket, and swim ashore. They +will never suspect you, and they will fancy I am drowned.” + +“The sharks may seize you, Tita. You had better give me the casket.” + +Tita smiled. “You would not like to lose that, eh? though you care +little about losing me. And yet you told me that you loved me!” + +“And I do love you, Tita! light of my eyes! life of my heart! I swear, +by all the saints, I love you. I will marry you, I swear I will--I will +swear on the crucifix, if you like!” + +“Swear, then, or I do not give you the casket,” said she, holding out +the little crucifix round her neck, and devouring him with the wild eyes +of passionate unreasoning tropic love. + +He swore, trembling, and deadly pale. + +“Give me your dagger.” + +“No, not mine. It may be found. I shall be suspected. What if my sheath +were seen to be empty?” + +“Your knife will do. His throat is soft enough.” + +And she glided stealthily as a cat toward the hammock, while her +cowardly companion stood shivering at the other end of the cabin, and +turned his back to her, that he might not see the deed. + +He stood waiting, one minute--two--five? Was it an hour, rather? A cold +sweat bathed his limbs; the blood beat so fiercely within his temples, +that his head rang again. Was that a death-bell tolling? No; it was the +pulses of his brain. Impossible, surely, a death-bell. Whence could it +come? + +There was a struggle--ah! she was about it now; a stifled cry--Ah! he +had dreaded that most of all, to hear the old man cry. Would there be +much blood? He hoped not. Another struggle, and Tita's voice, apparently +muffled, called for help. + +“I cannot help you. Mother of Mercies! I dare not help you!” hissed he. +“She-devil! you have begun it, and you must finish it yourself!” + +A heavy arm from behind clasped his throat. The bishop had broken loose +from her and seized him! Or was it his ghost? or a fiend come to drag +him down to the pit? And forgetting all but mere wild terror, he opened +his lips for a scream, which would have wakened every soul on board. But +a handkerchief was thrust into his mouth and in another minute he found +himself bound hand and foot, and laid upon the table by a gigantic +enemy. The cabin was full of armed men, two of whom were lashing up +the bishop in his hammock; two more had seized Tita; and more were +clambering up into the stern-gallery beyond, wild figures, with bright +blades and armor gleaming in the starlight. + +“Now, Will,” whispered the giant who had seized him, “forward and +clap the fore-hatches on; and shout Fire! with all your might. Girl! +murderess! your life is in my hands. Tell me where the commander sleeps, +and I pardon you.” + +Tita looked up at the huge speaker, and obeyed in silence. The intendant +heard him enter the colonel's cabin, and then a short scuffle, and +silence for a moment. + +But only for a moment; for already the alarm had been given, and mad +confusion reigned through every deck. Amyas (for it was none other) had +already gained the poop; the sentinels were gagged and bound; and every +half-naked wretch who came trembling up on deck in his shirt by the main +hatchway, calling one, “Fire!” another, “Wreck!” and another, “Treason!” + was hurled into the scuppers, and there secured. + +“Lower away that boat!” shouted Amyas in Spanish to his first batch of +prisoners. + +The men, unarmed and naked, could but obey. + +“Now then, jump in. Here, hand them to the gangway as they come up.” + +It was done; and as each appeared he was kicked to the scuppers, and +bundled down over the side. + +“She's full. Cast loose now and off with you. If you try to board again +we'll sink you.” + +“Fire! fire!” shouted Cary, forward. “Up the main hatchway for your +lives!” + +The ruse succeeded utterly; and before half-an-hour was over, all the +ship's boats which could be lowered were filled with Spaniards in their +shirts, getting ashore as best they could. + +“Here is a new sort of camisado,” quoth Cary. “The last Spanish one +I saw was at the sortie from Smerwick: but this is somewhat more +prosperous than that.” + +“Get the main and foresail up, Will!” said Amyas, “cut the cable; and we +will plume the quarry as we fly.” + +“Spoken like a good falconer. Heaven grant that this big woodcock may +carry a good trail inside!” + +“I'll warrant her for that,” said Jack Brimblecombe. “She floats so +low.” + +“Much of your build, too, Jack. By the by, where is the commander?” + +Alas! Don Pedro, forgotten in the bustle, had been lying on the deck +in his shirt, helplessly bound, exhausting that part of his vocabulary +which related to the unseen world. Which most discourteous act seemed at +first likely to be somewhat heavily avenged on Amyas; for as he spoke, a +couple of caliver-shots, fired from under the poop, passed “ping” “ping” + by his ears, and Cary clapped his hand to his side. + +“Hurt, Will?” + +“A pinch, old lad--Look out, or we are 'allen verloren' after all, as +the Flemings say.” + +And as he spoke, a rush forward on the poop drove two of their best men +down the ladder into the waist, where Amyas stood. + +“Killed?” asked he, as he picked one up, who had fallen head over heels. + +“Sound as a bell, sir: but they Gentiles has got hold of the firearms, +and set the captain free.” + +And rubbing the back of his head for a minute, he jumped up the ladder +again, shouting-- + +“Have at ye, idolatrous pagans! Have at ye, Satan's spawn!” + +Amyas jumped up after him, shouting to all hands to follow; for there +was no time to be lost. + +Out of the windows of the poop, which looked on the main-deck, a galling +fire had been opened, and he could not afford to lose men; for, as far +as he knew, the Spaniards left on board might still far outnumber the +English; so up he sprang on the poop, followed by a dozen men, and there +began a very heavy fight between two parties of valiant warriors, who +easily knew each other apart by the peculiar fashion of their armor. For +the Spaniards fought in their shirts, and in no other garments: but the +English in all other manner of garments, tag, rag, and bobtail; and yet +had never a shirt between them. + +The rest of the English made a rush, of course, to get upon the poop, +seeing that the Spaniards could not shoot them through the deck; but +the fire from the windows was so hot, that although they dodged behind +masts, spars, and every possible shelter, one or two dropped; and Jack +Brimblecombe and Yeo took on themselves to call a retreat, and with +about a dozen men, got back, and held a council of war. + +What was to be done? Their arquebuses were of little use; for the +Spaniards were behind a strong bulkhead. There were cannon: but where +was powder or shot? The boats, encouraged by the clamor on deck, were +paddling alongside again. Yeo rushed round and round, probing every gun +with his sword. + +“Here's a patararo loaded! Now for a match, lads.” + +Luckily one of the English had kept his match alight during the scuffle. + +“Thanks be! Help me to unship the gun--the mast's in the way here.” + +The patararo, or brass swivel, was unshipped. + +“Steady, lads, and keep it level, or you'll shake out the priming. Ship +it here; turn out that one, and heave it into that boat, if they come +alongside. Steady now--so! Rummage about, and find me a bolt or two, +a marlin-spike, anything. Quick, or the captain will be over-mastered +yet.” + +Missiles were found--odds and ends--and crammed into the swivel up to +the muzzle: and, in another minute, its “cargo of notions” was crashing +into the poop-windows, silencing the fire from thence effectually enough +for the time. + +“Now, then, a rush forward, and right in along the deck!” shouted Yeo; +and the whole party charged through the cabin-doors, which their shot +had burst open, and hewed their way from room to room. + +In the meanwhile, the Spaniards above had fought fiercely: but, in +spite of superior numbers, they had gradually given back before the +“demoniacal possession of those blasphemous heretics, who fought, +not like men, but like furies from the pit.” And by the time that +Brimblecombe and Yeo shouted from the stern-gallery below that the +quarter-deck was won, few on either side but had their shrewd scratch to +show. + +“Yield, senor!” shouted Amyas to the commander, who had been fighting +like a lion, back to back with the captain of mariners. + +“Never! You have bound me, and insulted me! Your blood or mine must wipe +out the stain!” + +And he rushed on Amyas. There was a few moments' heavy fence between +them; and then Amyas cut right at his head. But as he raised his arm, +the Spaniard's blade slipped along his ribs, and snapped against the +point of his shoulder-blade. An inch more to the left, and it would have +been through his heart. The blow fell, nevertheless, and the commandant +fell with it, stunned by the flat of the sword, but not wounded; +for Amyas's hand had turned, as he winced from his wound. But the +sea-captain, seeing Amyas stagger, sprang at him, and, seizing him by +the wrist, ere he could raise his sword again, shortened his weapon to +run him through. Amyas made a grasp at his wrist in return, but, between +his faintness and the darkness, missed it.--Another moment, and all +would have been over! + +A bright blade flashed close past Amyas's ear; the sea-captain's grasp +loosened, and he dropped a corpse; while over him, like an angry lioness +above her prey, stood Ayacanora, her long hair floating in the wind, her +dagger raised aloft, as she looked round, challenging all and every one +to approach. + +“Are you hurt?” panted she. + +“A scratch, child.--What do you do here? Go back, go back.” + +Ayacanora slipped back like a scolded child, and vanished in the +darkness. + +The battle was over. The Spaniards, seeing their commanders fall, laid +down their arms, and cried for quarter. It was given; the poor fellows +were tied together, two and two, and seated in a row on the deck; the +commandant, sorely bruised, yielded himself perforce; and the galleon +was taken. + +Amyas hurried forward to get the sails set. As he went down the +poop-ladder, there was some one sitting on the lowest step. + +“Who is here--wounded?” + +“I am not wounded,” said a woman's voice, low, and stifled with sobs. + +It was Ayacanora. She rose, and let him pass. He saw that her face was +bright with tears; but he hurried on, nevertheless. + +“Perhaps I did speak a little hastily to her, considering she saved my +life; but what a brimstone it is! Mary Ambree in a dark skin! Now then, +lads! Get the Santa Fe gold up out of the canoes, and then we will put +her head to the north-east, and away for Old England. Mr. Brimblecombe! +don't say that Eastward-ho don't bring luck this time.” + +It was impossible, till morning dawned, either to get matters into any +order, or to overhaul the prize they had taken; and many of the men were +so much exhausted that they fell fast asleep on the deck ere the surgeon +had time to dress their wounds. However, Amyas contrived, when once the +ship was leaping merrily, close-hauled against a fresh land-breeze, +to count his little flock, and found out of the forty-four but six +seriously wounded, and none killed. However, their working numbers were +now reduced to thirty-eight, beside the four negroes, a scanty crew +enough to take home such a ship to England. + +After awhile, up came Jack Brimblecombe on deck, a bottle in his hand. + +“Lads, a prize!” + +“Well, we know that already.” + +“Nay, but--look hither, and laid in ice, too, as I live, the luxurious +dogs! But I had to fight for it, I had. For when I went down into the +state cabin, after I had seen to the wounded; whom should I find loose +but that Indian lass, who had just unbound the fellow you caught--” + +“Ah! those two, I believe, were going to murder the old man in the +hammock, if we had not come in the nick of time. What have you done with +them?” + +“Why, the Spaniard ran when he saw me, and got into a cabin; but the +woman, instead of running, came at me with a knife, and chased me round +the table like a very cat-a-mountain. So I ducked under the old man's +hammock, and out into the gallery; and when I thought the coast was +clear, back again I came, and stumbled over this. So I just picked it +up, and ran on deck with my tail between my legs, for I expected +verily to have the black woman's knife between my ribs out of some dark +corner.” + +“Well done, Jack! Let's have the wine, nevertheless, and then down to +set a guard on the cabin doors for fear of plundering.” + +“Better go down, and see that nothing is thrown overboard by Spaniards. +As for plundering, I will settle that.” + +And Amyas walked forward among the men. + +“Muster the men, boatswain, and count them.” + +“All here, sir, but the six poor fellows who are laid forward.” + +“Now, my men,” said Amyas, “for three years you and I have wandered +on the face of the earth, seeking our fortune, and we have found it at +last, thanks be to God! Now, what was our promise and vow which we made +to God beneath the tree of Guayra, if He should grant us good fortune, +and bring us home again with a prize? Was it not, that the dead should +share with the living; and that every man's portion, if he fell, should +go to his widow or his orphans, or if he had none, to his parents?” + +“It was, sir,” said Yeo, “and I trust that the Lord will give these men +grace to keep their vow. They have seen enough of His providences by +this time to fear Him.” + +“I doubt them not; but I remind them of it. The Lord has put into our +hands a rich prize; and what with the gold which we have already, we are +well paid for all our labors. Let us thank Him with fervent hearts +as soon as the sun rises; and in the meanwhile, remember all, that +whosoever plunders on his private account, robs not the adventurers +merely, but the orphan and the widow, which is to rob God; and makes +himself partaker of Achan's curse, who hid the wedge of gold, and +brought down God's anger on the whole army of Israel. For me, lest you +should think me covetous, I could claim my brother's share; but I hereby +give it up freely into the common stock, for the use of the whole ship's +crew, who have stood by me through weal and woe, as men never stood +before, as I believe, by any captain. So, now to prayers, lads, and then +to eat our breakfast.” + +So, to the Spaniards' surprise (who most of them believed that the +English were atheists), to prayers they went. + +After which Brimblecombe contrived to inspire the black cook and the +Portuguese steward with such energy that, by seven o'clock, the latter +worthy appeared on deck, and, with profound reverences, announced to +“The most excellent and heroical Senor Adelantado Captain Englishman,” + that breakfast was ready in the state-cabin. + +“You will do us the honor of accompanying us as our guest, sir, or our +host, if you prefer the title,” said Amyas to the commandant, who stood +by. + +“Pardon, senor: but honor forbids me to eat with one who has offered to +me the indelible insult of bonds.” + +“Oh!” said Amyas, taking off his hat, “then pray accept on the spot my +humble apologies for all which has passed, and my assurances that the +indignities which you have unfortunately endured, were owing altogether +to the necessities of war, and not to any wish to hurt the feelings of +so valiant a soldier and gentleman.” + +“It is enough, senor,” said the commandant, bowing and shrugging his +shoulders--for, indeed, he too was very hungry; while Cary whispered to +Amyas-- + +“You will make a courtier, yet, old lad.” + +“I am not in jesting humor, Will: my mind sadly misgives me that we +shall hear black news, and have, perhaps, to do a black deed yet, on +board here. Senor, I follow you.” + +So they went down, and found the bishop, who was by this time unbound, +seated in a corner of the cabin, his hands fallen on his knees, his eyes +staring on vacancy, while the two priests stood as close against the +wall as they could squeeze themselves, keeping up a ceaseless mutter of +prayers. + +“Your holiness will breakfast with us, of course; and these two frocked +gentlemen likewise. I see no reason for refusing them all hospitality, +as yet.” + +There was a marked emphasis on the last two words, which made both monks +wince. + +“Our chaplain will attend to you, gentlemen. His lordship the bishop +will do me the honor of sitting next to me.” + +The bishop seemed to revive slowly as he snuffed the savory steam; +and at last, rising mechanically, subsided into the chair which Amyas +offered him on his left, while the commandant sat on his right. + +“A little of this kid, my lord? No--ah--Friday, I recollect. Some of +that turtle-fin, then. Will, serve his lordship; pass the cassava-bread +up, Jack! Senor commandant! a glass of wine? You need it after your +valiant toils. To the health of all brave soldiers--and a toast from +your own Spanish proverb, 'To-day to me, tomorrow to thee!'” + +“I drink it, brave senor. Your courtesy shows you the worthy countryman +of General Drake, and his brave lieutenant.” + +“Drake! Did you know him, senor?” asked all the Englishmen at once. + +“Too well, too well--” and he would have continued; but the bishop burst +out-- + +“Ah, senor commandant! that name again! Have you no mercy? To sit +between another pair of--, and my own wine, too! Ugh, ugh!” + +The old gentleman, whose mouth had been full of turtle the whole time, +burst into a violent fit of coughing, and was only saved from apoplexy +by Cary's patting him on the back. + +“Ugh, ugh! The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel, and their +precious balms. Ah, senor lieutenant Englishman! May I ask you to pass +those limes?--Ah! what is turtle without lime?--Even as a fat old man +without money! Nudus intravi, nudus exeo--ah!” + +“But what of Drake?” + +“Do you not know, sir, that he and his fleet, only last year, swept the +whole of this coast, and took, with shame I confess it, Cartagena, San +Domingo, St. Augustine, and--I see you are too courteous, senors, to +express before me what you have a right to feel. But whence come you, +sir? From the skies, or the depth of the sea?” + +“Art-magic, art-magic!” moaned the bishop. + +“Your holiness! It is scarcely prudent to speak thus here,” said the +commandant, who was nevertheless much of the same opinion. + +“Why, you said so yourself, last night, senor, about the taking of +Cartagena.” + +The commandant blushed, and stammered out somewhat--“That it was +excusable in him, if he had said, in jest, that so prodigious and +curious a valor had not sprung from mortal source.” + +“No more it did, senor,” said Jack Brimblecombe, stoutly: “but from Him +who taught our 'hands to war, and our fingers to fight.'” + +The commandant bowed stiffly. “You will excuse me, sir preacher: but I +am a Catholic, and hold the cause of my king to be alone the cause of +Heaven. But, senor captain, how came you thither, if I may ask? That you +needed no art-magic after you came on board, I, alas! can testify but +too well: but what spirit--whether good or evil, I ask not--brought you +on board, and whence? Where is your ship? I thought that all Drake's +squadron had left six months ago.” + +“Our ship, senor, has lain this three years rotting on the coast near +Cape Codera.” + +“Ah! we heard of that bold adventure--but we thought you all lost in the +interior.” + +“You did? Can you tell me, then, where the senor governor of La Guayra +may be now?” + +“The Senor Don Guzman de Soto,” said the commandant, in a somewhat +constrained tone, “is said to be at present in Spain, having thrown up +his office in consequence of domestic matters, of which I have not the +honor of knowing anything.” + +Amyas longed to ask more: but he knew that the well-bred Spaniard would +tell him nothing which concerned another man's wife; and went on. + +“What befell us after, I tell you frankly.” + +And Amyas told his story, from the landing at Guayra to the passage down +the Magdalena. The commandant lifted up his hands. + +“Were it not forbidden to me, as a Catholic, most invincible senor, I +should say that the Divine protection has indeed--” + +“Ah,” said one of the friars, “that you could be brought, senors, to +render thanks for your miraculous preservation to her to whom alone it +is due, Mary, the fount of mercies!” + +“We have done well enough without her as yet,” said Amyas, bluntly. + +“The Lord raised up Nebuchadnezzar of old to punish the sins of the +Jewish Church; and He has raised up these men to punish ours!” said Fray +Gerundio. + +“But Nebuchadnezzar fell, and so may they,” growled the other to +himself. Jack overheard him. + +“I say, my lord bishop,” called he from the other end of the table. “It +is our English custom to let our guests be as rude as they like; but +perhaps your lordship will hint to these two friars, that if they wish +to keep whole skins, they will keep civil tongues.” + +“Be silent, asses! mules!” shouted the bishop, whose spirits were +improving over the wine, “who are you, that you cannot eat dirt as well +as your betters?” + +“Well spoken, my lord. Here's the health of our saintly and venerable +guest,” said Cary: while the commandant whispered to Amyas, “Fat old +tyrant! I hope you have found his money--for I am sure he has some on +board, and I should be loath that you lost the advantage of it.” + +“I shall have to say a few words to you about that money this morning, +commandant: by the by, they had better be said now. My lord bishop, do +you know that had we not taken this ship when we did, you had lost not +merely money, as you have now, but life itself?” + +“Money? I had none to lose! Life?--what do you mean?” asked the bishop, +turning very pale. + +“This, sir. That it ill befits one to lie, whose throat has been saved +from the assassin's knife but four hours since. When we entered the +stern-gallery, we found two persons, now on board this ship, in the very +act, sir, and article, of cutting your sinful throat, that they might +rob you of the casket which lay beneath your pillow. A moment more, and +you were dead. We seized and bound them, and so saved your life. Is that +plain, sir?” + +The bishop looked steadfastly and stupidly into Amyas's face, heaved a +deep sigh, and gradually sank back in his chair, dropping the glass from +his hand. + +“He is in a fit! Call in the surgeon! Run!” and up jumped kind-hearted +Jack, and brought in the surgeon of the galleon. + +“Is this possible, senor?” asked the commandant. + +“It is true. Door, there! Evans! go and bring in that rascal whom we +left bound in his cabin!” + +Evans went, and the commandant continued-- + +“But the stern-gallery? How, in the name of all witches and miracles, +came your valor thither?” + +“Simply enough, and owing neither to witch nor miracle. The night before +last we passed the mouth of the bay in our two canoes, which we had +lashed together after the fashion I had seen in the Moluccas, to keep +them afloat in the surf. We had scraped the canoes bright the day +before, and rubbed them with white clay, that they might be invisible at +night; and so we got safely to the Morro Grande, passing within half a +mile of your ship.” + +“Oh! my scoundrels of sentinels!” + +“We landed at the back of the Morro, and lay there all day, being +purposed to do that which, with your pardon, we have done. We took our +sails of Indian cloth, whitened them likewise with clay which we had +brought with us from the river (expecting to find a Spanish ship as we +went along the coast, and determined to attempt her, or die with honor), +and laid them over us on the canoes, paddling from underneath them. So +that, had your sentinels been awake, they would have hardly made us +out, till we were close on board. We had provided ourselves, instead +of ladders, with bamboos rigged with cross-pieces, and a hook of strong +wood at the top of each; they hang at your stern-gallery now. And the +rest of the tale I need not tell you.” + +The commandant rose in his courtly Spanish way,-- + +“Your admirable story, senor, proves to me how truly your nation, while +it has yet, and I trust will ever have, to dispute the palm of valor +with our own, is famed throughout the world for ingenuity, and for +daring beyond that of mortal man. You have succeeded, valiant captain, +because you have deserved to succeed; and it is no shame to me to +succumb to enemies who have united the cunning of the serpent with the +valor of the lion. Senor, I feel as proud of becoming your guest as I +should have been proud, under a happier star, of becoming your host.” + +“You are, like your nation, only too generous, senor. But what noise is +that outside? Cary, go and see.” + +But ere Cary could reach the door, it was opened; and Evans presented +himself with a terrified face. + +“Here's villainy, sir! The Don's murdered, and cold; the Indian lass +fled; and as we searched the ship for her, we found an Englishwoman, as +I'm a sinful man!--and a shocking sight she is to see!” + +“An Englishwoman?” cried all three, springing forward. + +“Bring her in!” said Amyas, turning very pale; and as he spoke, Yeo and +another led into the cabin a figure scarcely human. + +An elderly woman, dressed in the yellow “San Benito” of the Inquisition, +with ragged gray locks hanging about a countenance distorted by +suffering and shrunk by famine. Painfully, as one unaccustomed to the +light, she peered and blinked round her. Her fallen lip gave her a +half-idiotic expression; and yet there was an uneasy twinkle in the eye, +as of boundless terror and suspicion. She lifted up her fettered wrist +to shade her face; and as she did so, disclosed a line of fearful scars +upon her skinny arm. + +“Look there, sirs!” said Yeo, pointing to them with a stern smile. +“Here's some of these Popish gentry's handiwork. I know well enough how +those marks came;” and he pointed to the similar scars on his own wrist. + +The commandant, as well as the Englishmen, recoiled with horror. + +“Holy Virgin! what wretch is this on board my ship? Bishop, is this the +prisoner whom you sent on board?” + +The bishop, who had been slowly recovering his senses, looked at her a +moment; and then thrusting his chair back, crossed himself, and almost +screamed, “Malefica! Malefica! Who brought her here? Turn her away, +gentlemen; turn her eye away; she will bewitch, fascinate”--and he began +muttering prayers. + +Amyas seized him by the shoulder, and shook him on to his legs. + +“Swine! who is this? Wake up, coward, and tell me, or I will cut you +piecemeal!” + +But ere the bishop could answer, the woman uttered a wild shriek, and +pointing to the taller of the two monks, cowered behind Yeo. + +“He here?” cried she, in broken Spanish. “Take me away! I will tell you +no more. I have told you all, and lies enough beside. Oh! why is he come +again? Did they not say that I should have no more torments?” + +The monk turned pale: but like a wild beast at bay, glared firmly round +on the whole company; and then, fixing his dark eyes full on the woman, +he bade her be silent so sternly, that she shrank down like a beaten +hound. + +“Silence, dog!” said Will Cary, whose blood was up, and followed his +words with a blow on the monk's mouth, which silenced him effectually. + +“Don't be afraid, good woman, but speak English. We are all English +here, and Protestants too. Tell us what they have done for you.” + +“Another trap! another trap!” cried she, in a strong Devonshire accent. +“You be no English! You want to make me lie again, and then torment me. +Oh! wretched, wretched that I am!” cried she, bursting into tears. “Whom +should I trust? Not myself: no, nor God; for I have denied Him! O Lord! +O Lord!” + +Amyas stood silent with fear and horror; some instinct told him that he +was on the point of hearing news for which he feared to ask. But Jack +spoke-- + +“My dear soul! my dear soul! don't you be afraid; and the Lord will +stand by you, if you will but tell the truth. We are all Englishmen, and +men of Devon, as you seem to be by your speech; and this ship is ours; +and the pope himself sha'n't touch you.” + +“Devon?” she said doubtingly; “Devon! Whence, then?” + +“Bideford men. This is Mr. Will Cary, to Clovelly. If you are a Devon +woman, you've heard tell of the Carys, to be sure.” + +The woman made a rush forward, and threw her fettered arms round Will's +neck,-- + +“Oh, Mr. Cary, my dear life! Mr. Cary! and so you be! Oh, dear soul +alive! but you're burnt so brown, and I be 'most blind with misery. Oh, +who ever sent you here, my dear Mr. Will, then, to save a poor wretch +from the pit?” + +“Who on earth are you?” + +“Lucy Passmore, the white witch to Welcombe. Don't you mind Lucy +Passmore, as charmed your warts for you when you was a boy?” + +“Lucy Passmore!” almost shrieked all three friends. “She that went off +with--” + +“Yes! she that sold her own soul, and persuaded that dear saint to +sell hers; she that did the devil's work, and has taken the devil's +wages;--after this fashion!” and she held up her scarred wrists wildly. + +“Where is Dona de--Rose Salterne?” shouted Will and Jack. + +“Where is my brother Frank?” shouted Amyas. + +“Dead, dead, dead!” + +“I knew it,” said Amyas, sitting down again calmly. + +“How did she die?” + +“The Inquisition--he!” pointing to the monk. “Ask him--he betrayed her +to her death. And ask him!” pointing to the bishop; “he sat by her and +saw her die.” + +“Woman, you rave!” said the bishop, getting up with a terrified air, and +moving as far as possible from Amyas. + +“How did my brother die, Lucy?” asked Amyas, still calmly. + +“Who be you, sir?” + +A gleam of hope flashed across Amyas--she had not answered his question. + +“I am Amyas Leigh of Burrough. Do you know aught of my brother Frank, +who was lost at La Guayra?” + +“Mr. Amyas! Heaven forgive me that I did not know the bigness of you. +Your brother, sir, died like a gentleman as he was.” + +“But how?” gasped Amyas. + +“Burned with her, sir!” + +“Is this true, sir?” said Amyas, turning to the bishop, with a very +quiet voice. + +“I, sir?” stammered he, in panting haste. “I had nothing to do--I was +compelled in my office of bishop to be an unwilling spectator--the +secular arm, sir; I could not interfere with that--any more than I can +with the Holy Office. I do not belong to it--ask that gentleman--sir! +Saints and angels, sir! what are you going to do?” shrieked he, as Amyas +laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder, and began to lead him towards the +door. + +“Hang you!” said Amyas. “If I had been a Spaniard and a priest like +yourself, I should have burnt you alive.” + +“Hang me?” shrieked the wretched old Balaam; and burst into abject howls +for mercy. + +“Take the dark monk, Yeo, and hang him too. Lucy Passmore, do you know +that fellow also?” + +“No, sir,” said Lucy. + +“Lucky for you, Fray Gerundio,” said Will Cary; while the good friar +hid his face in his hands, and burst into tears. Lucky it was for +him, indeed; for he had been a pitying spectator of the tragedy. “Ah!” + thought he, “if life in this mad and sinful world be a reward, perhaps +this escape is vouchsafed to me for having pleaded the cause of the poor +Indian!” + +But the bishop shrieked on. + +“Oh! not yet. An hour, only an hour! I am not fit to die.” + +“That is no concern of mine,” said Amyas. “I only know that you are not +fit to live.” + +“Let us at least make our peace with God,” said the dark monk. + +“Hound! if your saints can really smuggle you up the back-stairs +to heaven, they will do it without five minutes' more coaxing and +flattering.” + +Fray Gerundio and the condemned man alike stopped their ears at the +blasphemy. + +“Oh, Fray Gerundio!” screamed the bishop, “pray for me. I have treated +you like a beast. Oh, Fray, Fray!” + +“Oh, my lord! my lord!” said the good man, as with tears streaming +down his face he followed his shrieking and struggling diocesan up the +stairs, “who am I? Ask no pardon of me. Ask pardon of God for all your +sins against the poor innocent savages, when you saw your harmless sheep +butchered year after year, and yet never lifted up your voice to save +the flock which God had committed to you. Oh, confess that, my lord! +confess it ere it be too late!” + +“I will confess all about the Indians, and the gold, and Tita too, Fray; +peccavi, peccavi--only five minutes, senors, five little minutes' grace, +while I confess to the good Fray!”--and he grovelled on the deck. + +“I will have no such mummery where I command,” said Amyas, sternly. “I +will be no accomplice in cheating Satan of his due.” + +“If you will confess,” said Brimblecombe, whose heart was melting fast, +“confess to the Lord, and He will forgive you. Even at the last moment +mercy is open. Is it not, Fray Gerundio?” + +“It is, senor; it is, my lord,” said Gerundio; but the bishop only +clasped his hands over his head. + +“Then I am undone! All my money is stolen! Not a farthing left to buy +masses for my poor soul! And no absolution, no viaticum, nor anything! I +die like a dog and am damned!” + +“Clear away that running rigging!” said Amyas, while the dark Dominican +stood perfectly collected, with something of a smile of pity at +the miserable bishop. A man accustomed to cruelty, and firm in his +fanaticism, he was as ready to endure suffering as to inflict it; +repeating to himself the necessary prayers, he called Fray Gerundio to +witness that he died, however unworthy, a martyr, in charity with all +men, and in the communion of the Holy Catholic Church; and then, as +he fitted the cord to his own neck, gave Fray Gerundio various petty +commissions about his sister and her children, and a little vineyard far +away upon the sunny slopes of Castile; and so died, with a “Domine, in +manus tuas,” like a valiant man of Spain. + +Amyas stood long in solemn silence, watching the two corpses dangling +above his head. At last he drew a long breath, as if a load was taken +off his heart. + +Suddenly he looked round to his men, who were watching eagerly to know +what he would have done next. + +“Hearken to me, my masters all, and may God hearken too, and do so to +me, and more also, if, as long as I have eyes to see a Spaniard, and +hands to hew him down, I do any other thing than hunt down that accursed +nation day and night, and avenge all the innocent blood which has been +shed by them since the day in which King Ferdinand drove out the Moors!” + +“Amen!” said Salvation Yeo. “I need not to swear that oath, for I have +sworn it long ago, and kept it. Will your honor have us kill the rest of +the idolaters?” + +“God forbid!” said Cary. “You would not do that, Amyas?” + +“No; we will spare them. God has shown us a great mercy this day, and we +must be merciful in it. We will land them at Cabo Velo. But henceforth +till I die no quarter to a Spaniard.” + +“Amen!” said Yeo. + +Amyas's whole countenance had changed in the last half-hour. He seemed +to have grown years older. His brow was wrinkled, his lip compressed, +his eyes full of a terrible stony calm, as of one who had formed a great +and dreadful purpose, and yet for that very reason could afford to be +quiet under the burden of it, even cheerful; and when he returned to the +cabin he bowed courteously to the commandant, begged pardon of him +for having played the host so ill, and entreated him to finish his +breakfast. + +“But, senor--is it possible? Is his holiness dead?” + +“He is hanged and dead, senor. I would have hanged, could I have caught +them, every living thing which was present at my brother's death, even +to the very flies upon the wall. No more words, senor; your conscience +tells you that I am just.” + +“Senor,” said the commandant--“one word--I trust there are no +listeners--none of my crew, I mean; but I must exculpate myself in your +eyes.” + +“Walk out, then, into the gallery with me.” + +“To tell you the truth, senor--I trust in Heaven no one overhears.--You +are just. This Inquisition is the curse of us, the weight which is +crushing out the very life of Spain. No man dares speak. No man dares +trust his neighbor, no, not his child, or the wife of his bosom. It +avails nothing to be a good Catholic, as I trust I am,” and he crossed +himself, “when any villain whom you may offend, any unnatural son or +wife who wishes to be rid of you, has but to hint heresy against you, +and you vanish into the Holy Office--and then God have mercy on you, +for man has none. Noble ladies of my family, sir, have vanished +thither, carried off by night, we know not why; we dare not ask why. To +expostulate, even to inquire, would have been to share their fate. There +is one now, senor--Heaven alone knows whether she is alive or dead!--It +was nine years since, and we have never heard; and we shall never hear.” + +And the commandant's face worked frightfully. + +“She was my sister, senor!” + +“Heavens! sir, and have you not avenged her?” + +“On churchmen, senor, and I a Catholic? To be burned at the stake in +this life, and after that to all eternity beside? Even a Spaniard +dare not face that. Beside, sir, the mob like this Inquisition, and an +Auto-da-fe is even better sport to them than a bull-fight. They would be +the first to tear a man in pieces who dare touch an Inquisitor. Sir, +may all the saints in heaven obtain me forgiveness for my blasphemy, but +when I saw you just now fearing those churchmen no more than you feared +me, I longed, sinner that I am, to be a heretic like you.” + +“It will not take long to make a brave and wise gentleman who has +suffered such things as you have, a heretic, as you call it--a free +Christian man, as we call it.” + +“Tempt me not, sir!” said the poor man, crossing himself fervently. “Let +us say no more. Obedience is my duty; and for the rest the Church must +decide, according to her infallible authority--for I am a good Catholic, +senor, the best of Catholics, though a great sinner.--I trust no one has +overheard us!” + +Amyas left him with a smile of pity, and went to look for Lucy Passmore, +whom the sailors were nursing and feeding, while Ayacanora watched them +with a puzzled face. + +“I will talk to you when you are better, Lucy,” said he, taking her +hand. “Now you must eat and drink, and forget all among us lads of +Devon.” + +“Oh, dear blessed sir, and you will send Sir John to pray with me? For +I turned, sir, I turned: but I could not help it--I could not abear the +torments: but she bore them, sweet angel--and more than I did. Oh, dear +me!” + +“Lucy, I am not fit now to hear more. You shall tell me all to-morrow;” + and he turned away. + +“Why do you take her hand?” said Ayacanora, half-scornfully. “She is +old, and ugly, and dirty.” + +“She is an Englishwoman, child, and a martyr, poor thing; and I would +nurse her as I would my own mother.” + +“Why don't you make me an Englishwoman, and a martyr? I could learn how +to do anything that that old hag could do!” + +“Instead of calling her names, go and tend her; that would be much +fitter work for a woman than fighting among men.” + +Ayacanora darted from him, thrust the sailors aside, and took possession +of Lucy Passmore. + +“Where shall I put her?” asked she of Amyas, without looking up. + +“In the best cabin; and let her be served like a queen, lads.” + +“No one shall touch her but me;” and taking up the withered frame in her +arms, as if it were a doll, Ayacanora walked off with her in triumph, +telling the men to go and mind the ship. + +“The girl is mad,” said one. + +“Mad or not, she has an eye to our captain,” said another. + +“And where's the man that would behave to the poor wild thing as he +does?” + +“Sir Francis Drake would, from whom he got his lesson. Do you mind his +putting the negro lass ashore after he found out about--” + +“Hush! Bygones be bygones, and those that did it are in their graves +long ago. But it was too hard of him on the poor thing.” + +“If he had not got rid of her, there would have been more throats than +one cut about the lass, that's all I know,” said another; “and so there +would have been about this one before now, if the captain wasn't a born +angel out of heaven, and the lieutenant no less.” + +“Well, I suppose we may get a whet by now. I wonder if these Dons have +any beer aboard.” + +“Naught but grape vinegar, which fools call wine, I'll warrant.” + +“There was better than vinegar on the table in there just now.” + +“Ah,” said one grumbler of true English breed, “but that's not for poor +fellows like we.” + +“Don't lie, Tom Evans; you never were given that way yet, and I don't +think the trade will suit a good fellow like you.” + +The whole party stared; for the speaker of these words was none other +than Amyas himself, who had rejoined them, a bottle in each hand. + +“No, Tom Evans. It has been share and share alike for three years, +and bravely you have all held up, and share alike it shall be now, and +here's the handsel of it. We'll serve out the good wine fairly all round +as long as it lasts, and then take to the bad: but mind you don't get +drunk, my sons, for we are much too short of hands to have any stout +fellows lying about the scuppers.” + +But what was the story of the intendant's being murdered? Brimblecombe +had seen him run into a neighboring cabin; and when the door of it +was opened, there was the culprit, but dead and cold, with a deep +knife-wound in his side. Who could have done the deed? It must have been +Tita, whom Brimblecombe had seen loose, and trying to free her lover. + +The ship was searched from stem to stern: but no Tita. The mystery was +never explained. That she had leapt overboard, and tried to swim ashore, +none doubted: but whether she had reached it, who could tell? One thing +was strange; that not only had she carried off no treasure with her, +but that the gold ornaments which she had worn the night before, lay +together in a heap on the table, close by the murdered man. Had she +wished to rid herself of everything which had belonged to her tyrants? + +The commandant heard the whole story thoughtfully. + +“Wretched man!” said he, “and he has a wife and children in Seville.” + +“A wife and children?” said Amyas; “and I heard him promise marriage to +the Indian girl.” + +That was the only hint which gave a reason for his death. What if, +in the terror of discovery and capture, the scoundrel had dropped any +self-condemning words about his marriage, any prayer for those whom he +had left behind, and the Indian had overheard them? It might be so; at +least sin had brought its own punishment. + +And so that wild night and day subsided. The prisoners were kindly used +enough; for the Englishman, free from any petty love of tormenting, +knows no mean between killing a foe outright, and treating him as a +brother; and when, two days afterwards, they were sent ashore in the +canoes off Cabo Velo, captives and captors shook hands all round; and +Amyas, after returning the commandant his sword, and presenting him with +a case of the bishop's wine, bowed him courteously over the side. + +“I trust that you will pay us another visit, valiant senor capitan,” + said the Spaniard, bowing and smiling. + +“I should most gladly accept your invitation, illustrious senor +commandant; but as I have vowed henceforth, whenever I shall meet a +Spaniard, neither to give nor take quarter, I trust that our paths to +glory may lie in different directions.” + +The commandant shrugged his shoulders; the ship was put again before the +wind, and as the shores of the Main faded lower and dimmer behind her, +a mighty cheer broke from all on board; and for once the cry from every +mouth was Eastward-ho! + +Scrap by scrap, as weakness and confusion of intellect permitted her, +Lucy Passmore told her story. It was a simple one after all, and Amyas +might almost have guessed it for himself. Rose had not yielded to the +Spaniard without a struggle. He had visited her two or three times at +Lucy's house (how he found out Lucy's existence she herself could never +tell, unless from the Jesuits) before she agreed to go with him. He had +gained Lucy to his side by huge promises of Indian gold; and, in fine, +they had gone to Lundy, where the lovers were married by a priest, who +was none other, Lucy would swear, than the shorter and stouter of the +two who had carried off her husband and his boat--in a word, Father +Parsons. + +Amyas gnashed his teeth at the thought that he had had Parsons in his +power at Brenttor down, and let him go. It was a fresh proof to him that +Heaven's vengeance was upon him for letting one of its enemies escape. +Though what good to Rose or Frank the hanging of Parsons would have +been, I, for my part, cannot see. + +But when had Eustace been at Lundy? Lucy could throw no light on that +matter. It was evidently some by-thread in the huge spider's web of +Jesuit intrigue, which was, perhaps, not worth knowing after all. + +They sailed from Lundy in a Portugal ship, were at Lisbon a few days +(during which Rose and Lucy remained on board), and then away for the +West Indies; while all went merry as a marriage bell. “Sir, he would +have kissed the dust off her dear feet, till that evil eye of Mr. +Eustace's came, no one knew how or whence.” And, from that time, all +went wrong. Eustace got power over Don Guzman, whether by threatening +that the marriage should be dissolved, whether by working on his +superstitious scruples about leaving his wife still a heretic, or +whether (and this last Lucy much suspected) by insinuations that her +heart was still at home in England, and that she was longing for Amyas +and his ship to come and take her home again; the house soon became a +den of misery, and Eustace the presiding evil genius. Don Guzman had +even commanded him to leave it--and he went; but, somehow, within a week +he was there again, in greater favor than ever. Then came preparations +to meet the English, and high words about it between Don Guzman and +Rose; till a few days before Amyas's arrival, the Don had dashed out +of the house in a fury, saying openly that she preferred these Lutheran +dogs to him, and that he would have their hearts' blood first, and hers +after. + +The rest was soon told. Amyas knew but too much of it already. The very +morning after he had gone up to the villa, Lucy and her mistress were +taken (they knew not by whom) down to the quay, in the name of the Holy +Office, and shipped off to Cartagena. + +There they were examined, and confronted on a charge of witchcraft, +which the wretched Lucy could not well deny. She was tortured to +make her inculpate Rose; and what she said, or did not say, under the +torture, the poor wretch could never tell. She recanted, and became a +Romanist; Rose remained firm. Three weeks afterwards, they were brought +out to an Auto-da-fe; and there, for the first time, Lucy saw Frank +walking, dressed in a San Benito, in that ghastly procession. Lucy was +adjudged to receive publicly two hundred stripes, and to be sent to +“The Holy House” at Seville to perpetual prison. Frank and Rose, with +a renegade Jew, and a negro who had been convicted of practising “Obi,” + were sentenced to death as impenitent, and delivered over to the +secular arm, with prayers that there might be no shedding of blood. In +compliance with which request, the Jew and the negro were burnt at one +stake, Frank and Rose at another. She thought they did not feel it more +than twenty minutes. They were both very bold and steadfast, and held +each other's hand (that she would swear to) to the very last. + +And so ended Lucy Passmore's story. And if Amyas Leigh, after he had +heard it, vowed afresh to give no quarter to Spaniards wherever he +should find them, who can wonder, even if they blame? + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +HOW SALVATION YEO FOUND HIS LITTLE MAID AGAIN + + “All precious things, discover'd late, + To them who seek them issue forth; + For love in sequel works with fate, + And draws the veil from hidden worth.” + + The Sleeping Beauty. + +And so Ayacanora took up her abode in Lucy's cabin, as a regularly +accredited member of the crew. + +But a most troublesome member; for now began in her that perilous crisis +which seems to endanger the bodies and souls of all savages and savage +tribes, when they first mingle with the white man; that crisis which, +a few years afterwards, began to hasten the extermination of the North +American tribes; and had it not been for the admirable good sense and +constancy of Amyas, Ayacanora might have ended even more miserably than +did the far-famed Pocahontas, daughter of the Virginian king; who, after +having been received at Court by the old pedant James the First, +with the honors of a sister sovereign, and having become the reputed +ancestress of more than one ancient Virginian family, ended her days in +wretchedness in some Wapping garret. + +For the mind of the savage, crushed by the sight of the white man's +superior skill, and wealth, and wisdom, loses at first its self-respect; +while his body, pampered with easily obtained luxuries, instead +of having to win the necessaries of life by heavy toil, loses its +self-helpfulness; and with self-respect and self-help vanish all the +savage virtues, few and flimsy as they are, and the downward road toward +begging and stealing, sottishness and idleness, is easy, if not sure. + +And down that road, it really seemed at first, that poor Ayacanora was +walking fast. For the warrior-prophetess of the Omaguas soon became, to +all appearance, nothing but a very naughty child; and the Diana of the +Meta, after she had satisfied her simple wonder at the great floating +house by rambling from deck to deck, and peeping into every cupboard +and cranny, manifested a great propensity to steal and hide (she was too +proud or too shy to ask for) every trumpery which smit her fancy; and +when Amyas forbade her to take anything without leave, threatened +to drown herself, and went off and sulked all day in her cabin. +Nevertheless, she obeyed him, except in the matter of sweet things. +Perhaps she craved naturally for the vegetable food of her native +forests; at all events the bishop's stores of fruit and sweetmeats +diminished rapidly; and what was worse, so did the sweet Spanish wine +which Amyas had set apart for poor Lucy's daily cordial. Whereon another +severe lecture, in which Amyas told her how mean it was to rob poor +sick Lucy; whereat she, as usual, threatened to drown herself; and was +running upon deck to do it, when Amyas caught her and forgave her. On +which a violent fit of crying, and great penitence and promises; and +a week after, Amyas found that she had cheated Satan and her own +conscience by tormenting the Portuguese steward into giving her some +other wine instead: but luckily for her, she found Amyas's warnings +about wine making her mad so far fulfilled, that she did several foolish +things one evening, and had a bad headache next morning; so the murder +was out, and Amyas ordered the steward up for a sound flogging; but +Ayacanora, honorably enough, not only begged him off, but offered to be +whipped instead of him, confessing that the poor fellow spoke truly when +he swore that she had threatened to kill him, and that he had given her +the wine in bodily fear for his life. + +However, her own headache and Amyas's cold looks were lesson enough, and +after another attempt to drown herself, the wilful beauty settled down +for awhile; and what was better, could hardly be persuaded, thenceforth +to her dying day, to touch fermented liquors. + +But, in the meanwhile, poor Amyas had many a brains-beating as to how +he was to tame a lady who, on the least provocation, took refuge in +suicide. Punish her he dared not, even if he had the heart. And as for +putting her ashore, he had an instinct, and surely not a superstitious +one, that her strange affection for the English was not unsent by +Heaven, and that God had committed her into his charge, and that He +would require an account at his hands of the soul of that fair lost +lamb. + +So, almost at his wits' end, he prayed to God, good simple fellow, and +that many a time, to show him what he should do with her before she +killed either herself, or what was just as likely, one of the crew; and +it seemed best to him to make Parson Jack teach her the rudiments of +Christianity, that she might be baptized in due time when they got home +to England. + +But here arose a fresh trouble--for she roundly refused to learn of +Jack, or of any one but Amyas himself; while he had many a good reason +for refusing the office of schoolmaster; so, for a week or two more, +Ayacanora remained untaught, save in the English tongue, which she +picked up with marvellous rapidity. + +And next, as if troubles would never end, she took a violent dislike, +not only to John Brimblecombe, whose gait and voice she openly mimicked +for the edification of the men; but also to Will Cary, whom she never +allowed to speak to her or approach her. Perhaps she was jealous of his +intimacy with Amyas; or perhaps, with the subtle instinct of a woman, +she knew that he was the only other man on board who might dare to make +love to her (though Will, to do him justice, was as guiltless of any +such intention as Amyas himself). But when she was remonstrated with, +her only answer was that Cary was a cacique as well as Amyas, and that +there ought not to be two caciques; and one day she actually proposed to +Amyas to kill his supposed rival, and take the ship all to himself; +and sulked for several days at hearing Amyas, amid shouts of laughter, +retail her precious advice to its intended victim. + +Moreover, the negroes came in for their share, being regarded all along +by her with an unspeakable repugnance, which showed itself at first in +hiding from them whenever she could, and, afterwards, in throwing at +them everything she could lay hands on, till the poor Quashies, in +danger of their lives, complained to Amyas, and got rest for awhile. + +Over the rest of the sailors she lorded it like a very princess, calling +them from their work to run on her errands and make toys for her, +enforcing her commands now and then by a shrewd box on the ears; while +the good fellows, especially old Yeo, like true sailors, petted her, +obeyed her, even jested with her, much as they might have done with a +tame leopard, whose claws might be unsheathed and about their ears at +any moment. But she amused them, and amused Amyas too. They must of +course have a pet; and what prettier one could they have? And as for +Amyas, the constant interest of her presence, even the constant +anxiety of her wilfulness, kept his mind busy, and drove out many a sad +foreboding about that meeting with his mother, and the tragedy which +he had to tell her, which would otherwise, so heavily did they weigh on +him, have crushed his spirit with melancholy, and made all his worldly +success and marvellous deliverance worthless in his eyes. + +At last the matter, as most things luckily do, came to a climax; and it +came in this way. + +The ship had been slipping along now for many a day, slowly but steadily +before a favorable breeze. She had passed the ring of the West India +islands, and was now crawling, safe from all pursuit, through the vast +weed-beds of the Sargasso Sea. There, for the first time, it was thought +safe to relax the discipline which had been hitherto kept up, and to +“rummage” (as was the word in those days) their noble prize. What they +found, of gold and silver, jewels, and merchandise, will interest no +readers. Suffice it to say, that there was enough there, with the other +treasure, to make Amyas rich for life, after all claims of Cary's and +the crew, not forgetting Mr. Salterne's third, as owner of the ship, +had been paid off. But in the captain's cabin were found two chests, one +full of gorgeous Mexican feather dresses, and the other of Spanish and +East Indian finery, which, having come by way of Havana and Cartagena, +was going on, it seemed, to some senora or other at the Caracas. Which +two chests were, at Cary's proposal, voted amid the acclamations of +the crew to Ayacanora, as her due and fit share of the pillage, in +consideration of her Amazonian prowess and valuable services. + +So the poor child took greedy possession of the trumpery, had them +carried into Lucy's cabin, and there knelt gloating over them many an +hour. The Mexican work she chose to despise as savage; but the Spanish +dresses were a treasure; and for two or three days she appeared on the +quarter-deck, sunning herself like a peacock before the eyes of Amyas in +Seville mantillas, Madrid hats, Indian brocade farthingales, and I know +not how many other gewgaws, and dare not say how put on. + +The crew tittered: Amyas felt much more inclined to cry. There is +nothing so pathetic as a child's vanity, saving a grown person aping a +child's vanity; and saving, too, a child's agony of disappointment when +it finds that it has been laughed at instead of being admired. Amyas +would have spoken, but he was afraid: however, the evil brought its own +cure. The pageant went on, as its actor thought, most successfully +for three days or so; but at last the dupe, unable to contain herself +longer, appealed to Amyas,--“Ayacanora quite English girl now; is she +not?”--heard a titter behind her, looked round, saw a dozen honest +faces in broad grin, comprehended all in a moment, darted down the +companion-ladder, and vanished. + +Amyas, fully expecting her to jump overboard, followed as fast as he +could. But she had locked herself in with Lucy, and he could hear her +violent sobs, and Lucy's faint voice entreating to know what was the +matter. + +In vain he knocked. She refused to come out all day, and at even they +were forced to break the door open, to prevent Lucy being starved. + +There sat Ayacanora, her finery half torn off, and scattered about the +floor in spite, crying still as if her heart would break; while poor +Lucy cried too, half from fright and hunger, and half for company. + +Amyas tried to comfort the poor child, assured her that the men should +never laugh at her again; “But then,” added he, “you must not be +so--so--” What to say he hardly knew. + +“So what?” asked she, crying more bitterly than ever. + +“So like a wild girl, Ayacanora.” + +Her hands dropped on her knees: a strong spasm ran through her +throat and bosom, and she fell on her knees before him, and looked up +imploringly in his face. + +“Yes; wild girl--poor, bad wild girl. . . . But I will be English girl +now!” + +“Fine clothes will never make you English, my child,” said Amyas. + +“No! not English clothes--English heart! Good heart, like yours! Yes, I +will be good, and Sir John shall teach me!” + +“There's my good maid,” said Amyas. “Sir John shall begin and teach you +to-morrow.” + +“No! Now! now! Ayacanora cannot wait. She will drown herself if she is +bad another day! Come, now!” + +And she made him fetch Brimblecombe, heard the honest fellow patiently +for an hour or more, and told Lucy that very night all that he had said. +And from that day, whenever Jack went in to read and pray with the +poor sufferer, Ayacanora, instead of escaping on deck as before, stood +patiently trying to make it all out, and knelt when he knelt, and tried +to pray too--that she might have an English heart; and doubtless her +prayers, dumb as they were, were not unheard. + +So went on a few days more, hopefully enough, without any outbreak, till +one morning, just after they had passed the Sargasso-beds. The ship +was taking care of herself; the men were all on deck under the awning, +tinkering, and cobbling, and chatting; Brimblecombe was catechising his +fair pupil in the cabin; Amyas and Cary, cigar in mouth, were chatting +about all heaven and earth, and, above all, of the best way of getting +up a fresh adventure against the Spaniards as soon as they returned; +while Amyas was pouring out to Will that dark hatred of the whole +nation, that dark purpose of revenge for his brother and for Rose, which +had settled down like a murky cloud into every cranny of his heart and +mind. Suddenly there was a noise below; a scuffle and a shout, +which made them both leap to their feet; and up on deck rushed Jack +Brimblecombe, holding his head on with both his hands. + +“Save me! save me from that she-fiend! She is possessed with a legion! +She has broken my nose--torn out half my hair!--and I'm sure I have none +to spare! Here she comes! Stand by me, gentlemen both! Satanas, I defy +thee!” And Jack ensconced himself behind the pair, as Ayacanora whirled +upon deck like a very Maenad, and, seeing Amyas, stopped short. + +“If you had defied Satan down below there,” said Cary, with a laugh, “I +suspect he wouldn't have broken out on you so boldly, Master Jack.” + +“I am innocent--innocent as the babe unborn! Oh! Mr. Cary! this is too +bad of you, sir!” quoth Jack indignantly, while Amyas asked what was the +matter. + +“He looked at me,” said she, sturdily. + +“Well, a cat may look at a king.” + +“But he sha'n't look at Ayacanora. Nobody shall but you, or I'll kill +him!” + +In vain Jack protested his innocence of having even looked at her. The +fancy (and I verily believe it was nothing more) had taken possession of +her. She refused to return below to her lesson. Jack went off grumbling, +minus his hair, and wore a black eye for a week after. + +“At all events,” quoth Cary, re-lighting his cigar, “it's a fault on the +right side.” + +“God give me grace, or it may be one on the wrong side for me.” + +“He will, old heart-of-oak!” said Cary, laying his arm around Amyas's +neck, to the evident disgust of Ayacanora, who went off to the side, +got a fishing-line, and began amusing herself therewith, while the ship +slipped on quietly and silently as ever, save when Ayacanora laughed and +clapped her hands at the flying-fish scudding from the bonitos. At last, +tired of doing nothing, she went forward to the poop-rail to listen to +John Squire the armorer, who sat tinkering a headpiece, and humming a +song, mutato nomine, concerning his native place-- + + “Oh, Bideford is a pleasant place, it shines where it stands, + And the more I look upon it, the more my heart it warms; + For there are fair young lasses, in rows upon the quay, + To welcome gallant mariners, when they come home from say.” + +“'Tis Sunderland, John Squire, to the song, and not Bidevor,” said his +mate. + +“Well, Bidevor's so good as Sunderland any day, for all there's +no say-coals there blacking a place about; and makes just so good +harmonies, Tommy Hamblyn-- + + “Oh, if I was a herring, to swim the ocean o'er, + Or if I was a say-dove, to fly unto the shoor, + To fly unto my true love, a waiting at the door, + To wed her with a goold ring, and plough the main no moor.” + +Here Yeo broke in-- + +“Aren't you ashamed, John Squire, to your years, singing such carnal +vanities, after all the providences you have seen? Let the songs of Zion +be in your mouth, man, if you must needs keep a caterwauling all day +like that.” + +“You sing 'em yourself then, gunner.” + +“Well,” says Yeo, “and why not?” And out he pulled his psalm-book, and +began a scrap of the grand old psalm-- + + “Such as in ships and brittle barks + Into the seas descend, + Their merchandise through fearful floods + To compass and to end; + There men are forced to behold + The Lord's works what they be; + And in the dreadful deep the same, + Most marvellous they see.” + +“Humph!” said John Squire. “Very good and godly: but still I du like +a merry catch now and then, I du. Wouldn't you let a body sing +'Rumbelow'--even when he's heaving of the anchor?” + +“Well, I don't know,” said Yeo; “but the Lord's people had better +praise the Lord then too, and pray for a good voyage, instead of howling +about-- + + “A randy, dandy, dandy O, + A whet of ale and brandy O, + With a rumbelow and a Westward-ho! + And heave, my mariners all, O!” + +“Is that fit talk for immortal souls? How does that child's-trade sound +beside the Psalms, John Squire?” + +Now it befell that Salvation Yeo, for the very purpose of holding up to +ridicule that time-honored melody, had put into it the true nasal twang, +and rung it out as merrily as he had done perhaps twelve years before, +when he got up John Oxenham's anchor in Plymouth Sound. And it befell +also that Ayacanora, as she stood by Amyas's side, watching the men, and +trying to make out their chat, heard it, and started; and then, half to +herself, took up the strain, and sang it over again, word for word, in +the very same tune and tone. + +Salvation Yeo started in his turn, and turned deadly pale. + +“Who sung that?” he asked quickly. + +“The little maid here. She's coming on nicely in her English,” said +Amyas. + +“The little maid?” said Yeo, turning paler still. “Why do you go about +to scare an old servant, by talking of little maids, Captain Amyas? +Well,” he said aloud to himself, “as I am a sinful saint, if I hadn't +seen where the voice came from, I could have sworn it was her; just as +we taught her to sing it by the river there, I and William Penberthy of +Marazion, my good comrade. The Lord have mercy on me!” + +All were silent as the grave whenever Yeo made any allusion to that lost +child. Ayacanora only, pleased with Amyas's commendation, went humming +on to herself-- + + “And heave, my mariners all, O!” + +Yeo started up from the gun where he sat. + +“I can't abear it! As I live, I can't! You, Indian maiden, where did you +learn to sing that there?” + +Ayacanora looked up at him, half frightened by his vehemence, then at +Amyas, to see if she had been doing anything wrong; and then turned +saucily away, looked over the side, and hummed on. + +“Ask her, for mercy's sake--ask her, Captain Leigh!” + +“My child,” said Amyas, speaking in Indian, “how is it you sing that so +much better than any other English? Did you ever hear it before?” + +Ayacanora looked up at him puzzled, and shook her head; and then-- + +“If you tell Indian to Ayacanora, she dumb. She must be English girl +now, like poor Lucy.” + +“Well then,” said Amyas, “do you recollect, Ayacanora--do you +recollect--what shall I say? anything that happened when you were a +little girl?” + +She paused awhile; and then moving her hands overhead-- + +“Trees--great trees like the Magdalena--always nothing but trees--wild +and bad everything. Ayacanora won't talk about that.” + +“Do you mind anything that grew on those trees?” asked Yeo, eagerly. + +She laughed. “Silly! Flowers and fruit, and nuts--grow on all trees, and +monkey-cups too. Ayacanora climbed up after them--when she was wild. I +won't tell any more.” + +“But who taught you to call them monkey-cups?” asked Yeo, trembling with +excitement. + +“Monkey's drink; mono drink.” + +“Mono?” said Yeo, foiled on one cast, and now trying another. “How did +you know the beasts were called monos?” + +“She might have heard it coming down with us,” said Cary, who had joined +the group. + +“Ay, monos,” said she, in a self-justifying tone. “Faces like little +men, and tails. And one very dirty black one, with a beard, say Amen in +a tree to all the other monkeys, just like Sir John on Sunday.” + +This allusion to Brimblecombe and the preaching apes upset all but old +Yeo. + +“But don't you recollect any Christians?--white people?” + +She was silent. + +“Don't you mind a white lady?” + +“Um?” + +“A woman, a very pretty woman, with hair like his?” pointing to Amyas. + +“No.” + +“What do you mind, then, beside those Indians?” added Yeo, in despair. + +She turned her back on him peevishly, as if tired with the efforts of +her memory. + +“Do try to remember,” said Amyas; and she set to work again at once. + +“Ayacanora mind great monkeys--black, oh, so high,” and she held up her +hand above her head, and made a violent gesture of disgust. + +“Monkeys? what, with tails?” + +“No, like man. Ah! yes--just like Cooky there--dirty Cooky!” + +And that hapless son of Ham, who happened to be just crossing the +main-deck, heard a marlingspike, which by ill luck was lying at hand, +flying past his ears. + +“Ayacanora, if you heave any more things at Cooky, I must have you +whipped,” said Amyas, without, of course, any such intention. + +“I'll kill you, then,” answered she, in the most matter-of-fact tone. + +“She must mean negurs,” said Yeo; “I wonder where she saw them, now. +What if it were they Cimaroons?” + +“But why should any one who had seen whites forget them, and yet +remember negroes?” asked Cary. + +“Let us try again. Do you mind no great monkeys but those black ones?” + asked Amyas. + +“Yes,” she said, after a while,--“devil.” + +“Devil?” asked all three, who, of course, were by no means free from the +belief that the fiend did actually appear to the Indian conjurors, such +as had brought up the girl. + +“Ay, him Sir John tell about on Sundays.” + +“Save and help us!” said Yeo; “and what was he like unto?” + +She made various signs to intimate that he had a monkey's face, and +a gray beard like Yeo's. So far so good: but now came a series of +manipulations about her pretty little neck, which set all their fancies +at fault. + +“I know,” said Cary, at last, bursting into a great laugh. “Sir Urian +had a ruff on, as I live! Trunk-hose too, my fair dame? Stop--I'll make +sure. Was his neck like the senor commandant's, the Spaniard?” + +Ayacanora clapped her hands at finding herself understood, and the +questioning went on. + +“The 'devil' appeared like a monkey, with a gray beard, in a +ruff;--humph!--” + +“Ay!” said she in good enough Spanish, “Mono de Panama; viejo diablo de +Panama.” + +Yeo threw up his hands with a shriek--“Oh Lord of all mercies! Those +were the last words of Mr. John Oxenham! Ay--and the devil is surely +none other than the devil Don Francisco Xararte! Oh dear! oh dear! oh +dear! my sweet young lady! my pretty little maid! and don't you know me? +Don't you know Salvation Yeo, that carried you over the mountains, +and used to climb for the monkey-cups for you, my dear young lady? And +William Penberthy too, that used to get you flowers; and your poor dear +father, that was just like Mr. Cary there, only he had a black beard, +and black curls, and swore terribly in his speech, like a Spaniard, my +dear young lady?” + +And the honest fellow, falling on his knees, covered Ayacanora's hands +with kisses; while all the crew, fancying him gone suddenly mad, crowded +aft. + +“Steady, men, and don't vex him!” said Amyas. “He thinks that he has +found his little maid at last.” + +“And so do I, Amyas, as I live,” said Cary. + +“Steady, steady, my masters all! If this turn out a wrong scent after +all, his wits will crack. Mr. Yeo, can't you think of any other token?” + +Yeo stamped impatiently. “What need then? it's her, I tell ye, and +that's enough! What a beauty she's grown! Oh dear! where were my eyes +all this time, to behold her, and not to see her! 'Tis her very mortal +self, it is! And don't you mind me, my dear, now? Don't you mind +Salvation Yeo, that taught you to sing 'Heave my mariners all, O!' +a-sitting on a log by the boat upon the sand, and there was a sight of +red lilies grew on it in the moss, dear, now, wasn't there? and we made +posies of them to put in your hair, now?”--And the poor old man ran on +in a supplicating, suggestive tone, as if he could persuade the girl +into becoming the person whom he sought. + +Ayacanora had watched him, first angry, then amused, then attentive, and +at last with the most intense earnestness. Suddenly she grew crimson, +and snatching her hands from the old man's, hid her face in them, and +stood. + +“Do you remember anything of all this, my child?” asked Amyas, gently. + +She lifted up her eyes suddenly to his, with a look of imploring agony, +as if beseeching him to spare her. The death of a whole old life, +the birth of a whole new life, was struggling in that beautiful face, +choking in that magnificent throat, as she threw back her small head, +and drew in her breath, and dashed her locks back from her temples, as +if seeking for fresh air. She shuddered, reeled, then fell weeping on +the bosom, not of Salvation Yeo, but of Amyas Leigh. + +He stood still a minute or two, bearing that fair burden, ere he could +recollect himself. Then,-- + +“Ayacanora, you are not yet mistress of yourself, my child. You were +better to go down, and see after poor Lucy, and we will talk about it +all to-morrow.” + +She gathered herself up instantly, and with eyes fixed on the deck slid +through the group, and disappeared below. + +“Ah!” said Yeo, with a tone of exquisite sadness; “the young to the +young! Over land and sea, in the forests and in the galleys, in battle +and prison, I have sought her! And now!--” + +“My good friend,” said Amyas, “neither are you master of yourself yet. +When she comes round again, whom will she love and thank but you?” + +“You, sir! She owes all to you; and so do I. Let me go below, sir. My +old wits are shaky. Bless you, sir, and thank you for ever and ever!” + +And Yeo grasped Amyas's hand, and went down to his cabin, from which he +did not reappear for many hours. + +From that day Ayacanora was a new creature. The thought that she was +an Englishwoman; that she, the wild Indian, was really one of the +great white people whom she had learned to worship, carried in it some +regenerating change: she regained all her former stateliness, and with +it a self-restraint, a temperance, a softness which she had never shown +before. Her dislike to Cary and Jack vanished. Modest and distant as +ever, she now took delight in learning from them about England and +English people; and her knowledge of our customs gained much from the +somewhat fantastic behaviour which Amyas thought good, for reasons +of his own, to assume toward her. He assigned her a handsome cabin to +herself, always addressed her as madam, and told Cary, Brimblecombe, and +the whole crew that as she was a lady and a Christian, he expected them +to behave to her as such. So there was as much bowing and scraping +on the poop as if it had been a prince's court: and Ayacanora, though +sorely puzzled and chagrined at Amyas's new solemnity, contrived to +imitate it pretty well (taking for granted that it was the right thing); +and having tolerable masters in the art of manners (for both Amyas and +Cary were thoroughly well-bred men), profited much in all things, except +in intimacy with Amyas, who had, cunning fellow, hit on this parade of +good manners, as a fresh means of increasing the distance between him +and her. The crew, of course, though they were a little vexed at losing +their pet, consoled themselves with the thought that she was a “real +born lady,” and Mr. Oxenham's daughter, too; and there was not a man on +board who did not prick up his ears for a message if she approached him, +or one who would not have, I verily believe, jumped overboard to do her +a pleasure. + +Only Yeo kept sorrowfully apart. He never looked at her, spoke to her, +met her even, if he could. His dream had vanished. He had found her! and +after all, she did not care for him? Why should she? + +But it was hard to have hunted a bubble for years, and have it break +in his hand at last. “Set not your affections on things on the earth,” + murmured Yeo to himself, as he pored over his Bible, in the vain hope of +forgetting his little maid. + +But why did Amyas wish to increase the distance between himself and +Ayacanora? Many reasons might be given: I deny none of them. But the +main one, fantastic as it may seem, was simply, that while she had +discovered herself to be an Englishwoman, he had discovered her to be a +Spaniard. If her father were seven times John Oxenham (and even that the +perverse fellow was inclined to doubt), her mother was a Spaniard--Pah! +one of the accursed race; kinswoman--perhaps, to his brother's +murderers! His jaundiced eyes could see nothing but the Spanish element +in her; or, indeed, in anything else. As Cary said to him once, using a +cant phrase of Sidney's, which he had picked up from Frank, all heaven +and earth were “spaniolated,” to him. He seemed to recollect nothing but +that Heaven had “made Spaniards to be killed, and him to kill them.” If +he had not been the most sensible of John Bulls, he would certainly have +forestalled the monomania of that young Frenchman of rank, who, some +eighty years after him, so maddened his brain by reading of the Spanish +cruelties, that he threw up all his prospects and turned captain of +filibusters in the West Indies, for the express purpose of ridding them +of their tyrants; and when a Spanish ship was taken, used to relinquish +the whole booty to his crew, and reserve for himself only the pleasure +of witnessing his victims' dying agonies. + +But what had become of that bird-like song of Ayacanora's which had +astonished them on the banks of the Meta, and cheered them many a time +in their anxious voyage down the Magdalena? From the moment that she +found out her English parentage, it stopped. She refused utterly to sing +anything but the songs and psalms which she picked up from the English. +Whether it was that she despised it as a relic of her barbarism, or +whether it was too maddening for one whose heart grew heavier and +humbler day by day, the nightingale notes were heard no more. + +So homeward they ran, before a favoring southwest breeze: but long +ere they were within sight of land, Lucy Passmore was gone to her rest +beneath the Atlantic waves. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +HOW AMYAS CAME HOME THE THIRD TIME + + “It fell about the Martinmas, + When nights were lang and mirk, + That wife's twa sons cam hame again, + And their hats were o' the birk. + + “It did na graw by bush or brae, + Nor yet in ony shough; + But by the gates o' paradise + That birk grew fair eneugh.” + + The Wife of Usher's Well. + +It is the evening of the 15th of February, 1587, and Mrs. Leigh (for +we must return now to old scenes and old faces) is pacing slowly up and +down the terrace-walk at Burrough, looking out over the winding river, +and the hazy sand-hills, and the wide western sea, as she has done every +evening, be it fair weather or foul, for three weary years. Three years +and more are past and gone, and yet no news of Frank and Amyas, and +the gallant ship and all the gallant souls therein; and loving eyes in +Bideford and Appledore, Clovelly and Ilfracombe, have grown hollow with +watching and with weeping for those who have sailed away into the West, +as John Oxenham sailed before them, and have vanished like a dream, as +he did, into the infinite unknown. Three weary years, and yet no word. +Once there was a flush of hope, and good Sir Richard (without Mrs. +Leigh's knowledge), had sent a horseman posting across to Plymouth, when +the news arrived that Drake, Frobisher, and Carlisle had returned with +their squadron from the Spanish Main. Alas! he brought back great news, +glorious news; news of the sacking of Cartagena, San Domingo, Saint +Augustine; of the relief of Raleigh's Virginian Colony: but no news of +the Rose, and of those who had sailed in her. And Mrs. Leigh bowed her +head, and worshipped, and said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken +away; blessed be the name of the Lord!” + +Her hair was now grown gray; her cheeks were wan; her step was feeble. +She seldom went from home, save to the church, and to the neighboring +cottages. She never mentioned her sons' names; never allowed a word to +pass her lips, which might betoken that she thought of them; but every +day, when the tide was high, and red flag on the sandhills showed that +there was water over the bar, she paced the terrace-walk, and devoured +with greedy eyes the sea beyond in search of the sail which never came. +The stately ships went in and out as of yore; and white sails hung off +the bar for many an hour, day after day, month after month, year after +year: but an instinct within told her that none of them were the sails +she sought. She knew that ship, every line of her, the cut of every +cloth; she could have picked it out miles away, among a whole fleet, but +it never came, and Mrs. Leigh bowed her head and worshipped, and went +to and fro among the poor, who looked on her as an awful being, and one +whom God had brought very near to Himself, in that mysterious heaven of +sorrow which they too knew full well. And lone women and bed-ridden men +looked in her steadfast eyes, and loved them, and drank in strength from +them; for they knew (though she never spoke of her own grief) that she +had gone down into the fiercest depths of the fiery furnace, and was +walking there unhurt by the side of One whose form was as of the Son +of God. And all the while she was blaming herself for her “earthly” + longings, and confessing nightly to Heaven that weakness which she could +not shake off, which drew her feet at each high tide to the terrace-walk +beneath the row of wind-clipt trees. + +But this evening Northam is in a stir. The pebble ridge is thundering +far below, as it thundered years ago: but Northam is noisy enough +without the rolling of the surge. The tower is rocking with the pealing +bells: the people are all in the streets shouting and singing round +bonfires. They are burning the pope in effigy, drinking to the queen's +health, and “So perish all her enemies!” The hills are red with bonfires +in every village; and far away, the bells of Bideford are answering +the bells of Northam, as they answered them seven years ago, when Amyas +returned from sailing round the world. For this day has come the news +that Mary Queen of Scots is beheaded in Fotheringay; and all England, +like a dreamer who shakes off some hideous nightmare, has leapt up in +one tremendous shout of jubilation, as the terror and the danger of +seventeen anxious years is lifted from its heart for ever. + +Yes, she is gone, to answer at a higher tribunal than that of the +Estates of England, for all the noble English blood which has been +poured out for her; for all the noble English hearts whom she has +tempted into treachery, rebellion, and murder. Elizabeth's own words +have been fulfilled at last, after years of long-suffering,-- + + “The daughter of debate, + That discord aye doth sow, + Hath reap'd no gain where former rule + Hath taught still peace to grow.” + +And now she can do evil no more. Murder and adultery, the heart which +knew no forgiveness, the tongue which could not speak truth even for its +own interest, have past and are perhaps atoned for; and her fair face +hangs a pitiful dream in the memory even of those who knew that either +she, or England, must perish. + + “Nothing is left of her + Now, but pure womanly.” + +And Mrs. Leigh, Protestant as she is, breathes a prayer, that the Lord +may have mercy on that soul, as “clear as diamond, and as hard,” as she +said of herself. That last scene, too, before the fatal block--it could +not be altogether acting. Mrs. Leigh had learned many a priceless lesson +in the last seven years; might not Mary Stuart have learned something +in seventeen? And Mrs. Leigh had been a courtier, and knew, as far as a +chaste Englishwoman could know (which even in those coarser days was not +very much), of that godless style of French court profligacy in which +poor Mary had had her youthful training, amid the Medicis, and the +Guises, and Cardinal Lorraine; and she shuddered, and sighed to +herself”--To whom little is given, of them shall little be required!” + But still the bells pealed on and would not cease. + +What was that which answered them from afar out of the fast darkening +twilight? A flash, and then the thunder of a gun at sea. + +Mrs. Leigh stopped. The flash was right outside the bar. A ship in +distress it could not be. The wind was light and westerly. It was a +high spring-tide, as evening floods are always there. What could it be? +Another flash, another gun. The noisy folks of Northam were hushed at +once, and all hurried into the churchyard which looks down on the broad +flats and the river. + +There was a gallant ship outside the bar. She was running in, too, with +all sails set. A large ship; nearly a thousand tons she might be; but +not of English rig. What was the meaning of it? A Spanish cruiser about +to make reprisals for Drake's raid along the Cadiz shore! Not that, +surely. The Don had no fancy for such unscientific and dare-devil +warfare. If he came, he would come with admiral, rear-admiral, and +vice-admiral, transports, and avisos, according to the best-approved +methods, articles, and science of war. What could she be? + +Easily, on the flowing tide and fair western wind, she has slipped +up the channel between the two lines of sandhill. She is almost off +Appledore now. She is no enemy; and if she be a foreigner, she is a +daring one, for she has never veiled her topsails,--and that, all know, +every foreign ship must do within sight of an English port, or stand the +chance of war; as the Spanish admiral found, who many a year since +was sent in time of peace to fetch home from Flanders Anne of Austria, +Philip the Second's last wife. + +For in his pride he sailed into Plymouth Sound without veiling topsails, +or lowering the flag of Spain. Whereon, like lion from his den, out +rushed John Hawkins the port admiral, in his famous Jesus of Lubec +(afterwards lost in the San Juan d'Ulloa fight), and without argument or +parley, sent a shot between the admiral's masts; which not producing the +desired effect, alongside ran bold Captain John, and with his next +shot, so says his son, an eye-witness, “lackt the admiral through and +through;” whereon down came the offending flag; and due apologies were +made, but not accepted for a long time by the stout guardian of her +majesty's honor. And if John Hawkins did as much for a Spanish fleet in +time of peace, there is more than one old sea-dog in Appledore who will +do as much for a single ship in time of war, if he can find even an iron +pot to burn powder withal. + +The strange sail passed out of sight behind the hill of Appledore; and +then there rose into the quiet evening air a cheer, as from a hundred +throats. Mrs. Leigh stood still, and listened. Another gun thundered +among the hills; and then another cheer. + +It might have been twenty minutes before the vessel hove in sight again +round the dark rocks of the Hubbastone, as she turned up the Bideford +river. Mrs. Leigh had stood that whole time perfectly motionless, a pale +and scarcely breathing statue, her eyes fixed upon the Viking's rock. + +Round the Hubbastone she came at last. There was music on board, drums +and fifes, shawms and trumpets, which wakened ringing echoes from every +knoll of wood and slab of slate. And as she opened full on Burrough +House, another cheer burst from her crew, and rolled up to the hills +from off the silver waters far below, full a mile away. + +Mrs. Leigh walked quickly toward the house, and called her maid,-- + +“Grace, bring me my hood. Master Amyas is come home!” + +“No, surely? O joyful sound! Praised and blessed be the Lord, then; +praised and blessed be the Lord! But, madam, however did you know that?” + +“I heard his voice on the river; but I did not hear Mr. Frank's with +him, Grace!” + +“Oh, be sure, madam, where the one is the other is. They'd never part +company. Both come home or neither, I'll warrant. Here's your hood, +madam.” + +And Mrs. Leigh, with Grace behind her, started with rapid steps towards +Bideford. + +Was it true? Was it a dream? Had the divine instinct of the mother +enabled her to recognize her child's voice among all the rest, and at +that enormous distance; or was her brain turning with the long effort of +her supernatural calm? + +Grace asked herself, in her own way, that same question many a time +between Burrough and Bideford. When they arrived on the quay the +question answered itself. + +As they came down Bridgeland Street (where afterwards the tobacco +warehouses for the Virginia trade used to stand, but which then was but +a row of rope-walks and sailmakers' shops), they could see the strange +ship already at anchor in the river. They had just reached the lower end +of the street, when round the corner swept a great mob, sailors, women, +'prentices, hurrahing, questioning, weeping, laughing: Mrs. Leigh +stopped; and behold, they stopped also. + +“Here she is!” shouted some one; “here's his mother!” + +“His mother? Not their mother!” said Mrs. Leigh to herself, and turned +very pale; but that heart was long past breaking. + +The next moment the giant head and shoulders of Amyas, far above the +crowd, swept round the corner. + +“Make a way! Make room for Madam Leigh!”--And Amyas fell on his knees at +her feet. + +She threw her arms round his neck, and bent her fair head over his, +while sailors, 'prentices, and coarse harbor-women were hushed into holy +silence, and made a ring round the mother and the son. + +Mrs. Leigh asked no question. She saw that Amyas was alone. + +At last he whispered, “I would have died to save him, mother, if I +could.” + +“You need not tell me that, Amyas Leigh, my son.” + +Another silence. + +“How did he die?” whispered Mrs. Leigh. + +“He is a martyr. He died in the----” + +Amyas could say no more. + +“The Inquisition?” + +“Yes.” + +A strong shudder passed through Mrs. Leigh's frame, and then she lifted +up her head. + +“Come home, Amyas. I little expected such an honor--such an honor--ha! +ha! and such a fair young martyr, too; a very St. Stephen! God, have +mercy on me; and let me not go mad before these folk, when I ought to be +thanking Thee for Thy great mercies! Amyas, who is that?” + +And she pointed to Ayacanora, who stood close behind Amyas, watching +with keen eyes the whole. + +“She is a poor wild Indian girl--my daughter, I call her. I will tell +you her story hereafter.” + +“Your daughter? My grand-daughter, then. Come hither, maiden, and be my +grand-daughter.” + +Ayacanora came obedient, and knelt down, because she had seen Amyas +kneel. + +“God forbid, child! kneel not to me. Come home, and let me know whether +I am sane or mazed, alive or dead.” + +And drawing her hood over her face, she turned to go back, holding Amyas +tight by one hand, and Ayacanora by the other. + +The crowd let them depart some twenty yards in respectful silence, and +then burst into a cheer which made the old town ring. + +Mrs. Leigh stopped suddenly. + +“I had forgotten, Amyas. You must not let me stand in the way of your +duty. Where are your men?” + +“Kissed to death by this time; all of them, that is, who are left.” + +“Left?” + +“We went out a hundred, mother, and we came home forty-four--if we are +at home. Is it a dream, mother? Is this you? and this old Bridgeland +Street again? As I live, there stands Evans the smith, at his door, +tankard in hand, as he did when I was a boy!” + +The brawny smith came across the street to them; but stopped when he saw +Amyas, but no Frank. + +“Better one than neither, madam!” said he, trying a rough comfort. Amyas +shook his hand as he passed him; but Mrs. Leigh neither heard nor saw +him nor any one. + +“Mother,” said Amyas, when they were now past the causeway, “we are rich +for life.” + +“Yes; a martyr's death was the fittest for him.” + +“I have brought home treasure untold.” + +“What, my boy?” + +“Treasure untold. Cary has promised to see to it to-night.” + +“Very well. I would that he had slept at our house. He was a kindly lad, +and loved Frank. When did he?”-- + +“Three years ago, and more. Within two months of our sailing.” + +“Ah! Yes, he told me so.” + +“Told you so?” + +“Yes; the dear lad has often come to see me in my sleep; but you never +came. I guessed how it was--as it should be.” + +“But I loved you none the less, mother!” + +“I know that, too: but you were busy with the men, you know, sweet; +so your spirit could not come roving home like his, which was free. +Yes--all as it should be. My maid, and do you not find it cold here in +England, after those hot regions?” + +“Ayacanora's heart is warm; she does not think about cold.” + +“Warm? perhaps you will warm my heart for me, then.” + +“Would God I could do it, mother!” said Amyas, half reproachfully. + +Mrs. Leigh looked up in his face, and burst into a violent flood of +tears. + +“Sinful! sinful that I am!” + +“Blessed creature!” cried Amyas, “if you speak so I shall go mad. +Mother, mother, I have been dreading this meeting for months. It has +been a nightmare hanging over me like a horrible black thunder-cloud; a +great cliff miles high, with its top hid in the clouds, which I had to +climb, and dare not. I have longed to leap overboard, and flee from it +like a coward into the depths of the sea.--The thought that you might +ask me whether I was not my brother's keeper--that you might require his +blood at my hands--and now, now! when it comes! to find you all love, +and trust, and patience--mother, mother, it's more than I can bear!” and +he wept violently. + +Mrs. Leigh knew enough of Amyas to know that any burst of this kind, +from his quiet nature, betokened some very fearful struggle; and the +loving creature forgot everything instantly, in the one desire to soothe +him. + +And soothe him she did; and home the two went, arm in arm together, +while Ayacanora held fast, like a child, by the skirt of Mrs. Leigh's +cloak. The self-help and daring of the forest nymph had given place to +the trembling modesty of the young girl, suddenly cast on shore in a new +world, among strange faces, strange hopes, and strange fears also. + +“Will your mother love me?” whispered she to Amyas, as she went in. + +“Yes; but you must do what she tells you.” + +Ayacanora pouted. + +“She will laugh at me, because I am wild.” + +“She never laughs at any one.” + +“Humph!” said Ayacanora. “Well, I shall not be afraid of her. I thought +she would have been tall like you; but she is not even as big as me.” + +This hardly sounded hopeful for the prospect of Ayacanora's obedience; +but ere twenty-four hours had passed, Mrs. Leigh had won her over +utterly; and she explained her own speech by saying that she thought so +great a man ought to have a great mother. She had expected, poor thing, +in her simplicity, some awful princess with a frown like Juno's own, and +found instead a healing angel. + +Her story was soon told to Mrs. Leigh, who of course, woman-like, +would not allow a doubt as to her identity. And the sweet mother never +imprinted a prouder or fonder kiss upon her son's forehead, than +that with which she repaid his simple declaration, that he had kept +unspotted, like a gentleman and a Christian, the soul which God had put +into his charge. + +“Then you have forgiven me, mother?” + +“Years ago I said in this same room, what should I render to the Lord +for having given me two such sons? And in this room I say it once again. +Tell me all about my other son, that I may honor him as I honor you.” + +And then, with the iron nerve which good women have, she made him give +her every detail of Lucy Passmore's story and of all which had happened +from the day of their sailing to that luckless night at Guayra. And when +it was done, she led Ayacanora out, and began busying herself about the +girl's comforts, as calmly as if Frank and Amyas had been sleeping in +their cribs in the next room. + +But she had hardly gone upstairs, when a loud knock at the door was +followed by its opening hastily; and into the hall burst, regardless of +etiquette, the tall and stately figure of Sir Richard Grenville. + +Amyas dropped on his knees instinctively. The stern warrior was quite +unmanned; and as he bent over his godson, a tear dropped from that iron +cheek, upon the iron cheek of Amyas Leigh. + +“My lad! my glorious lad! and where have you been? Get up, and tell me +all. The sailors told me a little, but I must hear every word. I knew +you would do something grand. I told your mother you were too good a +workman for God to throw away. Now, let me have the whole story. Why, I +am out of breath! To tell truth, I ran three-parts of the way hither.” + +And down the two sat, and Amyas talked long into the night; while Sir +Richard, his usual stateliness recovered, smiled stern approval at each +deed of daring; and when all was ended, answered with something like a +sigh: + +“Would God that I had been with you every step! Would God, at least, +that I could show as good a three-years' log-book, Amyas, my lad!” + +“You can show a better one, I doubt not.” + +“Humph! With the exception of one paltry Spanish prize, I don't know +that the queen is the better, or her enemies the worse, for me, since we +parted last in Dublin city.” + +“You are too modest, sir.” + +“Would that I were; but I got on in Ireland, I found, no better than my +neighbors; and so came home again, to find that while I had been wasting +my time in that land of misrule, Raleigh had done a deed to which I can +see no end. For, lad, he has found (or rather his two captains, Amadas +and Barlow, have found for him) between Florida and Newfoundland, a +country, the like of which, I believe, there is not on the earth for +climate and fertility. Whether there be gold there, I know not, and it +matters little; for there is all else on earth that man can want; furs, +timber, rivers, game, sugar-canes, corn, fruit, and every commodity +which France, Spain, or Italy can yield, wild in abundance; the savages +civil enough for savages, and, in a word, all which goes to the making +of as noble a jewel as her majesty's crown can wear. The people call it +Wingandacoa; but we, after her majesty, Virginia.” + +“You have been there, then?” + +“The year before last, lad; and left there Ralf Lane, Amadas, and some +twenty gentlemen, and ninety men, and, moreover, some money of my own, +and some of old Will Salterne's, which neither of us will ever see +again. For the colony, I know not how, quarrelled with the Indians (I +fear I too was over-sharp with some of them for stealing--if I was, God +forgive me!), and could not, forsooth, keep themselves alive for twelve +months; so that Drake, coming back from his last West Indian voyage, +after giving them all the help he could, had to bring the whole party +home. And if you will believe it, the faint-hearted fellows had not been +gone a fortnight, before I was back again with three ships and all that +they could want. And never was I more wroth in my life, when all I found +was the ruins of their huts, which (so rich is the growth there) were +already full of great melons, and wild deer feeding thereon--a pretty +sight enough, but not what I wanted just then. So back I came; and being +in no overgood temper, vented my humors on the Portugals at the Azores, +and had hard fights and small booty. So there the matter stands, but not +for long; for shame it were if such a paradise, once found by Britons, +should fall into the hands of any but her majesty; and we will try again +this spring, if men and money can be found. Eh, lad?” + +“But the prize?” + +“Ah! that was no small make-weight to our disasters, after all. I +sighted her for six days' sail from the American coast: but ere we could +lay her aboard it fell dead calm. Never a boat had I on board--they +were all lost in a gale of wind--and the other ships were becalmed two +leagues astern of me. There was no use lying there and pounding her till +she sank; so I called the carpenter, got up all the old chests, and with +them and some spars we floated ourselves alongside, and only just in +time. For the last of us had hardly scrambled up into the chains, when +our crazy Noah's ark went all aboard, and sank at the side, so that if +we had been minded to run away, Amyas, we could not; whereon, judging +valor to be the better part of discretion (as I usually do), we fell to +with our swords and had her in five minutes, and fifty thousand pounds' +worth in her, which set up my purse again, and Raleigh's too, though I +fear it has run out again since as fast as it ran in.” + +And so ended Sir Richard's story. + +Amyas went the next day to Salterne, and told his tale. The old man had +heard the outlines of it already: but he calmly bade him sit down, and +listened to all, his chin upon his hand, his elbows on his knees. His +cheek never blanched, his lips never quivered throughout. Only when +Amyas came to Rose's marriage, he heaved a long breath, as if a weight +was taken off his heart. + +“Say that again, sir!” + +Amyas said it again, and then went on; faltering, he hinted at the +manner of her death. + +“Go on, sir! Why are you afraid? There is nothing to be ashamed of +there, is there?” + +Amyas told the whole with downcast eyes, and then stole a look at his +hearer's face. There was no sign of emotion: only somewhat of a proud +smile curled the corners of that iron mouth. + +“And her husband?” asked he, after a pause. + +“I am ashamed to have to tell you, sir, that the man still lives.” + +“Still lives, sir?” + +“Too true, as far as I know. That it was not my fault, my story bears me +witness.” + +“Sir, I never doubted your will to kill him. Still lives, you say? Well, +so do rats and adders. And now, I suppose, Captain Leigh, your worship +is minded to recruit yourself on shore a while with the fair lass whom +you have brought home (as I hear) before having another dash at the +devil and his kin!” + +“Do not mention that young lady's name with mine, sir; she is no more to +me than she is to you; for she has Spanish blood in her veins.” + +Salterne smiled grimly. + +“But I am minded at least to do one thing, Mr. Salterne, and that is, to +kill Spaniards, in fair fight, by land and sea, wheresoever I shall meet +them. And, therefore, I stay not long here, whithersoever I may be bound +next.” + +“Well, sir, when you start, come to me for a ship, and the best I have +is at your service; and, if she do not suit, command her to be fitted as +you like best; and I, William Salterne, will pay for all which you shall +command to be done.” + +“My good sir, I have accounts to square with you after a very different +fashion. As part-adventurer in the Rose, I have to deliver to you your +share of the treasure which I have brought home.” + +“My share, sir? If I understood you, my ship was lost off the coast of +the Caracas three years agone, and this treasure was all won since?” + +“True; but you, as an adventurer in the expedition, have a just claim +for your share, and will receive it.” + +“Captain Leigh, you are, I see, as your father was before you, a just +and upright Christian man: but, sir, this money is none of mine, for it +was won in no ship of mine.--Hear me, sir! And if it had been, and +that ship”--(he could not speak her name)--“lay safe and sound now by +Bideford quay, do you think, sir, that William Salterne is the man to +make money out of his daughter's sin and sorrow, and to handle the price +of blood? No, sir! You went like a gentleman to seek her, and like a +gentleman, as all the world knows, you have done your best, and I thank +you: but our account ends there. The treasure is yours, sir; I have +enough, and more than enough, and none, God help me, to leave it to, but +greedy and needy kin, who will be rather the worse than the better for +it. And if I have a claim in law for aught--which I know not, neither +shall ever ask--why, if you are not too proud, accept that claim as a +plain burgher's thank-offering to you, sir, for a great and a noble love +which you and your brother have shown to one who, though I say it, to my +shame, was not worthy thereof.” + +“She was worthy of that and more, sir. For if she sinned like a woman, +she died like a saint.” + +“Yes, sir!” answered the old man, with a proud smile; “she had the right +English blood in her, I doubt not; and showed it at the last. But now, +sir, no more of this. When you need a ship, mine is at your service; +till then, sir, farewell, and God be with you.” + +And the old man rose, and with an unmoved countenance, bowed Amyas +to the door. Amyas went back and told Cary, bidding him take half of +Salterne's gift: but Cary swore a great oath that he would have none of +it. + +“Heir of Clovelly, Amyas, and want to rob you? I who have lost +nothing,--you who have lost a brother! God forbid that I should ever +touch a farthing beyond my original share!” + +That evening a messenger from Bideford came running breathless up to +Burrough Court. The authorities wanted Amyas's immediate attendance, for +he was one of the last, it seemed, who had seen Mr. Salterne alive. + +Salterne had gone over, as soon as Amyas departed, to an old +acquaintance; signed and sealed his will in their presence with a firm +and cheerful countenance, refusing all condolence; and then gone home, +and locked himself into Rose's room. Supper-time came, and he did not +appear. The apprentices could not make him answer, and at last called +in the neighbors, and forced the door. Salterne was kneeling by his +daughter's bed; his head was upon the coverlet; his Prayer-book was +open before him at the Burial Service; his hands were clasped in +supplication; but he was dead and cold. + +His will lay by him. He had left all his property among his poor +relations, saving and excepting all money, etc., due to him as owner and +part-adventurer of the ship Rose, and his new bark of three hundred tons +burden, now lying East-the-water; all which was bequeathed to Captain +Amyas Leigh, on condition that he should re-christen that bark the +Vengeance,--fit her out with part of the treasure, and with her sail +once more against the Spaniard, before three years were past. + +And this was the end of William Salterne, merchant. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +HOW THE VIRGINIA FLEET WAS STOPPED BY THE QUEEN'S COMMAND + + “The daughter of debate, + That discord still doth sow, + Shall reap no gain where former rule + Hath taught still peace to grow. + No foreign banish'd wight + Shall anker in this port + Our realm it brooks no stranger's force; + Let them elsewhere resort.” + + QU. ELIZABETH. 1569. + +And now Amyas is settled quietly at home again; and for the next twelve +months little passes worthy of record in these pages. Yeo has installed +himself as major domo, with no very definite functions, save those of +walking about everywhere at Amyas's heels like a lank gray wolf-hound, +and spending his evenings at the fireside, as a true old sailor +does, with his Bible on his knee, and his hands busy in manufacturing +numberless nicknacks, useful and useless, for every member of the +family, and above all for Ayacanora, whom he insults every week by +humbly offering some toy only fit for a child; at which she pouts, and +is reproved by Mrs. Leigh, and then takes the gift, and puts it away +never to look at it again. For her whole soul is set upon being +an English maid; and she runs about all day long after Mrs. Leigh, +insisting upon learning the mysteries of the kitchen and the still-room, +and, above all, the art of making clothes for herself, and at last for +everybody in Northam. For first, she will be a good housewife, like Mrs. +Leigh; and next a new idea has dawned on her: that of helping others. +To the boundless hospitality of the savage she has been of course +accustomed: but to give to those who can give nothing in return, is a +new thought. She sees Mrs. Leigh spending every spare hour in working +for the poor, and visiting them in their cottages. She sees Amyas, after +public thanks in church for his safe return, giving away money, food, +what not, in Northam, Appledore, and Bideford; buying cottages and +making them almshouses for worn-out mariners; and she is told that +this is his thank-offering to God. She is puzzled; her notion of +a thank-offering was rather that of the Indians, and indeed of the +Spaniards,--sacrifices of human victims, and the bedizenment of the +Great Spirit's sanctuary with their skulls and bones. Not that Amyas, +as a plain old-fashioned churchman, was unmindful of the good old +instinctive rule, that something should be given to the Church itself; +for the vicar of Northam was soon resplendent with a new surplice, and +what was more, the altar with a splendid flagon and salver of plate +(lost, I suppose, in the civil wars) which had been taken in the great +galleon. Ayacanora could understand that: but the almsgiving she could +not, till Mrs. Leigh told her, in her simple way, that whosoever gave +to the poor, gave to the Great Spirit; for the Great Spirit was in them, +and in Ayacanora too, if she would be quiet and listen to him, instead +of pouting, and stamping, and doing nothing but what she liked. And the +poor child took in that new thought like a child, and worked her fingers +to the bone for all the old dames in Northam, and went about with Mrs. +Leigh, lovely and beloved, and looked now and then out from under her +long black eyelashes to see if she was winning a smile from Amyas. And +on the day on which she won one, she was good all day; and on the day on +which she did not, she was thoroughly naughty, and would have worn out +the patience of any soul less chastened than Mrs. Leigh's. But as for +the pomp and glory of her dress, there was no keeping it within bounds; +and she swept into church each Sunday bedizened in Spanish finery, with +such a blaze and rustle, that the good vicar had to remonstrate humbly +with Mrs. Leigh on the disturbance which she caused to the eyes and +thoughts of all his congregation. To which Ayacanora answered, that she +was not thinking about them, and they need not think about her; and that +if the Piache (in plain English, the conjuror), as she supposed, wanted +a present, he might have all her Mexican feather-dresses; she would +not wear them--they were wild Indian things, and she was an English +maid--but they would just do for a Piache; and so darted upstairs, +brought them down, and insisted so stoutly on arraying the vicar +therein, that the good man beat a swift retreat. But he carried off +with him, nevertheless, one of the handsomest mantles, which, instead +of selling it, he converted cleverly enough into an altar-cloth; and for +several years afterwards, the communion at Northam was celebrated upon a +blaze of emerald, azure, and crimson, which had once adorned the sinful +body of some Aztec prince. + +So Ayacanora flaunted on; while Amyas watched her, half amused, half in +simple pride of her beauty; and looked around at all gazers, as much as +to say, “See what a fine bird I have brought home!” + +Another great trouble which she gave Mrs. Leigh was her conduct to the +ladies of the neighborhood. They came, of course, one and all, not only +to congratulate Mrs. Leigh, but to get a peep at the fair savage; but +the fair savage snubbed them all round, from the vicar's wife to Lady +Grenville herself, so effectually, that few attempted a second visit. + +Mrs. Leigh remonstrated, and was answered by floods of tears. “They only +come to stare at a poor wild Indian girl, and she would not be made a +show of. She was like a queen once, and every one obeyed her; but here +every one looked down upon her.” But when Mrs. Leigh asked her, whether +she would sooner go back to the forests, the poor girl clung to her like +a baby, and entreated not to be sent away, “She would sooner be a slave +in the kitchen here, than go back to the bad people.” + +And so on, month after month of foolish storm and foolish sunshine; but +she was under the shadow of one in whom was neither storm nor sunshine, +but a perpetual genial calm of soft gray weather, which tempered down +to its own peacefulness all who entered its charmed influence; and the +outbursts grew more and more rare, and Ayacanora more and more rational, +though no more happy, day by day. + +And one by one small hints came out which made her identity certain, at +least in the eyes of Mrs. Leigh and Yeo. After she had become familiar +with the sight of houses, she gave them to understand that she had seen +such things before. The red cattle, too, seemed not unknown to her; +the sheep puzzled her for some time, and at last she gave Mrs. Leigh to +understand that they were too small. + +“Ah, madam,” quoth Yeo, who caught at every straw, “it is because she +has been accustomed to those great camel sheep (llamas they call them) +in Peru.” + +But Ayacanora's delight was a horse. The use of tame animals at all was +a daily wonder to her; but that a horse could be ridden was the crowning +miracle of all; and a horse she would ride, and after plaguing Amyas for +one in vain (for he did not want to break her pretty neck), she proposed +confidentially to Yeo to steal one, and foiled in that, went to the +vicar and offered to barter all her finery for his broken-kneed pony. +But the vicar was too honest to drive so good a bargain, and the matter +ended, in Amyas buying her a jennet, which she learned in a fortnight to +ride like a very Gaucho. + +And now awoke another curious slumbering reminiscence. For one day, at +Lady Grenville's invitation, the whole family went over to Stow; Mrs. +Leigh soberly on a pillion behind the groom, Ayacanora cantering round +and round upon the moors like a hound let loose, and trying to make +Amyas ride races with her. But that night, sleeping in the same room +with Mrs. Leigh, she awoke shrieking, and sobbed out a long story how +the “Old ape of Panama,” her especial abomination, had come to her +bedside and dragged her forth into the courtyard, and how she had +mounted a horse and ridden with an Indian over great moors and high +mountains down into a dark wood, and there the Indian and the horses +vanished, and she found herself suddenly changed once more into a +little savage child. So strong was the impression, that she could not be +persuaded that the thing had not happened, if not that night, at least +some night or other. So Mrs. Leigh at last believed the same, and told +the company next morning in her pious way how the Lord had revealed in +a vision to the poor child who she was, and how she had been exposed in +the forests by her jealous step-father, and neither Sir Richard nor his +wife could doubt but that hers was the true solution. It was probable +that Don Xararte, though his home was Panama, had been often at Quito, +for Yeo had seen him come on board the Lima ship at Guayaquil, one +of the nearest ports. This would explain her having been found by the +Indians beyond Cotopaxi, the nearest peak of the Eastern Andes, if, as +was but too likely, the old man, believing her to be Oxenham's child, +had conceived the fearful vengeance of exposing her in the forests. + +Other little facts came to light one by one. They were all connected +(as was natural in a savage) with some animal or other natural object. +Whatever impressions her morals or affections had received, had been +erased by the long spiritual death of that forest sojourn; and Mrs. +Leigh could not elicit from her a trace of feeling about her mother, or +recollection of any early religious teaching. This link, however, was +supplied at last, and in this way. + +Sir Richard had brought home an Indian with him from Virginia. Of his +original name I am not sure, but he was probably the “Wanchese” whose +name occurs with that of “Manteo.” + +This man was to be baptized in the church at Bideford by the name of +Raleigh, his sponsors being most probably Raleigh himself, who may have +been there on Virginian business, and Sir Richard Grenville. All the +notabilities of Bideford came, of course, to see the baptism of the +first “Red man” whose foot had ever trodden British soil, and the mayor +and corporation-men appeared in full robes, with maces and tipstaffs, to +do honor to that first-fruits of the Gospel in the West. + +Mrs. Leigh went, as a matter of course, and Ayacanora would needs go +too. She was very anxious to know what they were going to do with the +“Carib.” + +“To make him a Christian.” + +“Why did they not make her one?” + +Because she was one already. They were sure that she had been christened +as soon as she was born. But she was not sure, and pouted a good deal +at the chance of an “ugly red Carib” being better off than she was. +However, all assembled duly; the stately son of the forest, now +transformed into a footman of Sir Richard's, was standing at the font; +the service was half performed when a heavy sigh, or rather groan, made +all eyes turn, and Ayacanora sank fainting upon Mrs. Leigh's bosom. + +She was carried out, and to a neighboring house; and when she came to +herself, told a strange story. How, as she was standing there trying to +recollect whether she too had ever been baptized, the church seemed +to grow larger, the priest's dress richer; the walls were covered with +pictures, and above the altar, in jewelled robes, stood a lady, and in +her arms a babe. Soft music sounded in her ears; the air was full (on +that she insisted much) of fragrant odor which filled the church like +mist; and through it she saw not one, but many Indians, standing by the +font; and a lady held her by the hand, and she was a little girl again. + +And after, many questionings, so accurate was her recollection, not only +of the scene, but of the building, that Yeo pronounced: + +“A christened woman she is, madam, if Popish christening is worth +calling such, and has seen Indians christened too in the Cathedral +Church at Quito, the inside whereof I know well enough, and too well, +for I sat there three mortal hours in a San Benito, to hear a friar +preach his false doctrines, not knowing whether I was to be burnt or not +next day.” + +So Ayacanora went home to Burrough, and Raleigh the Indian to +Sir Richard's house. The entry of his baptism still stands, +crooked-lettered, in the old parchment register of the Bideford baptisms +for 1587-3: + + “Raleigh, a Winganditoian: March 26.” + +His name occurs once more, a year and a month after: + + “Rawly, a Winganditoian, April 1589.” + +But it is not this time among the baptisms. The free forest wanderer has +pined in vain for his old deer-hunts amid the fragrant cedar woods, +and lazy paddlings through the still lagoons, where water-lilies sleep +beneath the shade of great magnolias, wreathed with clustered vines; and +now he is away to “happier hunting-grounds,” and all that is left of +him below sleeps in the narrow town churchyard, blocked in with dingy +houses, whose tenants will never waste a sigh upon the Indian's grave. +There the two entries stand, unto this day; and most pathetic they have +seemed to me; a sort of emblem and first-fruits of the sad fate of that +worn-out Red race, to whom civilization came too late to save, but not +too late to hasten their decay. + +But though Amyas lay idle, England did not. That spring saw another and +a larger colony sent out by Raleigh to Virginia, under the charge of one +John White. Raleigh had written more than once, entreating Amyas to take +the command, which if he had done, perhaps the United States had begun +to exist twenty years sooner than they actually did. But his mother had +bound him by a solemn promise (and who can wonder at her for asking, or +at him for giving it?) to wait at home with her twelve months at least. +So, instead of himself, he sent five hundred pounds, which I suppose +are in Virginia (virtually at least) until this day; for they never came +back again to him. + +But soon came a sharper trial of Amyas's promise to his mother; and +one which made him, for the first time in his life, moody, peevish, and +restless, at the thought that others were fighting Spaniards, while +he was sitting idle at home. For his whole soul was filling fast with +sullen malice against Don Guzman. He was losing the “single eye,” and +his whole body was no longer full of light. He had entered into the +darkness in which every man walks who hates his brother; and it lay upon +him like a black shadow day and night. No company, too, could be more +fit to darken that shadow than Salvation Yeo's. The old man grew more +stern in his fanaticism day by day, and found a too willing listener in +his master; and Mrs. Leigh was (perhaps for the first and last time +in her life) seriously angry, when she heard the two coolly debating +whether they had not committed a grievous sin in not killing the Spanish +prisoners on board the galleon. + +It must be said, however (as the plain facts set down in this book +testify), that if such was the temper of Englishmen at that day, +the Spaniards had done a good deal to provoke it; and were just then +attempting to do still more. + +For now we are approaching the year 1588, “which an astronomer of +Konigsberg, above a hundred years before, foretold would be an admirable +year, and the German chronologers presaged would be the climacterical +year of the world.” + +The prophecies may stand for what they are worth; but they were at least +fulfilled. That year was, indeed, the climacterical year of the world; +and decided once and for all the fortunes of the European nations, and +of the whole continent of America. + +No wonder, then, if (as has happened in each great crisis of the human +race) some awful instinct that The Day of the Lord was at hand, some dim +feeling that there was war in heaven, and that the fiends of darkness +and the angels of light were arrayed against each other in some mighty +struggle for the possession of the souls of men, should have tried +to express itself in astrologic dreams, and, as was the fashion then, +attributed to the “rulers of the planetary houses” some sympathy with +the coming world-tragedy. + +But, for the wise, there needed no conjunction of planets to tell them +that the day was near at hand, when the long desultory duel between +Spain and England would end, once and for all, in some great +death-grapple. The war, as yet, had been confined to the Netherlands, to +the West Indies, and the coasts and isles of Africa; to the quarters, +in fact, where Spain was held either to have no rights, or to have +forfeited them by tyranny. But Spain itself had been respected by +England, as England had by Spain; and trade to Spanish ports went on as +usual, till, in the year 1585, the Spaniard, without warning, laid an +embargo on all English ships coming to his European shores. They were to +be seized, it seemed, to form part of an enormous armament, which was to +attack and crush, once and for all--whom? The rebellious Netherlanders, +said the Spaniards: but the queen, the ministry, and, when it was just +not too late, the people of England, thought otherwise. England was the +destined victim; so, instead of negotiating, in order to avoid fighting, +they fought in order to produce negotiation. Drake, Frobisher, and +Carlisle, as we have seen, swept the Spanish Main with fire and sword, +stopping the Indian supplies; while Walsingham (craftiest, and yet most +honest of mortals) prevented, by some mysterious financial operation, +the Venetian merchants from repairing the Spaniards' loss by a loan; and +no Armada came that year. + +In the meanwhile, the Jesuits, here and abroad, made no secret, among +their own dupes, of the real objects of the Spanish armament. The +impious heretics,--the Drakes and Raleighs, Grenvilles and Cavendishes, +Hawkinses and Frobishers, who had dared to violate that hidden sanctuary +of just half the globe, which the pope had bestowed on the defender of +the true faith,--a shameful ruin, a terrible death awaited them, when +their sacrilegious barks should sink beneath the thunder of Spanish +cannon, blessed by the pope, and sanctified with holy water and prayer +to the service of “God and his Mother.” Yes, they would fall, and +England with them. The proud islanders, who had dared to rebel against +St. Peter, and to cast off the worship of “Mary,” should bow their +necks once more under the yoke of the Gospel. Their so-called queen, +illegitimate, excommunicate, contumacious, the abettor of free-trade, +the defender of the Netherlands, the pillar of false doctrine throughout +Europe, should be sent in chains across the Alps, to sue for her life at +the feet of the injured and long-suffering father of mankind, while +his nominee took her place upon the throne which she had long since +forfeited by her heresy. + +“What nobler work? How could the Church of God be more gloriously +propagated? How could higher merit be obtained by faithful Catholics? +It must succeed. Spain was invincible in valor, inexhaustible in wealth. +Heaven itself offered them an opportunity. They had nothing now to fear +from the Turk, for they had concluded a truce with him; nothing from the +French, for they were embroiled in civil war. The heavens themselves +had called upon Spain to fulfil her heavenly mission, and restore to +the Church's crown this brightest and richest of her lost jewels. The +heavens themselves called to a new crusade. The saints, whose altars +the English had rifled and profaned, called them to a new crusade. The +Virgin Queen of Heaven, whose boundless stores of grace the English +spurned, called them to a new crusade. Justly incensed at her own wrongs +and indignities, that 'ever-gracious Virgin, refuge of sinners, and +mother of fair love, and holy hope,' adjured by their knightly honor all +valiant cavaliers to do battle in her cause against the impious harlot +who assumed her titles, received from her idolatrous flatterers the +homage due to Mary alone, and even (for Father Parsons had asserted it, +therefore it must be true) had caused her name to be substituted for +that of Mary in the Litanies of the Church. Let all who wore within a +manly heart, without a manly sword, look on the woes of 'Mary,'--her +shame, her tears, her blushes, her heart pierced through with daily +wounds, from heretic tongues, and choose between her and Elizabeth!” + +So said Parsons, Allen, and dozens more; and said more than this, too, +and much which one had rather not repeat; and were somewhat surprised +and mortified to find that their hearers, though they granted the +premises, were too dull or carnal to arrive at the same conclusion. The +English lay Romanists, almost to a man, had hearts sounder than their +heads, and, howsoever illogically, could not help holding to the strange +superstition that, being Englishmen, they were bound to fight for +England. So the hapless Jesuits, who had been boasting for years past +that the persecuted faithful throughout the island would rise as one man +to fight under the blessed banner of the pope and Spain, found that the +faithful, like Demas of old, forsook them and “went after this present +world;” having no objection, of course, to the restoration of Popery: +but preferring some more comfortable method than an invasion which would +inevitably rob them of their ancestral lands and would seat needy and +greedy Castilians in their old country houses, to treat their tenants as +they had treated the Indians of Hispaniola, and them as they had treated +the caciques. + +But though the hearts of men in that ungodly age were too hard to melt +at the supposed woes of the Mary who reigned above, and too dull to turn +rebels and traitors for the sake of those thrones and principalities in +supra-lunar spheres which might be in her gift: yet there was a Mary +who reigned (or ought to reign) below, whose woes (like her gifts) were +somewhat more palpable to the carnal sense. A Mary who, having every +comfort and luxury (including hounds and horses) found for her by the +English Government, at an expense which would be now equal to some +twenty thousand a year, could afford to employ the whole of her jointure +as Queen Dowager of France (probably equal to fifty thousand a year +more), in plotting the destruction of the said government, and the +murder of its queen; a Mary who, if she prospered as she ought, might +have dukedoms, and earldoms, fair lands and castles to bestow on her +faithful servants; a Mary, finally, who contrived by means of an angel +face, a serpent tongue, and a heart (as she said herself) as hard as +a diamond, to make every weak man fall in love with her, and, what was +worse, fancy more or less that she was in love with him. + +Of her the Jesuits were not unmindful; and found it convenient, indeed, +to forget awhile the sorrows of the Queen of Heaven in those of the +Queen of Scots. Not that they cared much for those sorrows; but they +were an excellent stock-in-trade. She was a Romanist; she was “beautiful +and unfortunate,” a virtue which, like charity, hides the multitude of +sins; and therefore she was a convenient card to play in the great game +of Rome against the Queen and people of England; and played the poor +card was, till it got torn up by over-using. Into her merits or demerits +I do not enter deeply here. Let her rest in peace. + +To all which the people of England made a most practical and terrible +answer. From the highest noble to the lowest peasant, arose one +simultaneous plebiscitum: “We are tired of these seventeen years of +chicanery and terror. This woman must die: or the commonweal of England +perish!” We all know which of the two alternatives was chosen. + +All Europe stood aghast: but rather with astonishment at English +audacity, than with horror at English wickedness. Mary's own French +kinsfolk had openly given her up as too bad to be excused, much less +assisted. Her own son blustered a little to the English ambassador; +for the majesty of kings was invaded: whereon Walsingham said in open +council, that “the queen should send him a couple of hounds, and that +would set all right.” Which sage advice (being acted on, and some deer +sent over and above) was so successful that the pious mourner, having +run off (Randolph says, like a baby to see the deer in their cart), +returned for answer that he would “thereafter depend wholly upon her +majesty, and serve her fortune against all the world; and that he only +wanted now two of her majesty's yeoman prickers, and a couple of her +grooms of the deer.” The Spaniard was not sorry on the whole for the +catastrophe; for all that had kept him from conquering England long ago +was the fear lest, after it was done, he might have had to put the crown +thereof on Mary's head, instead of his own. But Mary's death was as +convenient a stalking-horse to him as to the pope; and now the Armada +was coming in earnest. + +Elizabeth began negotiating; but fancy not that she does nothing more, +as the following letter testifies, written about midsummer, 1587. + + +“F. Drake to Captain Amyas Leigh. This with haste. + +“DEAR LAD, + +“As I said to her most glorious majesty, I say to you now. There are two +ways of facing an enemy. The one to stand off, and cry, 'Try that again, +and I'll strike thee'; the other to strike him first, and then, 'Try +that at all, and I'll strike thee again.' Of which latter counsel her +majesty so far approves, that I go forthwith (tell it not in Gath) down +the coast, to singe the king of Spain's beard (so I termed it to her +majesty, she laughing), in which if I leave so much as a fishing-boat +afloat from the Groyne unto Cadiz, it will not be with my good will, who +intend that if he come this year, he shall come by swimming and not by +sailing. So if you are still the man I have known you, bring a good ship +round to Plymouth within the month, and away with me for hard blows and +hard money, the feel of both of which you know pretty well by now. + +“Thine lovingly, + +“F. Drake.” + + +Amyas clutched his locks over this letter, and smoked more tobacco the +day he got it than had ever before been consumed at once in England. But +he kept true to his promise; and this was his reply:-- + + + +“Amyas Leigh to the Worshipful Sir F. Drake, Admiral of her Majesty's +Fleet in Plymouth. + +“MOST HONORED SIR, + +“A magician keeps me here, in bilboes for which you have no picklock; +namely, a mother who forbids. The loss is mine: but Antichrist I can +fight any year (for he will not die this bout, nor the next), while my +mother--but I will not trouble your patience more than to ask from you +to get me news, if you can, from any prisoners of one Don Guzman Maria +Magdalena Sotomayor de Soto; whether he is in Spain or in the Indies; +and what the villain does, and where he is to be found. This only I +entreat of you, and so remain behind with a heavy heart. + +“Yours to command in all else, and I would to Heaven, in this also, + +“AMYAS LEIGH.” + + +I am sorry to have to say, that after having thus obeyed his mother, +Master Amyas, as men are too apt to do, revenged himself on her by being +more and more cross and disagreeable. But his temper amended much, +when, a few months after, Drake returned triumphant, having destroyed +a hundred sail in Cadiz alone, taken three great galleons with immense +wealth on board, burnt the small craft all along the shore, and offered +battle to Santa Cruz at the mouth of the Tagus. After which it is +unnecessary to say, that the Armada was put off for yet another year. + +This news, indeed, gave Amyas little comfort; for he merely observed, +grumbling, that Drake had gone and spoiled everybody else's sport: but +what cheered him was news from Drake that Don Guzman had been heard of +from the captain of one of the galleons; that he was high in favor in +Spain, and commandant of soldiers on board one of the largest of the +marquis's ships. + +And when Amyas heard that, a terrible joy took possession of him. When +the Armada came, as come it would, he should meet his enemy at last! He +could wait now patiently: if--and he shuddered at himself, as he found +himself in the very act of breathing a prayer that Don Guzman might not +die before that meeting. + +In the meanwhile, rumor flew thousand-tongued through the length and +breadth of the land; of vast preparations going on in Spain and Italy; +of timber felled long before for some such purpose, brought down to the +sea, and sawn out for shipbuilding; of casting of cannon, and drilling +of soldiers; of ships in hundreds collecting at Lisbon; of a crusade +preached by Pope Sixtus the Fifth, who had bestowed the kingdom of +England on the Spaniard, to be enjoyed by him as vassal tributary to +Rome; of a million of gold to be paid by the pope, one-half down at +once, the other half when London was taken; of Cardinal Allen writing +and printing busily in the Netherlands, calling on all good Englishmen +to carry out, by rebelling against Elizabeth, the bull of Sixtus the +Fifth, said (I blush to repeat it) to have been dictated by the Holy +Ghost; of Inquisitors getting ready fetters and devil's engines of all +sorts; of princes and noblemen, flocking from all quarters, gentlemen +selling their private estates to fit out ships; how the Prince of +Melito, the Marquess of Burgrave, Vespasian Gonzaga, John Medicis, +Amadas of Savoy, in short, the illegitimate sons of all the southern +princes, having no lands of their own, were coming to find that +necessary of life in this pleasant little wheat-garden. Nay, the Duke of +Medina Sidonia had already engaged Mount-Edgecombe for himself, as the +fairest jewel of the south; which when good old Sir Richard Edgecombe +heard, he observed quietly, that in 1555 he had the pleasure of +receiving at his table at one time the admirals of England, Spain, and +the Netherlands, and therefore had experience in entertaining Dons; and +made preparations for the visit by filling his cellars with gunpowder, +with a view to a house-warming and feu-de-joie on the occasion. But as +old Fuller says, “The bear was not yet killed, and Medina Sidonia might +have catched a great cold, had he no other clothes to wear than the skin +thereof.” + +So flew rumor, false and true, till poor John Bull's wits were well-nigh +turned: but to the very last, after his lazy fashion, he persuaded +himself that it would all come right somehow; that it was too great news +to be true; that if it was true, the expedition was only meant for the +Netherlands; and, in short, sat quietly over his beef and beer for many +a day after the French king had sent him fair warning, and the queen, +the ministry, and the admirals had been assuring him again and again +that he, and not the Dutchman, was the destined prey of this great +flight of ravenous birds. + +At last the Spaniard, in order that there should be no mistake about the +matter, kindly printed a complete bill of the play, to be seen still in +Van Meteran, for the comfort of all true Catholics, and confusion of all +pestilent heretics; which document, of course, the seminary priests used +to enforce the duty of helping the invaders, and the certainty of their +success; and from their hands it soon passed into those of the devout +ladies, who were not very likely to keep it to themselves; till John +Bull himself found his daughters buzzing over it with very pale faces +(as young ladies well might who had no wish to follow the fate of +the damsels of Antwerp), and condescending to run his eye through it, +discovered, what all the rest of Europe had known for months past, that +he was in a very great scrape. + +Well it was for England, then, that her Tudor sovereigns had compelled +every man (though they kept up no standing army) to be a trained +soldier. Well it was that Elizabeth, even in those dangerous days of +intrigue and rebellion, had trusted her people enough, not only to leave +them their weapons, but (what we, forsooth, in these more “free” and +“liberal” days dare not do) to teach them how to use them. Well it +was, that by careful legislation for the comfort and employment of “the +masses” (term then, thank God, unknown), she had both won their hearts, +and kept their bodies in fighting order. Well it was that, acting as +fully as Napoleon did on “la carriere ouverte aux talens,” she had +raised to the highest posts in her councils, her army, and her navy, men +of business, who had not been ashamed to buy and sell as merchants and +adventurers. Well for England, in a word, that Elizabeth had pursued +for thirty years a very different course from that which we have been +pursuing for the last thirty, with one exception, namely, the leaving as +much as possible to private enterprise. + +There we have copied her: would to Heaven that we had in some other +matters! It is the fashion now to call her a despot: but unless every +monarch is to be branded with that epithet whose power is not as +circumscribed as Queen Victoria's is now, we ought rather to call her +the most popular sovereign, obeyed of their own free will by the freest +subjects which England has ever seen; confess the Armada fight to have +been as great a moral triumph as it was a political one; and (now that +our late boasting is a little silenced by Crimean disasters) inquire +whether we have not something to learn from those old Tudor times, as +to how to choose officials, how to train a people, and how to defend a +country. + +To return to the thread of my story. + +January, 1587-8, had well-nigh run through, before Sir Richard Grenville +made his appearance on the streets of Bideford. He had been appointed in +November one of the council of war for providing for the safety of the +nation, and the West Country had seen nothing of him since. But one +morning, just before Christmas, his stately figure darkened the old +bay-window at Burrough, and Amyas rushed out to meet him, and bring him +in, and ask what news from Court. + +“All good news, dear lad, and dearer madam. The queen shows the spirit +of a very Boadicea or Semiramis; ay, a very Scythian Tomyris, and if she +had the Spaniard before her now, would verily, for aught I know, feast +him as the Scythian queen did Cyrus, with 'Satia te sanguine, quod +sitisti.'” + +“I trust her most merciful spirit is not so changed already,” said Mrs. +Leigh. + +“Well, if she would not do it, I would, and ask pardon afterwards, as +Raleigh did about the rascals at Smerwick, whom Amyas knows of. Mrs. +Leigh, these are times in which mercy is cruelty. Not England alone, +but the world, the Bible, the Gospel itself, is at stake; and we must do +terrible things, lest we suffer more terrible ones.” + +“God will take care of world and Bible better than any cruelty of ours, +dear Sir Richard.” + +“Nay, but, Mrs. Leigh, we must help Him to take care of them! If those +Smerwick Spaniards had not been--” + +“The Spaniard would not have been exasperated into invading us.” + +“And we should not have had this chance of crushing him once and for +all; but the quarrel is of older standing, madam, eh, Amyas? Amyas, has +Raleigh written to you of late?” + +“Not a word, and I wonder why.” + +“Well; no wonder at that, if you knew how he has been laboring. The +wonder is, whence he got the knowledge wherewith to labor; for he never +saw sea-work to my remembrance.” + +“Never saw a shot fired by sea, except ours at Smerwick, and that +brush with the Spaniards in 1579, when he sailed for Virginia with Sir +Humphrey; and he was a mere crack then.” + +“So you consider him as your pupil, eh? But he learnt enough in the +Netherland wars, and in Ireland too, if not of the strength of ships, +yet still of the weakness of land forces; and would you believe it, the +man has twisted the whole council round his finger, and made them give +up the land defences to the naval ones.” + +“Quite right he, and wooden walls against stone ones for ever! But as +for twisting, he would persuade Satan, if he got him alone for half an +hour.” + +“I wish he would sail for Spain then, just now, and try the powers of +his tongue,” said Mrs. Leigh. + +“But are we to have the honor, really?” + +“We are, lad. There were many in the council who were for disputing the +landing on shore, and said--which I do not deny--that the 'prentice +boys of London could face the bluest blood in Spain. But Raleigh argued +(following my Lord Burleigh in that) that we differed from the Low +Countries, and all other lands, in that we had not a castle or town +throughout, which would stand a ten days' siege, and that our ramparts, +as he well said, were, after all, only a body of men. So, he argued, as +long as the enemy has power to land where he will, prevention, rather +than cure, is our only hope; and that belongs to the office, not of an +army, but of a fleet. So the fleet was agreed on, and a fleet we shall +have.” + +“Then here is his health, the health of a true friend to all bold +mariners, and myself in particular! But where is he now?” + +“Coming here to-morrow, as I hope--for he left London with me, and so +down by us into Cornwall, to drill the train-bands, as he is bound +to do, being Seneschal of the Duchies and Lieutenant-General of the +county.” + +“Besides Lord Warden of the Stanneries! How the man thrives!” said Mrs. +Leigh. + +“How the man deserves to thrive!” said Amyas; “but what are we to do?” + +“That is the rub. I would fain stay and fight the Spaniards.” + +“So would I; and will.” + +“But he has other plans in his head for us.” + +“We can make our own plans without his help.” + +“Heyday, Amyas! How long? When did he ask you to do a thing yet and you +refuse him?” + +“Not often, certainly; but Spaniards I must fight.” + +“Well, so must I, boy: but I have given a sort of promise to him, +nevertheless.” + +“Not for me too, I hope?” + +“No: he will extract that himself when he comes; you must come and sup +to-morrow, and talk it over.” + +“Be talked over, rather. What chestnut does the cat want us monkeys to +pull out of the fire for him now, I wonder?” + +“Sir Richard Grenville is hardly accustomed to be called a monkey,” said +Mrs. Leigh. + +“I meant no harm; and his worship knows it, none better: but where is +Raleigh going to send us, with a murrain?” + +“To Virginia. The settlers must have help: and, as I trust in God, we +shall be back again long before this armament can bestir itself.” + +So Raleigh came, saw, and conquered. Mrs. Leigh consented to Amyas's +going (for his twelve-month would be over ere the fleet could start) +upon so peaceful and useful an errand; and the next five months were +spent in continual labor on the part of Amyas and Grenville, till seven +ships were all but ready in Bideford river, the admiral whereof was +Amyas Leigh. + +But that fleet was not destined ever to see the shores of the New World: +it had nobler work to do (if Americans will forgive the speech) than +even settling the United States. + +It was in the long June evenings, in the year 1588; Mrs. Leigh sat in +the open window, busy at her needle-work; Ayacanora sat opposite to her, +on the seat of the bay, trying diligently to read “The History of the +Nine Worthies,” and stealing a glance every now and then towards the +garden, where Amyas stalked up and down as he had used to do in happier +days gone by. But his brow was contracted now, his eyes fixed on the +ground, as he plodded backwards and forwards, his hands behind his back, +and a huge cigar in his mouth, the wonder of the little boys of Northam, +who peeped in stealthily as they passed the iron-work gates, to see the +back of the famous fire-breathing captain who had sailed round the world +and been in the country of headless men and flying dragons, and then +popped back their heads suddenly, as he turned toward them in his walk. +And Ayacanora looked, and looked, with no less admiration than the +urchins at the gate: but she got no more of an answering look from Amyas +than they did; for his head was full of calculations of tonnage and +stowage, of salt pork and ale-barrels, and the packing of tools and +seeds; for he had promised Raleigh to do his best for the new colony, +and he was doing it with all his might; so Ayacanora looked back again +to her book, and heaved a deep sigh. It was answered by one from Mrs. +Leigh. + +“We are a melancholy pair, sweet chuck,” said the fair widow. “What is +my maid sighing about, there?” + +“Because I cannot make out the long words,” said Ayacanora, telling a +very white fib. + +“Is that all? Come to me, and I will tell you.” + +Ayacanora moved over to her, and sat down at her feet. + +“H--e, he, r--o, ro, i--c--a--l, heroical,” said Mrs. Leigh. + +“But what does that mean?” + +“Grand, good, and brave, like--” + +Mrs. Leigh was about to have said the name of one who was lost to her +on earth. His fair angelic face hung opposite upon the wall. She paused +unable to pronounce his name; and lifted up her eyes, and gazed on the +portrait, and breathed a prayer between closed lips, and drooped her +head again. + +Her pupil caught at the pause, and filled it up for herself-- + +“Like him?” and she turned her head quickly toward the window. + +“Yes, like him, too,” said Mrs. Leigh, with a half-smile at the gesture. +“Now, mind your book. Maidens must not look out of the window in school +hours.” + +“Shall I ever be an English girl?” asked Ayacanora. + +“You are one now, sweet; your father was an English gentleman.” + +Amyas looked in, and saw the two sitting together. + +“You seem quite merry there,” said he. + +“Come in, then, and be merry with us.” + +He entered, and sat down; while Ayacanora fixed her eyes most +steadfastly on her book. + +“Well, how goes on the reading?” said he; and then, without waiting for +an answer--“We shall be ready to clear out this day week, mother, I do +believe; that is, if the hatchets are made in time to pack them.” + +“I hope they will be better than the last,” said Mrs. Leigh. “It seems +to me a shameful sin to palm off on poor ignorant savages goods which we +should consider worthless for ourselves.” + +“Well, it's not over fair: but still, they are a sight better than they +ever had before. An old hoop is better than a deer's bone, as Ayacanora +knows,--eh?” + +“I don't know anything about it,” said she, who was always nettled at +the least allusion to her past wild life. “I am an English girl now, and +all that is gone--I forget it.” + +“Forget it?” said he, teasing her for want of something better to do. +“Should not you like to sail with us, now, and see the Indians in the +forests once again?” + +“Sail with you?” and she looked up eagerly. + +“There! I knew it! She would not be four-and-twenty hours ashore, but +she would be off into the woods again, bow in hand, like any runaway +nymph, and we should never see her more.” + +“It is false, bad man!” and she burst into violent tears, and hid her +face in Mrs. Leigh's lap. + +“Amyas, Amyas, why do you tease the poor fatherless thing?” + +“I was only jesting, I'm sure,” said Amyas, like a repentant schoolboy. +“Don't cry now, don't cry, my child, see here,” and he began fumbling in +his pockets; “see what I bought of a chapman in town to-day, for you, my +maid, indeed, I did.” + +And out he pulled some smart kerchief or other, which had taken his +sailor's fancy. + +“Look at it now, blue, and crimson, and green, like any parrot!” and he +held it out. + +She looked round sharply, snatched it out of his hand, and tore it to +shreds. + +“I hate it, and I hate you!” and she sprang up and darted out of the +room. + +“Oh, boy, boy!” said Mrs. Leigh, “will you kill that poor child? It +matters little for an old heart like mine, which has but one or two +chords left whole, how soon it be broken altogether; but a young heart +is one of God's precious treasures, Amyas, and suffers many a long pang +in the breaking; and woe to them who despise Christ's little ones!” + +“Break your heart, mother?” + +“Never mind my heart, dear son; yet how can you break it more surely +than by tormenting one whom I love, because she loves you?” + +“Tut! play, mother, and maids' tempers. But how can I break your heart? +What have I done? Have I not given up going again to the West Indies for +your sake? Have I not given up going to Virginia, and now again settled +to go after all, just because you commanded? Was it not your will? Have +I not obeyed you, mother, mother? I will stay at home now, if you will. +I would rather rust here on land, I vow I would, than grieve you--” and +he threw himself at his mother's knees. + +“Have I asked you not to go to Virginia? No, dear boy, though every +thought of a fresh parting seems to crack some new fibre within me, you +must go! It is your calling. Yes; you were not sent into the world to +amuse me, but to work. I have had pleasure enough of you, my darling, +for many a year, and too much, perhaps; till I shrank from lending you +to the Lord. But He must have you. . . . It is enough for the poor old +widow to know that her boy is what he is, and to forget all her anguish +day by day, for joy that a man is born into the world. But, Amyas, +Amyas, are you so blind as not to see that Ayacanora--” + +“Don't talk about her, poor child. Talk about yourself.” + +“How long have I been worth talking about? No, Amyas, you must see it; +and if you will not see it now, you will see it one day in some sad and +fearful prodigy; for she is not one to die tamely. She loves you, Amyas, +as a woman only can love.” + +“Loves me? Well, of course. I found her, and brought her home; and I +don't deny she may think that she owes me somewhat--though it was no +more than a Christian man's duty. But as for her caring much for me, +mother, you measure every one else's tenderness by your own.” + +“Think that she owes you somewhat? Silly boy, this is not gratitude, +but a deeper affection, which may be more heavenly than gratitude, as +it may, too, become a horrible cause of ruin. It rests with you, Amyas, +which of the two it will be.” + +“You are in earnest?” + +“Have I the heart or the time to jest?” + +“No, no, of course not; but, mother, I thought it was not comely for +women to fall in love with men?” + +“Not comely, at least, to confess their love to men. But she has never +done that, Amyas; not even by a look or a tone of voice, though I have +watched her for months.” + +“To be sure, she is as demure as any cat when I am in the way. I only +wonder how you found it out.” + +“Ah,” said she, smiling sadly, “even in the saddest woman's soul there +linger snatches of old music, odors of flowers long dead and turned to +dust--pleasant ghosts, which still keep her mind attuned to that which +may be in others, though in her never more; till she can hear her own +wedding-hymn re-echoed in the tones of every girl who loves, and sees +her own wedding-torch re-lighted in the eyes of every bride.” + +“You would not have me marry her?” asked blunt, practical Amyas. + +“God knows what I would have--I know not; I see neither your path nor +my own--no, not after weeks and months of prayer. All things beyond are +wrapped in mist; and what will be, I know not, save that whatever else +is wrong, mercy at least is right.” + +“I'd sail to-morrow, if I could. As for marrying her, mother--her birth, +mind me--” + +“Ah, boy, boy! Are you God, to visit the sins of the parents upon the +children?” + +“Not that. I don't mean that; but I mean this, that she is half a +Spaniard, mother; and I cannot!--Her blood may be as blue as King +Philip's own, but it is Spanish still! I cannot bear the thought that my +children should have in their veins one drop of that poison.” + +“Amyas! Amyas!” interrupted she, “is this not, too, visiting the +parents' sins on the children?” + +“Not a whit; it is common sense,--she must have the taint of their +bloodthirsty humor. She has it--I have seen it in her again and again. +I have told you, have I not? Can I forget the look of her eyes as +she stood over that galleon's captain, with the smoking knife in her +hand.--Ugh! And she is not tamed yet, as you can see, and never will +be:--not that I care, except for her own sake, poor thing!” + +“Cruel boy! to impute as a blame to the poor child, not only the errors +of her training, but the very madness of her love!” + +“Of her love?” + +“Of what else, blind buzzard? From the moment that you told me the story +of that captain's death, I knew what was in her heart--and thus it is +that you requite her for having saved your life!” + +“Umph! that is one word too much, mother. If you don't want to send me +crazy, don't put the thing on the score of gratitude or duty. As it is, +I can hardly speak civilly to her (God forgive me!) when I recollect +that she belongs to the crew who murdered him”--and he pointed to the +picture, and Mrs. Leigh shuddered as he did so. + +“You feel it! You know you feel it, tender-hearted, forgiving angel as +you are; and what do you think I must feel?” + +“Oh, my son, my son!” cried she, wringing her hands, “if I be wretch +enough to give place to the devil for a moment, does that give you a +right to entertain and cherish him thus day by day?” + +“I should cherish him with a vengeance, if I brought up a crew of +children who could boast of a pedigree of idolaters and tyrants, hunters +of Indians, and torturers of women! How pleasant to hear her telling +Master Jack, 'Your illustrious grand-uncle the pope's legate, was +the man who burned Rose Salterne at Cartagena;' or Miss Grace, 'Your +great-grandfather of sixteen quarterings, the Marquis of this, son of +the Grand-equerry that, and husband of the Princess t'other, used to +feed his bloodhounds, when beef was scarce, with Indians' babies!' Eh, +mother? These things are true, and if you can forget them, I cannot. Is +it not enough to have made me forego for awhile my purpose, my business, +the one thing I live for, and that is, hunting down the Spaniards as I +would adders or foxes, but you must ask me over and above to take one to +my bosom?” + +“Oh, my son, my son! I have not asked you to do that; I have only +commanded you, in God's name, to be merciful, if you wish to obtain +mercy. Oh, if you will not pity this poor maiden, pity yourself; for God +knows you stand in more need of it than she does!” + +Amyas was silent for a minute or two; and then,-- + +“If it were not for you, mother, would God that the Armada would come!” + +“What, and ruin England?” + +“No! Curse them! Not a foot will they ever set on English soil, such a +welcome would we give them. If I were but in the midst of that fleet, +fighting like a man--to forget it all, with a galleon on board of me to +larboard, and another to starboard--and then to put a linstock in the +magazine, and go aloft in good company--I don't care how soon it comes, +mother, if it were not for you.” + +“If I am in your way, Amyas, do not fear that I shall trouble you long.” + +“Oh, mother, mother, do not talk in that way! I am half-mad, I think, +already, and don't know what I say. Yes, I am mad; mad at heart, though +not at head. There's a fire burning me up, night and day, and nothing +but Spanish blood will put it out.” + +“Or the grace of God, my poor wilful child! Who comes to the door?--so +quickly, too?” + +There was a loud hurried knocking, and in another minute a serving-man +hurried in with a letter. + +“This to Captain Amyas Leigh with haste, haste!” + +It was Sir Richard's hand. Amyas tore it open; and “a loud laugh laughed +he.” + +“The Armada is coming! My wish has come true, mother!” + +“God help us, it has! Show me the letter.” + +It was a hurried scrawl. + + +“DR. GODSON,--Walsingham sends word that the Ada. sailed from Lisbon to +the Groyne the 18. of May. We know no more, but have commandment to stay +the ships. Come down, dear lad, and give us counsel; and may the Lord +help His Church in this great strait. + +“Your loving godfather, + +“R. G.” + + +“Forgive me, mother, mother, once for all!” cried Amyas, throwing his +arms round her neck. + +“I have nothing to forgive, my son, my son! And shall I lose thee, +also?” + +“If I be killed, you will have two martyrs of your blood, mother!--” + +Mrs. Leigh bowed her head, and was silent. Amyas caught up his hat and +sword, and darted forth toward Bideford. + +Amyas literally danced into Sir Richard's hall, where he stood talking +earnestly with various merchants and captains. + +“Gloria, gloria! gentles all! The devil is broke loose at last; and now +we know where to have him on the hip!” + +“Why so merry, Captain Leigh, when all else are sad?” said a gentle +voice by his side. + +“Because I have been sad a long time, while all else were merry, dear +lady. Is the hawk doleful when his hood is pulled off, and he sees the +heron flapping right ahead of him?” + +“You seem to forget the danger and the woe of us weak women, sir?” + +“I don't forget the danger and the woe of one weak woman, madam, and she +the daughter of a man who once stood in this room,” said Amyas, suddenly +collecting himself, in a low stern voice. “And I don't forget the danger +and the woe of one who was worth a thousand even of her. I don't forget +anything, madam.” + +“Nor forgive either, it seems.” + +“It will be time to talk of forgiveness after the offender has repented +and amended; and does the sailing of the Armada look like that?” + +“Alas, no! God help us!” + +“He will help us, madam,” said Amyas. + +“Admiral Leigh,” said Sir Richard, “we need you now, if ever. Here are +the queen's orders to furnish as many ships as we can; though from these +gentlemen's spirit, I should say the orders were well-nigh needless.” + +“Not a doubt, sir; for my part, I will fit my ship at my own charges, +and fight her too, as long as I have a leg or an arm left.” + +“Or a tongue to say, never surrender, I'll warrant!” said an old +merchant. “You put life into us old fellows, Admiral Leigh: but it +will be a heavy matter for those poor fellows in Virginia, and for my +daughter too, Madam Dare, with her young babe, as I hear, just born.” + +“And a very heavy matter,” said some one else, “for those who have +ventured their money in these cargoes, which must lie idle, you see, now +for a year maybe--and then all the cost of unlading again--” + +“My good sir,” said Grenville, “what have private interests to do +with this day? Let us thank God if He only please to leave us the bare +fee-simple of this English soil, the honor of our wives and daughters, +and bodies safe from rack and fagot, to wield the swords of freemen in +defence of a free land, even though every town and homestead in England +were wasted with fire, and we left to rebuild over again all which our +ancestors have wrought for us in now six hundred years.” + +“Right, sir!” said Amyas. “For my part, let my Virginian goods rot +on the quay, if the worst comes to the worst. I begin unloading the +Vengeance to-morrow; and to sea as soon as I can fill up my crew to a +good fighting number.” + +And so the talk ran on; and ere two days were past, most of the +neighboring gentlemen, summoned by Sir Richard, had come in, and great +was the bidding against each other as to who should do most. Cary and +Brimblecombe, with thirty tall Clovelly men, came across the bay, and +without even asking leave of Amyas, took up their berths as a matter of +course on board the Vengeance. In the meanwhile, the matter was taken +up by families. The Fortescues (a numberless clan) offered to furnish +a ship; the Chichesters another, the Stukelys a third; while the +merchantmen were not backward. The Bucks, the Stranges, the Heards, +joyfully unloaded their Virginian goods, and replaced them with powder +and shot; and in a week's time the whole seven were ready once more for +sea, and dropped down into Appledore pool, with Amyas as their admiral +for the time being (for Sir Richard had gone by land to Plymouth to join +the deliberations there), and waited for the first favorable wind to +start for the rendezvous in the Sound. + +At last, upon the twenty-first of June, the clank of the capstans rang +merrily across the flats, and amid prayers and blessings, forth sailed +that gallant squadron over the bar, to play their part in Britain's +Salamis; while Mrs. Leigh stood watching as she stood once before, +beside the churchyard wall: but not alone this time; for Ayacanora stood +by her side, and gazed and gazed, till her eyes seemed ready to burst +from their sockets. At last she turned away with a sob,-- + +“And he never bade me good-bye, mother!” + +“God forgive him! Come home and pray, my child; there is no other rest +on earth than prayer for woman's heart!” + +They were calling each other mother and daughter then? Yes. The sacred +fire of sorrow was fast burning out all Ayacanora's fallen savageness; +and, like a Phoenix, the true woman was rising from those ashes, fair, +noble, and all-enduring, as God had made her. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +HOW THE ADMIRAL JOHN HAWKINS TESTIFIED AGAINST CROAKERS + + “Oh, where be these gay Spaniards, + Which make so great a boast O? + Oh, they shall eat the gray-goose feather, + And we shall eat the roast O!” + + Cornish Song. + +What if the spectators who last summer gazed with just pride upon the +noble port of Plymouth, its vast breakwater spanning the Sound, its +arsenals and docks, its two estuaries filled with gallant ships, and +watched the great screw-liners turning within their own length by force +invisible, or threading the crowded fleets with the ease of the tiniest +boat,--what if, by some magic turn, the nineteenth century, and all the +magnificence of its wealth and science, had vanished--as it may vanish +hereafter--and they had found themselves thrown back three hundred years +into the pleasant summer days of 1588? + +Mount Edgecombe is still there, beautiful as ever: but where are the +docks, and where is Devonport? No vast dry-dock roofs rise at the +water's edge. Drake's island carries but a paltry battery, just raised +by the man whose name it bears; Mount Wise is a lone gentleman's house +among fields; the citadel is a pop-gun fort, which a third-class steamer +would shell into rubble for an afternoon's amusement. And the shipping, +where are they? The floating castles of the Hamoaze have dwindled to +a few crawling lime-hoys; and the Catwater is packed, not as now, with +merchant craft, but with the ships who will to-morrow begin the greatest +sea-fight which the world has ever seen. + +There they lie, a paltry squadron enough in modern eyes; the largest of +them not equal in size to a six-and-thirty-gun frigate, carrying less +weight of metal than one of our new gun-boats, and able to employ even +that at not more than a quarter of our modern range. Would our modern +spectators, just come down by rail for a few hours, to see the cavalry +embark, and return tomorrow in time for dinner, have looked down upon +that petty port, and petty fleet, with a contemptuous smile, and begun +some flippant speech about the progress of intellect, and the triumphs +of science, and our benighted ancestors? They would have done so, doubt +it not, if they belonged to the many who gaze on those very triumphs +as on a raree-show to feed their silly wonder, or use and enjoy them +without thankfulness or understanding, as the ox eats the clover thrust +into his rack, without knowing or caring how it grew. But if any of them +were of the class by whom those very triumphs have been achieved; the +thinkers and the workers, who, instead of entering lazily into other +men's labors, as the mob does, labor themselves; who know by hard +experience the struggles, the self-restraints, the disappointments, the +slow and staggering steps, by which the discoverer reaches to his prize; +then the smile of those men would not have been one of pity, but rather +of filial love. For they would have seen in those outwardly paltry +armaments the potential germ of that mightier one which now loads the +Black Sea waves; they would have been aware, that to produce it, with +such materials and knowledge as then existed, demanded an intellect, an +energy, a spirit of progress and invention, equal, if not superior, to +those of which we now so loudly boast. + +But if, again, he had been a student of men rather than of machinery, +he would have found few nobler companies on whom to exercise his +discernment, than he might have seen in the little terrace bowling-green +behind the Pelican Inn, on the afternoon of the nineteenth of July. +Chatting in groups, or lounging over the low wall which commanded a +view of the Sound and the shipping far below, were gathered almost +every notable man of the Plymouth fleet, the whole posse comitatus +of “England's forgotten worthies.” The Armada has been scattered by a +storm. Lord Howard has been out to look for it, as far as the Spanish +coast; but the wind has shifted to the south, and fearing lest the Dons +should pass him, he has returned to Plymouth, uncertain whether the +Armada will come after all or not. Slip on for a while, like Prince Hal, +the drawer's apron; come in through the rose-clad door which opens +from the tavern, with a tray of long-necked Dutch glasses, and a silver +tankard of wine, and look round you at the gallant captains, who are +waiting for the Spanish Armada, as lions in their lair might wait for +the passing herd of deer. + +See those five talking earnestly, in the centre of a ring, which longs +to overhear, and yet is too respectful to approach close. Those soft +long eyes and pointed chin you recognize already; they are Walter +Raleigh's. The fair young man in the flame-colored doublet, whose arm +is round Raleigh's neck, is Lord Sheffield; opposite them stands, by +the side of Sir Richard Grenville, a man as stately even as he, Lord +Sheffield's uncle, the Lord Charles Howard of Effingham, lord high +admiral of England; next to him is his son-in-law, Sir Robert Southwell, +captain of the Elizabeth Jonas: but who is that short, sturdy, plainly +dressed man, who stands with legs a little apart, and hands behind his +back, looking up, with keen gray eyes, into the face of each speaker? +His cap is in his hands, so you can see the bullet head of crisp brown +hair and the wrinkled forehead, as well as the high cheek bones, the +short square face, the broad temples, the thick lips, which are yet firm +as granite. A coarse plebeian stamp of man: yet the whole figure and +attitude are that of boundless determination, self-possession, energy; +and when at last he speaks a few blunt words, all eyes are turned +respectfully upon him;--for his name is Francis Drake. + +A burly, grizzled elder, in greasy sea-stained garments, contrasting +oddly with the huge gold chain about his neck, waddles up, as if he had +been born, and had lived ever since, in a gale of wind at sea. The upper +half of his sharp dogged visage seems of brick-red leather, the lower of +badger's fur; and as he claps Drake on the back, and, with a broad Devon +twang, shouts, “be you a coming to drink your wine, Francis Drake, or +be you not?--saving your presence, my lord;” the lord high admiral only +laughs, and bids Drake go and drink his wine; for John Hawkins, admiral +of the port, is the patriarch of Plymouth seamen, if Drake be their +hero, and says and does pretty much what he likes in any company on +earth; not to mention that to-day's prospect of an Armageddon fight has +shaken him altogether out of his usual crabbed reserve, and made him +overflow with loquacious good-humor, even to his rival Drake. + +So they push through the crowd, wherein is many another man whom one +would gladly have spoken with face to face on earth. Martin Frobisher +and John Davis are sitting on that bench, smoking tobacco from long +silver pipes; and by them are Fenton and Withrington, who have both +tried to follow Drake's path round the world, and failed, though by no +fault of their own. The man who pledges them better luck next time, +is George Fenner, known to “the seven Portugals,” Leicester's pet, and +captain of the galleon which Elizabeth bought of him. That short prim +man in the huge yellow ruff, with sharp chin, minute imperial, and +self-satisfied smile, is Richard Hawkins, the Complete Seaman, Admiral +John's hereafter famous and hapless son. The elder who is talking with +him is his good uncle William, whose monument still stands, or should +stand, in Deptford Church; for Admiral John set it up there but one year +after this time; and on it record how he was, “A worshipper of the true +religion, an especial benefactor of poor sailors, a most just arbiter +in most difficult causes, and of a singular faith, piety, and prudence.” + That, and the fact that he got creditably through some sharp work at +Porto Rico, is all I know of William Hawkins: but if you or I, reader, +can have as much or half as much said of us when we have to follow him, +we shall have no reason to complain. + +There is John Drake, Sir Francis' brother, ancestor of the present stock +of Drakes; and there is George, his nephew, a man not overwise, who has +been round the world with Amyas; and there is Amyas himself, talking +to one who answers him with fierce curt sentences, Captain Barker of +Bristol, brother of the hapless Andrew Barker who found John Oxenham's +guns, and, owing to a mutiny among his men, perished by the Spaniards in +Honduras, twelve years ago. Barker is now captain of the Victory, one of +the queen's best ships; and he has his accounts to settle with the Dons, +as Amyas has; so they are both growling together in a corner, while all +the rest are as merry as the flies upon the vine above their heads. + +But who is the aged man who sits upon a bench, against the sunny south +wall of the tavern, his long white beard flowing almost to his waist, +his hands upon his knees, his palsied head moving slowly from side to +side, to catch the scraps of discourse of the passing captains? His +great-grandchild, a little maid of six, has laid her curly head upon his +knees, and his grand-daughter, a buxom black-eyed dame of thirty, stands +by him and tends him, half as nurse, and half, too, as showman, for he +seems an object of curiosity to all the captains, and his fair nurse has +to entreat again and again, “Bless you, sir, please now, don't give him +no liquor, poor old soul, the doctor says.” It is old Martin Cockrem, +father of the ancient host, aged himself beyond the years of man, who +can recollect the bells of Plymouth ringing for the coronation of Henry +the Eighth, and who was the first Englishman, perhaps, who ever set foot +on the soil of the New World. There he sits, like an old Druid Tor of +primeval granite amid the tall wheat and rich clover crops of a modern +farm. He has seen the death of old Europe and the birth-throes of the +new. Go to him, and question him; for his senses are quick as ever; +and just now the old man seems uneasy. He is peering with rheumy eyes +through the groups, and seems listening for a well-known voice. + +“There 'a be again! Why don't 'a come, then?” + +“Quiet, gramfer, and don't trouble his worship.” + +“Here an hour, and never speak to poor old Martin! I say, sir”--and the +old man feebly plucks Amyas's cloak as he passes. “I say, captain, do 'e +tell young master old Martin's looking for him.” + +“Marcy, gramfer, where's your manners? Don't be vexed, sir, he'm a'most +a babe, and tejous at times, mortal.” + +“Young master who?” says Amyas, bending down to the old man, and smiling +to the dame to let him have his way. + +“Master Hawkins; he'm never been a-near me all day.” + +Off goes Amyas; and, of course, lays hold of the sleeve of young Richard +Hawkins; but as he is in act to speak, the dame lays hold of his, +laughing and blushing. + +“No, sir, not Mr. Richard, sir; Admiral John, sir, his father; he always +calls him young master, poor old soul!” and she points to the grizzled +beard and the face scarred and tanned with fifty years of fight and +storm. + +Amyas goes to the Admiral, and gives his message. + +“Mercy on me! Where be my wits? Iss, I'm a-coming,” says the old hero in +his broadest Devon, waddles off to the old man, and begins lugging at +a pocket. “Here, Martin, I've got mun, I've got mun, man alive; but his +Lordship keept me so. Lookee here, then! Why, I do get so lusty of late, +Martin, I can't get to my pockets!” + +And out struggle a piece of tarred string, a bundle of papers, a +thimble, a piece of pudding-tobacco, and last of all, a little paper of +Muscovado sugar--then as great a delicacy as any French bonbons would be +now--which he thrusts into the old man's eager and trembling hand. + +Old Martin begins dipping his finger into it, and rubbing it on his +toothless gums, smiling and nodding thanks to his young master; while +the little maid at his knee, unrebuked, takes her share also. + +“There, Admiral Leigh; both ends meet--gramfers and babies! You and I +shall be like to that one day, young Samson!” + +“We shall have slain a good many Philistines first, I hope.” + +“Amen! so be it; but look to mun! so fine a sailor as ever drank liquor; +and now greedy after a hit of sweet trade! 'tis piteous like; but I +bring mun a hit whenever I come, and he looks for it. He's one of my own +flesh like, is old Martin. He sailed with my father Captain Will, when +they was both two little cracks aboard of a trawler; and my father +went up, and here I am--he didn't, and there he is. We'm up now, we +Hawkinses. We may be down again some day.” + +“Never, I trust,” said Amyas. + +“'Tain't no use trusting, young man: you go and do. I do hear too much +of that there from my lad. Let they ministers preach till they'm black +in the face, works is the trade!” with a nudge in Amyas's ribs. “Faith +can't save, nor charity nether. There, you tell with him, while I go +play bowls with Drake. He'll tell you a sight of stories. You ask him +about good King Hal, now, just--” + +And off waddled the Port Admiral. + +“You have seen good King Henry, then, father?” said Amyas, interested. + +The old man's eyes lighted at once, and he stopped mumbling his sugar. + +“Seed mun? Iss, I reckon. I was with Captain Will when he went to meet +the Frenchman there to Calais--at the Field, the Field--” + +“The Field of the Cloth of Gold, gramfer,” suggested the dame. + +“That's it. Seed mun? Iss, fegs. Oh, he was a king! The face o' mun like +a rising sun, and the back o' mun so broad as that there” (and he held +out his palsied arms), “and the voice of mun! Oh, to hear mun swear if +he was merry, oh, 'tas royal!--Seed mun? Iss, fegs! And I've seed mun do +what few has; I've seed mun christle like any child.” + +“What--cry?” said Amyas. “I shouldn't have thought there was much cry in +him.” + +“You think what you like--” + +“Gramfer, gramfer, don't you be rude, now-- + +“Let him go on,” said Amyas. + +“I seed mun christle; and, oh dear, how he did put hands on mun's face; +and 'Oh, my gentlemen,' says he, 'my gentlemen! Oh, my gallant men!' +Them was his very words.” + +“But when?” + +“Why, Captain Will had just come to the Hard--that's to Portsmouth--to +speak with mun, and the barge Royal lay again the Hard--so; and our boot +alongside--so; and the king he standth as it might be there, above my +head, on the quay edge, and she come in near abreast of us, looking most +royal to behold, poor dear! and went to cast about. And Captain Will, +saith he, 'Them lower ports is cruel near the water;' for she had not +more than a sixteen inches to spare in the nether overloop, as I heard +after. And saith he, 'That won't do for going to windward in a say, +Martin.' And as the words came out of mun's mouth, your worship, there +was a bit of a flaw from the westward, sharp like, and overboard goeth +my cap, and hitth against the wall, and as I stooped to pick it up, I +heard a cry, and it was all over!” + +“He is telling of the Mary Rose, sir.” + +“I guessed so.” + +“All over: and the cry of mun, and the screech of mun! Oh, sir, up to +the very heavens! And the king he screeched right out like any maid, 'Oh +my gentlemen, oh my gallant men!' and as she lay on her beam-ends, sir, +and just a-settling, the very last souls I seen was that man's father, +and that man's. I knowed mun by their armor.” + +And he pointed to Sir George Carew and Sir Richard Grenville. + +“Iss! Iss! Drowned like rattens. Drowned like rattens!” + +“Now; you mustn't trouble his worship any more.” + +“Trouble? Let him tell till midnight, I shall be well pleased,” said +Amyas, sitting down on the bench by him. “Drawer! ale--and a parcel of +tobacco.” + +And Amyas settled himself to listen, while the old man purred to +himself-- + +“Iss. They likes to hear old Martin. All the captains look upon old +Martin.” + +“Hillo, Amyas!” said Cary, “who's your friend? Here's a man been telling +me wonders about the River Plate. We should go thither for luck there +next time.” + +“River Plate?” said old Martin. “It's I knows about the River Plate; +none so well. Who'd ever been there, nor heard of it nether, before +Captain Will and me went, and I lived among the savages a whole year; +and audacious civil I found 'em if they 'd had but shirts to their +backs; and so was the prince o' mun, that Captain Will brought home to +King Henry; leastwise he died on the voyage; but the wild folk took it +cruel well, for you see, we was always as civil with them as Christians, +and if we hadn't been, I should not have been here now.” + +“What year was that?” + +“In the fifteen thirty: but I was there afore, and learnt the speech +o' mun; and that's why Captain Will left me to a hostage, when he tuked +their prince.” + +“Before that?” said Cary; “why, the country was hardly known before +that.” + +The old man's eyes flashed up in triumph. + +“Knowed? Iss, and you may well say that! Look ye here! Look to mun!” and +he waved his hand round--“There's captains! and I'm the father of 'em +all now, now poor Captain Will's in gloory; I, Martin Cockrem! . . . +Iss, I've seen a change. I mind when Tavistock Abbey was so full +o' friars, and goolden idols, and sich noxious trade, as ever was a +wheat-rick of rats. I mind the fight off Brest in the French wars--Oh, +that was a fight, surely!--when the Regent and the French Carack were +burnt side by side, being fast grappled, you see, because of Sir Thomas +Knivet; and Captain Will gave him warning as he ran a-past us, saying, +says he--” + +“But,” said Amyas, seeing that the old man was wandering away, “what do +you mind about America?” + +“America? I should think so! But I was a-going to tell you of the +Regent--and seven hundred Englishmen burnt and drowned in her, and nine +hundred French in the Brest ship, besides what we picked up. Oh dear! +But about America.” + +“Yes, about America. How are you the father of all the captains?” + +“How? you ask my young master! Why, before the fifteen thirty, I was up +the Plate with Cabot (and a cruel fractious ontrustful fellow he was, +like all they Portingals), and bid there a year and more, and up the +Paraguaio with him, diskivering no end; whereby, gentles, I was the +first Englishman, I hold, that ever sot a foot on the New World, I was!” + +“Then here's your health, and long life, sir!” said Amyas and Cary. + +“Long life? Iss, fegs, I reckon, long enough a'ready! Why, I mind the +beginning of it all, I do. I mind when there wasn't a master mariner +to Plymouth, that thought there was aught west of the Land's End except +herrings. Why, they held them, pure wratches, that if you sailed right +west away far enough, you'd surely come to the edge, and fall over +cleve. Iss--'Twas dark parts round here, till Captain Will arose; and +the first of it I mind was inside the bar of San Lucar, and he and I +were boys about a ten year old, aboord of a Dartmouth ship, and went +for wine, and there come in over the bar he that was the beginning of it +all.” + +“Columbus?” + +“Iss, fegs, he did, not a pistol-shot from us; and I saw mun stand on +the poop, so plain as I see you; no great shakes of a man to look +to nether; there's a sight better here, to plase me, and we was +disappointed, we lads, for we surely expected to see mun with a goolden +crown on, and a sceptre to a's hand, we did, and the ship o' mun all +over like Solomon's temple for gloory. And I mind that same year, too, +seeing Vasco da Gama, as was going out over the bar, when he found +the Bona Speranza, and sailed round it to the Indies. Ah, that was the +making of they rascally Portingals, it was! . . . And our crew told what +they seen and heerd: but nobody minded sich things. 'Twas dark parts, +and Popish, then; and nobody knowed nothing, nor got no schooling, nor +cared for nothing, but scrattling up and down alongshore like to prawns +in a pule. Iss, sitting in darkness, we was, and the shadow of death, +till the day-spring from on high arose, and shined upon us poor +out-o'-the-way folk--The Lord be praised! And now, look to mun!” and he +waved his hand all round--“Look to mun! Look to the works of the Lord! +Look to the captains! Oh blessed sight! And one's been to the Brazils, +and one to the Indies, and the Spanish Main, and the North-West, and the +Rooshias, and the Chinas, and up the Straits, and round the Cape, +and round the world of God, too, bless His holy name; and I seed the +beginning of it; and I'll see the end of it too, I will! I was born into +the old times: but I'll see the wondrous works of the new, yet, I will! +I'll see they bloody Spaniards swept off the seas before I die, if my +old eyes can reach so far as outside the Sound. I shall, I knows it. I +says my prayers for it every night; don't I, Mary? You'll bate mun, sure +as Judgment, you'll bate mun! The Lord'll fight for ye. Nothing'll stand +against ye. I've seed it all along--ever since I was with young master +to the Honduras. They can't bide the push of us! You'll bate mun off +the face of the seas, and be masters of the round world, and all that +therein is. And then, I'll just turn my old face to the wall, and depart +in peace, according to his word. + +“Deary me, now, while I've been telling with you, here've this little +maid been and ate up all my sugar!” + +“I'll bring you some more,” said Amyas; whom the childish bathos of the +last sentence moved rather to sighs than laughter. + +“Will ye, then? There's a good soul, and come and tell with old Martin. +He likes to see the brave young gentlemen, a-going to and fro in their +ships, like Leviathan, and taking of their pastime therein. We had +no such ships to our days. Ah, 'tis grand times, beautiful times +surely--and you'll bring me a bit sugar?” + +“You were up the Plate with Cabot?” said Cary, after a pause. “Do you +mind the fair lady Miranda, Sebastian de Hurtado's wife?” + +“What! her that was burnt by the Indians? Mind her? Do you mind the sun +in heaven? Oh, the beauty! Oh, the ways of her! Oh, the speech of her! +Never was, nor never will be! And she to die by they villains; and all +for the goodness of her! Mind her? I minded naught else when she was on +deck.” + +“Who was she?” asked Amyas of Cary. + +“A Spanish angel, Amyas.” + +“Humph!” said Amyas. “So much the worse for her, to be born into a +nation of devils.” + +“They'em not all so bad as that, yer honor. Her husband was a proper +gallant gentleman, and kind as a maid, too, and couldn't abide that De +Solis's murderous doings.” + +“His wife must have taught it him, then,” said Amyas, rising. “Where did +you hear of these black swans, Cary?” + +“I have heard of them, and that's enough,” answered he, unwilling to +stir sad recollections. + +“And little enough,” said Amyas. “Will, don't talk to me. The devil is +not grown white because he has trod in a lime-heap.” + +“Or an angel black because she came down a chimney,” said Cary; and so +the talk ended, or rather was cut short; for the talk of all the groups +was interrupted by an explosion from old John Hawkins. + +“Fail? Fail? What a murrain do you here, to talk of failing? Who made +you a prophet, you scurvy, hang-in-the-wind, croaking, white-livered son +of a corby-crow?” + +“Heaven help us, Admiral Hawkins, who has put fire to your culverins in +this fashion?” said Lord Howard. + +“Who? my lord! Croakers! my lord! Here's a fellow calls himself the +captain of a ship, and her majesty's servant, and talks about failing, +as if he were a Barbican loose-kirtle trying to keep her apple-squire +ashore! Blurt for him, sneak-up! say I.” + +“Admiral John Hawkins,” quoth the offender, “you shall answer this +language with your sword.” + +“I'll answer it with my foot; and buy me a pair of horn-tips to my +shoes, like a wraxling man. Fight a croaker? Fight a frog, an owl! I +fight those that dare fight, sir!” + +“Sir, sir, moderate yourself. I am sure this gentleman will show himself +as brave as any, when it comes to blows: but who can blame mortal man +for trembling before so fearful a chance as this?” + +“Let mortal man keep his tremblings to himself, then, my lord, and not +be like Solomon's madmen, casting abroad fire and death, and saying, it +is only in sport. There is more than one of his kidney, your lordship, +who have not been ashamed to play Mother Shipton before their own +sailors, and damp the poor fellows' hearts with crying before they're +hurt, and this is one of them. I've heard him at it afore, and I'll +present him, with a vengeance, though I'm no church-warden.” + +“If this is really so, Admiral Hawkins--” + +“It is so, my lord! I heard only last night, down in a tavern below, +such unbelieving talk as made me mad, my lord; and if it had not been +after supper, and my hand was not oversteady, I would have let out a +pottle of Alicant from some of their hoopings, and sent them to Dick +Surgeon, to wrap them in swaddling-clouts, like whining babies as +they are. Marry come up, what says Scripture? 'He that is fearful and +faint-hearted among you, let him go and'--what? son Dick there? Thou'rt +pious, and read'st thy Bible. What's that text? A mortal fine one it is, +too.” + +“'He that is fearful and faint-hearted among you, let him go back,'” + quoth the Complete Seaman. “Captain Merryweather, as my father's +command, as well as his years, forbid his answering your challenge, I +shall repute it an honor to entertain his quarrel myself--place, time, +and weapons being at your choice.” + +“Well spoken, son Dick!--and like a true courtier, too! Ah! thou hast +the palabras, and the knee, and the cap, and the quip, and the innuendo, +and the true town fashion of it all--no old tarry-breeks of a sea-dog, +like thy dad! My lord, you'll let them fight?” + +“The Spaniard, sir; but no one else. But, captains and gentlemen, +consider well my friend the Port Admiral's advice; and if any man's +heart misgives him, let him, for the sake of his country and his queen, +have so much government of his tongue to hide his fears in his own +bosom, and leave open complaining to ribalds and women. For if the +sailor be not cheered by his commander's cheerfulness, how will the +ignorant man find comfort in himself? And without faith and hope, how +can he fight worthily?” + +“There is no croaking aboard of us, we will warrant,” said twenty +voices, “and shall be none, as long as we command on board our own +ships.” + +Hawkins, having blown off his steam, went back to Drake and the bowls. + +“Fill my pipe, Drawer--that croaking fellow's made me let it out, of +course! Spoil-sports! The father of all manner of troubles on earth, +be they noxious trade of croakers! 'Better to meet a bear robbed of her +whelps,' Francis Drake, as Solomon saith, than a fule who can't keep his +mouth shut. What brought Mr. Andrew Barker to his death but croakers? +What stopped Fenton's China voyage in the '82, and lost your nephew +John, and my brother Will, glory and hard cash too, but croakers? What +sent back my Lord Cumberland's armada in the '86, and that after they'd +proved their strength, too, sixty o' mun against six hundred Portugals +and Indians; and yet wern't ashamed to turn round and come home +empty-handed, after all my lord's expenses that he had been at? What +but these same beggarly croakers, that be only fit to be turned into +yellow-hammers up to Dartymoor, and sit on a tor all day, and cry 'Very +little bit of bread, and no chee-e-ese!' Marry, sneak-up! say I again.” + +“And what,” said Drake, “would have kept me, if I'd let 'em, from ever +sailing round the world, but these same croakers? I hanged my best +friend for croaking, John Hawkins, may God forgive me if I was wrong, +and I threatened a week after to hang thirty more; and I'd have done it, +too, if they hadn't clapped tompions into their muzzles pretty fast.” + +“You'm right, Frank. My old father always told me--and old King Hal +(bless his memory!) would take his counsel among a thousand;--'And, my +son,' says he to me, 'whatever you do, never you stand no croaking; but +hang mun, son Jack, hang mun up for an ensign. There's Scripture for +it,' says he (he was a mighty man to his Bible, after bloody Mary's +days, leastwise), 'and 'tis written,' says he, 'It's expedient that one +man die for the crew, and that the whole crew perish not; so show you +no mercy, son Jack, or you'll find none, least-wise in they manner of +cattle; for if you fail, they stamps on you, and if you succeeds, they +takes the credit of it to themselves, and goes to heaven in your shoes.' +Those were his words, and I've found mun true.--Who com'th here now?” + +“Captain Fleming, as I'm a sinner.” + +“Fleming? Is he tired of life, that he com'th here to look for a halter? +I've a warrant out against mun, for robbing of two Flushingers on the +high seas, now this very last year. Is the fellow mazed or drunk, then? +or has he seen a ghost? Look to mun!” + +“I think so, truly,” said Drake. “His eyes are near out of his head.” + +The man was a rough-bearded old sea-dog, who had just burst in from the +tavern through the low hatch, upsetting a drawer with all his glasses, +and now came panting and blowing straight up to the high admiral,-- + +“My lord, my lord! They'm coming! I saw them off the Lizard last night!” + +“Who? my good sir, who seem to have left your manners behind you.” + +“The Armada, your worship--the Spaniard; but as for my manners, 'tis no +fault of mine, for I never had none to leave behind me.” + +“If he has not left his manners behind,” quoth Hawkins, “look out for +your purses, gentlemen all! He's manners enough, and very bad ones they +be, when he com'th across a quiet Flushinger.” + +“If I stole Flushingers' wines, I never stole negurs' souls, Jack +Hawkins; so there's your answer. My lord, hang me if you will; life's +short and death's easy 'specially to seamen; but if I didn't see the +Spanish fleet last sun-down, coming along half-moon wise, and full seven +mile from wing to wing, within a four mile of me, I'm a sinner.” + +“Sirrah,” said Lord Howard, “is this no fetch, to cheat us out of your +pardon for these piracies of yours?” + +“You'll find out for yourself before nightfall, my lord high admiral. +All Jack Fleming says is, that this is a poor sort of an answer to a man +who has put his own neck into the halter for the sake of his country.” + +“Perhaps it is,” said Lord Howard. “And after all, gentlemen, what can +this man gain by a lie, which must be discovered ere a day is over, +except a more certain hanging?” + +“Very true, your lordship,” said Hawkins, mollified. “Come here, Jack +Fleming--what wilt drain, man? Hippocras or Alicant, Sack or John +Barleycorn, and a pledge to thy repentance and amendment of life.” + +“Admiral Hawkins, Admiral Hawkins, this is no time for drinking.” + +“Why not, then, my lord? Good news should be welcomed with good wine. +Frank, send down to the sexton, and set the bells a-ringing to cheer up +all honest hearts. Why, my lord, if it were not for the gravity of my +office, I could dance a galliard for joy!” + +“Well, you may dance, port admiral: but I must go and plan, but God give +to all captains such a heart as yours this day!” + +“And God give all generals such a head as yours! Come, Frank Drake, +we'll play the game out before we move. It will be two good days before +we shall be fit to tackle them, so an odd half-hour don't matter.” + +“I must command the help of your counsel, vice-admiral,” said Lord +Charles, turning to Drake. + +“And it's this, my good lord,” said Drake, looking up, as he aimed his +bowl. “They'll come soon enough for us to show them sport, and yet slow +enough for us to be ready; so let no man hurry himself. And as example +is better than precept, here goes.” + +Lord Howard shrugged his shoulders, and departed, knowing two things: +first, that to move Drake was to move mountains; and next, that when the +self-taught hero did bestir himself, he would do more work in an hour +than any one else in a day. So he departed, followed hastily by most of +the captains; and Drake said in a low voice to Hawkins: + +“Does he think we are going to knock about on a lee-shore all the +afternoon and run our noses at night--and dead up-wind, too--into the +Dons' mouths? No, Jack, my friend. Let Orlando-Furioso-punctilio-fire- +eaters go and get their knuckles rapped. The following game is the game, +and not the meeting one. The dog goes after the sheep, and not afore +them, lad. Let them go by, and go by, and stick to them well to +windward, and pick up stragglers, and pickings, too, Jack--the prizes, +Jack!” + +“Trust my old eyes for not being over-quick at seeing signals, if I be +hanging in the skirts of a fat-looking Don. We'm the eagles, Drake; and +where the carcase is, is our place, eh?” + +And so the two old sea-dogs chatted on, while their companions dropped +off one by one, and only Amyas remained. + +“Eh, Captain Leigh, where's my boy Dick?” + +“Gone off with his lordship, Sir John.” + +“On his punctilios too, I suppose, the young slashed-breeks. He's half +a Don, that fellow, with his fine scholarship, and his fine manners, +and his fine clothes. He'll get a taking down before he dies, unless he +mends. Why ain't you gone too, sir?” + +“I follow my leader,” said Amyas, filling his pipe. + +“Well said, my big man,” quoth Drake. “If I could lead you round the +world, I can lead you up Channel, can't I?--Eh? my little bantam-cock of +the Orinoco? Drink, lad! You're over-sad to-day.” + +“Not a whit,” said Amyas. “Only I can't help wondering whether I shall +find him after all.” + +“Whom? That Don? We'll find him for you, if he's in the fleet. We'll +squeeze it out of our prisoners somehow. Eh, Hawkins? I thought all the +captains had promised to send you news if they heard of him.” + +“Ay, but it's ill looking for a needle in a haystack. But I shall find +him. I am a coward to doubt it,” said Amyas, setting his teeth. + +“There, vice-admiral, you're beaten, and that's the rubber. Pay up +three dollars, old high-flyer, and go and earn more, like an honest +adventurer.” + +“Well,” said Drake, as he pulled out his purse, “we'll walk down now, +and see about these young hot-heads. As I live, they are setting to tow +the ships out already! Breaking the men's backs over-night, to make them +fight the lustier in the morning! Well, well, they haven't sailed round +the world, Jack Hawkins.” + +“Or had to run home from San Juan d'Ulloa with half a crew. + +“Well, if we haven't to run out with half crews. I saw a sight of our +lads drunk about this morning.” + +“The more reason for waiting till they be sober. Besides, if everybody's +caranting about to once each after his own men, nobody'll find nothing +in such a scrimmage as that. Bye, bye, Uncle Martin. We'm going to blow +the Dons up now in earnest.” + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE GREAT ARMADA + + “Britannia needs no bulwarks, + No towers along the steep, + Her march is o'er the mountain wave, + Her home is on the deep.” + + CAMPBELL, Ye Mariners of England. + +And now began that great sea-fight which was to determine whether Popery +and despotism, or Protestantism and freedom, were the law which God had +appointed for the half of Europe, and the whole of future America. It +is a twelve days' epic, worthy, as I said in the beginning of this book, +not of dull prose, but of the thunder-roll of Homer's verse: but having +to tell it, I must do my best, rather using, where I can, the words of +contemporary authors than my own. + +“The Lord High Admirall of England, sending a pinnace before, called +the Defiance, denounced war by discharging her ordnance; and presently +approaching with in musquet-shot, with much thundering out of his own +ship, called the Arkroyall (alias the Triumph), first set upon the +admirall's, as he thought, of the Spaniards (but it was Alfonso de +Leon's ship). Soon after, Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher played stoutly +with their ordnance on the hindmost squadron, which was commanded by +Recalde.” The Spaniards soon discover the superior “nimbleness of the +English ships;” and Recalde's squadron, finding that they are getting +more than they give, in spite of his endeavors, hurry forward to join +the rest of the fleet. Medina the Admiral, finding his ships scattering +fast, gathers them into a half-moon; and the Armada tries to keep solemn +way forward, like a stately herd of buffaloes, who march on across the +prairie, disdaining to notice the wolves which snarl around their track. +But in vain. These are no wolves, but cunning hunters, swiftly horsed, +and keenly armed, and who will “shamefully shuffle” (to use Drake's own +expression) that vast herd from the Lizard to Portland, from Portland +to Calais Roads; and who, even in this short two hours' fight, have made +many a Spaniard question the boasted invincibleness of this Armada. + +One of the four great galliasses is already riddled with shot, to the +great disarrangement of her “pulpits, chapels,” and friars therein +assistant. The fleet has to close round her, or Drake and Hawkins +will sink her; in effecting which manoeuvre, the “principal galleon of +Seville,” in which are Pedro de Valdez and a host of blue-blooded Dons, +runs foul of her neighbor, carries away her foremast, and is, in spite +of Spanish chivalry, left to her fate. This does not look like victory, +certainly. But courage! though Valdez be left behind, “our Lady,” and +the saints, and the bull Caena Domini (dictated by one whom I dare not +name here), are with them still, and it were blasphemous to doubt. But +in the meanwhile, if they have fared no better than this against a +third of the Plymouth fleet, how will they fare when those forty +belated ships, which are already whitening the blue between them and the +Mewstone, enter the scene to play their part? + +So ends the first day; not an English ship, hardly a man, is hurt. +It has destroyed for ever, in English minds, the prestige of boastful +Spain. It has justified utterly the policy which the good Lord Howard +had adopted by Raleigh's and Drake's advice, of keeping up a running +fight, instead of “clapping ships together without consideration,” in +which case, says Raleigh, “he had been lost, if he had not been better +advised than a great many malignant fools were, who found fault with his +demeanor.” + +Be that as it may, so ends the first day, in which Amyas and the other +Bideford ships have been right busy for two hours, knocking holes in a +huge galleon, which carries on her poop a maiden with a wheel, and bears +the name of Sta. Catharina. She had a coat of arms on the flag at her +sprit, probably those of the commandant of soldiers; but they were shot +away early in the fight, so Amyas cannot tell whether they were De +Soto's or not. Nevertheless, there is plenty of time for private +revenge; and Amyas, called off at last by the admiral's signal, goes +to bed and sleeps soundly. + +But ere he has been in his hammock an hour, he is awakened by Cary's +coming down to ask for orders. + +“We were to follow Drake's lantern, Amyas; but where it is, I can't +see, unless he has been taken up aloft there among the stars for a new +Drakium Sidus.” + +Amyas turns out grumbling: but no lantern is to be seen; only a sudden +explosion and a great fire on board some Spaniard, which is gradually +got under, while they have to lie-to the whole night long, with nearly +the whole fleet. + +The next morning finds them off Torbay; and Amyas is hailed by a +pinnace, bringing a letter from Drake, which (saving the spelling, which +was somewhat arbitrary, like most men's in those days) ran somewhat +thus:-- + + +“DEAR LAD,--I have been wool-gathering all night after five great hulks, +which the Pixies transfigured overnight into galleons, and this morning +again into German merchantmen. I let them go with my blessing; and +coming back, fell in (God be thanked!) with Valdez' great galleon; +and in it good booty, which the Dons his fellows had left behind, like +faithful and valiant comrades, and the Lord Howard had let slip past +him, thinking her deserted by her crew. I have sent to Dartmouth a sight +of noblemen and gentlemen, maybe a half-hundred; and Valdez himself, who +when I sent my pinnace aboard must needs stand on his punctilios, and +propound conditions. I answered him, I had no time to tell with him; if +he would needs die, then I was the very man for him; if he would live, +then, buena querra. He sends again, boasting that he was Don Pedro +Valdez, and that it stood not with his honor, and that of the Dons in +his company. I replied, that for my part, I was Francis Drake, and my +matches burning. Whereon he finds in my name salve for the wounds of +his own, and comes aboard, kissing my fist, with Spanish lies of holding +himself fortunate that he had fallen into the hands of fortunate Drake, +and much more, which he might have kept to cool his porridge. But I have +much news from him (for he is a leaky tub); and among others, this, +that your Don Guzman is aboard of the Sta. Catharina, commandant of her +soldiery, and has his arms flying at her sprit, beside Sta. Catharina at +the poop, which is a maiden with a wheel, and is a lofty built ship of +3 tier of ordnance, from which God preserve you, and send you like luck +with. + +“Your deare Friend and Admirall, + +“F. Drake. + +“She sails in this squadron of Recalde. The Armada was minded to smoke +us out of Plymouth; and God's grace it was they tried not: but their +orders from home are too strait, and so the slaves fight like a bull +in a tether, no farther than their rope, finding thus the devil a hard +master, as do most in the end. They cannot compass our quick handling +and tacking, and take us for very witches. So far so good, and better +to come. You and I know the length of their foot of old. Time and light +will kill any hare, and they will find it a long way from Start to +Dunkirk.” + + +“The admiral is in a gracious humor, Leigh, to have vouchsafed you so +long a letter.” + +“St. Catherine! why, that was the galleon we hammered all yesterday!” + said Amyas, stamping on the deck. + +“Of course it was. Well, we shall find her again, doubt not. That +cunning old Drake! how he has contrived to line his own pockets, even +though he had to keep the whole fleet waiting for him.” + +“He has given the lord high admiral the dor, at all events.” + +“Lord Howard is too high-hearted to stop and plunder, Papist though he +is, Amyas.” + +Amyas answered by a growl, for he worshipped Drake, and was not too just +to Papists. + +The fleet did not find Lord Howard till nightfall; he and Lord Sheffield +had been holding on steadfastly the whole night after the Spanish +lanterns, with two ships only. At least there was no doubt now of the +loyalty of English Roman Catholics, and indeed, throughout the fight, +the Howards showed (as if to wipe out the slurs which had been cast on +their loyalty by fanatics) a desperate courage, which might have thrust +less prudent men into destruction, but led them only to victory. Soon a +large Spaniard drifts by, deserted and partly burnt. Some of the men are +for leaving their place to board her; but Amyas stoutly refuses. He has +“come out to fight, and not to plunder; so let the nearest ship to her +have her luck without grudging.” They pass on, and the men pull long +faces when they see the galleon snapped up by their next neighbor, +and towed off to Weymouth, where she proves to be the ship of Miguel +d'Oquenda, the vice-admiral, which they saw last night, all but blown up +by some desperate Netherland gunner, who, being “misused,” was minded to +pay off old scores on his tyrants. + +And so ends the second day; while the Portland rises higher and clearer +every hour. The next morning finds them off the island. Will they try +Portsmouth, though they have spared Plymouth? The wind has shifted +to the north, and blows clear and cool off the white-walled downs of +Weymouth Bay. The Spaniards turn and face the English. They must mean +to stand off and on until the wind shall change, and then to try for +the Needles. At least, they shall have some work to do before they round +Purbeck Isle. + +The English go to the westward again: but it is only to return on the +opposite tack; and now begin a series of manoeuvres, each fleet trying +to get the wind of the other; but the struggle does not last long, and +ere noon the English fleet have slipped close-hauled between the Armada +and the land, and are coming down upon them right before the wind. + +And now begins a fight most fierce and fell. “And fight they did +confusedly, and with variable fortunes; while, on the one hand, the +English manfully rescued the ships of London, which were hemmed in +by the Spaniards; and, on the other side, the Spaniards as stoutly +delivered Recalde being in danger.” “Never was heard such thundering of +ordnance on both sides, which notwithstanding from the Spaniards +flew for the most part over the English without harm. Only Cock, an +Englishman” (whom Prince claims, I hope rightfully, as a worthy of +Devon), “died with honor in the midst of the enemies in a small ship of +his. For the English ships, being far the lesser, charged the enemy with +marvellous agility; and having discharged their broadsides, flew forth +presently into the deep, and levelled their shot directly, without +missing, at those great and unwieldy Spanish ships.” “This was the most +furious and bloody skirmish of all” (though ending only, it seems, in +the capture of a great Venetian and some small craft), “in which the +lord admiral fighting amidst his enemies' fleet, and seeing one of his +captains afar off (Fenner by name, he who fought the seven Portugals at +the Azores), cried, 'O George, what doest thou? Wilt thou now frustrate +my hope and opinion conceived of thee? Wilt thou forsake me now?' With +which words he being enflamed, approached, and did the part of a most +valiant captain;” as, indeed, did all the rest. + +Night falls upon the floating volcano; and morning finds them far past +Purbeck, with the white peak of Freshwater ahead; and pouring out past +the Needles, ship after ship, to join the gallant chase. For now from +all havens, in vessels fitted out at their own expense, flock the +chivalry of England; the Lords Oxford, Northumberland, and Cumberland, +Pallavicin, Brooke, Carew, Raleigh, and Blunt, and many another +honorable name, “as to a set field, where immortal fame and honor was to +be attained.” Spain has staked her chivalry in that mighty cast; not a +noble house of Arragon or Castile but has lent a brother or a son--and +shall mourn the loss of one: and England's gentlemen will measure their +strength once for all against the Cavaliers of Spain. Lord Howard has +sent forward light craft into Portsmouth for ammunition: but they will +scarce return to-night, for the wind falls dead, and all the evening the +two fleets drift helpless with the tide, and shout idle defiance at each +other with trumpet, fife, and drum. + +The sun goes down upon a glassy sea, and rises on a glassy sea again. +But what day is this? The twenty-fifth, St. James's-day, sacred to the +patron saint of Spain. Shall nothing be attempted in his honor by +those whose forefathers have so often seen him with their bodily eyes, +charging in their van upon his snow-white steed, and scattering Paynims +with celestial lance? He might have sent them, certainly, a favoring +breeze; perhaps, he only means to try their faith; at least the galleys +shall attack; and in their van three of the great galliasses (the fourth +lies half-crippled among the fleet) thrash the sea to foam with three +hundred oars apiece; and see, not St. James leading them to victory, but +Lord Howard's Triumph, his brother's Lion, Southwell's Elizabeth Jonas, +Lord Sheffield's Bear, Barker's Victory, and George Fenner's Leicester, +towed stoutly out, to meet them with such salvoes of chain-shot, +smashing oars, and cutting rigging, that had not the wind sprung up +again toward noon, and the Spanish fleet come up to rescue them, they +had shared the fate of Valdez and the Biscayan. And now the fight +becomes general. Frobisher beats down the Spanish admiral's mainmast; +and, attacked himself by Mexia and Recalde, is rescued by Lord Howard; +who, himself endangered in his turn, is rescued in his turn; “while +after that day” (so sickened were they of the English gunnery) “no +galliasse would adventure to fight.” + +And so, with variable fortune, the fight thunders on the livelong +afternoon, beneath the virgin cliffs of Freshwater; while myriad +sea-fowl rise screaming up from every ledge, and spot with their black +wings the snow-white wall of chalk; and the lone shepherd hurries down +the slopes above to peer over the dizzy edge, and forgets the wheatear +fluttering in his snare, while he gazes trembling upon glimpses of tall +masts and gorgeous flags, piercing at times the league-broad veil of +sulphur-smoke which welters far below. + +So fares St. James's-day, as Baal's did on Carmel in old time, “Either +he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey; or peradventure +he sleepeth, and must be awaked.” At least, the only fire by which he +has answered his votaries, has been that of English cannon: and the +Armada, “gathering itself into a roundel,” will fight no more, but make +the best of its way to Calais, where perhaps the Guises' faction may +have a French force ready to assist them, and then to Dunkirk, to join +with Parma and the great flotilla of the Netherlands. + +So on, before “a fair Etesian gale,” which follows clear and bright +out of the south-southwest, glide forward the two great fleets, past +Brighton Cliffs and Beachy Head, Hastings and Dungeness. Is it a battle +or a triumph? For by sea Lord Howard, instead of fighting is rewarding; +and after Lord Thomas Howard, Lord Sheffield, Townsend, and Frobisher +have received at his hands that knighthood, which was then more +honorable than a peerage, old Admiral Hawkins kneels and rises up Sir +John, and shaking his shoulders after the accolade, observes to the +representative of majesty, that his “old woman will hardly know herself +again, when folks call her My Lady.” + +And meanwhile the cliffs are lined with pike-men and musketeers, and by +every countryman and groom who can bear arms, led by their squires and +sheriffs, marching eastward as fast as their weapons let them, towards +the Dover shore. And not with them alone. From many a mile inland come +down women and children, and aged folk in wagons, to join their feeble +shouts, and prayers which are not feeble, to that great cry of mingled +faith and fear which ascends to the throne of God from the spectators of +Britain's Salamis. + +Let them pray on. The danger is not over yet, though Lord Howard has had +news from Newhaven that the Guises will not stir against England, and +Seymour and Winter have left their post of observation on the Flemish +shores, to make up the number of the fleet to an hundred and forty +sail--larger, slightly, than that of the Spanish fleet, but of not more +than half the tonnage, or one third the number of men. The Spaniards are +dispirited and battered, but unbroken still; and as they slide to their +anchorage in Calais Roads on the Saturday evening of that most memorable +week, all prudent men know well that England's hour is come, and that +the bells which will call all Christendom to church upon the morrow +morn, will be either the death-knell or the triumphal peal of the +Reformed faith throughout the world. + +A solemn day that Sabbath must have been in country and in town. And +many a light-hearted coward, doubtless, who had scoffed (as many did) at +the notion of the Armada's coming, because he dare not face the thought, +gave himself up to abject fear, “as he now plainly saw and heard that of +which before he would not be persuaded.” And many a brave man, too, as +he knelt beside his wife and daughters, felt his heart sink to the very +pavement, at the thought of what those beloved ones might be enduring a +few short days hence, from a profligate and fanatical soldiery, or from +the more deliberate fiendishness of the Inquisition. The massacre of St. +Bartholomew, the fires of Smithfield, the immolation of the Moors, +the extermination of the West Indians, the fantastic horrors of the +Piedmontese persecution, which make unreadable the too truthful pages +of Morland,--these were the spectres, which, not as now, dim and distant +through the mist of centuries, but recent, bleeding from still gaping +wounds, flitted before the eyes of every Englishman, and filled his +brain and heart with fire. + +He knew full well the fate in store for him and his. One false step, and +the unspeakable doom which, not two generations afterwards, befell the +Lutherans of Magdeburg, would have befallen every town from London to +Carlisle. All knew the hazard, as they prayed that day, and many a day +before and after, throughout England and the Netherlands. And none knew +it better than she who was the guiding spirit of that devoted land, +and the especial mark of the invaders' fury; and who, by some Divine +inspiration (as men then not unwisely held), devised herself the daring +stroke which was to anticipate the coming blow. + +But where is Amyas Leigh all this while? Day after day he has been +seeking the Sta. Catharina in the thickest of the press, and cannot come +at her, cannot even hear of her: one moment he dreads that she has sunk +by night, and balked him of his prey; the next, that she has repaired +her damages, and will escape him after all. He is moody, discontented, +restless, even (for the first time in his life) peevish with his men. He +can talk of nothing but Don Guzman; he can find no better employment, +at every spare moment, than taking his sword out of the sheath, and +handling it, fondling it, talking to it even, bidding it not to fail him +in the day of vengeance. At last, he has sent to Squire, the armorer, +for a whetstone, and, half-ashamed of his own folly, whets and polishes +it in bye-corners, muttering to himself. That one fixed thought of +selfish vengeance has possessed his whole mind; he forgets England's +present need, her past triumph, his own safety, everything but his +brother's blood. And yet this is the day for which he has been longing +ever since he brought home that magic horn as a fifteen years boy; the +day when he should find himself face to face with an invader, and +that invader Antichrist himself. He has believed for years with Drake, +Hawkins, Grenville, and Raleigh, that he was called and sent into the +world only to fight the Spaniard: and he is fighting him now, in such a +cause, for such a stake, within such battle-lists, as he will never +see again: and yet he is not content, and while throughout that gallant +fleet, whole crews are receiving the Communion side by side, and rising +with cheerful faces to shake hands, and to rejoice that they are sharers +in Britain's Salamis, Amyas turns away from the holy elements. + +“I cannot communicate, Sir John. Charity with all men? I hate, if ever +man hated on earth.” + +“You hate the Lord's foes only, Captain Leigh.” + +“No, Jack, I hate my own as well.” + +“But no one in the fleet, sir?” + +“Don't try to put me off with the same Jesuit's quibble which that false +knave Parson Fletcher invented for one of Doughty's men, to drug his +conscience withal when he was plotting against his own admiral. No, +Jack, I hate one of whom you know; and somehow that hatred of him keeps +me from loving any human being. I am in love and charity with no man, +Sir John Brimblecombe--not even with you! Go your ways in God's name, +sir! and leave me and the devil alone together, or you'll find my words +are true.” + +Jack departed with a sigh, and while the crew were receiving the +Communion on deck, Amyas sate below in the cabin sharpening his sword, +and after it, called for a boat and went on board Drake's ship to ask +news of the Sta. Catharina, and listened scowling to the loud chants and +tinkling bells, which came across the water from the Spanish fleet. At +last, Drake was summoned by the lord admiral, and returned with a secret +commission, which ought to bear fruit that night; and Amyas, who had +gone with him, helped him till nightfall, and then returned to his own +ship as Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, to the joy and glory of every soul on +board, except his moody self. + +So there, the livelong summer Sabbath-day, before the little high-walled +town and the long range of yellow sandhills, lie those two mighty +armaments, scowling at each other, hardly out of gunshot. Messenger +after messenger is hurrying towards Bruges to the Duke of Parma, for +light craft which can follow these nimble English somewhat better than +their own floating castles; and, above all, entreating him to put to sea +at once with all his force. The duke is not with his forces at Dunkirk, +but on the future field of Waterloo, paying his devotions to St. Mary +of Halle in Hainault, in order to make all sure in his Pantheon, and +already sees in visions of the night that gentle-souled and pure-lipped +saint, Cardinal Allen, placing the crown of England on his head. He +returns for answer, first, that his victual is not ready; next, that his +Dutch sailors, who have been kept at their post for many a week at the +sword's point, have run away like water; and thirdly, that over and +above all, he cannot come, so “strangely provided” of great ordnance and +musketeers are those five-and-thirty Dutch ships, in which round-sterned +and stubborn-hearted heretics watch, like terriers at a rat's hole, the +entrance of Nieuwport and Dunkirk. Having ensured the private patronage +of St. Mary of Halle, he will return to-morrow to make experience of its +effects: but only hear across the flats of Dixmude the thunder of the +fleets, and at Dunkirk the open curses of his officers. For while he +has been praying and nothing more, the English have been praying, and +something more; and all that is left for the Prince of Parma is, to +hang a few purveyors, as peace offerings to his sulking army, and then +“chafe,” as Drake says of him, “like a bear robbed of her whelps.” + +For Lord Henry Seymour has brought Lord Howard a letter of command from +Elizabeth's self; and Drake has been carrying it out so busily all that +Sunday long, that by two o'clock on the Monday morning, eight fire-ships +“besmeared with wild-fire, brimstone, pitch, and resin, and all their +ordnance charged with bullets and with stones,” are stealing down the +wind straight for the Spanish fleet, guided by two valiant men of Devon, +Young and Prowse. (Let their names live long in the land!) The ships are +fired, the men of Devon steal back, and in a moment more, the heaven is +red with glare from Dover Cliffs to Gravelines Tower; and weary-hearted +Belgian boors far away inland, plundered and dragooned for many a +hideous year, leap from their beds, and fancy (and not so far wrongly +either) that the day of judgment is come at last, to end their woes, and +hurl down vengeance on their tyrants. + +And then breaks forth one of those disgraceful panics, which so often +follow overweening presumption; and shrieks, oaths, prayers, and +reproaches, make night hideous. There are those too on board who +recollect well enough Jenebelli's fire-ships at Antwerp three years +before, and the wreck which they made of Parma's bridge across the +Scheldt. If these should be like them! And cutting all cables, hoisting +any sails, the Invincible Armada goes lumbering wildly out to sea, every +ship foul of her neighbor. + +The largest of the four galliasses loses her rudder, and drifts helpless +to and fro, hindering and confusing. The duke, having (so the Spaniards +say) weighed his anchor deliberately instead of leaving it behind him, +runs in again after awhile, and fires a signal for return: but his +truant sheep are deaf to the shepherd's pipe, and swearing and praying +by turns, he runs up Channel towards Gravelines picking up stragglers +on his way, who are struggling as they best can among the flats and +shallows: but Drake and Fenner have arrived as soon as he. When Monday's +sun rises on the quaint old castle and muddy dykes of Gravelines town, +the thunder of the cannon recommences, and is not hushed till night. +Drake can hang coolly enough in the rear to plunder when he thinks fit; +but when the battle needs it, none can fight more fiercely, among the +foremost; and there is need now, if ever. That Armada must never be +allowed to re-form. If it does, its left wing may yet keep the English +at bay, while its right drives off the blockading Hollanders from +Dunkirk port, and sets Parma and his flotilla free to join them, and to +sail in doubled strength across to the mouth of Thames. + +So Drake has weighed anchor, and away up Channel with all his squadron, +the moment that he saw the Spanish fleet come up; and with him Fenner +burning to redeem the honor which, indeed, he had never lost; and ere +Fenton, Beeston, Crosse, Ryman, and Lord Southwell can join them, the +Devon ships have been worrying the Spaniards for two full hours into +confusion worse confounded. + +But what is that heavy firing behind them? Alas for the great galliasse! +She lies, like a huge stranded whale, upon the sands where now stands +Calais pier; and Amyas Preston, the future hero of La Guayra, is +pounding her into submission, while a fleet of hoys and drumblers look +on and help, as jackals might the lion. + +Soon, on the south-west horizon, loom up larger and larger two mighty +ships, and behind them sail on sail. As they near a shout greets the +Triumph and the Bear; and on and in the lord high admiral glides stately +into the thickest of the fight. + +True, we have still but some three-and-twenty ships which can cope at +all with some ninety of the Spaniards: but we have dash, and daring, and +the inspiration of utter need. Now, or never, must the mighty struggle +be ended. We worried them off Portland; we must rend them in pieces +now; and in rushes ship after ship, to smash her broadsides through and +through the wooden castles, “sometimes not a pike's length asunder,” + and then out again to re-load, and give place meanwhile to another. The +smaller are fighting with all sails set; the few larger, who, once in, +are careless about coming out again, fight with top-sails loose, and +their main and foreyards close down on deck, to prevent being boarded. +The duke, Oquenda, and Recalde, having with much ado got clear of the +shallows, bear the brunt of the fight to seaward; but in vain. The day +goes against them more and more, as it runs on. Seymour and Winter have +battered the great San Philip into a wreck; her masts are gone by the +board; Pimentelli in the San Matthew comes up to take the mastiffs +off the fainting bull, and finds them fasten on him instead; but the +Evangelist, though smaller, is stouter than the Deacon, and of all the +shot poured into him, not twenty “lackt him thorough.” His masts are +tottering; but sink or strike he will not. + +“Go ahead, and pound his tough hide, Leigh,” roars Drake off the poop +of his ship, while he hammers away at one of the great galliasses. “What +right has he to keep us all waiting?” + +Amyas slips in as best he can between Drake and Winter; as he passes he +shouts to his ancient enemy,-- + +“We are with you, sir; all friends to-day!” and slipping round Winter's +bows, he pours his broadside into those of the San Matthew, and then +glides on to re-load; but not to return. For not a pistol shot to +leeward, worried by three or four small craft, lies an immense galleon; +and on her poop--can he believe his eyes for joy?--the maiden and the +wheel which he has sought so long! + +“There he is!” shouts Amyas, springing to the starboard side of the +ship. The men, too, have already caught sight of that hated sign; a +cheer of fury bursts from every throat. + +“Steady, men!” says Amyas, in a suppressed voice. “Not a shot! Re-load, +and be ready; I must speak with him first;” and silent as the grave, +amid the infernal din, the Vengeance glides up to the Spaniard's +quarter. + +“Don Guzman Maria Magdalena Sotomayor de Soto!” shouts Amyas from the +mizzen rigging, loud and clear amid the roar. + +He has not called in vain. Fearless and graceful as ever, the tall, +mail-clad figure of his foe leaps up upon the poop-railing, twenty feet +above Amyas's head, and shouts through his vizor,-- + +“At your service, sir whosoever you may be.” + +A dozen muskets and arrows are levelled at him; but Amyas frowns them +down. “No man strikes him but I. Spare him, if you kill every other soul +on board. Don Guzman! I am Captain Sir Amyas Leigh; I proclaim you a +traitor and a ravisher, and challenge you once more to single combat, +when and where you will.” + +“You are welcome to come on board me, sir,” answers the Spaniard, in a +clear, quiet tone; “bringing with you this answer, that you lie in your +throat;” and lingering a moment out of bravado, to arrange his scarf, he +steps slowly down again behind the bulwarks. + +“Coward!” shouts Amyas at the top of his voice. + +The Spaniard re-appears instantly. “Why that name, senor, of all +others?” asks he in a cool, stern voice. + +“Because we call men cowards in England, who leave their wives to be +burnt alive by priests.” + +The moment the words had passed Amyas's lips, he felt that they were +cruel and unjust. But it was too late to recall them. The Spaniard +started, clutched his sword-hilt, and then hissed back through his +closed vizor,-- + +“For that word, sirrah, you hang at my yardarm, if Saint Mary gives me +grace.” + +“See that your halter be a silken one, then,” laughed Amyas, “for I +am just dubbed knight.” And he stepped down as a storm of bullets rang +through the rigging round his head; the Spaniards are not as punctilious +as he. + +“Fire!” His ordnance crash through the stern-works of the Spaniard; and +then he sails onward, while her balls go humming harmlessly through his +rigging. + +Half-an-hour has passed of wild noise and fury; three times has the +Vengeance, as a dolphin might, sailed clean round and round the Sta. +Catharina, pouring in broadside after broadside, till the guns are +leaping to the deck-beams with their own heat, and the Spaniard's sides +are slit and spotted in a hundred places. And yet, so high has been his +fire in return, and so strong the deck defences of the Vengeance, that a +few spars broken, and two or three men wounded by musketry, are all her +loss. But still the Spaniard endures, magnificent as ever; it is the +battle of the thresher and the whale; the end is certain, but the work +is long. + +“Can I help you, Captain Leigh?” asked Lord Henry Seymour, as he passes +within oar's length of him, to attack a ship ahead. “The San Matthew has +had his dinner, and is gone on to Medina to ask for a digestive to it.” + +“I thank your lordship: but this is my private quarrel, of which I +spoke. But if your lordship could lend me powder--” + +“Would that I could! But so, I fear, says every other gentleman in the +fleet.” + +A puff of wind clears away the sulphurous veil for a moment; the sea is +clear of ships towards the land; the Spanish fleet are moving again up +Channel, Medina bringing up the rear; only some two miles to their right +hand, the vast hull of the San Philip is drifting up the shore with the +tide, and somewhat nearer the San Matthew is hard at work at her pumps. +They can see the white stream of water pouring down her side. + +“Go in, my lord, and have the pair,” shouts Amyas. + +“No, sir! Forward is a Seymour's cry. We will leave them to pay the +Flushingers' expenses.” And on went Lord Henry, and on shore went the +San Philip at Ostend, to be plundered by the Flushingers; while the +San Matthew, whose captain, “on a hault courage,” had refused to save +himself and his gentlemen on board Medina's ship, went blundering +miserably into the hungry mouths of Captain Peter Vanderduess and four +other valiant Dutchmen, who, like prudent men of Holland, contrived to +keep the galleon afloat till they had emptied her, and then “hung up her +banner in the great church of Leyden, being of such a length, that being +fastened to the roof, it reached unto the very ground.” + +But in the meanwhile, long ere the sun had set, comes down the darkness +of the thunderstorm, attracted, as to a volcano's mouth, to that vast +mass of sulphur-smoke which cloaks the sea for many a mile; and heaven's +artillery above makes answer to man's below. But still, through smoke +and rain, Amyas clings to his prey. She too has seen the northward +movement of the Spanish fleet, and sets her topsails; Amyas calls to +the men to fire high, and cripple her rigging: but in vain: for three or +four belated galleys, having forced their way at last over the shallows, +come flashing and sputtering up to the combatants, and take his fire +off the galleon. Amyas grinds his teeth, and would fain hustle into the +thick of the press once more, in spite of the galleys' beaks. + +“Most heroical captain,” says cary, pulling a long face, “if we do, we +are stove and sunk in five minutes; not to mention that Yeo says he has +not twenty rounds of great cartridge left.” + +So, surely and silent, the Vengeance sheers off, but keeps as near +as she can to the little squadron, all through the night of rain and +thunder which follows. Next morning the sun rises on a clear sky, with +a strong west-north-west breeze, and all hearts are asking what the day +will bring forth. + +They are long past Dunkirk now; the German Ocean is opening before them. +The Spaniards, sorely battered, and lessened in numbers, have, during +the night, regained some sort of order. The English hang on their skirts +a mile or two behind. They have no ammunition, and must wait for more. +To Amyas's great disgust, the Sta. Catharina has rejoined her fellows +during the night. + +“Never mind,” says Cary; “she can neither dive nor fly, and as long as +she is above water, we--What is the admiral about?” + +He is signalling Lord Henry Seymour and his squadron. Soon they +tack, and come down the wind for the coast of Flanders. Parma must be +blockaded still; and the Hollanders are likely to be too busy with their +plunder to do it effectually. Suddenly there is a stir in the Spanish +fleet. Medina and the rearmost ships turn upon the English. What can it +mean? Will they offer battle once more? If so, it were best to get +out of their way, for we have nothing wherewith to fight them. So the +English lie close to the wind. They will let them pass, and return to +their old tactic of following and harassing. + +“Good-bye to Seymour,” says Cary, “if he is caught between them and +Parma's flotilla. They are going to Dunkirk.” + +“Impossible! They will not have water enough to reach his light craft. +Here comes a big ship right upon us! Give him all you have left, lads; +and if he will fight us, lay him alongside, and die boarding.” + +They gave him what they had, and hulled him with every shot; but his +huge side stood silent as the grave. He had not wherewithal to return +the compliment. + +“As I live, he is cutting loose the foot of his mainsail! the villain +means to run.” + +“There go the rest of them! Victoria!” shouted Cary, as one after +another, every Spaniard set all the sail he could. + +There was silence for a few minutes throughout the English fleet; +and then cheer upon cheer of triumph rent the skies. It was over. The +Spaniard had refused battle, and thinking only of safety, was pressing +downward toward the Straits again. The Invincible Armada had cast away +its name, and England was saved. + +“But he will never get there, sir,” said old Yeo, who had come upon deck +to murmur his Nunc Domine, and gaze upon that sight beyond all human +faith or hope: “Never, never will he weather the Flanders shore, against +such a breeze as is coming up. Look to the eye of the wind, sir, and see +how the Lord is fighting for His people!” + +Yes, down it came, fresher and stiffer every minute out of the gray +north-west, as it does so often after a thunder-storm; and the sea began +to rise high and white under the “Claro Aquilone,” till the Spaniards +were fain to take in all spare canvas, and lie-to as best they could; +while the English fleet, lying-to also, awaited an event which was in +God's hands and not in theirs. + +“They will be all ashore on Zealand before the afternoon,” murmured +Amyas; “and I have lost my labor! Oh, for powder, powder, powder! to go +in and finish it at once!” + +“Oh, sir,” said Yeo, “don't murmur against the Lord in the very day of +His mercies. It is hard, to be sure; but His will be done.” + +“Could we not borrow powder from Drake there?” + +“Look at the sea, sir!” + +And, indeed, the sea was far too rough for any such attempt. The +Spaniards neared and neared the fatal dunes, which fringed the shore for +many a dreary mile; and Amyas had to wait weary hours, growling like a +dog who has had the bone snatched out of his mouth, till the day wore +on; when, behold, the wind began to fall as rapidly as it had risen. A +savage joy rose in Amyas's heart. + +“They are safe! safe for us! Who will go and beg us powder? A cartridge +here and a cartridge there?--anything to set to work again!” + +Cary volunteered, and returned in a couple of hours with some quantity: +but he was on board again only just in time, for the south-wester had +recovered the mastery of the skies, and Spaniards and English were +moving away; but this time northward. Whither now? To Scotland? Amyas +knew not, and cared not, provided he was in the company of Don Guzman de +Soto. + +The Armada was defeated, and England saved. But such great undertakings +seldom end in one grand melodramatic explosion of fireworks, through +which the devil arises in full roar to drag Dr. Faustus forever into the +flaming pit. On the contrary, the devil stands by his servants to the +last, and tries to bring off his shattered forces with drums beating and +colors flying; and, if possible, to lull his enemies into supposing that +the fight is ended, long before it really is half over. All which the +good Lord Howard of Effingham knew well, and knew, too, that Medina had +one last card to play, and that was the filial affection of that dutiful +and chivalrous son, James of Scotland. True, he had promised faith to +Elizabeth: but that was no reason why he should keep it. He had been +hankering and dabbling after Spain for years past, for its absolution +was dear to his inmost soul; and Queen Elizabeth had had to warn him, +scold him, call him a liar, for so doing; so the Armada might still find +shelter and provision in the Firth of Forth. But whether Lord Howard +knew or not, Medina did not know, that Elizabeth had played her card +cunningly, in the shape of one of those appeals to the purse, which, to +James's dying day, overweighed all others save appeals to his vanity. +“The title of a dukedom in England, a yearly pension of 5000 pounds, a +guard at the queen's charge, and other matters” (probably more hounds +and deer), had steeled the heart of the King of Scots, and sealed the +Firth of Forth. Nevertheless, as I say, Lord Howard, like the rest of +Elizabeth's heroes, trusted James just as much as James trusted others; +and therefore thought good to escort the Armada until it was safely past +the domains of that most chivalrous and truthful Solomon. But on the +4th of August, his fears, such as they were, were laid to rest. The +Spaniards left the Scottish coast and sailed away for Norway; and the +game was played out, and the end was come, as the end of such matters +generally comes, by gradual decay, petty disaster, and mistake; till +the snow-mountain, instead of being blown tragically and heroically to +atoms, melts helplessly and pitiably away. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +HOW AMYAS THREW HIS SWORD INTO THE SEA + + “Full fathom deep thy father lies; + Of his bones are corals made; + Those are pearls which were his eyes; + Nothing of him that doth fade, + But doth suffer a sea-change + Into something rich and strange; + Fairies hourly ring his knell, + Hark! I hear them. Ding dong bell.” + + The Tempest. + +Yes, it is over; and the great Armada is vanquished. It is lulled for +awhile, the everlasting war which is in heaven, the battle of Iran and +Turan, of the children of light and of darkness, of Michael and his +angels against Satan and his fiends; the battle which slowly and seldom, +once in the course of many centuries, culminates and ripens into a +day of judgment, and becomes palpable and incarnate; no longer a mere +spiritual fight, but one of flesh and blood, wherein simple men may +choose their sides without mistake, and help God's cause not merely with +prayer and pen, but with sharp shot and cold steel. A day of judgment +has come, which has divided the light from the darkness, and the sheep +from the goats, and tried each man's work by the fire; and, behold, the +devil's work, like its maker, is proved to have been, as always, a lie +and a sham, and a windy boast, a bladder which collapses at the merest +pinprick. Byzantine empires, Spanish Armadas, triple-crowned papacies, +Russian despotisms, this is the way of them, and will be to the end of +the world. One brave blow at the big bullying phantom, and it vanishes +in sulphur-stench; while the children of Israel, as of old, see the +Egyptians dead on the sea-shore,--they scarce know how, save that God +has done it, and sing the song of Moses and of the Lamb. + +And now, from England and the Netherlands, from Germany and Geneva, and +those poor Vaudois shepherd-saints, whose bones for generations past + + “Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold;” + +to be, indeed, the seed of the Church, and a germ of new life, liberty, +and civilization, even in these very days returning good for evil to +that Piedmont which has hunted them down like the partridges on the +mountains;--from all of Europe, from all of mankind, I had almost said, +in which lay the seed of future virtue and greatness, of the destinies +of the new-discovered world, and the triumphs of the coming age of +science, arose a shout of holy joy, such as the world had not heard +for many a weary and bloody century; a shout which was the prophetic +birth-paean of North America, Australia, New Zealand, the Pacific +Islands, of free commerce and free colonization over the whole earth. + +“There was in England, by the commandment of her majesty,” says Van +Meteran, “and likewise in the United Provinces, by the direction of the +States, a solemn festival day publicly appointed, wherein all persons +were solemnly enjoined to resort unto ye Church, and there to render +thanks and praises unto God, and ye preachers were commanded to exhort +ye people thereunto. The aforesaid solemnity was observed upon the 29th +of November: which day was wholly spent in fasting, prayer, and giving +of thanks. + +“Likewise the Queen's Majesty herself, imitating ye ancient Romans, rode +into London in triumph, in regard of her own and her subjects' glorious +deliverance. For being attended upon very solemnly by all ye principal +Estates and officers of her Realm, she was carried through her said City +of London in a triumphant Chariot, and in robes of triumph, from her +Palace unto ye said Cathedral Church of St. Paul, out of ye which ye +Ensigns and Colours of ye vanquished Spaniards hung displayed. And +all ye Citizens of London, in their liveries, stood on either side ye +street, by their several Companies, with their ensigns and banners, and +the streets were hanged on both sides with blue Cloth, which, together +with ye foresaid banners, yielded a very stately and gallant prospect. +Her Majestie being entered into ye Church together with her Clergy and +Nobles, gave thanks unto God, and caused a public Sermon to be preached +before her at Paul's Cross; wherein none other argument was handled, +but that praise, honour, and glory might be rendered unto God, and that +God's Name might be extolled by thanksgiving. And with her own princely +voice she most Christianly exhorted ye people to do ye same; whereunto +ye people, with a loud acclamation, wished her a most long and happy +life to ye confusion of her foes.” + +Yes, as the medals struck on the occasion said, “It came, it saw, and it +fled!” And whither? Away and northward, like a herd of frightened deer, +past the Orkneys and Shetlands, catching up a few hapless fishermen as +guides; past the coast of Norway, there, too, refused water and food by +the brave descendants of the Vikings; and on northward ever towards the +lonely Faroes, and the everlasting dawn which heralds round the Pole the +midnight sun. + +Their water is failing; the cattle must go overboard; and the wild +northern sea echoes to the shrieks of drowning horses. They must +homeward at least, somehow, each as best he can. Let them meet again +at Cape Finisterre, if indeed they ever meet. Medina Sidonia, with some +five-and twenty of the soundest and best victualled ships, will lead +the way, and leave the rest to their fate. He is soon out of sight; and +forty more, the only remnant of that mighty host, come wandering wearily +behind, hoping to make the south-west coast of Ireland, and have help, +or, at least, fresh water there, from their fellow Romanists. Alas for +them!-- + + “Make Thou their way dark and slippery, + And follow them up ever with Thy storm.” + +For now comes up from the Atlantic, gale on gale; and few of that +hapless remnant reached the shores of Spain. + +And where are Amyas and the Vengeance all this while? + +At the fifty-seventh degree of latitude, the English fleet, finding +themselves growing short of provision, and having been long since out of +powder and ball, turn southward toward home, “thinking it best to leave +the Spaniard to those uncouth and boisterous northern seas.” A few +pinnaces are still sent onward to watch their course: and the English +fleet, caught in the same storms which scattered the Spaniards, “with +great danger and industry reached Harwich port, and there provide +themselves of victuals and ammunition,” in case the Spaniards should +return; but there is no need for that caution. Parma, indeed, who cannot +believe that the idol at Halle, after all his compliments to it, will +play him so scurvy a trick, will watch for weeks on Dunkirk dunes, +hoping against hope for the Armada's return, casting anchors, and +spinning rigging to repair their losses. + + “But lang, lang may his ladies sit, + With their fans intill their hand, + Before they see Sir Patrick Spens + Come sailing to the land.” + +The Armada is away on the other side of Scotland, and Amyas is following +in its wake. + +For when the lord high admiral determined to return, Amyas asked +leave to follow the Spaniard; and asked, too, of Sir John Hawkins, +who happened to be at hand, such ammunition and provision as could be +afforded him, promising to repay the same like an honest man, out of +his plunder if he lived, out of his estate if he died; lodging for that +purpose bills in the hands of Sir John, who, as a man of business, +took them, and put them in his pocket among the thimbles, string, and +tobacco; after which Amyas, calling his men together, reminded them once +more of the story of the Rose of Torridge and Don Guzman de Soto, and +then asked: + +“Men of Bideford, will you follow me? There will be plunder for those +who love plunder; revenge for those who love revenge; and for all of us +(for we all love honor) the honor of having never left the chase as long +as there was a Spanish flag in English seas.” + +And every soul on board replied, that they would follow Sir Amyas Leigh +around the world. + +There is no need for me to detail every incident of that long and weary +chase; how they found the Sta. Catharina, attacked her, and had to sheer +off, she being rescued by the rest; how when Medina's squadron left the +crippled ships behind, they were all but taken or sunk, by thrusting +into the midst of the Spanish fleet to prevent her escaping with Medina; +how they crippled her, so that she could not beat to windward out into +the ocean, but was fain to run south, past the Orkneys, and down through +the Minch, between Cape Wrath and Lewis; how the younger hands were +ready to mutiny, because Amyas, in his stubborn haste, ran past two or +three noble prizes which were all but disabled, among others one of +the great galliasses, and the two great Venetians, La Ratta and La +Belanzara--which were afterwards, with more than thirty other vessels, +wrecked on the west coast of Ireland; how he got fresh water, in spite +of certain “Hebridean Scots” of Skye, who, after reviling him in an +unknown tongue, fought with him awhile, and then embraced him and his +men with howls of affection, and were not much more decently clad, nor +more civilized, than his old friends of California; how he pacified his +men by letting them pick the bones of a great Venetian which was going +on shore upon Islay (by which they got booty enough to repay them for +the whole voyage), and offended them again by refusing to land and +plunder two great Spanish wrecks on the Mull of Cantire (whose crews, by +the by, James tried to smuggle off secretly into Spain in ships of his +own, wishing to play, as usual, both sides of the game at once; but +the Spaniards were stopped at Yarmouth till the council's pleasure was +known--which was, of course, to let the poor wretches go on their way, +and be hanged elsewhere); how they passed a strange island, half black, +half white, which the wild people called Raghary, but Cary christened it +“the drowned magpie;” how the Sta. Catharina was near lost on the Isle +of Man, and then put into Castleton (where the Manx-men slew a whole +boat's-crew with their arrows), and then put out again, when Amyas +fought with her a whole day, and shot away her mainyard; how the +Spaniard blundered down the coast of Wales, not knowing whither he went; +how they were both nearly lost on Holyhead, and again on Bardsey Island; +how they got on a lee shore in Cardigan Bay, before a heavy westerly +gale, and the Sta. Catharina ran aground on Sarn David, one of those +strange subaqueous pebble-dykes which are said to be the remnants of the +lost land of Gwalior, destroyed by the carelessness of Prince Seithenin +the drunkard, at whose name each loyal Welshman spits; how she got off +again at the rising of the tide, and fought with Amyas a fourth time; +how the wind changed, and she got round St. David's Head;--these, and +many more moving incidents of this eventful voyage, I must pass over +without details, and go on to the end; for it is time that the end +should come. + +It was now the sixteenth day of the chase. They had seen, the evening +before, St. David's Head, and then the Welsh coast round Milford +Haven, looming out black and sharp before the blaze of the inland +thunder-storm; and it had lightened all round them during the fore part +of the night, upon a light south-western breeze. + +In vain they had strained their eyes through the darkness, to catch, by +the fitful glare of the flashes, the tall masts of the Spaniard. Of +one thing at least they were certain, that with the wind as it was, she +could not have gone far to the westward; and to attempt to pass them +again, and go northward, was more than she dare do. She was probably +lying-to ahead of them, perhaps between them and the land; and when, a +little after midnight, the wind chopped up to the west, and blew stiffly +till day break, they felt sure that, unless she had attempted the +desperate expedient of running past them, they had her safe in the mouth +of the Bristol Channel. Slowly and wearily broke the dawn, on such a day +as often follows heavy thunder; a sunless, drizzly day, roofed with low +dingy cloud, barred and netted, and festooned with black, a sign that +the storm is only taking breath awhile before it bursts again; while all +the narrow horizon is dim and spongy with vapor drifting before a chilly +breeze. As the day went on, the breeze died down, and the sea fell to a +long glassy foam-flecked roll, while overhead brooded the inky sky, and +round them the leaden mist shut out alike the shore and the chase. + +Amyas paced the sloppy deck fretfully and fiercely. He knew that the +Spaniard could not escape; but he cursed every moment which lingered +between him and that one great revenge which blackened all his soul. +The men sate sulkily about the deck, and whistled for a wind; the sails +flapped idly against the masts; and the ship rolled in the long troughs +of the sea, till her yard-arms almost dipped right and left. + +“Take care of those guns. You will have something loose next,” growled +Amyas. + +“We will take care of the guns, if the Lord will take care of the wind,” + said Yeo. + +“We shall have plenty before night,” said Cary, “and thunder too.” + +“So much the better,” said Amyas. “It may roar till it splits the +heavens, if it does but let me get my work done.” + +“He's not far off, I warrant,” said Cary. “One lift of the cloud, and we +should see him.” + +“To windward of us, as likely as not,” said Amyas. “The devil fights +for him, I believe. To have been on his heels sixteen days, and not sent +this through him yet!” And he shook his sword impatiently. + +So the morning wore away, without a sign of living thing, not even a +passing gull; and the black melancholy of the heaven reflected itself +in the black melancholy of Amyas. Was he to lose his prey after all? +The thought made him shudder with rage and disappointment. It was +intolerable. Anything but that. + +“No, God!” he cried, “let me but once feel this in his accursed heart, +and then--strike me dead, if Thou wilt!” + +“The Lord have mercy on us,” cried John Brimblecombe. “What have you +said?” + +“What is that to you, sir? There, they are piping to dinner. Go down. I +shall not come.” + +And Jack went down, and talked in a half-terrified whisper of Amyas's +ominous words. + +All thought that they portended some bad luck, except old Yeo. + +“Well, Sir John,” said he, “and why not? What better can the Lord do +for a man, than take him home when he has done his work? Our captain is +wilful and spiteful, and must needs kill his man himself; while for me, +I don't care how the Don goes, provided he does go. I owe him no grudge, +nor any man. May the Lord give him repentance, and forgive him all his +sins: but if I could but see him once safe ashore, as he may be ere +nightfall, on the Mortestone or the back of Lundy, I would say, 'Lord, +now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,' even if it were the +lightning which was sent to fetch me.” + +“But, master Yeo, a sudden death?” + +“And why not a sudden death, Sir John? Even fools long for a short life +and a merry one, and shall not the Lord's people pray for a short death +and a merry one? Let it come as it will to old Yeo. Hark! there's the +captain's voice!” + +“Here she is!” thundered Amyas from the deck; and in an instant all were +scrambling up the hatchway as fast as the frantic rolling of the ship +would let them. + +Yes. There she was. The cloud had lifted suddenly, and to the south a +ragged bore of blue sky let a long stream of sunshine down on her tall +masts and stately hull, as she lay rolling some four or five miles to +the eastward: but as for land, none was to be seen. + +“There she is; and here we are,” said Cary; “but where is here? and +where is there? How is the tide, master?” + +“Running up Channel by this time, sir.” + +“What matters the tide?” said Amyas, devouring the ship with terrible +and cold blue eyes. “Can't we get at her?” + +“Not unless some one jumps out and shoves behind,” said Cary. “I shall +down again and finish that mackerel, if this roll has not chucked it to +the cockroaches under the table.” + +“Don't jest, Will! I can't stand it,” said Amyas, in a voice which +quivered so much that Cary looked at him. His whole frame was trembling +like an aspen. Cary took his arm, and drew him aside. + +“Dear old lad,” said he, as they leaned over the bulwarks, “what is +this? You are not yourself, and have not been these four days.” + +“No. I am not Amyas Leigh. I am my brother's avenger. Do not reason +with me, Will: when it is over I shall be merry old Amyas again,” and he +passed his hand over his brow. + +“Do you believe,” said he, after a moment, “that men can be possessed by +devils?” + +“The Bible says so.” + +“If my cause were not a just one, I should fancy I had a devil in me. My +throat and heart are as hot as the pit. Would to God it were done, for +done it must be! Now go.” + +Cary went away with a shudder. As he passed down the hatchway he looked +back. Amyas had got the hone out of his pocket, and was whetting away +again at his sword-edge, as if there was some dreadful doom on him, to +whet, and whet forever. + +The weary day wore on. The strip of blue sky was curtained over again, +and all was dismal as before, though it grew sultrier every moment; and +now and then a distant mutter shook the air to westward. Nothing could +be done to lessen the distance between the ships, for the Vengeance had +had all her boats carried away but one, and that was much too small +to tow her: and while the men went down again to finish dinner, Amyas +worked on at his sword, looking up every now and then suddenly at the +Spaniard, as if to satisfy himself that it was not a vision which had +vanished. + +About two Yeo came up to him. + +“He is ours safely now, sir. The tide has been running to the eastward +for this two hours.” + +“Safe as a fox in a trap. Satan himself cannot take him from us!” + +“But God may,” said Brimblecombe, simply. + +“Who spoke to you, sir? If I thought that He--There comes the thunder at +last!” + +And as he spoke an angry growl from the westward heavens seemed to +answer his wild words, and rolled and loudened nearer and nearer, till +right over their heads it crashed against some cloud-cliff far above, +and all was still. + +Each man looked in the other's face: but Amyas was unmoved. + +“The storm is coming,” said he, “and the wind in it. It will be +Eastward-ho now, for once, my merry men all!” + +“Eastward-ho never brought us luck,” said Jack in an undertone to Cary. +But by this time all eyes were turned to the north-west, where a black +line along the horizon began to define the boundary of sea and air, till +now all dim in mist. + +“There comes the breeze.” + +“And there the storm, too.” + +And with that strangely accelerating pace which some storms seem to +possess, the thunder, which had been growling slow and seldom far away, +now rang peal on peal along the cloudy floor above their heads. + +“Here comes the breeze. Round with the yards, or we shall be taken +aback.” + +The yards creaked round; the sea grew crisp around them; the hot air +swept their cheeks, tightened every rope, filled every sail, bent her +over. A cheer burst from the men as the helm went up, and they staggered +away before the wind, right down upon the Spaniard, who lay still +becalmed. + +“There is more behind, Amyas,” said Cary. “Shall we not shorten sail a +little?” + +“No. Hold on every stitch,” said Amyas. “Give me the helm, man. +Boatswain, pipe away to clear for fight.” + +It was done, and in ten minutes the men were all at quarters, while +the thunder rolled louder and louder overhead, and the breeze freshened +fast. + +“The dog has it now. There he goes!” said Cary. + +“Right before the wind. He has no liking to face us.” + +“He is running into the jaws of destruction,” said Yeo. “An hour more +will send him either right up the Channel, or smack on shore somewhere.” + +“There! he has put his helm down. I wonder if he sees land?” + +“He is like a March hare beat out of his country,” said Cary, “and don't +know whither to run next.” + +Cary was right. In ten minutes more the Spaniard fell off again, and +went away dead down wind, while the Vengeance gained on him fast. +After two hours more, the four miles had diminished to one, while the +lightning flashed nearer and nearer as the storm came up; and from the +vast mouth of a black cloud-arch poured so fierce a breeze that Amyas +yielded unwillingly to hints which were growing into open murmurs, and +bade shorten sail. + +On they rushed with scarcely lessened speed, the black arch following +fast, curtained by the flat gray sheet of pouring rain, before which the +water was boiling in a long white line; while every moment behind the +watery veil, a keen blue spark leapt down into the sea, or darted zigzag +through the rain. + +“We shall have it now, and with a vengeance; this will try your tackle, +master,” said Cary. + +The functionary answered with a shrug, and turned up the collar of his +rough frock, as the first drops flew stinging round his ears. Another +minute and the squall burst full upon them, in rain, which cut like +hail--hail which lashed the sea into froth, and wind which whirled off +the heads of the surges, and swept the waters into one white seething +waste. And above them, and behind them and before them, the lightning +leapt and ran, dazzling and blinding, while the deep roar of the thunder +was changed to sharp ear-piercing cracks. + +“Get the arms and ammunition under cover, and then below with you all,” + shouted Amyas from the helm. + +“And heat the pokers in the galley fire,” said Yeo, “to be ready if the +rain puts our linstocks out. I hope you'll let me stay on deck, sir, in +case--” + +“I must have some one, and who better than you? Can you see the chase?” + +No; she was wrapped in the gray whirlwind. She might be within half a +mile of them, for aught they could have seen of her. + +And now Amyas and his old liegeman were alone. Neither spoke; each knew +the other's thoughts, and knew that they were his own. The squall blew +fiercer and fiercer, the rain poured heavier and heavier. Where was the +Spaniard? + +“If he has laid-to, we may overshoot him, sir!” + +“If he has tried to lay-to, he will not have a sail left in the +bolt-ropes, or perhaps a mast on deck. I know the stiff-neckedness of +those Spanish tubs. Hurrah! there he is, right on our larboard bow!” + +There she was indeed, two musket-shots' off, staggering away with canvas +split and flying. + +“He has been trying to hull, sir, and caught a buffet,” said Yeo, +rubbing his hands. “What shall we do now?” + +“Range alongside, if it blow live imps and witches, and try our luck +once more. Pah! how this lightning dazzles!” + +On they swept, gaining fast on the Spaniard. “Call the men up, and to +quarters; the rain will be over in ten minutes.” + +Yeo ran forward to the gangway; and sprang back again, with a face white +and wild-- + +“Land right ahead! Port your helm, sir! For the love of God, port your +helm!” + +Amyas, with the strength of a bull, jammed the helm down, while Yeo +shouted to the men below. + +She swung round. The masts bent like whips; crack went the fore-sail +like a cannon. What matter? Within two hundred yards of them was the +Spaniard; in front of her, and above her, a huge dark bank rose through +the dense hail, and mingled with the clouds; and at its foot, plainer +every moment, pillars and spouts of leaping foam. + +“What is it, Morte? Hartland?” + +It might be anything for thirty miles. + +“Lundy!” said Yeo. “The south end! I see the head of the Shutter in the +breakers! Hard a-port yet, and get her close-hauled as you can, and the +Lord may have mercy on us still! Look at the Spaniard!” + +Yes, look at the Spaniard! + +On their left hand, as they broached-to, the wall of granite sloped down +from the clouds toward an isolated peak of rock, some two hundred feet +in height. Then a hundred yards of roaring breaker upon a sunken shelf, +across which the race of the tide poured like a cataract; then, amid a +column of salt smoke, the Shutter, like a huge black fang, rose waiting +for its prey; and between the Shutter and the land, the great galleon +loomed dimly through the storm. + +He, too, had seen his danger, and tried to broach-to. But his clumsy +mass refused to obey the helm; he struggled a moment, half hid in foam; +fell away again, and rushed upon his doom. + +“Lost! lost! lost!” cried Amyas madly, and throwing up his hands, let go +the tiller. Yeo caught it just in time. + +“Sir! sir! What are you at? We shall clear the rock yet.” + +“Yes!” shouted Amyas, in his frenzy; “but he will not!” + +Another minute. The galleon gave a sudden jar, and stopped. Then one +long heave and bound, as if to free herself. And then her bows lighted +clean upon the Shutter. + +An awful silence fell on every English soul. They heard not the roaring +of wind and surge; they saw not the blinding flashes of the lightning; +but they heard one long ear-piercing wail to every saint in heaven rise +from five hundred human throats; they saw the mighty ship heel over from +the wind, and sweep headlong down the cataract of the race, plunging her +yards into the foam, and showing her whole black side even to her keel, +till she rolled clean over, and vanished for ever and ever. + +“Shame!” cried Amyas, hurling his sword far into the sea, “to lose my +right, my right! when it was in my very grasp! Unmerciful!” + +A crack which rent the sky, and made the granite ring and quiver; a +bright world of flame, and then a blank of utter darkness, against which +stood out, glowing red-hot every mast, and sail, and rock, and Salvation +Yeo as he stood just in front of Amyas, the tiller in his hand. All +red-hot, transfigured into fire; and behind, the black, black night. + + * * * * * + +A whisper, a rustling close beside him, and Brimblecombe's voice said +softly: + +“Give him more wine, Will; his eyes are opening.” + +“Hey day?” said Amyas, faintly, “not past the Shutter yet! How long she +hangs in the wind!” + +“We are long past the Shutter, Sir Amyas,” said Brimblecombe. + +“Are you mad? Cannot I trust my own eyes?” + +There was no answer for awhile. + +“We are past the Shutter, indeed,” said Cary, very gently, “and lying in +the cove at Lundy.” + +“Will you tell me that that is not the Shutter, and that the +Devil's-limekiln, and that the cliff--that villain Spaniard only +gone--and that Yeo is not standing here by me, and Cary there forward, +and--why, by the by, where are you, Jack Brimblecombe, who were talking +to me this minute?” + +“Oh, Sir Amyas Leigh, dear Sir Amyas Leigh,” blubbered poor Jack, “put +out your hand, and feel where you are, and pray the Lord to forgive you +for your wilfulness!” + +A great trembling fell upon Amyas Leigh; half fearfully he put out his +hand; he felt that he was in his hammock, with the deck beams close +above his head. The vision which had been left upon his eye-balls +vanished like a dream. + +“What is this? I must be asleep? What has happened? Where am I?” + +“In your cabin, Amyas,” said Cary. + +“What? And where is Yeo?” + +“Yeo is gone where he longed to go, and as he longed to go. The same +flash which struck you down, struck him dead.” + +“Dead? Lightning? Any more hurt? I must go and see. Why, what is this?” + and Amyas passed his hand across his eyes. “It is all dark--dark, as I +live!” And he passed his hand over his eyes again. + +There was another dead silence. Amyas broke it. + +“Oh, God!” shrieked the great proud sea-captain, “Oh, God, I am blind! +blind! blind!” And writhing in his great horror, he called to Cary to +kill him and put him out of his misery, and then wailed for his +mother to come and help him, as if he had been a boy once more; while +Brimblecombe and Cary, and the sailors who crowded round the cabin-door, +wept as if they too had been boys once more. + +Soon his fit of frenzy passed off, and he sank back exhausted. + +They lifted him into their remaining boat, rowed him ashore, carried him +painfully up the hill to the old castle, and made a bed for him on +the floor, in the very room in which Don Guzman and Rose Salterne had +plighted their troth to each other, five wild years before. + +Three miserable days were passed within that lonely tower. Amyas, +utterly unnerved by the horror of his misfortune, and by the +over-excitement of the last few weeks, was incessantly delirious; while +Cary, and Brimblecombe, and the men nursed him by turns, as sailors +and wives only can nurse; and listened with awe to his piteous +self-reproaches and entreaties to Heaven to remove that woe, which, +as he shrieked again and again, was a just judgment on him for his +wilfulness and ferocity. The surgeon talked, of course, learnedly about +melancholic humors, and his liver's being “adust by the over-pungency +of the animal spirits,” and then fell back on the universal panacea of +blood-letting, which he effected with fear and trembling during a short +interval of prostration; encouraged by which he attempted to administer +a large bolus of aloes, was knocked down for his pains, and then thought +it better to leave Nature to her own work. In the meanwhile, Cary had +sent off one of the island skiffs to Clovelly, with letters to his +father, and to Mrs. Leigh, entreating the latter to come off to the +island: but the heavy westerly winds made that as impossible as it was +to move Amyas on board, and the men had to do their best, and did it +well enough. + +On the fourth day his raving ceased: but he was still too weak to be +moved. Toward noon, however, he called for food, ate a little, and +seemed revived. + +“Will,” he said, after awhile, “this room is as stifling as it is dark. +I feel as if I should be a sound man once more if I could but get one +snuff of the sea-breeze.” + +The surgeon shook his head at the notion of moving him: but Amyas was +peremptory. + +“I am captain still, Tom Surgeon, and will sail for the Indies, if I +choose. Will Cary, Jack Brimblecombe, will you obey a blind general?” + +“What you will in reason,” said they both at once. + +“Then lead me out, my masters, and over the down to the south end. +To the point at the south end I must go; there is no other place will +suit.” + +And he rose firmly to his feet, and held out his hands for theirs. + +“Let him have his humor,” whispered Cary. “It may be the working off of +his madness.” + +“This sudden strength is a note of fresh fever, Mr. Lieutenant,” + said the surgeon, “and the rules of the art prescribe rather a fresh +blood-letting.” + +Amyas overheard the last word, and broke out: + +“Thou pig-sticking Philistine, wilt thou make sport with blind Samson? +Come near me to let blood from my arm, and see if I do not let blood +from thy coxcomb. Catch him, Will, and bring him me here!” + +The surgeon vanished as the blind giant made a step forward; and they +set forth, Amyas walking slowly, but firmly, between his two friends. + +“Whither?” asked Cary. + +“To the south end. The crag above the Devil's-limekiln. No other place +will suit.” + +Jack gave a murmur, and half-stopped, as a frightful suspicion crossed +him. + +“That is a dangerous place!” + +“What of that?” said Amyas, who caught his meaning in his tone. “Dost +think I am going to leap over cliff? I have not heart enough for that. +On, lads, and set me safe among the rocks.” + +So slowly, and painfully, they went on, while Amyas murmured to himself: + +“No, no other place will suit; I can see all thence.” + +So on they went to the point, where the cyclopean wall of granite cliff +which forms the western side of Lundy, ends sheer in a precipice of some +three hundred feet, topped by a pile of snow-white rock, bespangled with +golden lichens. As they approached, a raven, who sat upon the topmost +stone, black against the bright blue sky, flapped lazily away, and sank +down the abysses of the cliff, as if he scented the corpses underneath +the surge. Below them from the Gull-rock rose a thousand birds, and +filled the air with sound; the choughs cackled, the hacklets wailed, +the great blackbacks laughed querulous defiance at the intruders, and a +single falcon, with an angry bark, dashed out from beneath their feet, +and hung poised high aloft, watching the sea-fowl which swung slowly +round and round below. + +It was a glorious sight upon a glorious day. To the northward the glens +rushed down toward the cliff, crowned with gray crags, and carpeted with +purple heather and green fern; and from their feet stretched away to +the westward the sapphire rollers of the vast Atlantic, crowned with a +thousand crests of flying foam. On their left hand, some ten miles to +the south, stood out against the sky the purple wall of Hartland cliffs, +sinking lower and lower as they trended away to the southward along the +lonely ironbound shores of Cornwall, until they faded, dim and blue, +into the blue horizon forty miles away. + +The sky was flecked with clouds, which rushed toward them fast upon the +roaring south-west wind; and the warm ocean-breeze swept up the cliffs, +and whistled through the heather-bells, and howled in cranny and in +crag, + + “Till the pillars and clefts of the granite + Rang like a God-swept lyre;” + +while Amyas, a proud smile upon his lips, stood breasting that genial +stream of airy wine with swelling nostrils and fast-heaving chest, +and seemed to drink in life from every gust. All three were silent for +awhile; and Jack and Cary, gazing downward with delight upon the glory +and the grandeur of the sight, forgot for awhile that their companion +saw it not. Yet when they started sadly, and looked into his face, did +he not see it? So wide and eager were his eyes, so bright and calm his +face, that they fancied for an instant that he was once more even as +they. + +A deep sigh undeceived them. “I know it is all here--the dear old sea, +where I would live and die. And my eyes feel for it; feel for it--and +cannot find it; never, never will find it again forever! God's will be +done!” + +“Do you say that?” asked Brimblecombe, eagerly. + +“Why should I not? Why have I been raving in hell-fire for I know not +how many days, but to find out that, John Brimblecombe, thou better man +than I?” + +“Not that last: but Amen! Amen! and the Lord has indeed had mercy upon +thee!” said Jack, through his honest tears. + +“Amen!” said Amyas. “Now set me where I can rest among the rocks +without fear of falling--for life is sweet still, even without eyes, +friends--and leave me to myself awhile.” + +It was no easy matter to find a safe place; for from the foot of the +crag the heathery turf slopes down all but upright, on one side to a +cliff which overhangs a shoreless cove of deep dark sea, and on the +other to an abyss even more hideous, where the solid rock has sunk away, +and opened inland in the hillside a smooth-walled pit, some sixty feet +square and some hundred and fifty in depth, aptly known then as now, +as the Devil's-limekiln; the mouth of which, as old wives say, was once +closed by the Shutter-rock itself, till the fiend in malice hurled it +into the sea, to be a pest to mariners. A narrow and untrodden cavern at +the bottom connects it with the outer sea; they could even then hear the +mysterious thunder and gurgle of the surge in the subterranean adit, +as it rolled huge boulders to and fro in darkness, and forced before it +gusts of pent-up air. It was a spot to curdle weak blood, and to make +weak heads reel: but all the fitter on that account for Amyas and his +fancy. + +“You can sit here as in an arm-chair,” said Cary, helping him down to +one of those square natural seats so common in the granite tors. + +“Good; now turn my face to the Shutter. Be sure and exact. So. Do I face +it full?” + +“Full,” said Cary. + +“Then I need no eyes wherewith to see what is before me,” said he, with +a sad smile. “I know every stone and every headland, and every wave too, +I may say, far beyond aught that eye can reach. Now go, and leave me +alone with God and with the dead!” + +They retired a little space and watched him. He never stirred for many +minutes; then leaned his elbows on his knees, and his head upon his +hands, and so was still again. He remained so long thus, that the pair +became anxious, and went towards him. He was asleep, and breathing quick +and heavily. + +“He will take a fever,” said Brimblecombe, “if he sleeps much longer +with his head down in the sunshine.” + +“We must wake him gently if we wake him at all.” And Cary moved forward +to him. + +As he did so, Amyas lifted his head, and turning it to right and left, +felt round him with his sightless eyes. + +“You have been asleep, Amyas.” + +“Have I? I have not slept back my eyes, then. Take up this great useless +carcase of mine, and lead me home. I shall buy me a dog when I get to +Burrough, I think, and make him tow me in a string, eh? So! Give me your +hand. Now march!” + +His guides heard with surprise this new cheerfulness. + +“Thank God, sir, that your heart is so light already,” said good Jack; +“it makes me feel quite upraised myself, like.” + +“I have reason to be cheerful, Sir John; I have left a heavy load behind +me. I have been wilful, and proud, and a blasphemer, and swollen with +cruelty and pride; and God has brought me low for it, and cut me off +from my evil delight. No more Spaniard-hunting for me now, my masters. +God will send no such fools as I upon His errands.” + +“You do not repent of fighting the Spaniards.” + +“Not I: but of hating even the worst of them. Listen to me, Will and +Jack. If that man wronged me, I wronged him likewise. I have been a +fiend when I thought myself the grandest of men, yea, a very avenging +angel out of heaven. But God has shown me my sin, and we have made up +our quarrel forever.” + +“Made it up?” + +“Made it up, thank God. But I am weary. Set me down awhile, and I will +tell you how it befell.” + +Wondering, they set him down upon the heather, while the bees hummed +round them in the sun; and Amyas felt for a hand of each, and clasped it +in his own hand, and began: + +“When you left me there upon the rock, lads, I looked away and out to +sea, to get one last snuff of the merry sea-breeze, which will never +sail me again. And as I looked, I tell you truth, I could see the water +and the sky; as plain as ever I saw them, till I thought my sight was +come again. But soon I knew it was not so; for I saw more than man could +see; right over the ocean, as I live, and away to the Spanish Main. And +I saw Barbados, and Grenada, and all the isles that we ever sailed by; +and La Guayra in Caracas, and the Silla, and the house beneath it where +she lived. And I saw him walking with her on the barbecue, and he loved +her then. I saw what I saw; and he loved her; and I say he loves her +still. + +“Then I saw the cliffs beneath me, and the Gull-rock, and the Shutter, +and the Ledge; I saw them, William Cary, and the weeds beneath the merry +blue sea. And I saw the grand old galleon, Will; she has righted with +the sweeping of the tide. She lies in fifteen fathoms, at the edge of +the rocks, upon the sand; and her men are all lying around her, asleep +until the judgment-day.” + +Cary and Jack looked at him, and then at each other. His eyes were +clear, and bright, and full of meaning; and yet they knew that he +was blind. His voice was shaping itself into a song. Was he inspired? +Insane? What was it? And they listened with awe-struck faces, as the +giant pointed down into the blue depths far below, and went on. + +“And I saw him sitting in his cabin, like a valiant gentleman of Spain; +and his officers were sitting round him, with their swords upon the +table at the wine. And the prawns and the crayfish and the rockling, +they swam in and out above their heads: but Don Guzman he never heeded, +but sat still, and drank his wine. Then he took a locket from his bosom; +and I heard him speak, Will, and he said: 'Here's the picture of my fair +and true lady; drink to her, senors all.' Then he spoke to me, Will, +and called me, right up through the oar-weed and the sea: 'We have had +a fair quarrel, senor; it is time to be friends once more. My wife and +your brother have forgiven me; so your honor takes no stain.' And I +answered, 'We are friends, Don Guzman; God has judged our quarrel and +not we.' Then he said, 'I sinned, and I am punished.' And I said, 'And, +senor, so am I.' Then he held out his hand to me, Cary; and I stooped to +take it, and awoke.” + +He ceased: and they looked in his face again. It was exhausted, but +clear and gentle, like the face of a new-born babe. Gradually his head +dropped upon his breast again; he was either swooning or sleeping, and +they had much ado to get him home. There he lay for eight-and-forty +hours, in a quiet doze; then arose suddenly, called for food, ate +heartily, and seemed, saving his eyesight, as whole and sound as ever. +The surgeon bade them get him home to Northam as soon as possible, +and he was willing enough to go. So the next day the Vengeance sailed, +leaving behind a dozen men to seize and keep in the queen's name any +goods which should be washed up from the wreck. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HOW AMYAS LET THE APPLE FALL + + “Would you hear a Spanish lady, + How she woo'd an Englishman? + Garments gay and rich as may be, + Deck'd with jewels had she on.” + + Elizabethan Ballad. + +It was the first of October. The morning was bright and still; the skies +were dappled modestly from east to west with soft gray autumn cloud, as +if all heaven and earth were resting after those fearful summer months +of battle and of storm. Silently, as if ashamed and sad, the Vengeance +slid over the bar, and passed the sleeping sand-hills and dropped her +anchor off Appledore, with her flag floating half-mast high; for the +corpse of Salvation Yeo was on board. + +A boat pulled off from the ship, and away to the western end of the +strand; and Cary and Brimblecombe helped out Amyas Leigh, and led him +slowly up the hill toward his home. + +The crowd clustered round him, with cheers and blessings, and sobs of +pity from kind-hearted women; for all in Appledore and Bideford knew +well by this time what had befallen him. + +“Spare me, my good friends,” said Amyas, “I have landed here that I +might go quietly home, without passing through the town, and being made +a gazing-stock. Think not of me, good folks, nor talk of me; but come +behind me decently, as Christian men, and follow to the grave the body +of a better man than I.” + +And, as he spoke, another boat came off, and in it, covered with the +flag of England, the body of Salvation Yeo. + +The people took Amyas at his word; and a man was sent on to Burrough, to +tell Mrs. Leigh that her son was coming. When the coffin was landed +and lifted, Amyas and his friends took their places behind it as chief +mourners, and the crew followed in order, while the crowd fell in behind +them, and gathered every moment; till ere they were halfway to Northam +town, the funeral train might number full five hundred souls. + +They had sent over by a fishing-skiff the day before to bid the sexton +dig the grave; and when they came into the churchyard, the parson stood +ready waiting at the gate. + +Mrs. Leigh stayed quietly at home; for she had no heart to face the +crowd; and though her heart yearned for her son, yet she was well +content (when was she not content?) that he should do honor to his +ancient and faithful servant; so she sat down in the bay-window, with +Ayacanora by her side; and when the tolling of the bell ceased, she +opened her Prayer-book, and began to read the Burial-service. + +“Ayacanora,” she said, “they are burying old Master Yeo, who loved you, +and sought you over the wide, wide world, and saved you from the teeth +of the crocodile. Are you not sorry for him, child, that you look so gay +to-day?” + +Ayacanora blushed, and hung down her head; she was thinking of nothing, +poor child, but Amyas. + +The Burial-service was done; the blessing said; the parson drew back: +but the people lingered and crowded round to look at the coffin, while +Amyas stood still at the head of the grave. It had been dug by his +command, at the west end of the church, near by the foot of the tall +gray windswept tower, which watches for a beacon far and wide over land +and sea. Perhaps the old man might like to look at the sea, and see +the ships come out and in across the bar, and hear the wind, on winter +nights, roar through the belfry far above his head. Why not? It was but +a fancy: and yet Amyas felt that he too should like to be buried in such +a place; so Yeo might like it also. + +Still the crowd lingered; and looked first at the grave and then at +the blind giant who stood over it, as if they felt, by instinct, that +something more ought to come. And something more did come. Amyas drew +himself up to his full height, and waved his hand majestically, as one +about to speak; while the eyes of all men were fastened on him. + +Twice he essayed to begin; and twice the words were choked upon his +lips; and then,-- + +“Good people all, and seamen, among whom I was bred, and to whom I come +home blind this day, to dwell with you till death--Here lieth the flower +and pattern of all bold mariners; the truest of friends, and the most +terrible of foes; unchangeable of purpose, crafty of council, and swift +of execution; in triumph most sober, in failure (as God knows I have +found full many a day) of endurance beyond mortal man. Who first of all +Britons helped to humble the pride of the Spaniard at Rio de la Hacha +and Nombre, and first of all sailed upon those South Seas, which shall +be hereafter, by God's grace, as free to English keels as is the bay +outside. Who having afterwards been purged from his youthful sins by +strange afflictions and torments unspeakable, suffered at the hands of +the Popish enemy, learned therefrom, my masters, to fear God, and to +fear naught else; and having acquitted himself worthily in his place and +calling as a righteous scourge of the Spaniard, and a faithful soldier +of the Lord Jesus Christ, is now exalted to his reward, as Elijah was of +old, in a chariot of fire unto heaven: letting fall, I trust and pray, +upon you who are left behind the mantle of his valor and his godliness, +that so these shores may never be without brave and pious mariners, who +will count their lives as worthless in the cause of their Country, their +Bible, and their Queen. Amen.” + +And feeling for his companions' hands he walked slowly from the +churchyard, and across the village street, and up the lane to Burrough +gates; while the crowd made way for him in solemn silence, as for an +awful being, shut up alone with all his strength, valor, and fame, in +the dark prison-house of his mysterious doom. + +He seemed to know perfectly when they had reached the gates, opened the +lock with his own hands, and went boldly forward along the gravel path, +while Cary and Brimblecombe followed him trembling; for they expected +some violent burst of emotion, either from him or his mother, and the +two good fellows' tender hearts were fluttering like a girl's. Up to +the door he went, as if he had seen it; felt for the entrance, stood +therein, and called quietly, “Mother!” + +In a moment his mother was on his bosom. + +Neither spoke for awhile. She sobbing inwardly, with tearless eyes, he +standing firm and cheerful, with his great arms clasped around her. + +“Mother!” he said at last, “I am come home, you see, because I needs +must come. Will you take me in, and look after this useless carcase? I +shall not be so very troublesome, mother,--shall I?” and he looked down, +and smiled upon her, and kissed her brow. + +She answered not a word, but passed her arm gently round his waist, and +led him in. + +“Take care of your head, dear child, the doors are low.” And they went +in together. + +“Will! Jack!” called Amyas, turning round: but the two good fellows had +walked briskly off. + +“I'm glad we are away,” said Cary; “I should have made a baby of myself +in another minute, watching that angel of a woman. How her face worked +and how she kept it in!” + +“Ah, well!” said Jack, “there goes a brave servant of the queen's cut +off before his work was a quarter done. Heigho! I must home now, and see +my old father, and then--” + +“And then home with me,” said Cary. “You and I never part again! We have +pulled in the same boat too long, Jack; and you must not go spending +your prize-money in riotous living. I must see after you, old Jack +ashore, or we shall have you treating half the town in taverns for a +week to come.” + +“Oh, Mr. Cary!” said Jack, scandalized. + +“Come home with me, and we'll poison the parson, and my father shall +give you the rectory.” + +“Oh, Mr. Cary!” said Jack. + +So the two went off to Clovelly together that very day. + +And Amyas was sitting all alone. His mother had gone out for a few +minutes to speak to the seamen who had brought up Amyas's luggage, and +set them down to eat and drink; and Amyas sat in the old bay-window, +where he had sat when he was a little tiny boy, and read “King Arthur,” + and “Fox's Martyrs,” and “The Cruelties of the Spaniards.” He put out +his hand and felt for them; there they lay side by side, just as they +had lain twenty years before. The window was open; and a cool air +brought in as of old the scents of the four-season roses, and rosemary, +and autumn gilliflowers. And there was a dish of apples on the table: he +knew it by their smell; the very same old apples which he used to gather +when he was a boy. He put out his hand, and took them, and felt them +over, and played with them, just as if the twenty years had never been: +and as he fingered them, the whole of his past life rose up before him, +as in that strange dream which is said to flash across the imagination +of a drowning man; and he saw all the places which he had ever seen, and +heard all the words which had ever been spoken to him--till he came to +that fairy island on the Meta; and he heard the roar of the cataract +once more, and saw the green tops of the palm-trees sleeping in the +sunlight far above the spray, and stept amid the smooth palm-trunks +across the flower-fringed boulders, and leaped down to the gravel beach +beside the pool: and then again rose from the fern-grown rocks the +beautiful vision of Ayacanora--Where was she? He had not thought of her +till now. How he had wronged her! Let be; he had been punished, and the +account was squared. Perhaps she did not care for him any longer. Who +would care for a great blind ox like him, who must be fed and tended +like a baby for the rest of his lazy life? Tut! How long his mother +was away! And he began playing again with his apples, and thought about +nothing but them, and his climbs with Frank in the orchard years ago. + +At last one of them slipt through his fingers, and fell on the floor. He +stooped and felt for it: but he could not find it. Vexatious! He turned +hastily to search in another direction, and struck his head sharply +against the table. + +Was it the pain, or the little disappointment? or was it the sense of +his blindness brought home to him in that ludicrous commonplace way, +and for that very reason all the more humiliating? or was it the sudden +revulsion of overstrained nerves, produced by that slight shock? Or had +he become indeed a child once more? I know not; but so it was, that he +stamped on the floor with pettishness, and then checking himself, burst +into a violent flood of tears. + +A quick rustle passed him; the apple was replaced in his hand, and +Ayacanora's voice sobbed out: + +“There! there it is! Do not weep! Oh, do not weep! I cannot bear it! +I will get you all you want! Only let me fetch and carry for you, tend +you, feed you, lead you, like your slave, your dog! Say that I may be +your slave!” and falling on her knees at his feet, she seized both his +hands, and covered them with kisses. + +“Yes!” she cried, “I will be your slave! I must be! You cannot help it! +You cannot escape from me now! You cannot go to sea! You cannot turn +your back upon wretched me. I have you safe now! Safe!” and she clutched +his hands triumphantly. “Ah! and what a wretch I am, to rejoice in that! +to taunt him with his blindness! Oh, forgive me! I am but a poor wild +girl--a wild Indian savage, you know: but--but--” and she burst into +tears. + +A great spasm shook the body and soul of Amyas Leigh; he sat quite +silent for a minute, and then said solemnly: + +“And is this still possible? Then God have mercy upon me a sinner!” + +Ayacanora looked up in his face inquiringly: but before she could speak +again, he had bent down, and lifting her as the lion lifts the lamb, +pressed her to his bosom, and covered her face with kisses. + +The door opened. There was the rustle of a gown; Ayacanora sprang from +him with a little cry, and stood, half-trembling, half-defiant, as if to +say, “He is mine now; no one dare part him from me!” + +“Who is it?” asked Amyas. + +“Your mother.” + +“You see that I am bringing forth fruits meet for repentance, mother,” + said he, with a smile. + +He heard her approach. Then a kiss and a sob passed between the women; +and he felt Ayacanora sink once more upon his bosom. + +“Amyas, my son,” said the silver voice of Mrs. Leigh, low, dreamy, like +the far-off chimes of angels' bells from out the highest heaven, “fear +not to take her to your heart again; for it is your mother who has laid +her there.” + +“It is true, after all,” said Amyas to himself. “What God has joined +together, man cannot put asunder.” + + * * * * * + +From that hour Ayacanora's power of song returned to her; and day by +day, year after year, her voice rose up within that happy home, and +soared, as on a skylark's wings, into the highest heaven, bearing with +it the peaceful thoughts of the blind giant back to the Paradises of the +West, in the wake of the heroes who from that time forth sailed out to +colonize another and a vaster England, to the heaven-prospered cry of +Westward-Ho! + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Westward Ho!, by Charles Kingsley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WESTWARD HO! *** + +***** This file should be named 1860-0.txt or 1860-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/6/1860/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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