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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #52102 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52102)
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-Project Gutenberg's Across the Salt Seas, by John Bloundelle-Burton
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Across the Salt Seas
- A Romance of the War of Succession
-
-Author: John Bloundelle-Burton
-
-Release Date: May 19, 2016 [EBook #52102]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ACROSS THE SALT SEAS ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by
-Google Books (Princeton University)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber's Notes:
- 1. Page scan source: Google Books
- https://books.google.com/books?id=OsUsAAAAYAAJ
- (Princeton University)
- 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
-
-
-
-
-
-Across the Salt Seas.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-ACROSS
-THE SALT SEAS
-
-
-A ROMANCE OF THE
-WAR OF SUCCESSION
-
-
-
-BY
-JOHN BLOUNDELLE-BURTON
-
-AUTHOR OF "IN THE WAY OF ADVERSITY,"
-"THE HISPANIOLA PLATE," "A GENTLEMAN ADVENTURER," ETC.
-
-
-
-
-
-HERBERT S. STONE & CO.
-CHICAGO & NEW YORK
-MDCCCXCVII
-
-
-
-
-
-
-COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY
-HERBERT S. STONE & CO.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Across the Salt Seas.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-
-Dreams he of cutting foreign throats, of breaches, ambuscadoes,
-Spanish blades; of healths five fathoms deep.--Shakespeare.
-
-
-"Phew!" said the captain of _La Mouche Noire_, as he came up to me
-where I paced the deck by the after binacle. "Phew! It is a devil in
-its death agonies. What has the man seen and known? Fore Gad! he makes
-me shudder!"
-
-Then he spat to leeward--because he was a sailor; also, because he was
-a sailor, he squinted into the compass box, then took off his leather
-cap and wiped the warm drops from his forehead with the back of his
-hand.
-
-"Death agonies!" I said. "So! it is coming to that. From what?
-Drinking, old age, or----"
-
-"Both, and more. Yet, when I shipped him at Rotterdam, who
-would have thought it! Old and reverend-looking, eh, Mr. Crespin?
-White haired--silvery. I deemed him some kind of a minister--yet, now,
-hearken to him!"
-
-And as he spoke he went to the hatchway, bent his head and shoulders
-over it, and beckoned me to come and do likewise; which gesture I
-obeyed.
-
-Then I heard the old man's voice coming forth from the cabin where
-they had got him, the door of it being open for sake of air, because,
-in this tossing sea, the ports and scuttles were shut fast--heard him
-screaming, muttering, chuckling and laughing; calling of healths and
-toasts; dying hard!
-
-"The balustrades!" he screamed. "Look to them. See! Three men, their
-hands stretched out, peering down into the hall; fingers touching.
-God!"--he whispered this, yet still we heard--"how can dead men stand
-thus together, gazing over, glancing into dark corners, eyes rolling?
-See how yellow the mustee's eyes are! But still, all dead! Dead! Dead!
-Dead! Yet there they stand, waiting for us to come in from the garden.
-Ha! quick--the passado--one--two--in--out--good! through his midriff.
-Ha! Ha! Ha!" and he laughed hideously, then went on: "The worms will
-have a full meal. Or"--after a pause, and hissing this: "Was he dead
-before? Hast run a dead man through?"
-
-"Like this all day long," the captain muttered in my ear, "from the
-dawn. And now the sun is setting; see how its gleams light up the
-hills inland. God's mercy! I hope he dies ere long. I want not his
-howlings through my ship all night. Mr. Crespin," and he laid his hand
-on my arm, "will you go down to him, to service me? You are a
-gentleman. Maybe can soothe him. He is one, too. Will you?"
-
-I shrugged my shoulders and hitched my sea cloak tighter round me;
-then I said:
-
-"To do you a service--yes. Yet I like not the job. Still, I will go,"
-and I put my hand on the brass rail to descend. Then, as I did so, we
-heard him again--a-singing of a song this time. But what a song! And
-to come from the dying lips of that old, white-haired, reverend-looking
-man! A song about drinkings and carousings, of girls' eyes and lips and
-other charms, which he should have thought no more of for the past two
-score years! and killing of men, and thievings and plunder. Then another
-change, orders bellowed loudly, as though he trod on deck--commands
-given to run out guns--cutlasses to be ready. Shrieks, whooping and
-huzzas!
-
-"He has followed the sea some time in his life," the captain whispered
-as I descended the companion steps. "One can tell that. And I thought
-him a minister!"
-
-I nodded, looking up at him as I went below, then reached the open
-door of the cabin where the man lay.
-
-He was stretched out upon his berth, the bedding all dishevelled and
-tossed beneath him, with, over it, his long white hair, like spun
-flax, streaming. His coat alone of all his garments was off, so that
-one saw the massive gold buttons to his satin waistcoat; could
-observe, too, the richness of his cravat, the fineness of his shirt.
-His breeches, also, were of satin, black like his waistcoat--the
-stuff of the very best; his buckles to them gold; his shoes fastened
-with silver latchets. That he was old other things than his hair
-showed--the white face was drawn and pinched with age, the body lean
-and attenuated, the fingers almost fleshless, the backs of his hands
-naught but sinews and shrivelled skin. And they were strange hands,
-too, for one to gaze upon; white as the driven snow, yet with
-a thickness at the tips of the fingers, and with ill-shapen,
-coarse-looking nails, all seeming to say that, once, in some far off
-time, those hands had done hard, rough work.
-
-By the side of the berth, upon one of the drawers beneath it, pulled
-out to make a seat, there squatted a mulatto--his servant whom he had
-brought on board with him when we took him into the ship in the Maas.
-A mulatto, whose brown, muddy looking eyeballs rolled about in terror,
-as I thought, of his master's coming death, and made me wonder if they
-had given his distempered brain that idea of the "mustee's yellow
-eyes," about which he had been lately shrieking. Yet, somehow, I
-guessed that 'twas not so.
-
-"How is 't with him now?" I asked the blackamoor, seeing that his
-master lay quiet for the time being; "is this like to be the end?"
-
-"Maybe, maybe not," the creature said in reply. "I have seen him as
-far gone before--yet he is alive."
-
-"How old is he?"
-
-"I know not. He says he has seventy years."
-
-"I should say more," I answered. Then I asked: "Who is he?"
-
-"The captain has his name."
-
-"That tells nothing. When he is dead he will be committed to the sea
-unless we reach Cadiz first. And he has goods," casting my eye on two
-chests, one above the other, standing by the cabin bulkhead. "They
-will have to be consigned somewhere. Where is he going?"
-
-"To Cadiz."
-
-"Ha! Well, so am I. He is English?"
-
-"Yes--he is English."
-
-'Twas evident to me that this black creature meant to tell nothing of
-his master's affairs--for which there was no need to blame him--and I
-desisted from my enquiries. For, in truth, this old man's affairs were
-not my concern. If he died he would be tossed into the sea, and that
-would be the end of him. And if he did not die--why still 'twas no
-affair of mine. I was but a passenger, as he was.
-
-Therefore, I turned me on my heel to quit the cabin, when, to my
-astonishment, nay, almost my awestruck wonderment, I heard the old man
-speaking behind me as calmly as though there were no delirium in his
-brain nor any fever whatever. Perhaps, after all, I thought, 'twas but
-the French brandy and the Geneva he had been drinking freely of since
-we took him on board, and which he brought with him in case bottles,
-that had given him his delirium, and that the effect was gone now with
-his last shriekings and ravings.
-
-But that which caused most my wonderment was that he was speaking in
-the French--which I had very well myself.
-
-"What brings you here, Grandmont?" he asked, his eyes, of a cold grey,
-fixed on me.
-
-"So," thinks I, "you are not out of your fever yet, to call me by a
-name I never heard of." But aloud, I answered:
-
-"I have taken passage the same as you yourself. And we travel the same
-road--toward Cadiz."
-
-Meanwhile the negro was a-hushing of him--or trying to--saying:
-"Master, master, you wander. Grandmont is not here. This gentleman is
-not he"; and angered me, too, even as he said it, by a scornful kind
-of laugh he gave, as though to signify: "Not anything like him,
-indeed."
-
-But the old man took no heed of him--pushing him aside with a strength
-in the white coarse hand which you would not have looked to see in one
-so spent--and leaned a little over the side of the berth, and went on:
-
-"Have you heard of it, yet, Grandmont?"
-
-Not knowing what to do, nor what answer to make, I shook my
-head--whereon he continued: "Nineteen years of age now, if a day. Four
-years old then--two hundred crowns' worth of good wood burnt,--all
-burnt--a mort o' money! But we have enough left and to serve, 'tis
-true. A plenty o' money--though 'tis soaked in blood. Nineteen years
-old, and like to be a devil--like yourself, Grandmont!"
-
-"Grandmont is dead," the negro muttered. "Drownded dead, master. You
-know."
-
-This set the old man off on another tack, doubtless the words
-"drownded dead" recalling something to him; and once more he began
-his chantings--going back to the English--which were awful to hear,
-and brought to my mind the idea of a corpse a-singing:
-
- "Fishes' teeth have eat his eyes;
- His limbs by fishes torn."
-
-Then broke off and said: "Where am I? Give me to drink."
-
-This the negro did, taking from out the drawer he sat upon a bottle of
-Hungary water, and pouring a draught into a glass, which, when the old
-man had tasted, set him off shrieking curses.
-
-"Brandy!" he cried, "Brandy! French brandy, not this filth. Brandy,
-dog!" and as he spoke he raised his hand and clutched at the other's
-wool, "If I had you in Martinique----" then, exhausted, fell back on
-his pillows and said no more, forgetting all about the desired drink.
-
-Now, that night, when I sat with the captain after supper, he being a
-man who had roamed the world far and wide, and had not always been, as
-he was now, a carrier of goods only, with sometimes a passenger or
-two, from London to the ports of France, Spain and Portugal, we talked
-upon that hoary-headed old sinner lying below in the after-starboard
-cabin; I telling him all that had passed in my hearing.
-
-And he, smoking his great pipe, listened attentively, nodding his head
-every now and again, and muttering much to himself; then said:
-
-"Spoke about two hundred crowns' worth of good wood being burnt, eh?
-That would be at Campeachy. Humph! So! So! We have heard about that.
-Told the black, too, that he wished he had him in Martinique, did he?
-Also knew Grandmont. Ha! 'tis very plain." Then he rose and went to
-his desk, lifted up the sloping lid and took out a book and read from
-it--I observing very well that it was his log.
-
-"See," he said, pushing it over to me, "that's what he calls himself
-now. Yet 'tis no more his name than 'tis mine--or yours."
-
-Glancing my eye down the column, I came to my own name--after a list
-of things by way of cargo which he had on board, such as a hundred and
-seventy barrels of potash, sixty bales of hemp, a hundred bales of
-Russia leather, twenty barrels of salted meat, twenty-eight barrels of
-whale oil and many other things. Came to my own name, Mervyn Crespin,
-officer, passenger to Cadiz. Then to the old man's:
-
-"John Carstairs, gentleman, with servant, passenger to Cadiz."
-
-"No more his name than 'tis mine--or yours," the captain repeated.
-
-"What then?" I asked.
-
-"It might be--anything," and again he mused. "Martinique," he went on,
-"Campeachy. A friend of Grandmont's. Let me reflect. It might be John
-Cuddiford. He was a friend of Grandmont's. It might be Alderly. But
-no, he was killed, I think, by Captain Nicholas Crafez of Brentford.
-Dampier, now--nay, this one is too old; also William Dampier sailed
-from the Downs three years ago. I do believe 'tis Cuddiford."
-
-"And who then is Grandmont, Captain? And this Cuddiford--or
-Carstairs?"
-
-"Ho!" said he, "'tis all a history, and had you been sailor, or worn
-that sword by your side for King William as you wear it now for Queen
-Anne, you would have known Grandmont's name. Of a surety you would
-have done so, had you been sailor."
-
-"Who are they, then?"
-
-"Well now, see. Grandmont was--for he is dead, drowned coming back
-from the Indies in '96--that's six years agone--with a hundred and
-eighty men, all devils like himself."
-
-As he said this I started, for his words were much the same as those
-which the old man had used an hour or so before when he had spoken of
-something--a child, as I guessed--that had been four years old, and
-was now nineteen and "like to be a devil" like himself--Grandmont. It
-seemed certain, therefore, that this man, Grandmont, was a friend in
-life, and that now there was roaming about somewhere a son who had all
-the instincts of its father, and who was known to Carstairs, or
-Cuddiford.
-
-This made the story of interest to me, and caused me to listen
-earnestly to the captain's words.
-
-"Coming back from the Indies, and not so very long, either, after the
-French king had made him a lieutenant of his navy--perhaps because he
-was a villain. He does that now and again. 'Tis his way. Look at Bart,
-to wit. There's a sweet vagabond for you. Has plagued us honest
-merchants and carriers more than all Tourville's navy. Yet, now, he is
-an officer, too."
-
-"But Grandmont, Captain! Grandmont."
-
-"Ah! Grandmont. Well, he was a
-filibuster--privateer--buccaneer--pirate--what you will! Burnt up all
-their woods at Campeachy--the old man spake true--because the
-commandant wouldn't pay the ransom he and his crew demanded; also
-because the commandant said that when he had slaughtered them all, if
-he did so, he would never find out where their buried wealth was. Then
-he took a Pink one day with four hundred thousand francs' worth of
-goods and money on board, and slew every soul in the ship. Tied dead
-and living together, back to back, and flung them into the sea. Oh! He
-was a devil," he concluded. "A wicked villain! My word! If only some
-of our ships of war could have caught him."
-
-"Yet he is dead?"
-
-"Dead enough, the Lord be praised."
-
-"And if this is a friend of his--this Cuddiford, or Carstairs--he must
-needs be a villain, too."
-
-"Needs be! Nay, is, for a surety. And, Mr. Crespin," he said, speaking
-slowly, "you have heard his shrieks and singings--could you doubt what
-he has been?"
-
-"Doubt? No," I answered. "Who could? Yet, I wonder who were the dead
-men looking down the stairs, as they came in from the garden."
-
-"Who? Only a few of their victims. If he and Grandmont worked together
-they could not count 'em. Well, one is dead; good luck when the other
-goes too. And, when he does, what a meeting they will have there!" and
-he pointed downward.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II.
-
-SECRET SERVICE.
-
-
-It seemed not, however, as though this meeting were very likely to
-take place yet, since by the time we were off Cape St. Vincent--which
-was at early dawn of the second morning following the old man's
-delirium--that person seemed to have become very much restored. 'Tis
-true he was still very weak, and kept his berth; but otherwise seemed
-well enough. Also all his fever and wanderings were gone, and as he
-now lay in his bunk reading of many papers which the negro handed to
-him from the open uppermost chest, he might, indeed, have passed for
-that same reverend minister which the captain had, at the beginning,
-imagined him to be.
-
-Both of us--the captain because he was the captain, and I because I
-was the only other passenger--had been in and out to see him now and
-again and to ask him how he did. Yet, I fear, 'twas not charity nor
-pity that induced either of us to these Christian tasks. For the
-skipper was prompted by, I think, but one desire, namely, to get the
-man ashore alive out of his ship, and, thereby, to have done with him.
-He liked not pirates, he said, "neither when met on the high seas, nor
-when retired from business"; while as for myself, well! the man
-fascinated me. He seemed to be, indeed, so scheming an old villain,
-and to have such a strange past behind him, that I could not help but
-be attracted.
-
-Now in these visits which I had paid him at intervals, he had told me
-that he was on his way to Cadiz, where he had much business to attend
-to; sometimes, he said, in purchasing goods that the galleons brought
-in from the Indies, sometimes in sending out other goods, and so
-forth. Also he said--which was true enough, as I knew very well--the
-galleons were now due; it was for this reason he was on his way to the
-south of Spain.
-
-"So," said the captain, when I repeated this, "the devil can speak
-truth sure enough when he needs. To wit, it is the truth that the
-galleons are on their way home. What else has he said to you, Mr.
-Crespin?"
-
-"He has asked me what my business may be."
-
-"And you have told him?"
-
-"Nay. I tell no one that," I replied, "It is of some consequence, and
-I talk not of it."
-
-Yet here, and with a view to making clear this narrative which I am
-setting down, 'tis necessary that I should state who and what I am,
-and also the reason why I, Mervyn Crespin, am on my road to Cadiz on
-board a coasting vessel, _La Mouche Noire_--once a French ship of
-merchandise, now an English one. She was taken from that nation by
-some of our own vessels of war, sold by public auction, and bought by
-her present captain, who now is using her in his trade between England
-and Holland, and Holland and Spain--a risky trade, too, seeing that
-war has broken out again, that England and Austria are fighting the
-French and Spanish, and that the sea swarms with privateers; yet,
-because of the risk, a profitable trade, too, for those who can make
-their journeys uncaught by the enemy.
-
-However, to myself.
-
-I am, let me say, therefore, an officer of the Cuirassiers, or Fourth
-Horse, which, a short time before the late King William's death, has
-been serving in the Netherlands under the partial command of Ginkell,
-Earl of Athlone. The rank I hold is that of lieutenant--aspiring
-naturally to far greater things--and already I have had the honor of
-taking part in several sieges, amongst others Kaiserswerth, with which
-the war commenced, as well as in many skirmishes. Now, 'twas at this
-place, where my Lord the Earl of Athlone commanded, that I had the
-extreme good fortune, as I shall ever deem it, of being wounded, and
-thereby brought under his Lordship's notice. As for the wound, 'twas
-nothing, one of M. Bouffler's lancers having run me through the fleshy
-part of my arm, and it was soon healed; but the earl happened to see
-the occurrence, as also the manner in which I cut the man down a
-second later, and from that moment he took notice of me--sent for me
-to his quarters when the siege was over, spoke with commendation of my
-riding and my sword play, and asked me of my family, he being one who,
-although a Dutchman who came only into England with his late master,
-knew much of our gentry and noble homes.
-
-"Of the Crespins of Kent, eh?" he said. "The Crespins--a fair, good
-family. I knew Sir Nicholas, who fell at the Boyne. What was he to
-you?"
-
-"My uncle, sir. The late king gave me my guidon in the Cuirassiers
-because of his service."
-
-"Good! He could do no less. Your uncle was a solid man--trustworthy.
-If he said he would do a thing, he did it--or died. 'Twas thus in
-Ireland. You remember?"
-
-"I remember, sir. He said he would take prisoner Tyrconnel with his
-own hands, and would have done it had not a bullet found his brain."
-
-"I do believe he would. Are you as trustworthy as he?"
-
-"Try me," and I looked him straight in the face.
-
-"Maybe I will. A little later," and even as he spoke fell a-musing,
-while he drank some schnapps, which was his native drink, and on
-which, they say, these Hollanders are weaned--from a little glass.
-Then soon spake again:
-
-"What languages have you? Any besides your own?"
-
-"I have the French. Also some Spanish. My grandmother was of Spanish
-descent, and dwelt with us in Kent. She taught me."
-
-"Humph!" And again he mused, then again went on, though now--doubtless
-to see if my French was any good, and to try me--he spoke in that
-tongue.
-
-"Could you pass for a Frenchman, think you, amongst those who are not
-French, say in Spain itself?"
-
-"Yes, amongst those who are not French, I am sure I could. Even
-amongst those who are French, if I gave out that I was, say, a
-Dutchman speaking with an accent," and I laughed, for I could not help
-it. The earl had a bottle nose and eyes like a lobster's, and made a
-queer grimace when I said this boldly. Then he, too, laughed.
-
-"So I've an accent, eh, when I speak French? You mean that?"
-
-"I mean, sir, that however well one speaks a language not their own,
-there is some accent that betrays them to those whose native tongue
-they are speaking. A Dutchman, a Swiss, most Englishmen and many
-Germans can all speak French, and 'twould pass outside France for
-French. But a native of Touraine, or a Parisian, or any subject of
-King Louis could not be deceived."
-
-"True. Yet you or I could pass, say in Spain, for Frenchmen."
-
-"I am sure."
-
-"Humph! Well, we will see. And, perhaps, I will, as you say,
-try you. Only if I do, 'twill be a risky service for you. A
-lieutenant-colonelcy or a gibbet. A regiment or a bullet. How would
-you like that?"
-
-"I risk the bullet every moment that the Cuirassiers are in action,
-and there is no lieutenant-colonelcy in the other scale if I escape. I
-prefer the 'risky service,' when there is one. As for the gibbet;
-well, one death is the same as another, pretty much, and the gibbet
-will do as well as any other, so long as 'tis not at Tyburn--which
-would be discreditable."
-
-"You are a man of metal!" the Dutchman exclaimed, "and I like you,
-although you don't approve of my accent. You will do. I want a man of
-action, not a courtier----"
-
-"I meant no rudeness," I interposed.
-
-"Nor offered any. Tush! man, we Dutch are not courtiers, either. But
-we are staunch. And I will give you a chance of being so. Come here
-again to-morrow night. You shall have a throw for that colonelcy--or
-that gibbet."
-
-"My Lord, I am most grateful to you."
-
-"Good day. Come to-morrow night. Now I must sleep." And he began to
-divest himself of his wig and clothes, upon which I bowed and
-withdrew.
-
-Be sure I was there the next night at the same time, exchanging my
-guard with Bertram Saxby, who, alas! was killed shortly afterward at
-Ruremonde. The day I had passed in sleeping much, for I had a
-suspicion that it was like enough Ginkell would send me on the service
-he had spoken of that very night; might, indeed, order me to take
-horse within the next hour, and I was desirous of starting fresh--of
-beginning well. He was a rough creature, this Dutch general--or
-English, rather, now!--and would be as apt as not to give me my
-instructions as I entered the room, and bid me be miles away ere
-midnight struck. Therefore I went prepared. Also my horse was ready in
-its stall.
-
-He was not alone when I did enter his quarters. Instead, he was seated
-at a table covered with papers and charts, on the other side of which
-there sat another gentleman, a man of about fifty, of strikingly
-handsome features; a man who, in his day, I guessed, must have played
-havoc with women's hearts--might, indeed, I should think, have done so
-now had he been inclined that way. Those soft, rounded features, and
-those eyes, themselves soft and liquid--I saw them clearly when he
-lifted them to scan my face!--would, I guessed, make him irresistible
-to the fair sex.
-
-He spoke first after I had saluted the Earl of Athlone--and I observed
-that, intuitively, he also returned my salute by a bend of his head,
-so that I felt sure he was used to receive such courtesies wherever he
-might be and in whatever company--then he said to the Dutchman, in a
-voice that, though somewhat high, was as musical as a chime of bells.
-
-"This is the gentleman, Ginkell?"
-
-"This is the gentleman. A lieutenant of the Fourth Horse."
-
-"Sir," said the other, "be seated," and he pointed with a beautifully
-white hand to a chair by the table. "I desire some little conversation
-with you. I am the Earl of Marlborough." And as he mentioned his name
-he put out that white hand again and offered it to me, I taking it
-with all imaginable respect. He was at this time the most conspicuous
-subject of any sovereign in the world; his name was known from one end
-of Europe to the other. Also it was the most feared, although he had
-not yet put the crowning point to his glory nor risen to the highest
-rank for which he was destined. But he was very near his zenith
-now--his greatness almost at its height--and, I have often thought
-since, there was something within him at this time which told him it
-was close at hand. For he had an imperturbable calmness, an unfailing
-quiet graciousness, as I witnessed afterward on many occasions, which
-alone could be possessed by one who felt sure of himself. In every
-word he spoke, in his every action, he proclaimed that he was certain
-of, and master of, his destiny!
-
-"My Lord Athlone tells me," he continued, when I was seated, the soft
-voice flowing musically, "that you have the fitting aspirations of a
-soldier--desire a regiment, and are willing to earn one."
-
-I bowed and muttered that to succeed in my career was my one desire,
-and that if I could win success I would spare no effort. Then he went
-on:
-
-"You speak French. That is good. Also Spanish. That, too, is good.
-Likewise, I hear, can disguise your identity as an Englishman if
-necessary. That is well, also. Mr. ----" and he took up a piece of
-paper lying before him, on which I supposed my name was written, "Mr.
-Crespin, I--we--are going to employ you on secret service. Are you
-willing to undertake it?"
-
-"I am willing, my Lord, to do anything that may advance my career.
-Anything that may become a soldier."
-
-"That is as it should be. The light in which to regard
-matters--anything that may become a soldier. That before all. Well, to
-be short, we are going to send you to Cadiz."
-
-"To Cadiz, my Lord!" I said, unable to repress some slight feeling of
-astonishment.
-
-"Yes. To Cadiz, where you will not find another English soldier. Still
-that will, perhaps, not matter very much, since we do not desire you
-when there to appear as a soldier yourself. You are granted leave from
-your regiment indefinitely while on this mission, and, at the first at
-least, you will be a private gentleman. Also, when at Cadiz, you will
-please to be anything but an _English_ gentleman."
-
-"Or a Dutch one," put in the other earl with a guttural laugh.
-"Therefore, assume not the Dutch accent."
-
-Evidently my Lord Marlborough did not know of the joke underlying this
-remark, since he went on:
-
-"As a Frenchman you will have the best chance. Or, perhaps, as a Swiss
-merchant. But that we leave to you. What you have to do is to get to
-Cadiz, and, when there, to pass as some one, neither English nor
-Dutch, who is engaged in ordinary mercantile pursuits. Then when the
-fleet comes in----"
-
-"The fleet, my Lord!"
-
-"Yes. The English fleet. I should tell you--I must make myself clear.
-A large fleet under Admirals Rooke and Hopson, as well as some Dutch
-admirals, are about to besiege Cadiz. They will shortly sail from
-Portsmouth, as we have advices, and it is almost a certainty that they
-will succeed in gaining possession of the island, which is Cadiz. That
-will be of immense service to us, since, while we are fighting King
-Louis in the north, the Duke of Ormond, who goes out in that fleet in
-command of between thirteen and fourteen thousand men, will be able to
-attack the Duke of Anjou, or, as he now calls himself, King Philip V
-of Spain, in the south. But that is not all. We are not sending you
-there to add one more strong right arm to His Grace's forces--we could
-utilize that here, Mr. Crespin," and he bowed courteously, "but
-because we wish you to convey a message to him and the admirals."
-
-I, too, bowed again, and expressed by my manner that I was listening
-most attentively, while the earl continued:
-
-"The message is this: We have received information from a sure source
-that the galleons now on their way back to Spain from the Indies have
-altered their plan of arrival because they, in their turn, have been
-informed in some way, by some spy or traitor, that this expedition
-will sail from England. Therefore they will not go near Cadiz. But the
-spot to which they will proceed is Vigo, in the north. Now," and he
-rose as he spoke, and stood in front of the empty fireplace, "your
-business will be to convey this intelligence to Sir George Rooke and
-those under him, and I need not tell you that you are like enough to
-encounter dangers in so conveying it. Are you prepared to undertake
-them?"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III.
-
-I FIND A SHIP.
-
-
-"You see," the Earl of Marlborough continued, while Ginkell and I
-stood on either side of him, "that neither your risks nor your
-difficulties will be light. To begin with, you must pass as a
-Frenchman, or, at least, not an Englishman, for Cadiz, like all
-Spanish ports and towns, will not permit of any being there.
-Therefore, your only way to get into it is to be no Englishman. Now,
-how, Mr. Crespin, would you suggest reaching the place and obtaining
-entry? It is far away."
-
-I thought a moment on this; then I said:
-
-"But Portugal, my lord, is not closed to us. That country has not yet
-thrown in its lot with either France or Austria."
-
-"That is true. And the southern frontier of Portugal is very near to
-Spain--to Cadiz. You mean that?"
-
-"Yes. I could proceed to the frontier of Portugal, could perhaps get
-by sea to Tavira--then, as a Frenchman, cross into Spain, and so to
-Cadiz."
-
-He pondered a little on this, then said: "Yes, the idea is feasible.
-Only, how to go to Tavira?" and he bent over a chart lying on the
-table, and regarded it fixedly as he spoke. "How to do that?" running
-his finger down the coast line of Portugal as he spoke, and then up
-again as far north as the Netherlands, stopping at Rotterdam.
-
-"All traffic is closed," he muttered, "between Spain and Holland now,
-otherwise there would be countless vessels passing between Rotterdam
-and Cadiz which would doubtless put you ashore on the Portuguese
-coast. But now--now--there will scarce be any."
-
-Ginkell had been called away by one of his aides-de-camp as his
-lordship bent over the chart and mused upon it, or, doubtless, his
-astute Dutch mind might have suggested some way out of the difficulty
-that stared us in the face; but even as we pondered over the sheet an
-idea occurred to me.
-
-"My Lord," I said, "may I suggest this: That I should make my way to
-Rotterdam to begin with--by some chance there may be a ship going
-south--through some part of the bay at least. But even if it is not
-so--if all traffic is stopped--why then I could at least get to
-England, might arrive there before the fleet sails for Cadiz."
-
-"Nay," his Lordship interrupted; "you would be too late. They may have
-sailed by now."
-
-"I know not what further to propose, my Lord."
-
-"We must risk it," he said, promptly. "Chance your finding some vessel
-by which you can proceed, even if only part of the way. The hope is a
-poor one, yet 'tis worth catching at. King Louis wants the money those
-galleons are bringing; his coffers are empty; he hardly knows where to
-turn for the wherewithal to pay his and his grandson's men; we want
-it, too, if we can get it. Above all, we want to prevent the wealth
-falling into the hands of Spain, which now means France. Mr. Crespin,
-on an almost forlorn chance you must start for Rotterdam."
-
-"When shall I go, my Lord? To-night? At once?"
-
-"You are ready?"
-
-"I am ready."
-
-"Good! You have the successful soldier's qualities. Yes, you must go
-at once--at once."
-
- * * * * * * * * *
-
-That night I was on the road for Rotterdam, which is fifty leagues
-and more to the northeast of Kaiserswerth, so that I had a fair good
-ride before me ere I reached what might prove to be the true outset of
-my journey.
-
-I did not go alone, however, since at this time I rode in the company
-of my Lord Marlborough, who was returning to the Hague, to which he
-had come in March as Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to
-the States General, as well as Captain General of all Her Majesty's
-forces, both at home and abroad. Also, his Lordship had been chosen to
-command the whole of the allied forces combined against the King of
-France and his grandson, the King of Spain, whom we regarded only as
-the Duke of Anjou; and he was now making all preparations for that
-great campaign, which was already opened, and was soon to be pushed on
-with extreme vigour and with such success that at last the power and
-might of Louis were quite crushed and broken. This concerns not me,
-however, at present.
-
-Nor did my long ride in company with his Lordship and a brilliant
-staff offer any great incident. Suffice it, therefore, if I say that
-on the evening of the second day from my setting out, and fifty hours
-after I had quitted Kaiserswerth, I rode into Rotterdam, and, finding
-a bed for the night at the "Indian Coffee House," put up there.
-
-This I did not do, however, without some difficulty, since, at this
-time, Rotterdam was full of all kinds of people from almost every part
-of Europe, excepting always France and Spain, against the natives of
-which countries very strict laws for their expulsion had been passed
-since the declaration of war which was made conjointly by the Queen,
-the Emperor and the States General, against those two countries on the
-4th of May of this year, 1702.
-
-But of other peoples the town was, as I say, full. In the river there
-lay coasting vessels, deep sea vessels, merchant ships, indeed every
-kind of craft almost that goes out to sea, and belonging to England,
-to Holland, to Denmark and other lands. Also there were to be seen
-innumerable French vessels; but these were prizes which had been
-dragged in after being taken prisoners at sea, and would be disposed
-of shortly, as well as their goods and merchandise, by the Dyke-Grauf,
-or high bailiff. And of several of these ships, the captains and the
-seamen, as well as in many cases the passengers who were belated on
-their journeys, were all ashore helping to fill up the inns and
-taverns. Also troops were quartered about everywhere, these being not
-only the Dutch, or natives, who were preparing to go forward to the
-Hague and thence to wheresoever my Lord Marlborough should direct, but
-also many of our own, brought over by our great ships of war to
-Helvetsluys, and, themselves, on their way to serve under his command.
-
-The room, therefore, which I got at the Indian Coffee House, was none
-of the best, yet, since I was a soldier, I made shift with it very
-well, and in other ways the place was convenient enough for my
-purpose. It may be, indeed, that I could scarce have selected a better
-house at which to stop, seeing that the "ordinary" below was the one
-most patronized by the merchant captains who flocked in daily for
-their dinner, and for the conversation and smoking and drinking which
-succeeded that meal.
-
-And now, so that I shall arrive as soon as may be at the description
-of all that befell me, and was the outcome of the mission which the
-Earl of Marlborough confided to me, let me set down at once that it
-was not long before I, by great good chance, stumbled on that very
-opportunity which I desired, and which was so necessary to the
-accomplishment of what his Lordship wanted.
-
-This is how it happened:
-
-After the ordinary, at which I myself took a seat every day at one
-o'clock, the drinking and the smoking and the conversation began, as I
-have said, and none, however strange they might be at first to the
-customers of the place, could be there long without the making of
-acquaintances; for all the talk ran on the one subject in which all
-were interested and absorbed, namely, the now declared war and the
-fighting which had been done, and was also to do; on the stoppage to
-trade and ruin to business that must occur, and such like. And I can
-tell you that many an honest sea captain and many a burly Rotterdam
-burgher drank down his schnapps or his potato brandy or seidel of
-brown beer, as his taste might be, while heaving also of sighs, or
-muttering pious exclamations or terrible curses--also as his taste
-might direct--at the threatened ruin, and also at the fear which
-gripped his heart, that soon he would not have the wherewithal left
-for even these gratifications, humble as they were.
-
-"Curse the war!" said one, to whom I had spoken more than once. He
-was, indeed, my captain of _La Mouche Noire_, in whose ship you have
-already found me; "it means desolation for me and mine if it lasts,
-hunger and shoelessness for my wife and little ones at home in
-Shadwell. Above all I curse the ambition of the French king, who has
-plunged all Europe into it; placed all honest men 'twixt hawk and
-buzzard, as to fortune. Curse him, I say."
-
-"Ay, gurse him!" chimed in a fat Friesslander captain, who sat at his
-elbow. "Gurse him, I say, too. I was now choost maging for Chava;
-should have peen out of the riffer mit meine vreight if his vleet had
-not gorne along mit that von gursed Chean Part in it, ven I had to put
-pack. And here I am mit all mein goots----"
-
-"And here am I, mit all mein!" broke in my captain, a-laughing in
-spite of himself, "yet--yet I know not if I will not make a push for
-it. I think ever of the home at Shadwell and the little ones. I could
-not abide to think also of their calling for bread, and of their
-mother having none to give them. Yet 'twill come to that ere long. And
-the war may last for years."
-
-"Where were you for?" I asked him, using indeed what had become a set
-phrase in my mouth since I had consorted with all these sailors. For
-by enquiring of each one with whom I conversed what his destination
-had been, or would be if he had courage to risk the high seas outside,
-I thought that at last I might strike upon one whose way was mine. For
-all were not afraid to go forth; indeed there was scarcely a dark
-night in which one or two did not get down the river and sneak out
-into the open, thinking that, when there, there was a chance of
-escaping the French ships of war and privateers and of reaching their
-destination, while by remaining here there was no chance of earning a
-brass farthing. And I had known of several ships going out since I had
-been in Rotterdam, only they were of no use to me. One was bound for
-Archangel, another one for the Indies, a third for our colony of
-Massachusetts.
-
-"I," said my captain, whose name I knew afterward to be Tandy. "I? Oh,
-I was freighted for Cadiz. But of course, that can never be now. Yet
-if I could but get away I might do much with my goods. At Lisbon they
-would sell well, or even farther south. Though, 'tis true, there's not
-much money below that till one comes to Spain."
-
-Though I had thought the time must come when I should hear one of
-these sailors say that Cadiz was, or had been, his road (I knew that
-if it did not come soon 'twould be no good for me, and I might as well
-make my way back to my regiment), yet now, when I did so hear it, I
-almost started with joyful surprise. Yet even in so hearing, what had
-I gained? The captain had but said that at one time, before the
-declaration of hostilities, he had been ready to sail for Cadiz. He
-did not say that at this moment--almost three months later--he was
-still likely to go. Instead, had said it could never be now.
-
-But--for it meant much to me!--my heart beat a little faster as I
-asked, leaning across the beer and spirit-slopped table to him:
-
-"Do you ever on your cruises carry passengers?"
-
-He gave me a quick glance. I read it to mean that he would be glad to
-know what my object could be in such a question, put seriously and in
-a somewhat low tone, as though not intended for other people's ears.
-Then he said:
-
-"Oh! ay! I carry 'em, when I can get 'em, if they will pay fairly. But
-who do you think would trust themselves aboard a coaster now, in such
-times as these, unless she was under convoy of one of the queen's
-ships in company with others?"
-
-"I would," I replied, leaning even a little more forward than before,
-and speaking in a still lower tone. "I would, to get as near to Cadiz
-as might be. And pay well, too."
-
-He did not speak for a moment; instead, he glanced his eye over me as
-though scanning my outward gear for proof of what I had said as to
-paying handsomely. Yet I did not fear this scrutiny, for I was well
-enough appareled at all points, having when I left Venloo put off my
-uniform and donned a very fair riding suit of blue cloth, well faced
-and passemented; also my plain sword and wig were of the best, such as
-befitted a gentleman.
-
-"Pay well," he said, when he had concluded this inspection, "pay well.
-Humph! That might induce me, since I am like enough to lose my goods
-ere I sight Cape Finisterre. Pay well. You mean it? Well, now see!
-What would you pay? Come. A fancy price? To be put as near Cadiz as
-can be compassed. And no questions asked," and he winked at me so that
-I wondered what he took me for. Later on I found that he supposed me
-to be one of the many spies in the pay of France, who, because they
-had both the English and French tongue, were continually passing from
-one part of the continent of Europe to another.
-
-"As to the questions," I replied, "you might ask as many as you
-desired. They would not be answered. As to the pay, what will you
-take?"
-
-He thought a moment, and again his eye ranged over my habiliments;
-then he said, sharply:
-
-"A hundred guineas. Fifty down, on the nail, the rest at the end of
-the journey. You to take all risks. That is, I mean, even though we
-get no further than the mouth of the Scheldt--which is like enough.
-Say, will you give it?"
-
-"'Tis, indeed, a fancy price, yet, on conditions, yes," I answered
-promptly.
-
-"Those conditions being----"
-
-"That you weigh within twenty-four hours; that if we are chased you
-run, or even fight, till there is no further hope, and that if we
-escape capture you approach to the nearest point to Cadiz possible.
-Tavira to be that point."
-
-He got up and went out of the door into the street, and I saw him
-looking up into the heavens at the clouds passing beneath the sun.
-Then he came back and resumed his seat, after which he said:
-
-"If the wind keeps as 'tis now I will weigh ere twenty-four hours are
-past. The conditions to be as you say. And the fifty guineas to be in
-my hands ere we up anchor. They," he added, half to himself, "will be
-something for the home even though I lose my ship."
-
-And this being settled and all arrangements concluded, we went off in
-his boat, which was lying at the steps of the Boömjes, to see the
-ship. Then, I having selected my cabin out of two which he had
-unoccupied, returned to the coffee house to write my Lord Marlborough
-word of what I had done, to dispose of my horse--which I was sorry
-enough to do, since it was a good, faithful beast that had carried me
-well; yet there was no use in keeping it, I not knowing if I should
-ever see Rotterdam again--to make one or two other preparations, and
-to write to my mother at home.
-
-As to the hundred guineas--great as the demand was, I felt justified
-in paying it, since, if I succeeded in my task, the result might be
-splendid for England. Also I had a sufficiency of money with me, the
-earl having ordered two hundred guineas to be given me out of the
-regimental chest (which was pretty full, seeing that at Venloo eight
-great chests of French gold were taken possession of by us on gaining
-the town), and had also given me bills for three hundred more guineas,
-signed by his own hand, which the money changers would be only too
-glad to pay anywhere. And, besides this, I had some money of my own,
-and should have more from the sale of the horse.
-
-There remains one thing, however, to mention, which I have almost
-forgot to set down, namely, that at the Indian Coffee House I had
-given my name accurately, his Lordship, who was perfectly acquainted
-with France--indeed, he had once served her under Turenne, in his
-capacity of colonel of the "English Regiment" sent out by King Charles
-the Second--having said that Crespin was as much a French as an
-English name. And although no questions had as yet been asked as to
-what my business was, there being, indeed, none who had any right or
-title to so ask, I had resolved that, if necessary, I would do this:
-namely, here in Holland I would be English, since, at the time, and we
-being allies, it was almost one and the same thing; and that in Spain
-I would be French, which was also at the period one and the same
-thing. And if we were to be captured by any of Louis' privateers or
-ships of war also I should be French, in that case possibly a
-Canadian, to account for any strangeness in my accent.
-
-And with this all fixed in my mind I made my preparations for going to
-sea in _La Mouche Noire_.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.
-
-AN ESCAPE.
-
-
-The wind shifted never a point, so that, ere sunset the next day, we
-were well down the river and nearing the mouth, while already ahead of
-us we could see the waves of the North Sea tumbling about. Also, we
-could see something else, that we could have done very well without,
-namely, the topmasts of a great frigate lying about three miles off
-the coast, or rather cruising about and keeping off and on, the vessel
-being doubtless one of Louis' warships, bent on intercepting anything
-that came out of the river.
-
-"Yet," said Captain Tandy, as he stood on the poop and regarded her
-through his perspective glass, "she will not catch us. Let but the
-night fall, and out we go, while, thanks to the Frenchman who built
-our little barky, we can keep so well in that she can never come anear
-us."
-
-"She can come near enough, though, to send a round shot or two into
-our side," I hazarded, "if she sees our lights."
-
-"She won't see our lights," the captain made answer, and again he
-indulged in that habit which seemed a common one with him--he winked
-at me; a steady, solemn kind of a wink, that, properly understood,
-conveyed a good deal. And, having favoured me with it, he gave orders
-that the light sail under which we had come down the river should be
-taken in, and, this done, we lay off the little isle of Rosenberg,
-which here breaks the Maas in two, until nightfall.
-
-And now it was that Tandy gave me a piece of information which, at
-first, I received with anything but satisfaction; the information, to
-wit, that at the last moment almost--at eleven o'clock in the morning,
-and before I had come on board--he had been fortunate enough to get
-another passenger, this passenger being the man Carstairs--or
-Cuddiford, as he came to consider him--whom, at the opening of this
-narrative, you have seen in a delirium.
-
-"I could not refuse the chance, Mr. Crespin," he said, for he knew
-my name by now. "Things are too ill with me, owing to this accursed
-fresh war, for me to throw guineas away. So when his blackamoor
-accosted me at the 'Indian' and said that he heard I was going a
-voyage south--God, He knows how these things leak out, since I had
-never spoke a word of my intention, though some of the men, or the
-ship's chandler, of whom I bought last night, may have done so--and
-would I take his master and him? I was impelled to do it! There are
-the wife and the children at home."
-
-"And have you got another hundred guineas from him?" I asked.
-
-"Ay, for him and the black. But they will not trouble you. The old
-gentleman--who seems to be something like a minister--tells me he is
-not well, and will not quit his cabin. The negro will berth near him;
-they will not interfere with you."
-
-"Do they know there is another passenger aboard?"
-
-"I have not spoken to the old man; maybe, however, some of the sailors
-may have told the servant. Yet none know your name; but I--it can be
-kept secret an you wish." And again he winked at me, thinking, of
-course, as he had done before, that my business was of a ticklish
-nature, as indeed it was, though not quite that which he supposed.
-Nay, he felt very sure it must be so, since otherwise he would have
-got no hundred guineas out of me for such a passage.
-
-"I do not wish it known," I said. "It _must_ be kept secret. Also my
-country. There must be no talking."
-
-"Never fear," he replied. "I know nothing. And I do not converse with
-the men, most of whom are Hollanders, since I had to pick them up in a
-hurry. As for the old man, you need not see him; and, if you do, you
-can keep your own counsel, I take it."
-
-I answered that I could very well do that; after which the captain
-left me--for now the night had come upon us, dark and dense, except
-for the stars, and we were about to run out into the open. But even as
-I watched the men making sail, and felt the little ship running
-through the water beneath me--I could soon hear her fore foot gliding
-through it with a sharp ripple that resembled the slitting of silk--I
-wished that those other passengers had not come aboard, that I could
-have made the cruise alone.
-
-Yet we were aboard, he and I, and there was no help for it; it must be
-endured. But still I could not help wondering what any old minister
-should want to be making such a journey as this for; especially
-wondered, also, why he should be attended by a black servant; and why,
-again, it should be worth his while to pay a hundred guineas for the
-passage.
-
-But you know now as well as I do that this man was no minister, but
-rather, if Tandy's surmises were right, some villainous old filibuster
-who had lived through evil days and known evil spirits; my meditations
-are, therefore, of no great import. Rather let me get on to what was
-the outcome of my journey.
-
-When we were at sea we showed no light at all; no! not at foremast,
-main or mizzen; so that I very well understood now why the captain had
-winked as he said that the Frenchman, if she was that, would not see
-us; and especially I understood it when, on going below, I found that
-the cabin windows were fastened with dead lights so that no ray could
-steal out from them. Also, the hatches were over the companions so
-that neither could any light ascend from below. In truth, as we
-slapped along under the stiff northeast breeze that blew off the
-Holland coast, we seemed more like some dark flying spectre of the
-night than a ship, and I could not but wonder to myself what we should
-be taken for if seen by any passer-by. Yet, had I only known, there
-were at that time hundreds of ships passing about in all these waters
-in the same manner--French ships avoiding the English war vessels, and
-English and Dutch avoiding the French war vessels; and--which,
-perhaps, it was full as well I did not know--sometimes two of them
-came into contact with each other, after which neither was ever more
-heard of. Only, in different ports there were weeping women and
-children left, who--sometimes for years!--prayed for the day to come
-when the wanderers might return, they never knowing that, instead of
-those poor toilers of the sea having been made prisoners (as they
-hoped) who would at last be exchanged, they were lying at the bottom
-of the sea.
-
-"'Tis a gay minister, at any rate," I said to Captain Tandy when I
-returned to the deck--for all was so stuffy down below, owing to the
-closing up of every ingress for the fresh air, that I could not remain
-there--"and he at least seems not to mind the heat."
-
-"What is he doing, then?" the captain asked.
-
-"He is singing a little," I replied, "and through the half open door
-of his cabin one may hear the clinking of bottle against glass. A
-merry heart."
-
-"The fiend seize his mirth! I hope he will not make too much turmoil,
-nor set the ship afire. If he does we shall be seen easy enough."
-
-I hoped so, too, and as each night the old man waxed more noisy and
-the clink of the bottle was heard continuously--until at last his
-drinking culminated as I have written--the fear which the captain had
-expressed took great hold of me, so that I could scarce sleep at all.
-Yet those fears were not realized, the Lord be praised! or I should
-scarcely be penning this narrative now.
-
-The first night passed and, as 'twas summer, the dawn soon came, by
-which time we were running a little more out to sea, though--since to
-our regret we saw that the frigate was on our beam instead of being
-left far behind, as we had hoped would be the case--we now sailed
-under false colours. Therefore at our peak there flew at this
-time the lilies of France, and not our own English flag. Yet 'twas
-necessary--imperative, indeed--that such should be the case if we
-would escape capture. And even those despised lilies might not save us
-from that. If the frigate, which we knew by this time to be a ship of
-war, since her sides were pierced three tiers deep for cannon, and on
-her deck we could observe soldiers, suspected for a moment those
-colours to be false she would slap a shot at us; the first, perhaps,
-across our bows only, but the second into our waist, or, if that
-missed, then the third, which would doubtless do our office for us.
-
-At present, however, she did nothing, only held on steadily on her
-course, which nevertheless was ominous enough, for this action told
-plainly that she had seen us leave the river, or she would have
-remained luffing about there still. And, also, she must have known we
-were not French, for what French ship would have been allowed to come
-out of the Maas as we had come?
-
-She did nothing, I have said; yet was not that sleuth-like following
-of hers something? Did it not expound the thoughts of her captain as
-plainly as though he had uttered them in so many words? Did it not
-tell that he was in doubt as to who and what we were; that he set off
-against the suspicious fact of our having quitted the river, which
-bristled with the enemies of France, the other facts, namely, that our
-ship was built French fashion, that maybe he could read her French
-name on her stern, and that she flew the French flag?
-
-Yet what puzzled us more than aught else was, how had the frigate
-known that we had so got out? The night had been dark and black, and
-we showed no lights.
-
-Still she knew it.
-
-The day drew on and, with it, the sea abated a little, so that the
-tumbling waves, which had often obscured the frigate from us for some
-time, and, doubtless, us from it, became smoother, and Tandy, who had
-never taken his eye off the great ship, turned round and gave now an
-order to the men to hoist more sail. Also another to the man at the
-wheel to run in a point.
-
-Then he came to where I was standing, and said:
-
-"She draws a little nearer; I fear they will bring us to. Ha! as I
-thought." And even as he spoke there came a puff from the frigate's
-side; a moment later the report of a gun; another minute, and, hopping
-along the waves went a big round shot, some fifty yards ahead of us.
-
-"What will you do?" I asked the captain. "The next will not be so far
-ahead."
-
-"Run for it," he said. "They may not hit us--short of a broadside--and
-if I can get in another mile or so they cannot follow. Starboard, you
-below," he called out again to the man at the wheel, and once more
-bellowed his orders to the men aloft.
-
-This brought the ship's head straight for where the land was--we could
-see it plain enough with the naked eye, lying flat and low, ten miles
-away--also it brought our stern to the frigate, so that we presented
-nothing but that to them--a breadth of no more than between twenty and
-twenty-five feet.
-
-"'Twill take good shooting to hit us this way," said Tandy very
-coolly. "Yet, see, they mean to attempt it."
-
-That this was so, one could perceive in a moment; then came three
-puffs, one after the other, from their upper tier; then the three
-reports; then the balls hurtling along on either side of us, one just
-grazing our larboard yard-arm--we saw the splinters fly like
-feathers!--the others close enough, but doing no harm.
-
-"Shoot, and be damned to you," muttered Tandy; "another ten minutes
-more, and you can come no further. Look," and he pointed ahead of us
-to where I saw, a mile off, the water crisping and foaming over a
-shoal bank, "'tis eight miles outside Blankenberg, and is called 'The
-Devil's Bolster.' And we can get inside it, and they cannot." Then
-again he bellowed fresh orders, which even I, a landsman, understood
-well enough, or, at least, their purport. They were to enable us to
-get round and inside the reef, and so place it between us and the
-frigate.
-
-They saw our move as soon as it was made, however, whereupon the
-firing from their gun-ports grew hotter, the balls rattling about us
-now in a manner that made me fear the ship must be struck ere long;
-nay, she was struck once, a round shot catching her on her starboard
-quarter and tearing off her sheathing in a long strip. Yet, at
-present, that was all the harm she had got, excepting that her mizzen
-shroud was cut in half.
-
-But now we were ahead of the reef and about half a mile off it; ten
-minutes later we were inside it, and, the frigate being able to
-advance no nearer because of her great draught, we were safe. They
-might shoot, as the captain said, and be damned to them; but shoot as
-much as they chose, they were not very like to hit us, since we were
-out of range. We were well in sight of each other, however, the reef
-lying like a low barricade betwixt us, and I could not but laugh at
-the contempt which the sturdy Dutch sailors we had on board testified
-for the discomfited Frenchmen. There were three of them at work on the
-fo'castle head at the time the frigate left off her firing, and no
-sooner did she do so and begin to back her sails to leave us in
-peace--though doubtless she meant lying off in wait for us when we
-should creep out--than these great Hollanders formed themselves into a
-sort of dance figure, and commenced capering and skipping about, with
-derisive gestures made at the great ship. And as we could see them
-regarding us through their glasses, by using our own, we knew very
-well that they saw these gestures of contempt. Tandy, however, soon
-put a stop to these, for, said he, "They may lie out there a week
-waiting for us, and if then they catch us, they will not forget. And
-'twill go all the harder with us for our scorn. Peace, fools, desist."
-Whereon the men left off their gibes.
-
-"Lie out there a week," thinks I to myself. "Fore Gad! I trust that
-may not be so. For if they do, and one delay follows another, heaven
-knows when I shall see Cadiz. Too late, anyway, to send the fleet
-after the galleons, who will, I fear, be in and unloaded long before
-the admiral can get up to Vigo."
-
-Yet, as luck would have it, the frigate was not to lie there very
-long--not even so long as an hour. For, see, now, how Providence did
-intervene to help me on my way, and to remove at least that one
-obstacle to my going forward on my journey.
-
-Scarce had those lusty Dutch sailors been ordered off the head by
-Tandy than, as I was turning away from laughing at them, my attention
-was called back by a shout from the same quarter, and on looking
-round, I saw two of them spring up the ladder again to the very spot
-they had left, and begin pointing eagerly away beyond the frigate. And
-following their glances and pointing, this is what I saw:
-
-Two other great ships looming large on the seascape, rising rapidly
-above the water, carrying all their canvas, coming on at a mighty
-rate. Two great ships sailing very free but near together, which in a
-few moments spread apart, so that they put me in mind of some huge
-bird opening of its wings--I know not why, yet so it was!--and then
-came on at some distance from each other, their vast black hulls
-rising every moment, and soon the foam becoming visible beneath their
-bows as their fore feet flung it asunder.
-
-"Down with that rag," shouted Tandy, squinting up at the lilies on our
-peak, and hardly shifting his perspective glass to do so. "Down with
-it, and up with our own. My word! The Frenchman will get a full meal
-now. Look at their royal masts and the flag of England flying on
-them."
-
-I did look, and, after a hasty glance, at something else--the French
-frigate, our late pursuer!
-
-Be very sure that she had seen those two avengers coming up in that
-fair breeze--also that she was making frantic efforts to escape. But
-her sails were all laid aback as I have said, also, she was off the
-wind. The glasses showed the confusion that prevailed on board her.
-And she had drifted so near the shoal that her danger was great.
-Unless she boldly ran out to meet those two queen's ships she would be
-on it ere long, and that was what she dared not do.
-
-For now from the others we saw the puff of smoke, like white balls of
-wool, come forth; we saw the spits of flame; saw the Frenchman's
-mainmast go down five minutes later, and hang over the side nearest us
-like some wounded creature all entangled in a net. And still she
-neared the shoal, and still the white balls puffed out till they made
-a long fleecy line, through which the red flames darted; borne on the
-air we heard shouts and curses; amidst the roaring of the English
-cannon firing on the helpless, stricken thing, we heard another sound,
-a grinding, crashing sound, and we knew she was on the bank. Then saw
-above, at her mizzen, the French flag pulled down upon the cap, and
-heard through their trumpets their loud calls for assistance from the
-conquerors.
-
-"Humph! Humph!" said Tandy. "Old Lewis," for so he spoke of him, "has
-got one ship the less--that's all. Loose the foresheet, there, my
-lads; stand by the mainsail halyards. Good. That's it; all together!"
-
-And away once more we went.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-
-THE ENGLISH SHIPS OF WAR.
-
-
-After that we met with no further trouble or interference, not even,
-so far as we knew, being passed by anything of more importance than a
-few small carrying craft similar to ourselves, who bore away from us
-on sighting with as much rapidity as we were prepared to bear away
-from them, since in those days, and for long after, no ship passing
-another at sea but dreaded it as though it was the Evil One himself;
-dreaded that the cabin windows, with their clean dimity cloths run
-across them, might be, in truth, nothing but masked gun ports with the
-nozzles of the cannon close up against the other side of those running
-curtains; dreaded, also, that, behind the bales of goods piled up in
-the waist, might be lurking scores of men, armed to the teeth, and
-ready for boarding!
-
-Also, as though to favour us--or me, who needed to get to the end of
-my journey as soon as might be--the wind blew fresh and strong abaft
-us from the north, so that by the evening of the fifth day from
-leaving Rotterdam we were drawing well to our journey's end, and were,
-in fact, rounding Cape St. Vincent, keeping in so near the coast that
-we could not only see the cruel rocks that jut out here like the teeth
-of some sea monster, but also the old monks sitting sunning themselves
-in front of their monastery above the cliffs.
-
-And now it was at that time, and when we were getting very near to
-Tavira--which must be our journey's end, unless the English fleet, of
-which Lord Marlborough had spoken, was already into Cadiz, and masters
-of the place--that the old man who called himself Carstairs was taken
-with his delirium, of which I have written already.
-
-But, as also I have told, he was better the next day, by noon of which
-we were well into the Bay of Lagos, and running for Cape Santa Maria;
-and 'twas then that he told me that story of his having much business
-to attend to at Cadiz, and that, the galleons being now due there, he
-was on his way to meet them.
-
-That I laughed in my sleeve at the fool's errand on which this old man
-had come--this old man, who had been a thieving buccaneer, if his
-wanderings and Tandy's suspicions were true--you may well believe.
-Also, I could not help but fall a-wondering how he would feel if, on
-nearing Tavira, we learnt that our countrymen were masters of Cadiz.
-For then he would do no business with his precious galleons, even
-should my Lord Marlborough be wrong--which, however, from the sure
-way in which he had spoken, I did not think was very like to be the
-case--and even if they had made for Cadiz, since they would at once be
-seized upon.
-
-It was, however, of extreme misfortune that just at this time when all
-was so well for my chances, and when we were nearing our destination,
-the weather should have seen fit to undergo a sudden change, and that
-not only did the wind shift, but all the summer clearness of the back
-end of this fair August month should have departed. Indeed, so strange
-a change came over the elements that we knew not what to make of it.
-Up to now the heat had been great, so great, indeed, that I--who could
-neither endure the stuffiness of my cabin below nor the continual
-going and coming of the negro in the gangway which separated his
-master's cabin from mine, nor the stench of some drugs the old man was
-continually taking--had been sleeping on the deck. But now the tempest
-became so violent that I was forced to retreat back to the cabin, to
-bear the closeness as best I might, to hear the flappings of the black
-creature's great feet on the wooden floor at all hours of the night,
-and, sometimes again, the yowlings of the old man for drink.
-
-For with the shifting of the wind to the east, or rather east by
-south, a terrible storm had come upon us; across the sea it howled and
-tore, buffeting our ship sorely and causing such destruction that it
-seemed like enough each moment that we should go to the bottom, and
-this in spite of every precaution being taken, even to striking our
-topmasts. Also we lay over so much to our starboard, and for so long,
-that again and again it seemed as though we should never right, while
-as we thus lay, the sea poured into us from port and scuttle. But what
-was worse for me--or would be worse if we lived through the tempest we
-were now in the midst of--we were being blown not only off our course,
-but back again the very way we had come, and out into the western
-ocean, so that to all else there had to be added the waste of most
-precious time. Time that, in my case, was golden!
-
-Meanwhile Carstairs, who during the whole of our passage from
-Rotterdam had carefully kept his cabin--not even coming on deck during
-the time we were chased by the French frigate nor, later, when the two
-ships of war had battered and driven her on to the shoal bank--now saw
-fit to appear on deck and to take a keen interest in all that was
-going on around.
-
-"A brave storm," he said, shrieking the words in my ear--I having at
-last struggled up again to get air--amidst the howling of the wind and
-the fall of the sea upon our deck, each wave sounding as though a
-mountain had fallen, "a brave storm! Ha! I have seen a-many, yet I
-know not if ever one worse than this."
-
-"What think you of our chances?" I bawled back at him, while I noticed
-that his eye was brighter and clearer than I had seen it before, and
-that in his face there was some colour.
-
-"We shall do very well," he answered, "having borne up till now. That
-fellow knows his work," and he nodded toward where Tandy was engaged
-in getting the foreyard swayed up. "We shall do."
-
-His words were indeed prophetic, for not an hour after he had uttered
-them the wind shifted once more, coming now full from the south, which
-was, however, of all directions the very one we would not have had it
-in; and with the change the sea went down rapidly, so that in still
-another hour the waves, instead of breaking over our decks, only
-slapped heavily against the ship's sides, while the vessel itself
-wallowed terribly amongst them. Yet so far we were saved from worse.
-
-But now to this there succeeded still another change--the sea began to
-smoke as though it were afire; from it there rose a cold steaming
-vapour, and soon we could not see twenty yards ahead of us, nor was
-the man at the wheel able to see beyond the fore-hatch. So that now we
-could not move in any direction for fear of what might be near, and
-were forced to burn lights and fire guns at intervals to give notice
-of our whereabouts in chance of passers by.
-
-Again, however--this time late at night--the elements changed, the
-mist and fog thinned somewhat and rose some feet from the surface of
-the now almost tranquil sea; it was at last possible to look ahead
-somewhat, though not possible to proceed, even if the light wind which
-blew beneath the fog would have taken us the way we desired to go.
-
-And still the mist cleared so that we could see a mile--or two
-miles--around, and then we observed a sight that none of us could
-comprehend, not even Cuddiford, who whispered once to himself, though
-I heard him plain enough, "What in the name of the devil does it mean?
-What? What?"
-
-Afar off, on our starboard quarter, we saw in the darkness of the
-night--there was no moon--innumerable lights dotting the sea; long
-lines of light such as tiers of ports will emit from ships, also
-lights higher up, as though on mastheads and yards--numbers of them,
-some scores each in their cluster.
-
-Cuddiford's voice sounded in my ear. Cuddiford's finger was laid on my
-arm.
-
-"You understand?" he asked.
-
-"No."
-
-"'Tis some great fleet."
-
-I started--hardly could I repress that start or prevent myself from
-exclaiming: "The English fleet for Cadiz!"
-
-Yet even as I did so, the water rippled on the bows where we were
-standing. It sounded as if those ripples blended with the man's voice
-and made a chuckling laugh.
-
-"A large fleet," he said slowly, "leaving Spain and making for the
-open."
-
-Then a moment later he was gone from my side.
-
-Leaving Spain and making for the open! What then did that mean?
-"Leaving Spain and making for the open!" I repeated to myself again.
-Was that true? And to assure myself I leant further forward into the
-night--as though half a yard nearer to those passing lights would
-assist my sight!--and peered at those countless clusters.
-
-Was it the English fleet that was leaving Spain? Whether that was or
-not--whether 'twas in truth the English fleet or not--it _was_ leaving
-Spain; I could understand that. We in our ship were almost stationary;
-that body was rapidly passing out to sea.
-
-What did it mean? Perhaps that the English had done their
-work--destroyed Cadiz. I did not know if such were possible, but
-thought it might be so. Perhaps that the galleons had been on their
-way in, after all, and had been warned of those who were there before
-them, and so had turned tail and fled.
-
-Yet I feared--became maddened and distraught almost at the very
-idea--that, having done their work, my countrymen should have left the
-place, gone out to the open on, perhaps, their way back to England.
-Became maddened because, if such were the case, there was no
-opportunity left me of advising them about the galleons. While, on the
-other hand, if that passing fleet was in truth the galleons, then were
-they saved, since never would they come near the coast of Spain again
-while British ships remained there. Rather would they keep the open
-for months, rather put back again to the Indies than run themselves
-into the lion's jaws.
-
-Truly I was sore distressed in pondering over all this; truly my
-chance of promotion seemed very far off now. Yet I had one
-consolation: I had done my best; it was not my fault.
-
-That night, to make things more unpleasant than they already
-were--and to me it seemed that nothing more was wanting to aid my
-melancholy!--Cuddiford began his drinkings and carousals again,
-shutting off himself with the negro in his cabin, from whence shortly
-issued the sounds of glasses clinking, of snatches of songs--in which
-the black joined--of halloaing and of toasts and other things. Ribald
-bawlings, too, of a song of which I could catch only a few words now
-and again, but which seemed to be about a mouse which had escaped from
-a trap and also from a great fierce cat ready to pounce on it. Then,
-once more, clappings and clinkings of glasses together--an intolerable
-noise, be sure!--and presently, with an oath, confusion drank to
-England.
-
-"So," thinks I, "my gentleman, that is how you feel, is it? Confusion
-to England! Who and what are you, then, in the devil's name? Spy of
-France or Spain, besides being retired filibuster, or what? Confusion
-to England, eh?"
-
-And even as I thought this and heard his evil toast, I determined to
-hear more. Whereon I slipped quietly off my bunk, got out into the
-gangway and listened across it to his cabin opposite, feeling very
-sure as I did so that both he and his black imagined I was up on deck.
-
-Then I heard him say, going on, evidently, with a phrase he had begun:
-
-"Wherefore, I tell you, my lily, my white pearl, that those accursed
-seamen and soldiers--this Rooke, who chased me once so that I lost
-all my goods in my flight--are tricked, hoodwinked, _embustera;
-flanqués comme une centaine d'escargots!_ Done for--and so is this
-white-livered Englishman over there in t'other cabin--who I do believe
-is an English spy. Ho! that we had him in Maracaibo or Guayaquil.
-Hein! Hey! my snowball?"
-
-"Hoop! Hoop!" grunted the brute, his companion. "Hoop! Maracaibo!
-Hoop! But, but, John"--"John," thinks I, "and to his master!"--"don't
-speak so loud. Perhaps they hear you."
-
-"Let them hear and be damned to them. What care I?" Yet still he
-lowered his voice, though not so low but what I made out his words:
-
-"Fitted out a fleet, did they, to intercept the galleons? Oh! the
-beautiful galleons! Oh! the sweet and lovely galleons! Oh, my
-beautiful _Neustra Senora de Mercedes_. You remember how she sits on
-the water like a swan, Cćsar? And the beautiful _Santa Susanna!_ What
-ships! what lading! Oh! I heard it all in London. I know. Thought they
-would catch 'em in Cadiz, did they? Ha! Very well. Now, see, my lily
-white. They have been too quick; got in too soon--and--and what's the
-end on't? Those are the galleons going out--back again to the sea--and
-the English fleet can stop in Cadiz till the forts sink 'em or they
-rot. Give me some more drink. 'Of all the girls that there can be, the
-Indy girl's the girl for me,'" and he fell a-singing.
-
-"If he is right, my Lord Marlborough has been deceived," I whispered
-to myself. "Yet which knows the most? Still this old ruffian must be
-right. Who else could be putting to sea but the galleons?" and I went
-back once more to my cabin to ponder over matters.
-
-But now--all in a moment--there arose such an infernal hubbub from
-that other cabin that one might have thought all the fiends from below
-had been suddenly let loose; howls from the negro, so that I thought
-the other must be killing of him in his drunken frenzy; peals of
-laughter from the old man, bangings and kickings of bulkheads and the
-crash of a falling glass. And, in the middle of it all, down ran Tandy
-from the deck above, with, as I thought, a more concerned look upon
-his face than even such an uproar as this called for. Then he made at
-once for the cabin where those two were; yet, even as he advanced
-swiftly, he paused to ask me if I had heard him speak a passing
-picaroon a quarter of an hour back.
-
-"Not I," I replied. "Who could hear aught above in such a din as this
-below? What did they tell you?"
-
-"Bad! Bad news. But first to quell these brutes," and he ran on as he
-spoke, and kicked against the fast-closed cabin door.
-
-"Bad news!" I repeated to myself, even as I followed him. "Bad news.
-My God! the old villain is right and the galleons have escaped.
-Farewell, my hopes of promotion; I may as well get back to the
-regiment by the first chance that comes."
-
-But now I had to listen to Tandy setting his other passenger to his
-facings, which he did without more ado, since, the cabin door not
-being opened quick enough, he applied his brawny shoulder to it and
-soon forced it to slide back in its frame, the lock being torn out by
-his exertion. Then after a few oaths and curses, which need not be set
-down here, he roared as follows:
-
-"See here, you drunken, disreputable old vagabond, out you go from
-this ship to-morrow morning, either ashore in Lagos bay or in the first
-Guarda Costa or sailing smack that comes anigh us carrying the
-Portygee colours. And as for you, you black, shambling brute," turning
-to the negro and seizing him by the wool, whereby he dragged him into
-the gangway, after which he administered to him a rousing kick, "get
-you forward amongst the men, and, by God! if you come back aft again
-I'll shoot you like a dog."
-
-"My friend," said old Carstairs, speaking now with as much sobriety
-and dignity as though he had been drinking water all these days; "my
-good friend, you forget. I have paid my passage to Cadiz, and to Cadiz
-I will go, or the nearest touching point. Also, there are laws----"
-
-"There are," roared Tandy, "and 'twill not suit you to come within a
-hundred leagues of any of them. To-morrow you go ashore."
-
-"I have business with the in-coming galleons," said Carstairs, leering
-at him. "Those galleons going out now will come in again, you know.
-Soon!" and still he leered.
-
-"Galleons, you fool!" replied the captain. "Those are the English
-warships. Your precious galleons may be at the bottom of the ocean.
-Very like are by now."
-
-And then that old man's face was a sight to see, as, suddenly, it
-blanched a deathly white.
-
-"The English warships," he murmured. "The English warships," and then
-fell back gasping to his berth, muttering: "Out here! Out here!"
-
-"Is this true?" I asked him a moment later, as we went along forward
-together. "Is it true?"
-
-"Ay, partly," he replied. "Partly. They are the English ships of war,
-but, my lad, I have had news which I did not tell him. They are in
-retreat. Have failed. Cadiz is not taken, and they are on their way
-back to England."
-
-"My God!" I exclaimed. And I know that as I so spoke I, too, was white
-to the lips.
-
-"On their way back to England!" I repeated.
-
-"Ay--that's it," he said.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.
-
-GALLEONS ABOUT!
-
-
-"What's to do now? That's the question," said Tandy, an hour later, as
-he and I sat in his little cabin abaft the mainmast, while, to hearten
-ourselves up, we sipped together a bottle of Florence wine which he
-had on board, and he sucked at his great pipe. "What now? No use for
-me to think of Cadiz, though what a chance I would have had if our
-countrymen had only made themselves masters of it! And for you, Mr.
-Crespin? For you? I suppose, in truth, you knew of this--had some
-affair of commerce, too, which brought you this way, on the idea that
-they would be sure to capture the place."
-
-"Ay, I had some idea," I answered, moodily, thinking it mattered very
-little what I said now, short of the still great secret that the
-galleons were going into Vigo, and never did mean coming into these
-more southern regions. This secret I still kept, I say--and for one
-reason. It was this, namely, that I thought it very likely that, even
-though the fleet under Rooke might be driven back from Cadiz, they yet
-had a chance of encountering the galleons making their way up to Vigo,
-and, if they did so, I felt very sure that they would attack those
-vessels, even in their own hour of defeat. Therefore, I said nothing
-about the real destination of the Spanish treasure ships, though I
-knew well enough that all hope was gone of my being the fortunate
-individual to put my countrymen on their track.
-
-Also, I remembered that that hoary-headed old ruffian, Carstairs, had
-spoken of two at least of those galleons as being of importance to
-him--and you may be sure that I had no intention whatever of
-enlightening him as to anything I knew.
-
-"What did the Portuguese picaroon tell you?" I asked of Tandy, now;
-"what information give? And--are they sure of their news?"
-
-"Oh, very sure," he answered. "No doubt about that. No doubt whatever
-that we have failed in the attack on Cadiz--abandoned the siege, gone
-home. They were too many for us there, and--'tis not often that it
-happens, God be praised!--we are beaten."
-
-"But why so sure? And are they--these Portuguese--to be trusted?"
-
-"What use to tell lies? They _are_ Portuguese, and would have welcomed
-a victory."
-
-I shrugged my shoulders at this--then asked again what the strength of
-their information was.
-
-To which the captain made reply:
-
-"They came in, it seems, early in the month, and called on the
-governor to declare for Austria against France, to which he returned
-reply that it was not his custom to desert his king, as many of the
-English were in the habit of doing, he understood; whereon--the Duke
-of Ormond being vexed by such an answer, which, it seems, did reflect
-on him--the siege of Port St. Mary's commenced, the place being taken
-by our people and being found to be full of wealth----"
-
-"Taken and full of wealth!" I exclaimed. "Yet you say we are
-defeated!"
-
-"Listen," went on Tandy, "that was as nothing; for now the German
-Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt, who had come too, in the interests of his
-Austrian master, interfered, begging of Rooke and that other not to
-destroy the town, since it would injure their cause forever with the
-Spaniards, and--and--well, the Portygee captain of that picaroon I
-spoke says that they were only too willing to fall in with his desires
-and retire without making further attempt."
-
-"And these are English seamen and soldiers!" I muttered furiously. "My
-God! To turn tail thus!"
-
-"Ormond agreed not with these views, it seems," Tandy went on, "but he
-could not outweigh the admirals--and that is all I know, except that
-he will perhaps impeach 'em when they get back to England. And,
-anyway, they are gone."
-
-"And with them," I thought to myself, "go all my hopes. The galleons
-will get in safe enough; there is nothing for it but to make back for
-Holland and tell the earl that I have failed. No more than that," and
-my bitterness was great within me at these reflections, you may be
-sure.
-
-Tandy, I doubted not, observed these feelings which possessed me, for
-a minute later he said--while I observed that in a kindly way he
-filled up my glass for me, as I sat brooding with my head upon my
-hands by the side of the cuddy table:
-
-"I see this touches you nearly, Mr. Crespin, and am grieved. Yet
-what will you do now? Since you have missed your chance--I know not
-what--will you return with me? If so you are very welcome, and--and,"
-he spoke this with a delicacy I should scarce have looked for, "and
-there will be no--no--passage money needed. _La Mouche Noire_ is at
-your service to Rotterdam, or, for the matter of that, to Deal or
-London, or where you will. I shall but stay to go in to Lagos for wood
-and water, and, perhaps, sell some of my goods, if fortune serves so
-far, and then--why then, 'tis back again to Holland or England to see
-what may be done. I have the passage moneys of you and that old ribald
-aft. For me things might be worse, thank God!"
-
-At first I knew not what answer to make to this kindly, offer--for
-kindly it was, since there was according to our compact no earthly
-reason whatsoever why he should convey me back again, except as a
-passenger paying highly for the service. In truth, I was so sick and
-hipped at the vanishing of this, my great opportunity, that I had
-recked nothing of what happened now. All I knew was that I had failed;
-that I had missed, although through no fault of mine own, a glorious
-chance. Therefore I said gloomily:
-
-"Do what you will--I care not. I must get me back to Holland somehow,
-and may as well take passage there with you as go other ways. In truth
-there is none that I know of. Yet, kind as your offer is to convey me
-free of charge, it must not be. I cannot let you be at a loss, and I
-have a sufficiency of money."
-
-"Oh! as for that, 'tis nothing. However, we will talk on this later.
-Now let's see for getting into Lagos--there is nothing else to be
-done. 'Specially as I must have wood and water."
-
-Then he went away to study his chart and compass, while I sought my
-bed again, and, all being perfect silence at this time in Carstairs'
-cabin--doubtless he was quite drunk by now!--I managed to get some
-sleep, though 'twas uneasy at the best.
-
-In the morning when I again went on deck I saw that we were in full
-sail, as I had guessed us to be from the motion of the ship while
-dressing myself below; also, a look at the compass box told me we were
-running due north--for Lagos. And, if aught could have cheered the
-heart of a drooping man, it should have been the surroundings of this
-fair, bright morning. It was, I remember well, September 22--the
-glistening sea, looking like a great blue diamond sparkling beneath
-the bright sun, the white spume flung up forward over our bows, the
-equally white sheets above. Also, near us, to add to the beauty of the
-morn, the sea was dotted with a-many small craft, billander rigged,
-their sails a bright scarlet--and these, Tandy told me, were
-Portuguese fishing boats out catching the tunny, which abounds
-hereabout. While, away on our starboard beam, were--I started as I
-looked at them--what were they?
-
-Three great vessels near together, their huge white sails bellied out
-to the breeze, sailing very free; the foam tossed from their stems,
-almost contemptuously, it seemed, so proudly did they dash it away
-from them; vessels full rigged, and tightly, too; vessels along the
-sides of which there ran tier upon tier of gun-ports; vessels also,
-from each of whose mastheads there flew a flag--the flag of England!
-
-"What does it mean?" I asked Tandy, who strolled along the poop toward
-me, his face having on it a broad grin, while his eye drooped into
-that wink he used so. "What does it mean? They are our own ships of
-war; surely they are not chasing us!"
-
-"Never fear!" said he. "They are but consorts of ours just now. Oh!
-it's a brave talk we have been having together with the flags this
-morning. They are of the fleet--are Her Majesty's ships _Eagle_,
-_Stirling Castle_ and _Pembroke_--and are doing exactly the same as
-ourselves, are going into Lagos for water. Also those transports
-behind," and he pointed away aft, where half a dozen of those vessels
-were following.
-
-"The fleet," I gasped, "the fleet that has left Cadiz--the great fleet
-under Sir George Rooke--and going into Lagos!"
-
-"Some of them--those you see now on our beam, and the transports
-coming up."
-
-"And the others," I gasped again, overcome by this joyful news, "the
-others? What of them?"
-
-"Oh! they will lie off till these go out with the fresh water casks.
-Then for England."
-
-"Never," I said to myself. "Not yet, at least," and I turned my face
-away so that Tandy should not perceive the emotion which I felt sure
-must be depicted on it.
-
-For think, only think, what this meant to England--to me!
-
-It meant that I--the only man in the seas around Spain and Portugal
-who knew of where the galleons would be, or were by now--I who alone
-could tell them, tell this great fleet, which I had but lately missed,
-of the whereabouts of those galleons--had by God's providence come
-into communication with them again; meant that the instant we were in
-Lagos bay I could go aboard one of those great warships and divulge
-all--tell them to make for Vigo, tell them that it was in their power
-to deal so fierce a blow to Spain and France as should cripple them.
-
-I could have danced and sung for very joy. I could have flung my arms
-around Tandy's sun-burned and hairy neck in ecstasy, have performed
-any act of craziness which men indulge in when a great happiness falls
-upon them; nay, would have done any deed of folly, but that I was
-restrained by the reflection of how all depended on me now, and of
-how--since I was the bearer of so great a piece of news from so great
-a man as the Earl of Marlborough--it behooved me to act with
-circumspection and decorum. Therefore I calmed myself, instead of
-indulging in any transports whatever. I recollect that I even forced
-myself to make some useless remark upon the beauty of the smiling
-morn; that I said also that I thought _La Mouche Noire_ was making as
-good seaway as the great frigates themselves, then asked coldly and
-indifferently, with the same desire for disguise, when Tandy thought
-we might all be in the bay and at anchorage.
-
-He glanced up at the sun--he had a big tortoise-shell watch in his
-pocket, but, sailor-like, never looked at it during the day, and when
-he had the sun for horologe--then leaned over the high gunwale of the
-ship and looked between his hands toward the north, and said:
-
-"The old castle of Penhas is rising rapidly to view. 'Tis now eight of
-the clock. By midday we shall have dropped anchor."
-
-"And the frigates?" I asked, with a nod toward the queen's great
-ships, which still were on our beam, in the same position to us as
-before.
-
-"About the same. Only they will go in first to make choice of their
-anchorage." Then he added: "But they will not stay long; no longer
-than to fill the casks. Perhaps a day, or till nightfall."
-
-"'Twill be long enough for me," I thought. "An hour would suffice to
-get on board one of them, ask to be taken off and sent to the
-admiral's ship to tell my tale. Long enough."
-
-And now I went below again--with what different feelings from those
-which possessed me when I went on deck, you may well suppose--and
-began hastily to bestow my necessaries, such as they were, into the
-bag I had carried behind me on my horse from Venloo to Rotterdam: a
-change of linen, some brushes, a sleeping gown and a good cloak,
-carried either around me or the bag, if warm and dry weather, my
-powder flask and a little sack of bullets for my cavalry pistols--that
-was all. Also I counted my pieces, took out my shagreen bill case and
-saw that my Lord Marlborough's money drafts were safe, as well as my
-commission to the regiment, which must now serve as a passport and
-letter of presentation, and I was ready to go ashore at any moment,
-and to transfer myself to one of the ships if they would take me with
-them after I had told my news, as my Lord had said I was to demand
-they should do. Yet, little while enough as I had been a-doing of
-these things, 'twas not so quickly finished but that there was time
-for an interruption; interruption from Mr. Carstairs, who, a moment or
-so after I had been in my cabin, tapped gently, almost furtively, it
-seemed to me, upon the door, and on my bidding him come in--I
-suspecting very well who it was--put his head through the opening he
-had made by pushing it back.
-
-"Are we in danger?" he asked, while as he spoke, I could not but
-observe that he looked very badly this morning--perhaps from the
-renewals of his drinkings. His face was all puckered and drawn, and
-whiter, it seemed to me, than before; his eyes were hideously
-bloodshot--that must, I guessed, be the drink--while the white, coarse
-hand with which he grasped the panel shook, I observed.
-
-"Danger!" I repeated coldly, as well as curtly, for, as you may be
-sure, I had come to thoroughly despise, as well as cordially to
-detest, this dissolute old man who, besides, had a black and fearful
-past behind him, if his feverish wanderings of mind were to be
-trusted. "Danger! From what?"
-
-"There are war frigates by us," he whispered. "Do you not know?"
-
-"Yes, I know. But you who have been, it seems, a sailor, should also
-know our own flag, I think."
-
-"Our own flag! Our English flag!"
-
-"Can you not see?"
-
-"They are on the other side of the ship. I cannot see aught through my
-port."
-
-"Look through mine, then," I answered, pointing to it, and he, with
-many courteous excuses for venturing to intrude--he was much changed
-now, I thought--went over to my window, and gazed at the queen's
-vessels.
-
-"True," he said. "True. They are English--our--ships. Where could they
-come from, do you suppose?"
-
-"From the Cadiz fleet. And they are going into Lagos, as we are."
-
-"And then--do you know where to, then--afterward--noble sir?"
-
-"Then they will go north."
-
-He drew a long breath at this--I guessed it to be a sigh of
-satisfaction at the thought that the English fleet should be going
-north, while the galleons, in which he had seemed to be so concerned,
-should either be going into, or gone into, Cadiz--as he supposed. Then
-he said:
-
-"Oh, sir, this is, indeed, good news. For--for--I have business at
-Cadiz--very serious business, and--if they had remained here in the
-south they might have done much harm to honest traders, might they
-not? Do you not think so?"
-
-"They may do harm elsewhere," I answered, again curtly. And my brevity
-caused him to look at me enquiringly.
-
-"What harm? What can they do?"
-
-"Oh! as for that," I said, unable to resist the temptation of repaying
-him somewhat for all the discomfort he had caused in the ship, and
-also because I so much despised him, "as for that, they might do much.
-They say there are some galleons about. Supposing they should meet
-them. 'Tis a great fleet; it could be fateful to a weaker one."
-
-"Galleons! Galleons about!" he repeated--shrieked, almost. "Nay! Nay!
-Nay! The galleons are safe in Cadiz by now."
-
-"Are they?" I said, shrugging of my shoulders.
-
-"Are they not?" And now his face was death itself.
-
-"We spoke a ship last night which did not say so," I answered. "No
-galleons have passed this way, gone in yet."
-
-I almost regretted my words, seeing, a moment later, their effect on
-him. For that effect was great--I had nigh written terrible.
-
-He staggered back from the port-hole by which he had been standing,
-gazing out at the _Pembroke_ and her consorts, his face waxy now from
-the absence of blood; his lips a bluish purple, so that I could see
-the cracks in them; his coarse white hands twitching; and his eyes
-roving round my cabin lighted on my washing commode, on which stood
-the water ewer; then he seized it and the glass, poured out from one
-to the other--his hand shook so that the neck of the vessel clinked a
-tune upon the rim of the glass--and drank, yet not without some sort
-of a murmured apology for doing so--an apology that became almost a
-whine.
-
-"Not passed this way--not gone in yet? My God! Where are they?
-And--and--with that fleet here--here--here--'twixt here and Cape St.
-Vincent! Where are they?"
-
-"Probably coming in now--on their way," I made answer. "Or very near."
-Then next said, quietly: "You seem concerned about this?"
-
-"Concerned!" he wailed. "Concerned! I have my fortune, my all--'tis
-not much, yet much to me--on board two of the galleons, and--and--ah!"
-and he clutched at his ruffled shirt front. "The English fleet is
-there--across their path! My God!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.
-
-LAGOS BAY.
-
-
-Tandy had timed our arrival in the bay with great exactness, since,
-soon after midday, both the queen's ships and ourselves had dropped
-anchor within it, the former saluting, and being saluted in return, by
-some artillery from the crazy old castle that rose above the shore.
-And now from those three frigates away went pinnaces and jolly boats,
-as well as the great long boats and launches, all in a hurry to
-fetch off the water which they needed, while also I could see very
-well that from the _Pembroke_ they were a-hoisting overboard their
-barge, into which got some of the land officers--as the sailors call
-the soldiers--and also a gentleman in black who was, I supposed, a
-chaplain.
-
-And then I considered that it was time for me to be ashore, too, since
-I knew not how long 'twould take for the ships of war to get in what
-they wanted, and to be off and away again; though Tandy told me I need
-be in no manner of hurry, since they had let down what he called their
-shore anchors, which they would not have done had they intended going
-away again in a moment, when they would have used instead their kedge,
-or pilot, anchors.
-
-However, I was so impatient that I would not be stayed, and
-consequently begged the captain to let me have one of the shore boats,
-which had come out on our arrival and were now all around us, called
-alongside; and into this I jumped the instant it touched our ship. My
-few goods I left on board, to be brought on land when the captain
-himself came, which he intended to do later; nor did I make my
-farewells to him, since I felt pretty sure we should meet again
-shortly, while it was by no means certain that the admiral would take
-me with him, after I had delivered my news; but, instead, might order
-me to return at once to the earl with some reply message. Yet I hoped
-this would not be so, especially since his Lordship had bidden me see
-the thing out and then bring him, as fast as I could make my way back
-to the Netherlands, my account of what had been done.
-
-As for that miserable old creature, Carstairs, I clean forgot all
-about him; nor even if I had remembered his existence, should I have
-troubled to pay him any adieux, for in truth, I never supposed that I
-should see him again in this world, and for certain, I had no desire
-to do so; yet as luck would have it--but there is no need to
-anticipate.
-
-I jumped into the shore boat, I say, as soon as it came alongside _La
-Mouche Noire_, and was quickly rowed into the port, observing as I
-went that there was a considerable amount of craft moored in the bay,
-many of which had doubtless run in there during the storms of a night
-or two ago, while, also, there were some sheltering in it which would
-possibly have been lying in other harbors now--and those, Spanish
-ones--had it not been for the war and the consequent danger of attack
-from the English and Dutch navies in any other waters than those of
-Portugal, she being, as I have said, neutral at present, though
-leaning to our--the allies'--side. To wit, there were at this moment
-some German ships, also a Dane or two, a Dutchman and a Swedish bark
-here.
-
-And now I stepped ashore on Portuguese ground, and found myself
-torn hither and thither by the most ragged and disorderly crowd of
-beggars one could imagine, some of them endeavouring to drag me off to
-a dirty inn at the waterside, in front of which there sat two priests
-a-drinking with some scaramouches, whom I took to be Algarvian
-soldiers, while others around me had, I did believe, serious
-intentions on my pockets had I not kept my hands tight in them.
-Also--which hearted me up to see--there were many of our English
-sailors about, dressed in their red kersey breeches with white tin
-buttons, and their grey jackets and Welsh kersey waistcoats, all of
-whom were bawling and halloaing to one another--making the confusion
-and noise worse confounded--and using fierce oaths in the greatest
-good humour. And then, while I stood there wondering how I should find
-those whom I sought for, I heard a voice behind me saying in cheery
-tones in my own tongue:
-
-"Faith, Tom, 'tis an Englishman, I tell you. No doubt about that. Look
-to his rig; observe also he can scarce speak a word more of the
-language of the country he is in than we can ourselves. Does not that
-proclaim him one of us? Except our beloved friends, the French, who
-are as ignorant of other tongues as we are, we are the worst. Let's
-board him--we are all in the same boat."
-
-Now, knowing very well that these remarks could hardly be applied to
-any one but me, I turned round and found close to my elbow a fat,
-jolly-looking gentleman, all clad in black, and with a black scarf
-slung across him, and wearing a tie-wig, which had not been powdered
-for many a day--a gentleman with an extremely red face, much pitted
-with the small-pox. And by his side there stood four or five other
-gentlemen, who, 'twas easy to see at a glance, were of my own
-trade--their gold laced scarlet coats, the aiguillettes of one, the
-cockades in all their hats, showed that.
-
-"Sir," said the one who had spoken, taking off his own black hat,
-which, like his wig, would have been the better for some attention,
-and bowing low. "I fear you overheard me. Yet I meant no offense. And,
-since I am very sure that you are of our country, there should be
-none. Sir, I am, if you will allow me to present myself, Mr. Beauvoir,
-chaplain of her Majesty's ship, _Pembroke_. These are my friends,
-officers serving under his Grace of Ormond, and of my Lord Shannon's
-grenadiers and Colonel Pierce's regiment"; whereon he again took off
-his hat to me, in which polite salutation he was followed by the
-others, while I returned the courtesy.
-
-And now I knew that I had found what I wanted--knew that the road was
-open to me to reach the admiral, to tell my tale. I had found those
-who could bring me into communication with the fleet; be very sure I
-should not lose sight of them now. But first I had to name myself,
-wherefore I said:
-
-"Gentlemen, I am truly charmed to see you. Let me in turn present
-myself. My name is Mervyn Crespin, lieutenant in the Cuirassiers, or
-Fourth Horse, and it is by God's special grace that I have been so
-fortunate as to encounter you. For," and here I glanced round at the
-filthy crowd which environed us, and lowered my voice a little, "I am
-here on a special mission to your commander from my Lord Marlborough.
-Yet I thought I had failed when I heard you were off and away from
-Cadiz."
-
-Now, when I mentioned the position which I held in the army all looked
-with increased interest at me, and again took off their hats, while
-when I went on to speak of my mission from the Earl of Marlborough
-there came almost a dazed look into some of their faces, as though
-'twas impossible for them to understand what the Captain-General of
-the Netherlands could have to say with the fleet that had been sent
-forth from England to Cadiz.
-
-"A message to our commander," Mr. Beauvoir said. "A message to our
-commander. By the Lord Harry, I am afraid 'tis even now a bootless
-quest, though. Our commander with all his fleet is on his way back to
-England--and pretty well dashed, too, through being obliged to draw
-off from Cadiz, I can tell you. I fear you will not see him this side
-of Spithead, even if you go with us, who are about to follow him."
-
-That I was also "pretty well dashed" at this news needs no telling,
-since my feelings may be well enough conceived; yet I plucked up heart
-to say:
-
-"I do think, if your captain but hears the news I bring, that he will
-endeavour to catch the fleet and turn it from its homeward course--ay,
-even though he sets sail again to-night without so much as a drop of
-fresh water in his casks. 'Tis great news--news that may do much to
-cripple France."
-
-"Is it private, sir?" the chaplain asked. "For the ears of the
-admirals alone?"
-
-"Nay," said I; "by no means private from English ears; yet," I
-continued, with still another glance around, "not to be spoken openly.
-Is there no room we can adjourn to?"
-
-"We have been trying ourselves for half an hour to find an inn," said
-one of the grenadiers, with a laugh, "which swarms not with vermin of
-all sorts. Yet, come, let us endeavour again. Even though there is
-naught for gentlemen to eat or drink, we may, at least, be alone and
-hear this news. Come, let us seek for some spot," and he elbowed his
-way through the waterside crowd which still stood gaping round us, and
-which, even when we all moved away, hung on our heels, staring at us
-as though we were some strange beings from another world. Also,
-perhaps, they thought to filch some scrap of lace or galloon from off
-our clothes.
-
-"Away, vagabonds! What in heaven's name is Portuguese for 'away,
-vagabonds'?" muttered Mr. Beauvoir, making signs to the beggarly
-brood, who--perhaps because often our ships put in here for water, and
-they were accustomed to seeing the English--held out their dirty,
-claw-like hands, and shrieked: "Moaney! Moaney! Englase moaney!"
-"Away, I say, and leave us in peace!"
-
-And gradually, seeing there was nothing more to be gotten after one or
-two of us had flung them a coin or so, they left us to our devices, so
-that we were able to stroll along the few miserable streets which the
-town possessed; able to observe, also, that there was no decent inn
-into which a person, who valued his future comfort and freedom from a
-month or so of itching, could put his foot in safety.
-
-But now we reached a little open spot, or _plaza_, a place which had a
-melancholy, deserted look--there being several empty houses in this
-gloomy square--while, on another, we saw the arms of France stuck up,
-a shield with a blazing sun upon it,--the emblem of Louis!--and the
-lilies on it, also--and guessed it must be the consul's place
-of business. And here it seemed to me as if this was as
-fitting an opportunity as I should find for making the necessary
-disclosures--disclosures which, when these gentlemen had heard them,
-might induce them to hurry back to the _Pembroke_, bring me into
-communication with the captain, and lead him to put to sea, in the
-hopes of picking up the remainder, and chief part, of the English
-fleet, which was but twenty-four hours ahead of them.
-
-"Gentlemen," I said, "here is a quiet spot"--as indeed it was, seeing
-that there was nothing alive in this mournful _plaza_ but a few
-scraggy fowls pecking among the stones, and a lean dog or two sleeping
-in the sun. "Let me tell you my news."
-
-Whereupon all of them halted and stood round me, listening eagerly
-while I unfolded my story and gave them the intelligence that the
-galleons had gone into Vigo, escorted, as the earl had said while we
-rode toward Rotterdam, by a large French fleet.
-
-"'Fore George, Harry," said Mr. Beauvoir, turning toward the elder of
-the officers with him, a captain in Pierce's regiment, "but this is
-mighty fine news. Only--can it be true? I mean," he went on with a
-pleasant bow to me, "can it be possible that the Earl of Marlborough
-is not mistaken? For, if 'tis true and we can only communicate with
-Sir George Rooke and get him back again, 'twill be a fine thing; wipe
-out the scandal and hubbub that will arise over our retreat from
-Cadiz, go far to save Parliament enquiries and the Lord knows what--to
-say nothing of court martials. Humph?"
-
-"Why should the earl be mistaken in this?" asked one of the others. "At
-least he was right in judging they would not go into Cadiz."
-
-"We must take you at once to Captain Hardy, of our ship," said the
-chaplain. "'Tis for him to decide when he has heard your story. Come,
-let us get back to the pinnace--no time must be wasted."
-
-"With the very greatest will in the world," said I. "'Tis for that I
-have travelled from Holland, and, pray God, I have not come too late.
-Success means much for me."
-
-Then we turned to go, while the officers attacked me on all sides for
-an account of the siege of Kaiserswerth, of which they had not yet
-heard full accounts, and we were just leaving the square when there
-appeared at the door of the French consul's house a man who, no sooner
-did he observe us and our English appearance--which betrays us all
-over Europe, I have noticed, though I know not why--and also the
-brilliancy of the officers' dress, than he set to work bowing and
-grimacing like a monkey; also he began calling out salutations to us
-in French, and asking us how the English did now in the wars? and
-saying that, for himself, he very much regretted that France and
-England had got flying at one another's throats once more, since if
-they were not fools and would only keep united, as they had been in
-the days of him whom he called _le grand roi Charles Deux_, they might
-rule the world between them; which was true enough as regarded their
-united powers (if not the greatness of that late king of ours), as
-many other people more sensible than he have thought.
-
-"'Tis a merry heart," said Mr. Beauvoir, smiling on the fantastic
-creature as he gibbered and jumped about on his doorstep, while the
-others looked contemptuously at him, for we soldiers had but a poor
-opinion of the French, though always pleased to fight them; "a joyous
-blade! Let us return his civility"; whereupon he took off his hat,
-which courtesy we all imitated, and wished him "Good day" politely in
-his own language.
-
-"Ha! you speak French, monsieur," the other said at this; "also you
-have the _bonne mine_. English gentlemens is always gentlemens. Ha! I
-ver' please see you."--he was himself now speaking half English and
-half French. "_Je vous salue_. Lagos ver' _triste_. I always glad see
-gentlemens. _Veuillez un verre de vin? C'est Français, vrai Français!_
-Ver' goot."
-
-"'Tis tempting," said the chaplain of the Pembroke, his face appearing
-to get more red than before at the invitation. "Well, we can do no
-harm in having a crack with him. Only--silence, remember," and he
-glanced at the officers. "Not a word of our doings--lately, now, or to
-come."
-
-"Never fear," said the eldest. "We can play a better game than that
-would be," whereon the chaplain, after bowing gracefully to our
-would-be host, said in very fair French that, if he desired it, we
-would all drink a glass of wine with him--only he feared we were too
-many.
-
-"Not a jot, not a jot," this strange creature cried, beckoning all of
-us into the house and forthwith leading us into a whitewashed room, in
-the middle of which was a table with, upon it, a great outre of wine,
-bound and supported by copper bands and flanked with a number of
-glasses, so that one might have thought he was ever offering
-entertainment to others. Then, with great dexterity, he filled the
-requisite number of glasses, and, after making us each touch his with
-ours, drank a toast.
-
-"_A la fin de la guerre_," he said, after screaming, first,
-"_Attention, messieurs_," and rapping on the table with his glass to
-claim that attention, "_ŕ l'amitié incassable de la France et de
-l'Angleterre. Vivent, vivent, vivent la France et l'Angleterre_," and
-down his throat went all the wine.
-
-"A noble toast," said Mr. Beauvoir, with a gravity which--I know not
-why!--I did not think, somehow, was his natural attribute, "a noble
-toast. None--be he French or English--could refuse to pledge that,"
-and, with a look at the others, away went his liquor, too, while my
-brother officers, with a queer look upon their faces, which seemed to
-express the thought that they scarce knew whether they ought to be
-carousing in this manner with the representative of an enemy,
-swallowed theirs.
-
-"Ha! goot, ver' goot," our friend went on, "we will have some more."
-And in a twinkling he had replenished the glasses and got his own up
-to, or very near to, his lips. And catching a glance of Mr. Beauvoir's
-grey eye as he did this, I felt very sure that the reverend gentleman
-knew as well as I did, or suspected as well as I did, that these were
-by no means the first potations our friend had been indulging in this
-morning.
-
-"Another toast," he cried now, "_sacré nom d'un chien!_ we will drink
-more toasts. _A la santé_"--then paused, and muttered: "No, no. I
-cannot propose that. No. _Ce n'est pas juste_."
-
-"What is not just, monsieur?" asked Mr. Beauvoir, pausing with his own
-uplifted glass.
-
-"Why, _figurez-vous_, I was going to commit an _impolitesse_--what you
-call a _rudesse_--rudeness--in your English tongue. To propose the
-continued prosperity of France--no! _vraiment il ne faut pas ça_.
-Because you are my guests--I love the English gentlemens always--and
-it is so certain--so very certain."
-
-"The continued success of France is very certain, monsieur?" said one
-of the grenadiers, looking darkly at him. "You say that?"
-
-"_Sans doute_. It cannot be otherwise. On sea and land we must triumph
-now--and then--then we shall have _la paix incassable_. Oh! yes, now
-that Chateaurenault is on the seas, we must perforce win there--win
-every--everything. And for the land, why----"
-
-"Chateaurenault is on the seas!" exclaimed the chaplain, looking very
-grave. "And how long has that been, monsieur?"
-
-"Oh, some time, some time." Then he put his finger to his nose and
-said, looking extremely cunning in his half drunkenness. "And soon now
-he will be free to scour them, turn his attention to you and the
-Dutch--curse the Dutch always, they are _cochons!_--soon, ver' soon.
-Just as soon as the galleons are unloaded at Vigo--when we need
-protect them no more."
-
-Swift as lightning all our eyes met as the good-natured sot said this
-in his boastfulness; then Mr. Beauvoir, speaking calmly again, said:
-
-"So he is protecting them at Vigo, eh? 'Tis not often they unload
-there."
-
-"_Ah, non, non_. Not ver' often. But, you see, you had closed Cadiz
-against them, so, _naturellement_, they must go in somewhere."
-
-"Naturally. No--not another drop of wine, I thank you."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.
-
-ON BOARD H. M. S. PEMBROKE.
-
-
-A good snoring breeze was ripping us along parallel with the
-Portuguese coast a fortnight later, every rag of canvas being
-stretched aloft--foretop gallant royals, mizzentop gallant royals and
-royal staysails. For we had found the main body of the fleet at last,
-after eleven days' search for them, and we were on the road to Vigo.
-
-Only, should we be too late when we got there? That was the question!
-
-Let me take up my tale where I left off. Time enough to record our
-hopes and fears when that is told.
-
-Our French friend, whose boastfulness had increased with every drop of
-Montrâchet he swallowed (and 'twas real good wine, vastly different,
-the chaplain, who boasted himself a fancier, said afterward, from the
-filthy concoctions to be obtained in that part of Portugal), had been
-unable to hold his tongue, having got upon the subject of the
-greatness of his beloved France, and the consequence was that every
-word he let fall served but to corroborate the Earl of Marlborough's
-information and my statement. Nay! by the time he allowed us to quit
-his house, which was not for half an hour after he had first divulged
-the neighborhood of Chateaurenault and the galleons, and during which
-period he drank even more fast and furious than before, he had given
-us still further information. For, indeed, it seemed that once this
-poor fool's tongue was unloosed, there were no bounds to his vaunts
-and glorifications, and had it not been that he was our host and,
-also, that every word he said was of the greatest value to us, I do,
-indeed, believe that one or other of the officers would have twisted
-his neck for him, so exasperating was his bragging.
-
-"_Pauvre Angleterre! Pauvre Angleterre!_" he called out, after we had
-refused to drink any more, though he himself still kept on
-unceasingly; "Poor England. Ah, mon Dieu, what shall become of her!
-Beaten at Cadiz----"
-
-"Retired from Cadiz, if you please, monsieur," one of Pierce's
-officers said sternly, "because the Dutch ships had runout of
-provisions, and because, also, the admiral and his Grace could not
-hope to win Spain to the cause of Austria by bombarding their towns
-and invading their country. Remember that, sir, if you please."
-
-"_Oh, la la! C'est la męme chose_. It matters not." Then the talkative
-idiot went on: "I hope only that the fleet is safe in England by now.
-Ver' safe, because otherwise----"
-
-"Have no fear, sir," the officer said again, though at a sign from Mr.
-Beauvoir, he held his peace and allowed the Frenchman to proceed.
-
-"Ver' safe, because, otherwise, Chateaurenault will soon catch
-them--poof! like a mouse in grimalkin's claws. The _débarquement_ must
-be over by now--oh yes, over by now!--_l'amiral_ will be free to roam
-the seas with his great fleet. _Tiens! c'est énorme!_ There is, for
-instance, _La Sirčne, L'Espérance, La Superbe, Le Bourbon,
-L'Enflame_--all terrible vessels. Also many more. _Le Solide, Le Fort,
-Le Prompte--Fichtre!_ I cannot recall their names--they are fifteen in
-all. What can you do against that?"
-
-"What did we do at La Hogue?" asked Mr. Beauvoir quietly.
-
-"Ha! La Hogue! _Voilŕ--faute de bassesse--faute de_----"
-
-"Sir," said the chaplain, interrupting, "let us discourse no more on
-this subject. If we do we shall but get to quarrelling---and you have
-been polite and hospitable. We would not desire that to happen. Sir,
-we are obliged to you," and he held out his hand.
-
-The strange creature took it--he took all our hands and shook them; he
-even seemed about to weep a little at our departure, and muttered that
-Lagos was "ver' triste." He loved to see any one, even though a
-misguided enemy.
-
-"And," said Mr. Beauvoir, as we made our way down to the quay where
-the pinnace was to take them off, "to chatter to them as well as see
-them. Forgive him, Lord, he is a madman! Yet, I think," turning to me,
-"you should be satisfied. He corroborates you, and he has told us
-something worth knowing. Fifteen ships of war in all, eh?" whereon he
-fell a-musing. "A great fleet, in truth; yet ours is larger and we are
-English. That counts."
-
-It took us a very little while to fetch off to the _Pembroke_, and on
-arriving on board, Mr. Beauvoir instantly sent to know if he could see
-the captain, since he brought great news from the shore. The sentry
-would not, however, by any means undertake to deliver the message,
-since Captain Hardy was now abed, he having been on the poop all night
-while the ships were coming in; whereupon Mr. Beauvoir, saying that
-the business we were now on took precedence of sleep and rest, pushed
-his way into the great cabin and instantly knocked at the door outside
-the captain's berth. Also, he called to him to say that he had news of
-the galleons and the French admiral's fleet, and that there waited by
-his side an officer of the land forces charged with a message to him
-from the Earl of Marlborough.
-
-"What!" called out the captain as we heard him slip his door open,
-after hearing also a bound as he leaped from his bunk to the floor.
-"What!" and a minute after he stood before us, a fine, brave-seeming
-gentleman, without his coat or vest on.
-
-"What! News of the galleons! Are you the messenger, sir?" looking at
-me and returning my salute. "Quick! Your news; in as few words as may
-be."
-
-And in a few words I told him all while he stood there before me, the
-chaplain supplementing of my remarks in equally few words by a
-description of what the drunken French consul had maundered on about
-in his boastings.
-
-And the actions of this captain showed me at once that I was before
-one of those sea commanders who, by their daring and decision, had
-done so much to make our power on the ocean feared, notwithstanding
-any checks such as that of Cadiz, which they might now and again have
-to submit to.
-
-"Sentry!" he called out, running into his cabin to strike upon a gong
-by his bedside at the same time. "Sentry!" And then, when the man
-appeared, went on: "Send the yeoman of the signals to me at once. Away
-with you."
-
-"Make signal," he said to the lad, who soon came tumbling down the
-companion ladder, his glass under his arm, "to Captain Wishart in the
-_Eagle_, and all the captains in the squadron, to repair here for
-consultation without loss of time. Up! and waste no moment."
-
-And sure enough--for in Her Majesty's navy they are as prompt as we of
-the sister service, if not prompter, since to a sailor, minutes are
-sometimes of as much importance as an hour on land--ere a quarter of
-an hour had passed the waters of the harbour were dotted with the
-barges of the other captains making for our ship, and, five minutes
-after that, all were assembled in the great cabin listening to my
-tale. And all were at once agreed on what must be a-doing.
-
-"'Tis of vast importance," said Captain Wishart, who I think was the
-senior, since he presided, "that the admiral be acquainted with this.
-'Tis for him to decide what shall be done when he has heard the
-mission on which this officer has come, and heard also the words of
-the Frenchman. Now, who has the fastest sailer? You, I think, Hardy."
-
-"True enough," replied that captain, "as to speed, I can sail two feet
-to every one of all the rest. Yet the head of the ship is somewhat
-loose, which may endanger the masts; she is also leaky, and our food
-is short. Nevertheless, since the intelligence has been by good luck
-brought to my hands I am loth indeed to resign the honor of finding
-Sir George."
-
-"Nor shall you resign it," exclaimed the other captains. "The chance
-is yours. Succeed in it and you will get your flag. Hardy, you must
-take it."
-
-Enough that I say he took it--had he not done so he would not have
-been worth one of his ship's biscuits, the cases of which were, as it
-happened, now running extremely low. Took it, too, in spite of the
-murmurings of some of his men, who said that they had signed for the
-expedition to Cadiz, and for that alone, and, therefore, it was
-plainly his duty to return to England. But Captain Hardy had a short
-way with such as these--a way well enough known to sailors!--while to
-others, with whom he thought it worth while to explain at all, he
-pointed out that there must be in the galleons, if they could only get
-alongside of them, sufficient prize money for all.
-
-Off we went, therefore, to find the admiral and the main body of the
-fleet, while, as luck would have it, there blew from off the
-Portuguese coast a soft, brisk wind which took us along on the course
-we desired, namely, that in which we supposed and hoped that Sir
-George Rooke and the Dutch fleet had gone. All the same, it was no
-very pleasant cruise; the food ran lower and lower as day after day
-passed and we could not see so much as a topsail anywhere, until at
-last we came to two biscuits a day, officers and men. Then, to make
-matters worse, the weather came on rough and boisterous, so that the
-captain said for sure the fleet would separate; that though we might
-find one or two of the number 'twas scarce likely we should find more,
-and that even those which we might by chance come across would
-possibly not have the _Royal Sovereign_, which was Rooke's ship,
-amongst them.
-
-Briefly, however, we did find them after eleven days, and when we had
-begun to give up all hope, and while another terrible fear had taken
-possession of our minds--the fear that even should we come together
-and proceed to Vigo, we might find the galleons unloaded and their
-treasure removed inland. However, as I have now to tell--and, indeed,
-as you have read of late in the published accounts of our attack upon
-those galleons--that was not to be.
-
-We found, therefore--to hurry on--the two fleets very close to one
-another, and no sooner had Sir George communicated the news to the
-Dutch admiral, Vandergoes, and to the Duke of Ormond, than it was
-determined to at once proceed on the way to Vigo to see if the
-galleons were there, and if--above all things--they still had their
-goods in them; for, though 'twas like enough that we should destroy
-them if we could, and crush Chateaurenault as well, 'twould be but
-half a victory if we could not wrench away the spoils from the enemy
-and profit by it ourselves.
-
-And now off went two frigates to scout in the neighbourhood of the Bay
-of Vigo and see how much truth there was in the information my Lord
-Marlborough had sent; and on the night of October 9, to which we had
-come by this time, they returned; returned with the joyful
-intelligence that the treasure ships were drawn up as far as possible
-in a narrow strait in the harbour; that outside and guarding them,
-were some twenty French and Spanish ships of war, and that across the
-harbour was stretched a huge boom of masts and spars, protected on
-either side by great batteries of cannon.
-
-Also they brought another piece of good news: The galleons, they
-thought, were still _unloaded_.
-
-And still another piece of intelligence, equally welcome: The frigates
-had sighted Sir Cloudesley Shovel's fleet in the neighbourhood of Cape
-Finisterre, had communicated with him, and brought back word that as
-we drew near to Vigo he would combine with us.
-
-That night we kept high revels on board all our ships--those only
-whose duty it was to take the watches being prevented from joining in
-the delirium of joy. Casks were broached and healths were drunk,
-suppers eaten joyously--we of the _Pembroke_ having now all we could
-desire given us from our consorts--songs sung. And, if there was one
-who more than others was the hero of the evening, it was the simple
-gentleman who had brought the first intimation of the whereabouts of
-those whom we now meant to "burn, plunder, and destroy," as the old
-naval motto runs; the man who now pens these lines--myself.
-
-Perhaps 'twas no very good preparation for a great fight that, on the
-night before the day when we hoped to be gripping French and Spaniards
-by the throat, blowing up, burning or sinking their ships, and seizing
-their treasures, we should have been wassailing and carousing deeply
-all through that night. Yet, remember, we were sailors and soldiers;
-we were bent on an errand of destruction against the tyrant who had
-crushed and frighted all Europe for now nigh sixty years; the splendid
-despot who, but a few months ago, had acknowledged as King of England
-one whom every Englishman had sworn deeply should never sit on
-England's throne, nor inherit the crown of his ancestors--if, indeed,
-the Stuarts were the ancestors of the youth whom the late James called
-his son.
-
-For this remembrance we may be forgiven--forgiven for hating Louis and
-all his brood--hating him, the tyrant of Versailles, and the fat
-booby, his grandson, who aspired to grasp the throne of Spain by the
-help of Versailles and its master, that great, evil King of France!
-
-Through that night, I say, we drank and caroused, called toasts to our
-good queen, prayed God that we might do her credit on the morrow, and
-exalt the name of great Anna? And even the watch, coming off duty in
-turns, ran into the main cabin ere they sought their berths, seized
-cans and cannikins brimming high, and drank her health and that of our
-own dear land.
-
-'Twas a great night, yet it came to an end at last, and the autumn
-morning dawned, thick, hazy, damp--still, not so thick or hazy but
-that we could see through it the mountains over and around Vigo
-looming up, and, at their feet, the entrance to the bay.
-
-Also, we saw, away to the northwest, the fleet of Sir Cloudesley
-Shovel coming up toward us, escorted and led by our scouts.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX.
-
-THE TAKING OF THE GALLEONS.
-
-
-Looking back upon that great day--it was October 11--it seems to me
-that many of the events which happened must have been due to the mercy
-and goodness of God, so incredible were they.
-
-For see now what fell out at the very first, namely, that the haze and
-mist were so thick that we were enabled to anchor at the mouth of the
-great river and harbour without so much as even our presence being
-known, so that when the sun set and the fog lifted, the surprise of
-those snared and trapped creatures was great, and they at once began
-firing wildly upon us, without, however, doing any harm whatever. But
-the lifting of that fog showed us what we had to encounter, the work
-that was to be done.
-
-For, first, it enabled us to see that, across the river, or narrow
-strait, as indeed it was, the French admiral had laid a tremendous
-boom, made up of cables, yards and masts, topchains and casts, some
-nine feet in circumference, while the whole was kept fixed and steady
-by anchors at either side. This, too, we perceived, was constructed
-between two forts known as the Ronde and the Noot, one on the left
-bank and the other on the right, while far up the harbour, where we
-saw the galleons all a-lying tucked in comfortably under the cliffs,
-with a line of French ships of battle, and some Spanish ones, ahead of
-and guarding them, we perceived a great fort, which is known as the
-Fort of Redondella.
-
-And now the night came down upon us, and we knew that for this day
-there would be no fighting, though, since all through it the admiral
-went from ship to ship in his barge, giving orders, 'twas very certain
-that at daybreak it would begin.
-
-And so it did, as now I have to describe.
-
-For on the morrow, and when, as near six o'clock as may be, the sun
-came up swiftly over the great hills, or mountains, which abound here,
-we made our first preparations for the attack by the landing of the
-Duke of Ormond with two thousand five hundred and fifty men on the
-side of the Fort Redondella, they marching at once toward it on foot.
-
-As for myself, although a soldier, it had been decided that I should
-remain in the _Pembroke_, and this for more than one reason.
-
-"You have," said Captain Hardy to me, "no uniform with you; therefore,
-if you fall into the hands of those on shore it may go hard with you.
-Yet here you can be of service; help train a gun, if need be, issue
-orders, take part in the boarding, which must surely occur, perhaps
-take part in sacking of the galleons. There's business for you--such,
-indeed as, as a soldier, you are not very like to ever see again. My
-lad!" he went on--and in truth I was a lad to him, though I esteemed
-myself a very full-fledged man--"you are to be congratulated. You
-will have much to talk about in years to come--if you survive this
-day--which falls not often to a landsman's lot," and he ran away as
-gay as a lad himself, all grizzled with service though he was, to
-prepare for assisting in breaking the boom.
-
-So I stayed in the _Pembroke_ and, as you shall see, if you do but
-read, the doing so led to all that happened to me which I have now to
-set down, and all of which--had it not so happened--would have
-prevented this narrative from ever being penned, since it is not to
-describe only the siege of Vigo and the taking of the Spanish galleons
-that I am a-writing of this story.
-
-Therefore I proceed:
-
-Down from the hills already the smoke was rolling fast, obscuring
-the beauteous morn by now; white smoke from the cannon in the
-fort--through which there leapt every moment great spits of flame from
-the big guns' mouths!--dun-coloured smoke from the grenades carried by
-Lord Shannon and Colonel Pierce's grenadiers; black, greasy smoke
-vomited forth from the fuzees. And it came down to the water and
-poured across it in clouds, enveloping the galleons in its wreaths and
-the great French ships of battle; clinging around our own topsails and
-masts, almost obscuring each of our vessels from the other.
-
-Yet not so much, neither, but that--a breeze having sprung up after a
-calm which had enforced us to drop our anchors for a while--we,
-of the _Pembroke_, could see glide by us a great ship, with her men on
-yards and masts and in fighting tops, all cheering lustily, and some
-a-singing--a vessel that rushed forward as a tiger rushes to its prey.
-At first we thought it was the _Royal Sovereign_--that great, noble
-ship which transmits a name down from Bluff Harry's days--then knew we
-were mistaken. It was the _Torbay_, Vice-Admiral Hopson's own, in
-which he flew his flag, her sails all clapt on, her cable training at
-her side, where he had cut it, so as to lose no precious time, her
-course direct for the boom. And after her went ourselves, as hound let
-loose from leash follows hound. Captain Hardy had spoken true--'twas a
-day not to be missed!
-
-We heard a snapping, a crashing--'twas awful, too, to hear!--we heard
-roar upon roar from hundreds of lusty throats in that great ship--we
-knew the boom was gone--cut through as a woodsman's axe cuts through a
-sapling. Amidst all the enemy's fire--fire from the French ships and
-those Spanish forts on shore--we heard it. And we, too, cheered and
-shouted--sent up our queen's name to the smoke-obscured heavens above.
-Some cried the old watchword of past days, "St. George and England";
-some even danced and jumped upon the decks for glee--danced and
-jumped, even though the hail of ball was scattering us like ninepins,
-or a hundred pins!--even though some lay writhing on those decks, and
-some were lying there headless, armless, legless! What mattered? The
-enemy were there behind that boom, and it was broken. We were amongst
-them now. Let those die who must; those live who were to conquer.
-
-Between the _Bourbon_ and _L'Espérance_ the noble _Torbay_ rushed--to
-the jaws of death she went, as though to a summer cruise on friendly
-seas, her anchor cables roared through her hawse-holes--Hopson had
-anchored 'twixt those two great French ships! He was there; there was
-to be, could be, no retreat now; 'twas death or victory.
-
-At first it seemed as though it could alone be the first. The cannon
-grinned like teeth through tier upon tier of gunboats in the
-Frenchman's sides; the balls crashed into the Torbay; they did the
-same with us and Vandergoes' ship, now ranged on the other side of the
-_Bourbon_--a French fireship had clapt alongside of her, and set her
-rigging alight; her foretopmast went by the board; her sails were all
-aflame; her foreyard burnt like a dry log; her larboard shrouds burnt
-at the dead-eyes.
-
-Yet still she fought and fought--vomited forth her own flames and
-destruction; still from the throats of those left alive came shouts of
-savage exultation, for, all afire as she was, we saw that she was
-winning. And not only she, but all of us. We had sunk one Frenchman
-ourselves. Vandergoes had mastered the _Bourbon_--she was done for!
-The _Association_ had silenced a battery ashore. And now a greater
-thing than all happened--Chateaurenault saw that he was beaten, set
-his flagship, _Le Fort_, on fire, and fled to the shore, calling on
-all his captains to follow him.
-
-Yet still one awful dread remained! The _Torbay_ was burning
-fiercely, charred masts and yards were falling to the deck--itself
-aflame--blocks burning like tarred wood crashed down, too. What if her
-powder magazine exploded! If it did, all in her neighbourhood would be
-destroyed, hurled to atoms, as she herself would be.
-
-Almost it seemed as if that had happened now. There came a hideous
-roar, a belch of black, suffocating smoke; it set all sneezing and
-coughing as though a sulphur mine were afire. Yet that explosion, that
-great cloud of filthy blackness, those masses of burnt and charred
-wood hurled up into the air and falling with a crash on every deck
-around, amidst shrieks and howls and curses terrible to hear, though
-drowned somewhat by the booming of the cannon all about, was to be the
-salvation of the _Torbay_, of ourselves, and of the Dutchmen.
-
-For it was the fireship itself that had exploded. It was, in truth, a
-merchantman laden with snuff, which had been hastily fitted up as one
-of those craft. And in so doing the density of the fumes which it
-emitted, and its falling _débris_ when it was burst asunder, helped to
-put out the flames that raged in the _Torbay_ and in us.
-
-The firing began to cease even as this happened; the enemy began to
-recognise that 'twas useless. They would have been blind not to have
-so recognised. On shore 'twas easy _Association_; on the water the
-_Bourbon_ was ours. The lilies were hauled down, in their place
-floated the banner of England; the fireship had vanished into the
-elements, the great boom lay in pieces on the water like some long,
-severed snake. Yet might one have wept to gaze upon the _Torbay_--the
-queen and victress of this fight--and upon ourselves.
-
-There she lay--Hopson by now in the _Monmouth_, to which he had been
-forced to transfer his flag, so sad a ruin was she--listing over to
-her wounded starboard side, into which the water poured in volumes, it
-becoming tinged as it mixed with the blood in her scuppers; her yards
-and masts were charred sticks; black bits of sooty, greasy matter,
-which had once been her white sails, floated down slowly to the waves
-and fell upon and dissolved into them. Also her shrouds were but burnt
-pieces of rope and twine now. Upon her deck there were stretched a
-hundred and twenty men, dead or dying. And with the _Pembroke_ it was
-almost as bad. We were shattered and bruised, our foremast gone, our
-own sails shot through and through, and hanging over the sides like
-winding sheets, our own decks charnel houses. Yet we had won the
-fight, the day was ours, the galleons our booty.
-
-But were they? That was the question!
-
-'Twas true, they were all as we had first seen them, though some, we
-noticed, had been run ashore, perhaps to give them a chance of
-hurriedly landing some of their cargo; but, alas! we noticed now that
-they were all aflame, were burning fiercely.
-
-And we knew well enough what this meant--meant that the French and
-Spaniards had set them on fire so that we should benefit nothing
-through their falling into our hands. And all of us saw it at the same
-time--Rooke saw it, Hopson saw it--every man on board our English
-decks who was still alive saw and understood.
-
-By God's mercy the breeze was still blowing into the strait. Some of
-us still had some sail left clinging to our bruised and battered
-yards; enough to take us farther in, enough to enable the boarding
-parties to row ashore, to reach those burning ships, to save
-something, surely!
-
-From all the ships' sides as we ran up as far as we could toward where
-they lay, came now the hoarse grating of the ropes running through the
-blocks as the boats were lowered. Into those boats leaped swarms of
-men, their cutlasses ready, their pistols in their hands, their eyes
-inflamed with the lust of plunder, wild oaths and jokes, curses--and,
-sometimes, prayers that we were not too late--upon their lips.
-
-And in our cutter I went, too--appointed to the command of her in
-place of the lieutenant who should have taken that command, but who
-now lay dead upon the _Pembroke's_ deck, a dozen balls in his body.
-
-Jostling one another--for there were scores of boats lowered by now,
-and all making their way, under either sail or the seamen's brawny
-arms, to where those burning galleons lay--we rushed through the half
-mile of water that separated us from them, all eager to board and be
-amongst the spoil. And woe, I thought, to him or them who, when we
-were there, should strive to bar our entrance! Our blood was up,
-fevered by the carnage of the earlier hours; woe to them who
-endeavoured to prevent our final triumph! Through wreckage of all
-kinds we went, spars, yards and masts, military tops floating like
-tubs, dead men face upward, living men clinging to oars and overturned
-boats and shrieking to be saved, while ever still, in front of us, the
-galleons burned and blazed--one blew up as we neared it, another,
-spouting flames from port and window and burning to the water's edge,
-sank swiftly and in a moment beneath the water.
-
-But at last we were up to them, were beneath their bows, could see
-their great figureheads and read their names--most of them so terribly
-sacred that one wondered that even Spaniards should so dare to profane
-those holy words by using them for their ships!
-
-And now some orders were issued by a grey-haired officer to those
-close by. The boarding parties were told off in boats of twos and
-threes to the different vessels flaming before our eyes. The one which
-I commanded was directed to a great vessel of three decks, having
-above her upper one a huge poop-royal, and named--heavens, what a name
-for a ship!--_La Sacra Familia_. And as we swept toward them all we
-saw that one mercy was now to be vouchsafed. There would be no further
-slaughter here; no need for more shedding of blood. The vessels were
-not defended; those who had set fire to them had undoubtedly fled.
-
-Yet up on the poop-royal of that galleon, to which we now clambered by
-aid of rope and ladder--with cutlass in mouth and pistol in belt--as
-well as by chains and steps, we saw there was still some human life
-left. We saw a tall monk standing there, gazing down curiously at us,
-his shaven crown glistening in the autumn sun. Also, it seemed as
-though he smiled a welcome to us, was glad to see us; perhaps regarded
-us as men who might save him from that burning mass.
-
-We rushed on board, and first, before all other things, except a
-salutation which I made to the monk by a touch of the finger to my
-hat, I directed those under my command to endeavour to stifle the
-fire, which seemed at present to be entirely confined to the after
-part of the ship. "For," said I to those of my own following, and also
-to those who had come in the other boats under the command of two
-bo'suns, "if this is not done there will be no getting at the goods
-whatever. Where generally is the storage made?" I asked, turning to
-one of these officers.
-
-"Faith, sir, I know not," he said, with a harsh laugh. "My account has
-been ever with the king's--and now the queen's--ships. We sailors know
-little of such things as stored treasure. Yet," and he again laughed,
-"we have our opportunity now. If we can but quench this fire, we may
-learn something."
-
-"Perhaps," said a voice behind me, musical and deep, and greatly to my
-astonishment--when I turned round and saw who its owner was, namely,
-the monk--speaking in very good English, "I may be of some service
-here. I have been a passenger in her since she loaded at Guayaquil,"
-and his eyes met mine boldly.
-
-They were large, roving eyes, too, jet-black and piercing, and looked
-out from a dark, handsome face. A face as close-shaven as the crown,
-yet with the blue tinge all over upper lip and chin and cheeks which
-showed where there grew a mass of hair beneath.
-
-"I am obliged to you, sir," I answered, touching my hat again--for his
-manner proclaimed that this was no common peasant who had become a
-monk because the life was easier than that of a hedger and ditcher;
-but, instead, a man who knew something of the world and its
-courtesies. Then, he having told me that all the plate and coin was in
-the middle of the ship, and the merchandise, such as skins and
-leather, Campeachy wood, quinquina, silks, indigo and cochineal in the
-after part, I sent off all the men to endeavour at once to extinguish
-the flames below; to cut off communication between the atmosphere and
-that part of the ship which was already in flames; to close all
-hatches and bulkhead doors; to stop up the crevices by which the air
-could pass to the burning part, and, if possible, to separate the one
-half of the vessel from the other, as well as to pour down water on
-the flames.
-
-And, half an hour later--while still I stood gazing down on the men at
-their work, and still by my side stood the monk, uttering no word, but
-regarding with interest all that was doing--one of the bo'suns called
-up to me, saying:
-
-"We have scotched it now, sir. There is no more fire left."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X.
-
-SENOR JUAN BELMONTE.
-
-
-And now I made my way below by the main hatch--for the after-companion
-was all burnt, so that there was no descent by that, I being intent on
-the men finding out--and setting to work at once on getting at and
-landing--the specie there might be in the ship; for, although the
-galleons were ours now, and 'twas a certainty that neither French nor
-Spaniards could make any attempt whatsoever to recover possession of
-them, there was another matter to be thought about, namely, that this
-one, of which I was, so to speak, in chief command, might be so badly
-injured that she might sink at any moment; and, if she did that, then
-it would be goodbye to any bars of silver and gold, pistoles or
-crusadoes which she might have stowed away in her, ready for the
-Castile mint. And with this apprehension in my mind, I decided that
-the unloading must at once begin.
-
-But as I came down the main companion it was apparent that I must make
-my way aft through the great cabin, since my men were all at work in
-the hinder part of the ship; and, consequently, I put my hand to the
-cabin door to open it, when I discovered that it was closed--shut
-fast. Yet, even as I perceived this, while still I moved the catch
-about between my fingers, wondering what I should do, and whether I
-must not go back and fetch some of the sailors up from the after part
-to burst open the door, I heard a footstep, light, yet firm, tapping
-on the cabin deck; a footstep that, I could very well perceive, was
-coming toward the closed door; and then, a moment later, I heard a
-voice on the other side say something in Spanish, of which I could not
-catch one word; yet I doubted not that a question had been asked as to
-who I was, and what I wanted.
-
-Remembering, however, that I stood here in the position of a captor,
-remembering, too, that since all these Spanish galleons had been under
-the protection of the French admiral (with also three Spanish ships of
-war, though 'tis true _they_ did not count for much), I replied in the
-French language, which, as I have before said, I had very well:
-
-"I am an officer from the English fleet, and am now in charge of this
-vessel. Open the door without delay."
-
-"Are you an English officer?" the voice now said, in my own
-tongue, to which I--thinking that the tones were soft, gracious ones
-enough--replied:
-
-"I am an English officer. Open the door at once."
-
-Then I heard the bolt shot back, and entered the great cabin.
-
-What kind of personage I had expected to find behind that door I
-scarcely now can say--though I do remember well enough that, judging
-by the gentle, musical voice which had replied to my summons, I should
-not have been over-surprised to find myself face to face with some
-Spanish woman--yet the person who appeared before me raised my
-curiosity when we now stood face to face, for, certainly, I
-had expected some one vastly different from him on whom I now
-gazed--perhaps a Spanish sailor; a woman, as I have mentioned, or some
-old don who had managed to get left behind when all the rest had fled.
-
-Yet I saw none of these.
-
-Instead, a youth, somewhat tall--I remember that his eyes were almost
-on a level with mine, and I am tall myself--also extremely handsome,
-while, to add to that handsomeness, his dress was rich, if not costly.
-But first for his appearance.
-
-Those eyes were soft, dark ones, such as, I think, our poets call
-"liquid," and they looked out at me from an oval face, dark and olive
-in complexion, over which the black hair curled in mighty becoming
-waves, though it was not all visible, since on his head he wore a
-beaver cap, looped up at one side with a steel buckle, and with, in
-it, a deep crimson feather--a hat that added extremely to his boyish
-beauty. For that he was a boy of almost tender years was certain. Upon
-his upper lip there was that soft down which is not a moustache, but
-tells only where some day a moustache will be; his colouring, too--a
-deep, rich red beneath the olive skin--proclaimed extreme
-youthfulness. But, what was even more agreeable than all, was the
-bright, buoyant smile with which he looked at me--a smile which
-flashed from those dark, soft eyes and trembled on the full, red lips,
-yet seemed strangely out of place here in this captured vessel, and
-upon the face of a prisoner--for such, indeed, he was.
-
-But now--even as we were saluting of each other, and while I noticed
-the easy grace with which this youth took off his beaver hat--I
-noticed also the handsome satin coat he wore, the embroidered,
-open-worked linen collar, and the pretty lace at his sleeves;
-perceived, also, that his breeches were lined with camlet and faced
-with white taffeta. I spoke to him, saying:
-
-"Sir, I am afraid this is but a rough visit which I pay. Yet, since I
-find you aboard this galleon, you must know what brings me here; must
-know that it and all her consorts have fallen into our power--the
-power of England and Holland."
-
-"In faith, I know it very well," the young man answered. "Heavens,
-what a cannonading you kept up! Yet--though perhaps you may deem me
-heartless if I say so!--I cannot aver that I am desperate sick at the
-knowledge that you have drubbed France and Spain this morning.
-_Carámba!_ I am not too much in love with either, though you find me a
-passenger here."
-
-"Monsieur is not then either French or Spanish?" I hazarded, while he
-unstrapped his blade from its _porte-epée_ and flung it on the cabin
-locker as though it wearied him. "Perhaps English, to wit. And of the
-West Indies? A passenger taking this ship as a means whereby to reach
-his native land?"
-
-He looked at me with those soft dark eyes--I know not even now why
-they brought up the thought of velvet to my mind--paused a moment then
-said:
-
-"Monsieur, I do protest you are a wizard, a conjuror, a geomancer. In
-truth you have hit it. I am English, though not by birth--but subject
-to England."
-
-"I should scarce have thought, indeed," I ventured to say, "that
-monsieur was of English blood."
-
-"No?" with a slight intonation. "And why not? I flatter myself that I
-have the English very well."
-
-"You have it perfectly," I replied, making a little bow, "but scarce
-the English look. Now a Spaniard--a Frenchman--I would have ventured
-to say, judging by your appearance, to----"
-
-Again that merry laugh rang out, and again that handsome youth told me
-I must be a wizard. "For," said he, "you have pinked me in the very
-spot. My mother was a Spaniard--my father a Frenchman. And we have
-lived so long in Jamaica that I speak English like an Englishman: You
-see?"
-
-Then almost before I could answer that I did see and understand, this
-handsome youth--who seemed as volatile as a butterfly!--began to sing
-softly to himself:
-
-
- "And have you heard of a Spanish lady?
- How she wooed an Englishman?
- Garments gay and rich as may be,
- Decked with jewels, had she on."
-
-
-While at the same time he picked up an instrument which I learned
-later was known as a viol d'amore, and began to produce sweet sounds
-from it.
-
-Now, this youth won so much upon me, what with his appearance--and
-already I found myself wondering what the ladies must think of
-him!--and his light, merry nature, that, had other things been
-different, I could very well have passed the whole day with him in
-this main cabin, only there was duty to be done. By now I knew that
-the men would most like have reached the bullion chests and be ready
-for getting them out; wherefore, the moment he ceased his song, I said
-as courteously as may be:
-
-"I have to leave you now, sir--there is work to be done in this ship
-by nightfall. Yet, since you say you are a British subject, we must
-take some care of you. Will you come with me to see one of the
-admirals, who will dispose of you as best may be? If you seek to reach
-England, doubtless they can put you in the way--give you a passage--or
-what do you propose doing?"
-
-For answer he shrugged his shoulders indifferently, then said:
-
-"England is my destination--yet there is no pressing hurry. I am on my
-road to seek some friends there, but I mind not if I tarry a little.
-One of these friends--oh! a dear old creature, a Saint, I think--I
-have been bent on finding for some years now. And I shall find him.
-Then--but no matter! A few more weeks in comparison with those years
-matter but little. I shall find him. Oh, yes. I have no fear."
-
-I, too, shrugged my shoulders now--for this was, after all, no answer
-to my question; then I said:
-
-"But how will you proceed? You can scarce stay here--this galleon will
-probably be sunk by the admiral directly she is unloaded. What will
-you do?"
-
-He shrugged his shoulders with a look of extreme indifference,
-muttering something in Spanish, which I thought might be a proverb;
-then said: "Indeed, sir, I do not know. But this admiral of yours,
-what will he do with me--where take me if I go with you? I thought to
-ship at one time from Cadiz to England; then, later, when I learned we
-were coming in here, I thought to travel by land to some near port and
-find a vessel for the same place. Now I know not what to do."
-
-Neither did I know what to suggest that he should do, except that
-I told him it was very certain he must see the admiral, who, without
-any doubt, I thought, would find him an opportunity of reaching
-England--would probably take him with the fleet.
-
-"And," I went on, "this should be of some service to you, in the way
-of money, at least. 'Twill be a good thing for you to be put on
-English ground at no cost to yourself. Also, you may have goods or
-specie in this ship, which can be saved for you. And then, too, you
-will be near those friends you speak of--that one, especially, who is
-a Saint--who will doubtless help and assist you."
-
-Again I saw the bright, luminous smile come upon his features, as he
-answered:
-
-"Ay! he would assist me, no doubt. Oh! yes. _Mon Dieu!_ Yes! Beyond
-all doubt. And he will be so glad to see me. We have not met for some
-time. But, sir, I thank you very much for your concern about me. Only,
-as far as money goes, I am not needy. I have bills about me now, drawn
-on the old Bank of Castile, and also on some goldsmiths of London, as
-well as some gold pieces in my pocket. While as for the goods or
-specie you speak of--why, never fear! Neither this galleon nor any
-other has a pistole's worth of aught that belongs to me on board--the
-risk was too great with the seas swarming with English ships of war.
-No, sir, beyond the box which contains my necessaries, I stand to lose
-nothing."
-
-"I rejoice to hear it," I said, "though doubtless, since you are a
-British subject, all that belonged to you would have been sacred. Yet,
-even as 'tis, 'tis better so." Then, seeing the bo'sun at the cabin
-door, pulling his long matted hair by form of salute, and, doubtless,
-wondering what kept me so long away from him and his men, I said: "Now
-I must leave you for a time. Yet it will not be long. I trust you have
-all you require to sustain you until we reach the ship I am attached
-to."
-
-But even as I spoke, and without listening much to his answer, which
-was to the effect that a good meal had been eaten that morning before
-the battle began, and that, if necessary, he knew very well where to
-lay his hands on some food, a thought struck me which I wondered had
-not occurred to me before during my interview with him. Therefore,
-turning to him, I said:
-
-"But how comes it that I find you here alone--or all alone but for the
-reverend monk whom I saw above? How is it that you and he did not
-desert the ship as the others must have done?"
-
-"Oh! as for that," he replied, still with that sweet smile of his, and
-still with that bright, careless air which he had worn all through,
-and which caused him to appear superior to any of the melancholy as
-well as uncomfortable circumstances by which he was surrounded, "as
-for that, the explanation is simple enough." Then, speaking rapidly
-now, he went on:
-
-"We saw your great ships break the boom; ha! _por Diôs_, 'twas grand,
-splendid. We saw your ships range themselves alongside the Frenchmen,
-saw them crash into them their balls, set them afire, destroy them.
-_Espléndido! Espléndido! Espléndido!_" he exclaimed, bursting into the
-Spanish in his excitement. "Poof! away went the _Bourbon_, topping
-over on her side, up went the fireship--we heard your shouts and
-cries, heard the great English seamen singing their songs. I tell you
-it was glorious. _Magnifico!_ Only--these creatures here--the
-_canailles_--these _desperdicios_--these--_Diôs!_ I know not the word
-in English--thought not so. 'Great God!' screamed Don Trebuzia de
-Vera, our captain--a miserable pig, a coward. 'Great God, they win
-again, these English dogs; curse them! they never lose, we are lost!
-lost! lost! And see,' he bellowed, 'the French admiral lands, he
-flees, deserts his ship, ha! sets it afire. Flee we, too, therefore.
-Flee! Away! To the boats, to the shore, to the mountains. Away! They
-come nearer. Away, all, or there will not be a whole throat amongst
-us.'"
-
-"We knowed that was what would happen," chuckled the bo'sun, who still
-stood at the open door, his fierce face lit up with a huge grin of
-approval. "Go on, young sir. Tell us the tale."
-
-And, scarce heeding him, the youth, who had recovered his breath, went
-on:
-
-"They obeyed him--they fled. Into the water, up the rocks, off inland
-they went. They never cast a thought to us, to Padre Jaime and myself,
-the only two passengers in the ship. Not they--they cared no jot
-whether we were blown up, or shot, or sunk, no more than they thought
-of their ingots in the hold. Their wretched lives were all in all to
-them now."
-
-"Therefore they fled and left you here!"
-
-"They fled and left us here, setting fire first to the ship, and
-caring nothing if we were burnt in it or not. Though that could scarce
-have happened, I think, since it would have been easy enough for us to
-plunge into the water and get ashore. Also the reverend father above
-bade me take heart--though I needed no such counsel, having never lost
-mine--averred that your side had won, that the next thing would be the
-arrival of your boats to secure the plunder--which has fallen out as
-he said--and that then both he and I would be safe. Which also has
-come to pass," he concluded.
-
-"The reverend father appears to be well versed in the arts of war,
-captures and so forth," I remarked, as now we made our way together to
-the waist of the ship, followed by the bo'sun. "A strange knowledge
-for one of his trade!"
-
-"_Por Diôs!_" the young fellow said, "'tis not so strange, neither, as
-you will say if ever you get him to speak about the strange places in
-which he has pursued his ministrations. Why, sir, he has assisted at
-the death of many a dying sinner of the kind we have in our parts,
-held cups of water to their burning lips, wiped the sweat of death
-from off their brows. Oh!" he said, stopping by one of the galleon's
-great quarter deck ports, in which the cowards who fled from the
-heavily armed ship had left a huge loaded brass cannon run out, which
-they had not had the spirit to fire; stopping there and laying a long,
-slim hand upon my arm--while I noticed that the nails were most
-beautifully shaped--"Oh! he has been in some strange places; seen
-strange things, the siege and plunder of Maracaibo, to wit, and many
-other places; seen blood run like water."
-
-"The siege and plunder of Maracaibo!" I found myself repeating as we
-drew near the fore-hatches, which were now open. "The siege and
-plunder of Maracaibo!" Where had I heard such words as these before,
-or words like them? Where? where? On whose lips had I last heard the
-name of Maracaibo?
-
-And, suddenly, I remembered that that wicked old ruffian, who had been
-fellow-passenger with me in _La Mouche Noire_ had mentioned that place
-to the filthy black who was his servant--or his friend.
-
-And--for what reason I know not, for there was no sequence whatsoever
-in such thoughts and recollections--I recalled his drunken and
-frenzied shouts to some man whom he called Grandmont; his questions
-about some youth nineteen years old, who was like to be by now grown
-up to be a devil like that dead Grandmont to whom he imagined he was
-speaking.
-
-Which was, if you come to think of it, a strange sort of recollection,
-or memory, to be evoked simply through my hearing again the name of
-that tropic town of Maracaibo mentioned by this handsome young man.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI.
-
-FATHER JAIME.
-
-
-Under the direction of the second bo'sun, the men who had all come
-into the ship with me had now gotten the battens off and had lifted
-the hatch hoods--for although it has taken some time to write down my
-meeting and interview with this young gentleman, it had not, in very
-fact, occupied more than twenty minutes--and I found them already
-beginning to bring up some large chests and boxes with strange marks
-upon them.
-
-Also, I found standing close by the opening the monk whom the young
-man had called Father Jaime, he being engaged in peering down into the
-hold with what seemed to me a great air of interest, which was not,
-perhaps, very strange, seeing that the treasure below was now destined
-for a far different purpose from that for which it was originally
-intended.
-
-He turned away, however, from this occupation on seeing us approach,
-and said quietly, in the rich, full voice which I had previously
-noticed, to the young man by my side:
-
-"So, Seńor Juan, you have found a friend, I see. You are fortunate.
-This way you may light on your road to England."
-
-"And you, sir, what is your destination, may I ask?" I said, for I
-knew I should soon have to decide what to do with him. The grey-haired
-officer had given me, among other hurried instructions, one to the
-effect that anything which was brought up from below was to be
-instantly sent off to Sir George Rooke's flagship; and 'twas very easy
-to see that there was none too much specie in this ship--while I knew
-not what was to be done with the merchandise. Therefore, the time was
-now near at hand for me to return and report myself, taking with me my
-findings, while, also, I should have to take with me these two whom I
-had discovered left behind on board.
-
-Father Jaime bowed graciously on my asking this question--indeed, he
-was a far more courteous and well bred man than I, perhaps in my
-ignorance, had ever supposed would have been found amongst his
-class--and replied: "I, sir, have to present myself at Lugo, where
-there is a monastery to which I am accredited." Then, with an
-agreeable smile, he continued:
-
-"I trust I shall not be detained. Already I am two years behind my
-time--as is our young friend here, Seńor Juan Belmonte, and----"
-
-"Two years!" I exclaimed.
-
-"In truth, 'tis so," my young gentleman, whose name I now learned,
-replied. "Two years. These galleons should have sailed from Hispaniola
-that length of time ago, only so many things have happened. First
-there was the getting them properly laden, then the fear of
-filibusters and buccaneers----"
-
-"That fear exists no longer, my son," the monk interrupted. "They are
-disbanded, broken up, gone, dispersed. There will be no more
-buccaneering now, the saints be praised."
-
-He said: "the saints be praised yet had he not worn the holy garb
-he did, I should have almost thought that he said it with regret.
-Indeed, were it not for his shaven crown and face, he would not have
-ill-befitted the general idea I had formed of those gentry--what with
-his stalwart form, bold, fierce eyes and sun-browned visage.
-
-"Ay, the saints be praised!" the young seńor repeated after him,
-"the saints be praised. They were the curse of the Indies--I am
-old enough to remember that. Yet, now, all are gone, as you say,
-dispersed--broken up. Pointis has done that, and death and disease.
-Still, where are they?--those who are alive--I wonder."
-
-"There are few alive now," the monk replied, "and those of no worth.
-Recall, my son, recall what we know happened in the Indies. Kidd is
-taken, Grogniet dead, Le Picard executed. Townley--a great man
-that!--I--I mean, a great villain--fell with forty wounds in his body;
-at Guayaquil nine brave--nine vagabonds--left dead; and more, many
-more."
-
-"And the villain Gramont"--and now I started; was this whom he called
-Gramont the man that old vagabond Carstairs had spoken of--as I
-supposed--as Grandmont?--"forget not the greatest of them all, holy
-father. What of him?"
-
-"He died at sea. Drowned," Father Jaime replied. Then added: "He was
-the boldest of them all."
-
-"'Twas never known for certain that he was so drowned," Belmonte said.
-
-"'Twas known for certain; is certain. I have spoken with those who saw
-his ship's boats floating near where he must have been cast away and
-lost. Fool that he was! Madman! Louis the King gave him his
-commission, made him Lieutenant du Roi. Then, because the devil's
-fever was hot in his blood, he must make one more of his accursed
-cruises, and go filibustering thus, besieging towns, plundering and
-destroying once more. The fool! to do it 'neath the King's lilies--to
-ruin himself forever, when he was rich, rich--ah, heavens! how rich he
-was! 'Tis well for him that he was drowned--disappeared forever.
-Otherwise the wheel would have been his portion. And," he added after
-a pause, "righteously so. Righteously so!"
-
-Stopping as he said those words, he saw that we were regarding him
-with interest--for, indeed, had this drowned buccaneer been a friend
-of his he could scarcely have spoken with more fervency--then added,
-impressively:
-
-"My sons, I knew that man--that Gramont; and I--I pitied him. Knowing
-his fate, and much of his life, I pity him still."
-
-Then he turned away and began telling of his beads as he strode up and
-down the deck. And I, remembering all I had overheard the man
-Carstairs say, determined that, if the chance arose, I would ask the
-reverend father if he had known this Carstairs, too; for I had
-sufficient curiosity in my composition to desire to learn something
-more about that hoary-headed old vagabond, though 'twas not at all
-likely that I should ever set eyes on him again.
-
-That chance was not now, however, since at this moment there came
-alongside the whole flotilla of boats, which had been despatched
-severally to the various galleons, they being at this time all
-collected together ere going back to the admiral, and needing only us
-to make them complete. Wherefore, giving orders to have all the chests
-and boxes which we had unearthed placed in our own boats, we stepped
-over the side, I motioning to the father and the seńor to take their
-places by me.
-
-"Your necessaries," I said, "can be fetched away later, when 'tis
-decided how your respective journeys are to be brought to an end."
-
-And now, ere I get on with what I have to tell, it is fitting that--to
-make an end of this siege of Vigo, which, indeed, reinstated later, in
-the opinion of the Parliament and their countrymen, all those who had
-failed at Cadiz--I set down what was the advantage to England of this
-taking of the galleons, though, in truth, that advantage was far more
-in the crushing blow it administered to the French sea service than in
-aught else; for it broke that service's power more than aught else had
-done since the time of La Hogue, ten years ago; and it crippled France
-so upon the waters that, though she still continued to fight us boldly
-whenever we met, she was able to do but very little harm in that way.
-
-Of the fifteen great ships of war which the French admiral,
-Chateaurenault, commanded, five were burned up, some being set alight
-by themselves ere they fled, the others by us. Four others were run
-ashore and bulged. Five more, not so badly injured, were taken home by
-our fleet, and afterward did us good service against their old
-masters, these being _Le Prompte_, _L'Assure_, _Le Firme_, _Le
-Modčre_, and _Le Triton_; while the remaining one, _Le Bourbon_, was
-captured, as I have said, by Vandergoes, and fell to the share of the
-Dutch. Then, of their frigates, we burnt two, and also a fireship
-other than the merchantman loaded with snuff. Also, we burnt and
-destroyed three Spanish men-of-war.
-
-As to the galleons, eight of them were sunk by their owners, the
-others were divided between our Dutch friends and ourselves. And this
-is what we got for our share: A few ingots of gold, several bars of
-silver and some jewels--the principal thing of worth amongst these
-being a great crown of gold set with rubies; a gold crucifix enriched
-with many stones, seven hundred pounds' weight of silver bars, many
-cases of silver ore, and some enormous cases of plate. Also, there was
-much cochineal, tobacco, logwood, cocoa, snuff and sugar, some of
-which was saved and some was sunk to the bottom. And the gold and
-silver was afterward taken to our English mint and coined into
-five-pound pieces, crowns, half-crowns and shillings, each piece
-having "Vigo" stamped beneath the queen's head, thereby to distinguish
-it. Later on, and somewhat later, too--it was when I drew my share of
-the prize money, to which I became entitled as having taken part in
-that great fight--I observed that my pieces had that word upon them.
-
-But alas! there should have been much more, only the galleons had lain
-twenty-five days within that harbour ere we got to them, and, during
-that time, they had landed much which had been sent on to Lugo, and,
-had it not been for that foolish Spanish punctilio, which would not
-allow anything to be done hastily, they would have gotten all of their
-goods and precious things ashore. Only, because they should have gone
-into Cadiz and discharged there, and had instead come to Vigo, much
-delay happened ere the order for their doing so was given. Which was
-very good for us.
-
-Our loss, considering the fierce fight both sides made of it, was not
-considerable. Hopson, his ship, because she had borne the brunt of the
-encounter, did suffer the most, she having one hundred and fifteen of
-her sailors killed on the deck or drowned, with nine wounded; the
-_Barfleur_ and the _Association_ had each but two men killed; the
-_Mary_ lost none; the _Kent_ had her bo'sun wounded, while for
-ourselves, we had many wounded, but none that I know of killed. Of
-those who went ashore to attack the Fort of Redondella under his Grace
-of Ormond, none of much note were slain, but Colonel Pierce got a bad
-wound from a cannon shot fired by one of our own men-of-war, and some
-other colonels were also wounded.
-
-'Twas through a mighty mass of wreckage and floating spars, masts
-and yards, that we passed toward the _Royal Sovereign_, which lay back
-a bit and was nearest the mouth of the strait and beyond where that
-boom had been, and as we did so I saw my young gentleman, Seńor
-Belmonte, turn somewhat pale as he observed the terrible traces which
-battles--and more particularly sea battles--always leave behind.
-Indeed, the soft red flush leapt to his cheeks, and the full scarlet
-lips themselves looked more white than red as his eyes glanced down at
-the objects that went a-floating by on the water; and, perhaps, since
-he was so young, 'twas not very strange that these sights should have
-sickened him. For there passed us dead men with half their heads blown
-off; others with a terrible grin of agony upon their faces; some with
-half their inwards dragging alongside them like cords--the waves all
-tinged a horrid reddish brown--while hats, wigs and other things
-floating by as the tide made, were but cruel sights for so young a
-man--and he, probably, no fighter--to see. And, after such a lusty
-encounter as this had been, one could not hope to witness anything
-much better.
-
-As for the monk--on whom I could not but instinctively fix my eyes now
-and again, for (although I could not have told why) the man had
-fascinated me with the knowledge which he seemed to have once
-possessed of all those hideous filibusters and sea rovers who now, he
-said, were dead and gone and driven off the ocean--he seemed to regard
-these things as calmly and impassibly as though he sat in some lady's
-boudoir. His dark eyes, 'twas true, flashed here and there and all
-around--now on a headless man, and now on the contorted features of
-another, but he paled not, nor did he express or give any sign of
-interest in aught until we ran alongside our noble _Royal Sovereign_,
-when he cast his eye approvingly over her.
-
-"A great vessel," he said, "a mighty craft! Worthy to represent her
-great country"; then grasped the life line hanging down, as I motioned
-him to ascend her gangway, and went on board as calmly as though
-accustomed to going over the sides of ships every day of his life.
-From the main shrouds there hung a flag when we stepped on board,
-which I have since learned to know denoted that a council of war was
-being held in the ship; also there were many captains' gigs and some
-admirals' barges all about her, so that 'twas plain enough to see,
-even without that flag, that a consultation was taking place on board.
-And scarce had I given my orders for the chests to be hauled in than
-the first lieutenant approached me and asked very courteously if I was
-not Lieutenant Crespin.
-
-A moment later I was being ushered into the great main cabin, leaving
-my two companions on the deck for the present--and in another instant
-was making my salutations to the grey-haired admiral, Sir George
-Rooke, who sat at the head of the table, and to his Grace, the Duke of
-Ormond--a brave, handsome soldier--who had come on board after taking
-of the Fort of Redondella.
-
-And now I pass over the many flattering things said to me by those
-great officers seated there--since we had flown straight to Vigo after
-the _Pembroke_ had picked up the fleet at sea, and had at once been
-occupied in our preparations for taking of the galleons, this was the
-first time we had met--over, also, the compliments paid me for the
-manner in which I had made my way from Holland to Cadiz and Lagos.
-Suffice it that both Sir George Rooke and the duke told me that my
-services would not be forgot, and that when I returned to my Lord
-Marlborough I should not go unaccompanied by their commendations.
-However, enough of this. And now I told my tale of the morning, and of
-the two persons I had found on board _La Sacra Familia_--told, too,
-that they were at this moment on board the Royal Sovereign, I having
-deemed it best to bring them along with me.
-
-"Let us see them," said Rooke, and straightway bade his flag
-lieutenant go bring them in.
-
-But I think that, although I had told all assembled at this board what
-kind of persons these were whom I had discovered in the ship, all the
-admirals, generals and captains were astonished at their appearance
-when they stood before them; while so handsome a show of it did my
-young Seńor Belmonte make, that, perhaps almost unknowing what he did,
-Admiral Hopson pushed a chair toward him and bade him be seated. And
-because such courtesy could not be shown to one of these visitors
-without the same being extended to the other, the monk was also
-accommodated with a chair in which he sat himself calmly, his eyes
-roving round all those officers assembled there.
-
-"You were passengers in this galleon--the--the--_Sacra Familia?_" Sir
-George said, glancing at a paper in his hand, on which I supposed the
-names of all the captured ships were written down, "and as this
-officer tells me, are anxious to proceed to your destination. Will you
-inform me of what that destination is, so that we may assist you in
-your desire?"
-
-"Mine," exclaimed Seńor Juan--and as his sweet, soft voice uttered the
-words musically, all eyes were turned on him, "is England eventually;
-yet," and he smiled that gracious smile which I had seen before, "my
-passage was but paid to Spain--and I am in Spain. Beyond being
-permitted to go ashore here with my few necessaries, I know not that I
-need demand any of your politely proffered assistance."
-
-Sir George shrugged his shoulders while he looked attentively at the
-handsome young man--who, I thought, to speak truth, received the
-civilities of his speech with somewhat too much the air of one
-accustomed to having homage and consideration paid to him--then he
-said quietly:
-
-"That, of course, shall be done at once. There can be no obstacle to
-that. We only regret that the rigours of war have caused us to
-inconvenience any ordinary passenger. You have of course your papers."
-
-"Yes, I have them here," and he produced from his breast a bundle, at
-which Sir George glanced lightly.
-
-Then he turned to Father Jaime, who preserved still the look of
-calmness which had distinguished him all through. Yet I wondered, too,
-that he should have done so, for he had been subjected to even more
-scrutiny than Belmonte had been, perhaps because of the garb he wore;
-scrutiny that, in one instance at least, would have disquieted a less
-contained man, since Admiral Hopson, I noticed, had scarcely ever
-taken his eyes off him since he had entered the cabin, or, when he had
-taken them off, had instantly refixed them so upon his countenance
-that 'twas very palpable to me that the man puzzled him. But what need
-to describe that look which all the world has often seen on the face
-of one who is endeavouring to recall to himself where, or whether, he
-has ever seen another before.
-
-"And you, sir?" the admiral asked.
-
-"My destination," the monk replied, his voice firm, full and sonorous
-as before, "is the Abbey of Lugo; and since 'tis far nearer here than
-Cadiz, I can scarce regret finding myself at Vigo, instead of at the
-latter place."
-
-And, even as he spoke, I saw Hopson give a slight start and look even
-more intently at him than before.
-
-Then he bent forward toward Father Jaime, and said quietly: "Reverend
-sir, is it possible that we have ever met before? In the West Indies,
-to wit?"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII.
-
-WHAT DID THE ADMIRAL DISCOVER?
-
-
-Not a month had elapsed ere I stood alone on the beach of Viana, which
-is in the province of Entre-Douro-é-Minho, in Portugal, and watched,
-with somewhat sad thoughts in my mind, the white foresail and mainsail
-of the _Pembroke's_ jolly boat rising and falling on the waters as,
-gradually, it made its way out to sea to where, a league off, there
-lay the English fleet. The English fleet, and bound for England!
-
-Vigo was freed of its enemies and captors; over night, at dark, the
-whole of the British forces had cleared out of the bay, and, this
-morning, Juan Belmonte and myself had been put ashore at this
-miserable Portuguese town, or rather village, lying some twenty miles
-south of the Spanish frontier.
-
-Briefly, this was the reason why I found myself standing alone upon
-this beach watching that fast disappearing boat, while, walking up to
-the town, went Seńor Juan to seek for lodgings for us for the night.
-
-After that council was concluded on board the _Royal Sovereign_--and
-from which Father Jaime, Belmonte and myself had retired after our
-interview with the admirals--the conclusion had been arrived at that,
-the work being done here--namely, the French fleet in our power and
-the Spanish galleons destroyed--it would be impolitic as well as
-unnecessary for the English to remain any longer in the place. This
-decision was, however, come to totally against the desire of the Duke
-of Ormond, who himself was anxious to take possession of the town of
-Vigo, to lie there during the winter months, and, in the spring, to
-open again the campaign against France in that portion of Spain.
-Unfortunately, however, for this idea--which was in fact a mighty good
-one, and, if carried out, might have gone far toward crippling France
-even more than she was eventually crippled--it was impossible. There
-were no provisions whereby his army could be sustained for the winter,
-nor had Rooke a sufficiency in his ships to provide him with, and
-neither would the admiral consent to leave behind a portion of his
-fleet with which--should it come to that--the duke could escape in
-case of necessity.
-
-"For," said he to Ormond, as I learnt, "you have seen, my Lord Duke,
-the disaster which has followed on our enemies trusting themselves
-within this narrow and landlocked bay. Would your Grace, therefore,
-think it wise to follow their bad example and give them an opportunity
-which, doubt not, they would take as soon as possible, of retaliating
-upon us?"
-
-And to this Ormond could but shrug his shoulders, being able to find
-no answer to such remark. Therefore, at last--for all was not decided
-on the instant, but only after many more councils and much further
-argument--it was resolved that the fleet should remain no longer, nor,
-of course, the land forces neither.
-
-But while all these determinations were being come to, I had had more
-than one interview with Rooke and Ormond (both of whom had entertained
-and made much of, nor ceased ever their commendations of, me), since
-it was very necessary that a decision should be come to as to what was
-to be my future course. For my work was done, my connection with this
-fleet over; I had no more business there. It was time I got back to my
-own regiment. Only how to get there--that was the question!
-
-"You will scarce find at any port, Spanish or Portuguese," said the
-admiral to me, "a vessel putting to sea now; the risk is too great.
-For, consider, we are all about, and none know what may be our next
-move--this one has frightened all this part of the world. Then that
-old dog, Benbow, lieth in wait farther up. While to make the seas
-still more dangerous, the French ships of war and the privateers are
-everywhere. In truth, all traffic on the water is at an end for a
-time."
-
-"Tis not so on land, though, sir," I ventured to say, "with a good
-horse I would undertake----"
-
-"What!" exclaimed Ormond, with a laugh, "not surely to make your way
-to Flanders by land! You would scarce try that."
-
-"Ay! but I would, though, my Lord Duke," I said, laughing, too, at the
-look of amazement on his face. "In very truth, I would. I have thought
-it all over."
-
-"'Tis impossible! You would never arrive."
-
-"Your Grace, I think I should. Permit me to explain. We are here in
-Spain----"
-
-"Ay," said Rooke, interposing, "and so we are. But, Mr. Crespin, you
-would never get ashore, or, getting there, would never escape out of
-Vigo. Remember, the town itself is not in our hands, and the moment we
-were gone you would be set upon, or, even though you should be
-unmolested while we remain here, you would be followed from Vigo
-and----"
-
-"Sir," I interrupted in my excitement, "this is my plan: There
-is a seaport hard by here, called Viana, and 'tis in Portuguese
-territory--therefore neutral--yet inclining more to us than to
-France."
-
-"Aye," said Rooke, "and will come over to us ere long. The king leans
-to our side the most, because we are strongest on the seas--this
-taking of the galleons will decide him."
-
-"Meanwhile," I went on, "'tis neutral. Now, from there I can make my
-way to Spain----"
-
-"There's the rub! When you are in Spain. And afterward, in France.
-What then?"
-
-"In both countries I can be a Frenchman," and now I saw these two
-great officers look at me attentively. "I have the French tongue very
-well--well enough to pass through Spain as a Frenchman, while--when in
-France--I can pass as a Spaniard who knows the French."
-
-"'S heart!" exclaimed Ormond, slapping of the table with his be-ringed
-hand, "but I would you were in one of my regiments. You have a brain
-as well as a stalwart form. You must go far; and shall, if my word is
-any good with Jack Churchill."
-
-"My Lord Duke, you are most gracious. Yet may I not ask if the plan is
-a fair one? At least, remembering that, by sea, the way is closed."
-
-Fair or not fair, at least I brought them to it--more especially
-since, even though they had most utterly disapproved of my proposed
-method, they could neither of them have opposed it. For I was the Earl
-of Marlborough's officer; nay, more, I was his own particular and
-private messenger; I had come under his orders, and was still under
-them. Moreover, his last words to me had been: "Do your duty; fulfil
-the task I charge you with; then make your way back to me as best you
-can." That was all, yet enough.
-
-Therefore it was arranged without more demur, though Sir George Rooke,
-who was now growing old, shook his head somewhat gravely, even as he
-ceased endeavouring to turn me from what I had resolved on.
-
-"For," said he, kindly, "I like it not. You are still young--some
-years off thirty, I should suppose--and you are a good soldier--too
-good to be spared to any crawling Spaniard's knife or to fall into any
-truculent Frenchman's hands. And I would have taken you to England and
-put in the first queen's ship for Holland, had you chosen. Still, as
-you will, you will. Only, be very careful."
-
-"Sir!" I said, touched at his fatherly consideration. "Be sure I will.
-Yet I think I can take care of myself. I have a good sword and a
-strong arm, and--well, one bullet is much the same as another. If one
-finds me in Spain or France, 'twill be no worse than one in Flanders.
-And, perhaps, my bullet is not moulded yet!"
-
-As for his Grace, he took a different tack, he being younger and more
-_débonnair_ than the admiral.
-
-"Oddsbobs," he said, "bullets are bullets, and may be a soldier's lot
-or not. But for you, Lieutenant, I fear a worse danger. You are a
-good-looking fellow enough, with your height and breadth, blue eyes
-and brown hair. Rather, therefore, beware of the Spanish girls, and
-keep out of their way--or, encountering them, give them no cause for
-jealousy! Oh! I know them, and--well, they are the devil! 'Tis they
-who wield the knife--as often as not against those whom they loved
-five minutes back."
-
-And, looking at the duke--who was himself of great manly beauty--I
-could well enough believe he knew what he was talking of. For, if all
-reports were true--but this matters not.
-
-The time had not, however, yet come, for some day or so, for me to set
-out, since 'twas arranged that I should be put ashore by one of the
-_Pembroke's_ boats when the fleet went out of the bay, and that then
-my last farewell would be made to those amongst whom I had now lived
-for some weeks. Meanwhile, Sir George asked me what had become of my
-young friend, the Spanish gentleman, whom he called my "captive."
-
-Now, this young captive had had still another interview with him after
-that first one, Sir George having sent for him from the Pembroke, into
-which he had been temporarily received as a guest--since _La Sacra
-Familia_ had been sunk by us after being dismantled of all in her of
-any worth--and he had once more renewed his offer of taking him to
-England. And it surprised me exceedingly--I being present at this
-interview--to observe the extraordinary courtesy and deference which
-he--who was more used to receive deference from his fellow-men than to
-accord it--showed to the youth; for he took him very graciously by the
-hand when he entered the cabin, led him to a seat, and, when there,
-renewed once more that offer of which I have spoken.
-
-Indeed, his politeness was so great that I began to wonder if, by any
-chance, the admiral knew of this young man being any one of extreme
-importance, to whom it might be worth his while, as the chief
-representative of England here, to pay court. Yet, so silly was that
-wonderment that I dismissed it instantly from my mind, deciding that
-it was pity for his youth and loneliness which so urged the other.
-
-"If you would go with us," he said, sitting by Belmonte's side, and
-speaking in the soft, well bred tones which were special to him, "you
-should be very welcome, I assure you, sir; and I do not say this as a
-sailor speaking to one who has by chance fallen into his hands, so to
-put it, but as an old man to a--to a young one; for, sir, I have
-children myself, some young as you, some older; have sons and--and
-daughters, and I should be most grateful to all who would be kind to
-them."
-
-Now, as he spoke thus there became visible in Seńor Juan another trait
-of character which I had scarce looked to see, it proving him to be a
-youth of great susceptibility. For, as the admiral made his kindly
-speech, I saw the beautiful dark eyes of the young man fill with
-tears--'twas marvellous how handsome he appeared at this moment--and,
-a second later, he had seized the old man's hand and had clasped it to
-his breast and kissed it.
-
-But, even as he performed this action, I also saw Sir George start a
-little, give, indeed, what was but the faintest of starts; yet beneath
-the bronze upon his manly face there rose a colour which, had he not
-been a sailor, and that a pretty old one, might have appeared to be a
-blush. But because he was so manly and so English himself--being
-always most courteous and well bred, though abhorring, as it seemed to
-me, all signs of emotion--I concluded that this foreign style of
-salutation did not commend itself over-much to him; yet he listened
-very courteously, deferentially almost, it appeared, to the words of
-gratitude which the youth was now pouring out--words of gratitude for
-his offer, yet combined also with an absolute refusal of that offer.
-
-"Very well; since you will not, sir," he said, when the young man had
-finished, "there is no more to be done. Yet, take a word of warning
-from me, I beseech you. You will find it hard to reach England in a
-better way than I have suggested to you. Both France and Spain must be
-overrun with troops of all kinds at this time and--if you fall into
-their hands with your papers about you, showing you are an English
-subject--it may go hard. Also"--and now he tapped the cabin deck with
-his red-heeled shoe and looked down at it for a moment--"also--you are
-extremely well favoured. That, too, may injure you should--should--but,"
-he went on, and without concluding his last sentence, "you understand
-what I mean," and now he gazed at Seńor Juan with clear, frank eyes;
-gazed straight into his own.
-
-For the life of me I could not understand what he was driving at, even
-if the youth himself could; since how a man should be injured by his
-good looks, even though in a hostile country, I failed to conceive.
-Certain, however, it was that the other understood well enough Sir
-George's meaning--his next action showed plainly enough that he did.
-
-For now the rich warm colouring left his soft downless cheeks, even
-the full lips became pale, and he lifted his long slim hand and thrust
-it through the clusters of curls that hung over his forehead, as
-though in some distress of mind; then said, a moment later, looking up
-now and returning the admiral's glance fearlessly, while speaking very
-low.
-
-"Yes, I understand. Yet, Seńor, have no fear."
-
-But I noticed, all the same, that he lifted his other hand as though
-to deprecate Sir George saying another word, which gesture he too
-seemed quite to understand, since he gave a half bow very solemnly ere
-he turned away.
-
-Later, after Seńor Juan had departed, and when Admiral Hopson had come
-over to the _Royal Sovereign_, to prepare for another of those endless
-councils which took place daily, Sir George looked up at me from some
-papers he was perusing, and said: "You are in the _Pembroke_, Mr.
-Crespin. Where have they bestowed that young man?"
-
-"He is very comfortable, sir," I replied. "They have given him a spare
-cabin in the after flat."
-
-"And the officers? Do they make him welcome, treat him with courtesy?"
-
-"Oh, yes, indeed. He is popular with them already, sings them sweet
-songs accompanied by that instrument of his; is a rare hand at tricks
-of all kinds with the pass-dice and cards, and so forth. They will
-miss him when he has gone."
-
-"Humph! Does he say who or what he is--which island in the Indies he
-belongs to--who are his kith and kin?"
-
-"He says not much, sir, on that score; except that he is well enough
-to do--is traveling more or less to kill time--cares very little where
-he goes to for the present, so that he sees the world. As for his
-home, he appears best acquainted with Jamaica."
-
-"Ha!" said Sir George. "He says all that, does he? Yet, though 'tis
-not permissible to doubt those who stand more or less in the degree of
-guests, I somewhat suspect that young man of not being all he appears
-to be. There is some other reason for his voyage to Europe than that
-he gives; he comes not on mere pleasure only. I know that--some day if
-you ever meet him again you will very likely know it, too, Mr.
-Crespin."
-
-"Perhaps," exclaimed Admiral Hopson--who was soon to become Sir John
-Hopson (with a good pension) for the gallant part he had played in the
-late fight--"he was a friend of that accursed monk, although he has
-not levanted as he did. And since you talk of meetings, why, i'fags, I
-would like to meet that gentleman once more."
-
-"Levanted!" Sir George and I exclaimed together. "Is the monk set
-out?"
-
-"Ay, he is," replied the other. "Went last night--the instant he could
-get his necessaries out of the galleon's hold. It was discourteous,
-too, since I had previously sent to crave a few words with him."
-
-"'S faith," Sir George exclaimed with a laugh, "you are not turning
-Papist, old friend, are you? Didst want the monk to shrive or confess
-you, or receive you into his church?"
-
-"Not I--no Papistical doings for me," the blunt old gentleman replied.
-"The church my mother had me baptised in, and under whose blessing I
-have been fighting all my life, is good enough for me to finish in.
-Still, had I a foolish woman's mind to change, 'twould not be to that
-man I should go."
-
-"Why!" exclaimed Sir George, "what know you of him? Yet--yet," and he
-spoke slowly, "you know the Indies, Tom--and the monks are not always
-what they might be. Did you chance to know him, since you sent to
-demand an interview?"
-
-"I thought so," said the inscrutable old sea dog quietly, "wherefore I
-sent asking him for a meeting. Yet, as our beloved friends the French
-say, the cowl does not always make the monk. Hey? And, if 'tis the
-man I think, 'twas not always the cowl and gown that adorned his
-person--rather, instead, the belt and pistols, buff jerkin, scarlet
-sash, long serviceable rapier handy, and--have at you, ha! one, two
-and through you. Hey!"
-
-And as he spoke he made a feint of lunging at his brother admiral with
-a quill that lay to his hand.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII.
-
-"DANGERS WORSE THAN SHOT OR STEEL--OR DEATH."
-
-
-Now I return to the beach at Viana, on which I stood after having
-quitted the fleet--yet still, ere I go on, I must put you in the way
-of knowing how it comes about that for companion I have Seńor Juan
-Belmonte, who at this moment is making his way into what proved to be
-a very filthy town in search of lodgings for us for the night. And
-this is how it came about:
-
-When it was decided finally that I should part from the British
-squadron on the day they cleared out--they intending to anchor over
-night outside of Vigo bay and to send forward some frigates scouting
-ere going on their way to England--I made mention to Belmonte that
-such was my intention. Also I asked him--I finding of him in his
-cabin, where he was reading a Spanish book of love verses--what he
-meant to do with himself, since, if he did not leave the ship when, or
-before, I did, he would be forced to accept Sir George's invitation to
-proceed to England with him.
-
-"Oh, my friend!" he said, with ever the soft, gentle smile upon his
-handsome features, "my friend and conqueror"--for so he had taken to
-terming me--"I want no terrible journey to England in these great
-fierce ships of war. Tell me, tell me, _amígo mio_, what you are going
-to do yourself. Your plans! Your plans!"
-
-"My plans," I said, seeing no reason why I should not divulge them to
-him, since it was impossible he could do me any hurt, even if so
-inclined, which I thought not very likely, "are simple ones. I go
-ashore at Viana, find a horse--one will carry me part of the journey,
-then I can get another--and so, by God's will, get to the end, to my
-destination."
-
-"But the destination. The destination. Where is it? Tell me that."
-
-"The destination is Flanders, the seat of the present war. I am a
-soldier. My place is there."
-
-"Aye, aye," he replied. "I know. You have told me. Your service is not
-with these ships nor their soldiers, but with others--a great army,
-far north."
-
-"That is it," I said.
-
-"And you will travel all that way--mean to travel--alone!"
-
-"I must," I said, "if I intend to get there. There is no other way."
-
-"Take me with you!" he exclaimed, suddenly, springing impetuously to
-his feet from the chair in which he sat. "Take me with you! I will be
-a good companion--amuse you, sing to you, wile away the long hours,
-stand by your side. If necessary," yet he said this a little slower,
-and with more hesitation, as I thought, "fight with you."
-
-Now, putting all other objections which rose to my mind away for the
-moment, this last utterance of his did not recommend him very strongly
-to me. "Fight for me, indeed!" I thought. "A fine fighter this would
-be!--a youth who had turned pale at seeing a dead man or two floating
-by in the water after the battle, or at hearing the shriek of a
-wounded one as we rowed past him on our way to the _Royal Sovereign!_"
-
-However, aloud I said:
-
-"Seńor Belmonte, I fear it cannot be as you desire. The road will be
-hard and rough, the journey long; there will be little opportunity for
-singing and jiggettings. Moreover, death will always be more or less
-in the air. If, in Spain or France, I am discovered--nay, even
-suspected of being what I am, an English soldier--'twill be short
-shrift for me. I shall be deemed a spy, and shot, or hung to the
-nearest tree. Take, therefore, my counsel at once, and follow it. Go
-you to England in this ship, as the admiral invites you. That way you
-will be safe and easy."
-
-"No, no, no," he answered. "I will not; I will not. I will go with
-you. I like you," he said, with a most friendly glance. "If--if you go
-alone--if we part here--we shall never meet again. That shall not be.
-I am resolved. And--and--only let me go, and I will be so good! I
-promise. Will not sing a note--will--see there!" and, like a petulant
-boy as he was, he seized his viol d'amore, which hung on a nail in the
-cabin, and dashed it to the floor, while, a moment later, he would
-have stamped his foot into it had I not stopped him. "Yes, I will
-break it all to pieces. Since it offends you, I will never strike
-another note on it, nor will I ever sing again--not in your hearing,
-at least--though I have known some who liked well enough to hear me
-play--and sing, too."
-
-"Juan," I said, not knowing in the least why his impassioned grief
-moved me so much as to address him thus familiarly, which I had never
-done before, "it offends me not at all; instead, I have often listened
-gratefully to the music of your voice and viol. But now--now--on such
-a journey as I go it would be out of place, even if you were there,
-which you must not be."
-
-"I must. I must. I must," he answered. "I will. You called me Juan
-just now--ah! you are my friend, or you would not speak thus. Oh!" he
-went on, and now he clutched my arm and gazed fervently into my face,
-"do not refuse. And see, think, Mervan," pronouncing my name thus, and
-in a tone that would have moved a marble heart, "I shall be no trouble
-to you. I can ride, oh! like a devil when I choose--I have ridden with
-the Mestizos and natives in the isles--and I can use a pistol or
-petronel, also a sword. See," and he whipped his rapier off the bed
-where it was a-lying, drew it from its sheath impetuously, as he did
-everything, and began making pass after pass through the open door of
-the cabin into the gangway. "I know what to do. Also, remember, I can
-speak Spanish when we are in Spain--pass for a Spaniard if 'tis
-necessary--and--and--and----" he broke off, "if you will not take me
-with you, why, then, I will follow you; track you like a shadow, sleep
-like a dog outside the inn in which you lie warm and snug; ay! even
-though you beat me and drive me away for doing so."
-
-Again and still again I resisted, yet 'twas hard to do; for, though I
-had spoken against his singings and playings, and kept ever before my
-eyes the stern remembrance of my duty, which was to make my way
-straight to my goal and crash through all impediments, I could not but
-reflect that this bright, joyous lad by my side would help to cheer
-many a lonely hour and many a gloomy mile. Yet again I spoke against
-the project, putting such thoughts aside.
-
-"Child," I said, "you do not know, do not understand. Our--my--path
-will be beset with dangers. _I_ know what I am doing, what lies before
-me. Listen, Juan. 'Tis more than like that I shall never reach
-Flanders, never ride with my old troops again, never more feel a
-comrade's hand clasped in mine; may perish by the wayside, have my
-throat cut in some lonely inn, be shot in the back, taken as a spy.
-Yet 'tis my duty. I am a soldier and a man; you are----"
-
-"Yes?" with an inward catching of the breath, a flash from the dark
-eyes.
-
-"A boy; a lad; also, you say, well enough to do, with a long and happy
-life before you, no call upon you to fling that life away. Juan, it
-must not be."
-
-"It shall," he said, leaning forward toward me. "It shall; I swear it
-by my dead mother's memory. Boy! Lad, you say. So be it. Yet with the
-will and determination of a hundred men. To-morrow, Mervan, to-night,
-to-day, if I can get a boat to the great ship out there, I visit the
-admiral and ask him to put me ashore with you. And he will do it.
-Great as he is, in command over all you English here, I have a power
-within," and he struck his breast with his hands, "a power over him
-which will force him to do as I wish. Do you dare me--challenge me?"
-
-"No," I answered quietly, though in truth somewhat amazed at his
-words, while still remembering the strange deference Sir George had
-shown all along to the youth. "I dare to say you may prevail--with
-him."
-
-"Aye--with him!" and now he laughed a little, showing the small pearly
-white teeth, somewhat. "With him! I understand. But you mean not with
-you also. Yet, with you, too, I shall prevail. I will follow you till
-you give me leave to keep ever by your side. Remember, if I am not
-Spanish, I have lived in Spain's dependencies. I can be very Spanish
-when I choose," and again he laughed, and again the white teeth
-glistened beneath the scarlet lips.
-
-"If," I said, scarce knowing or understanding what power was
-influencing me, making me a puppet in this youth's hands--yet still a
-yielding one!--"the admiral gives his consent to put you ashore, then
-I----"
-
-"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, Mervan?" he interposed quickly.
-
-"Then I will not withhold mine. Come with me if you choose--remember,
-'tis at your own risk."
-
-In a moment his whole face was transfigured with joy. Seeing that joy,
-I deemed myself almost a brute to have ever tried to drive him away
-from me, although I had endeavoured to do so as much for his own
-safety as my own. He laughed and muttered little pleased expressions
-in Spanish which I neither understood nor am capable of setting down
-here; almost I thought he would Have flung his arms around my neck and
-embraced me. Indeed, it seemed as though he were about to do so, but,
-suddenly recollecting himself, desisted--perhaps because he knew that
-to us English such demonstrations were not palatable.
-
-And now I have to tell how Sir George placed no obstruction in the
-way, allowing him to go ashore with me; yet, when he heard that we
-were to travel together the look upon his face was one of extreme
-gravity, almost of sternness. Also, he maintained a deep silence for a
-moment or two after I had told him such was to be the case, and sat
-with his eyes fixed on me as though he were endeavouring to read my
-very inmost thoughts. But at last he said quietly, and with even more
-than usual of that reserve which characterised him:
-
-"You have found out nothing about this young man yet, Mr. Crespin,
-then?--know nothing more about him than you have known from the first?
-Um?"
-
-"I know nothing more, sir."
-
-Again he paused awhile, then spoke once more, with the slightest
-perceptible shrug of his shoulders as he did so:
-
-"Very well. 'Tis your affair, not mine. You are not under my command,
-but that of the Earl of Marlborough. You must do as seems best to you.
-Yet have a care what you are about." Then he leant forward toward me,
-and said: "Mr. Crespin, you have done extremely well--have gained a
-high place in our esteem. When his Lordship reads what the Duke of
-Ormond and myself have to say about you, you will find your promotion
-very rapid, I think. Do not, I beseech of you--do not imperil it in
-any way; do not be led away into jeopardising the bright future, the
-brilliant career, that is before you. Run on no rock, avoid every
-shoal that may avert your successful course."
-
-"Sir," said, "I am a soldier with many unknown dangers before me. This
-boy can add nothing to their number. Yet, sir, for your gracious
-consideration for me I am deeply grateful."
-
-Still he regarded me, saying nothing for a moment or so, then spoke
-again:
-
-"Dangers!" he said--"the dangers every honest soldier or sailor
-encounters in his calling are nothing; they are our portion; must be
-avoided, if may be; if not, must be accepted. And he who falls in the
-battle has naught to repine at--at least he falls honourably, leaves a
-clean memory behind."
-
-"Sir!"
-
-"But there are other dangers that are worse than shot, or steel--or
-death! Many a brave soldier and sailor has gone under from other
-causes than these. Mr. Crespin, I say no more--have, perhaps, said too
-much, were it not that you have strangely interested me." Then,
-abruptly, he went on, and as though with the intention of forbidding
-any more remarks on that subject: "Captain Hardy shall be instructed
-to send you both ashore on the morning after we go out. Here are some
-papers from the duke and myself to the Earl of Marlborough. Be careful
-of them; they relate to you alone. I--we--hope they will assist you to
-go far."
-
-I bowed and murmured my thanks, for which he observed there was no
-necessity whatever, then gave me his hand and said:
-
-"Farewell, Mr. Crespin; we may not meet again. I wish you all you can
-desire for yourself. Farewell."
-
-But he uttered no further word of warning of any kind, and so let me
-go away from him wondering blindly what it was he knew of this young
-man; wondering above all what it was against which he covertly put me
-on my guard.
-
-Later on--though not for some time to come--I knew and understood.
-
- * * * * * * * * *
-
-I found Juan--after the sails of the boat from the _Pembroke_ had
-faded into little white specks upon the surface of the water, until
-they looked no bigger than the flash made by seagull's wing--found him
-outside the one and only inn of this small town, lolling against the
-doorpost--made dirty and greasy with the shoulders of countless
-Algarvian peasants--and amusing himself by trying to make a group of
-ragged children understand the pure Spanish he was speaking to them.
-
-Then, as he saw me crossing the filthy street, he came over to meet
-me--never heeding the splashing of mud administered to the handsome
-long boots which he had now upon his legs, though he was dainty, too,
-in his ways--and began telling me of what arrangements he had already
-made for our journey.
-
-"First, _mío amigo_," he said, joyously, "about the horses. Two are
-already in command. One, a big bony creature which is for you, Mervan,
-because you also are big and stalwart, and require something grand to
-carry you--while for me there is a jennet with, oh! such a fiery eye
-and a way of biting at everything near it. But have no fear! Once I am
-on its back, and _por Diôs!_ it will do as I want, not as it wants."
-
-I laughed, then asked if these animals were to be our own.
-
-"Oh, yes, our own," he said. "Our very own. I have bought them--they
-are ours. And, if they break down--yours, I think, must surely do
-so--why, we will turn them loose into the nearest wood, and--buy some
-more."
-
-"At this rate we shall spend some money ere we strike Flanders," I
-said.
-
-"Ho! Ho! Money--who cares for money! I have plenty, enough for you and
-me, too. We will travel comfortably, _mon ami_; have the best of
-everything. Plenty of money, and--and, Mervan, do you know, if it was
-not for one of the most accursed villains who ever trod the face of
-the earth, I should be so rich that--that--oh! it is impossible to
-say. Mervan," catching at my arm with that boyish impetuosity of his
-which ever fascinated me; "you are English, therefore you know all the
-English, I suppose. In Jamaica and Hispaniola and all the other
-islands we know everybody. Mervan, who is, or where is, James Eaton?"
-
-"James Eaton!" I exclaimed, with a laugh at his innocent supposition
-that we were all acquainted with each other in England as they are in
-the Indies; yet 'tis true that he could not know that our capital city
-alone had so vast and incredible a population as half a million
-souls! "James Eaton! Who and what is he? An officer? If so, I might,
-perhaps, know, or get to know, something of him."
-
-"An officer? Oh! yes, _por Diôs!_ he is an officer--has been once. But
-not such as you or those brave ones we have just parted from. An
-officer. _Corpo di Bacco!_ A villain, _vagamundo_, Mervan--a
-_filibustier_--what the English call in the islands a damned pirate."
-
-"Humph!" I said. "A friend of yours? Eh, Juan?"
-
-"A friend of mine? Ho! Yes. Mon Dieu! He is a friend. Wait--when we
-are in England you shall see how much I love my friend. Oh, yes! You
-shall see. When I take him by his beard and thrust this through his
-black heart," and he touched the quillon of the sword by his side as
-he spoke.
-
-"And is he the villain who has stolen your wealth?" I asked, as we
-entered now the door of the inn, I nearly falling backward from the
-horrible odours which greeted my nostrils when we did so.
-
-"He is the villain. Oh! 'tis a story. Such a story. You shall hear.
-But not now--not now. Now we will eat and drink and be gay."
-
-"But," I said, my curiosity much aroused, "if he has stolen your
-wealth how comes it you are rich, as you say? Have you two
-fortunes--two sources of wealth?"
-
-"Yes," he replied, with his bright, sweet smile. "Two fortunes--the
-one he stole, the other--but no matter for fortunes now. I have enough
-and plenty for myself--and, Mervan, for you if you want it. Plenty."
-
-"I, too, have enough for present wants," I said. "Quite enough."
-
-"_Bueno_. _Bueno_," he said. "Then all is well. And now to
-eat, drink and be gay until to-morrow. Then away, away, away to
-Flanders--anywhere, so long as we are together. Joy to-day, work and
-travel to-morrow. But, Mervan," and once more he placed his hand
-supplicatingly on my arm. "Forgive. Forgive me. I--I have brought the
-viol d'amore."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV.
-
-"IT IS WAR TIME! IF IT MUST BE, IT MUST."
-
-
-We were English gentlemen furnished with passports to enable us to
-travel through Spain--which might not be difficult, since there were
-likely to be as many English troops in that country as there were
-French, while one-half of the inhabitants wavered in their espousals
-of either us and Austria or Louis and Philip.
-
-That, at least, was what we _meant to give_ out if anyone in
-Portugal--and in Viana especially--should make it their business to
-ask us any questions, which, however, was not very likely to be the
-case; for, in this miserable hole--and miserable it was beyond all
-thought--there were none who could have any possible right to so ask
-us of our affairs, there being no consul of any country whatever in
-the place--and, for the rest, we were English. That was enough; we
-were English, come ashore from that great fleet whose deeds of the
-last few weeks had spread consternation for leagues around and on
-either side of Vigo, and whose topmasts were now very plainly visible
-a mile or so out from the shore; topsails, too, which would be
-conspicuous enough to all in Viana for another day or so, until the
-scouts returned with their news; and before this fleet had disappeared
-we should be gone, too--on our road to Spain, to France, to Flanders.
-
-That road was already decided on--we were poring over the chart now
-upstairs in the sleeping room Juan had secured for me, he having
-another one for himself on the opposite side of the corridor--poring
-over it by the light of an oil lamp and the flames cast by a bright
-cork-wood fire which we had caused to be lit, since 'twas already very
-cold, it being now November.
-
-We had resolved, however, that the great high road to France would not
-be the very best, perhaps, for our purpose--the road which, passing
-through Portugal into Spain at Miranda and Tuy, runs through
-Valladolid and Burgos up to Bayonne and France, for these towns were
-in the kingdoms of Leon and Castile, and here all were, we learnt, for
-Philip and France; but we knew also that with other parts of Spain it
-was no so. Away on the eastern shores, Catalonia and Valencia had
-declared for Charles of Austria and the allies. Nearer to where we
-were, namely, in Galicia, above Portugal, they wavered. Yet 'twas said
-now that they inclined toward us, perhaps because Vigo is in Galicia
-and, therefore, they had had a taste of how we could be either good
-friend or fateful foe. Certainly we had shown we could well be the
-latter!
-
-"Yes," I said to Juan, my finger on the chart; "this way will be our
-road. Across the frontier where the Minho divides the two countries,
-then up its banks to Lugo, and so through the Asturias to Biscay and
-Bayonne. That is our way, and, after all, 'tis not much farther than
-t'other. And safer, too. If Galicia leans to us, so may the Asturians.
-If not, we shall be no worse off than if we traversed Leon, Castile
-and Navarre."
-
-"_Vogue la galčre!_" cried the boy, who generally varied his
-exclamations from Spanish to French and French to English--whichever
-came uppermost--"I care nothing. We shall be together, _mio amigo_;
-that's enough for me."
-
-"Together for a time," I put in; "for a time. Remember, once we reach
-Flanders--if we ever do--which is more than doubtful--my service
-claims me. 'Tis war there, hard knocks and buffets for me--for you the
-first sloop or vessel of any sort that will run you over to the
-English coast."
-
-"Oh, la, la!" said Juan, "'tis not come yet. We have a month, at
-least, together, and perhaps even then we will not part. This great
-soldier, this fierce captain you speak of, this English lord who
-contends with France--perhaps he will let me fight too. Give me--what
-is it you call it?--a pair of colours. Then we could fight side by
-side, Mervan, could we not?"
-
-I nodded and muttered: "Perhaps," though in truth I thought nothing
-was more unlikely. In some way I had come to have none too great an
-opinion of the youth's courage or capacity for fighting, remembering
-how he had paled, nay, almost shuddered, at the sight of those poor
-dead ones floating in Vigo harbour; while for the "pair of
-colours"--well, there was plenty of interest being made on all sides
-by those of influence in England to obtain such things for their own
-kith and kin. There would be mighty little chance for this young
-stripling to be received into any regiment. Therefore I went on with
-our plans, saying, as I still glanced at the chart:
-
-"That must be the road. And from Lugo across the mountains to Baos,
-then to Elcampo, and so to Bilbao up to Bayonne. That is the way."
-
-"To Lugo," he repeated, meditatively. "To Lugo. Humph! To Lugo. That
-is the way they went, you know--Chateaurenault and his captains--when
-they fled from you."
-
-Now I started when he said this, for I had, indeed, forgotten the
-slight rumour I had heard to that effect--forgotten it amidst all the
-excitement of the stirring times that had followed the battle and the
-taking of the galleons. Yet now the fact was recalled to my mind, I
-did not let it alter my determination, and after a moment's
-reflection, I said:
-
-"Still it matters not. They will not have gone that way for the same
-reason that we shall go it. On their road to France! Chateaurenault
-will not stay there, but rather push on to Paris to give an account of
-his defeat--make the best excuses he can to his master. Nor will he
-come back--an he does, he will find nothing here. His ships are sunk
-or being carried to England, and 'tis so with the galleons that are
-not themselves at the bottom of the ocean. 'Tis very well. To-morrow
-we set out for Lugo, take the first step on our road."
-
-And on the morrow we did set out--amidst, perhaps, as disagreeable
-circumstances as could be the case.
-
-For when we rose early the snow was falling in thick flakes; also
-'twas driven into our faces by a stiff northeasterly wind which
-brought it down from the Cantabrian mountains, and soon our breasts
-were covered with a layer of it which we had much ado to prevent from
-freezing on them, and could only accomplish by frequent buffets. Yet
-we were not cold, neither, since our horses were still able to trot
-beneath it--for as yet it lay not upon the roads, and we could thus
-keep ourselves warm. Yet, withal, we made some ten leagues that
-day--the animals under us proving far better than might with reason
-have been expected, judging by their lean and sorry appearance--and
-arrived ere nightfall at a small village--yet walled and fortified,
-because it lies close on to the Spanish frontier--called Valenza. And
-here we rested for the night, finding, however, at first great
-difficulty in being permitted to get into it, and, next, an equal
-trouble in obtaining lodgings in the one inn of the place.
-
-Also we learnt that it behooved us to be very careful when we set out
-next day, or we might find it impossible to enter Spain, which now lay
-close at hand, and separated only by the Minho from this place; or,
-being in, might find it hard to go forward.
-
-"For," said the host, a filthy, unkempt creature who looked as though
-he were more accustomed to attending to cattle in their sheds than to
-human beings, but who by great good fortune was able to speak broken
-French, "at Tuy, where you must pass into Spain, they are rigourous
-now as to papers, letting none enter who are not properly provided.
-_Basto!_ 'tis not a week ago that one went forward who was passed
-through with difficulty. And a Spaniard, too, though from the Indies."
-
-"From the Indies!" exclaimed Juan, with impetuosity. "From the Indies!
-Why, so am I and--and this seńor," looking at me, "both from the
-Indies. Therefore, we can pass also, I should suppose."
-
-"Oh, for that," answered the man, "I know not. Yet this old man went
-through, somehow. He had come up from the south--from Cadiz, as I
-think, or Cartagena, or the Sierras--in a great coach and four,
-travelled as a prince, had good provisions with him, and ho!--he gave
-me to taste of it!--some strong waters that made me feel like a
-prince, too, though the good God knows I am none!" and he cast his
-eyes round the filthy room into which we had been shown. "Also, he had
-his papers all regular; also," and here he gave a glance at us of
-unspeakable cunning, "he was generous and open-handed. That spared him
-much trouble."
-
-"Perhaps 'twill spare us, too!" again exclaimed Juan. "We can also be
-generous and open-handed."
-
-"It will do much. Yet the papers! The papers! Have you the papers?"
-
-Now, we had no papers whatsoever that would stand us in such stead;
-therefore, when we were alone together in the room which was to be
-ours, and in which there were two miserable, dirty-looking beds, side
-by side, covered with sheepskins for coverlets--and perhaps for
-blankets, too!--we fell to discussing what must be done; for it was at
-once plain and easy to see that at Tuy we should never get through. I
-had no papers nor passports whatever, while Juan bore about him only
-those which proved that he was a subject of England.
-
-"Yet," said he, "they knew not that on board _La Sacra Familia_, and,
-because I could speak Spanish as well as they, deemed me a Spaniard. I
-wonder if I could get through that way."
-
-"_You_ might, possibly," I replied. "I am sure I never should. The
-Spanish which I know is scarce good enough for that."
-
-"'Tis true," he said, reflectively--"true enough. Yet, you have the
-French. See, Mervan, here is an idea. I am a Spaniard and you are a
-Frenchman, for the moment. Both countries are sworn friends now as
-regards their government, if not their people. Why should not we be
-travelling together as natives of those lands?"
-
-"An we were," I answered, "we should not be without passports.
-Remember, we come to them from Portugal; therefore, to have gotten
-into Portugal as either Spanish man or Frenchman, we should have
-wanted papers; and we have none. Consequently, the first question
-asked us will be, How got we into Portugal? Then what reply shall we
-make? That we came from the English fleet, which has just destroyed
-their galleons? That will scarce do, Juan, for our purpose, I think."
-
-Acknowledging such to be the case, Juan sat himself down on the dirty
-bed and began to ponder.
-
-"At least we will not be whipped," he muttered, "and at the
-outset, too. Mervan, we must find another road somehow, or, better
-still--there must be some part of the frontier which runs the northern
-length of this miserable land, and which is unguarded. Can we not get
-across without any road? Up one side of a mountain and down another,
-and so--into Spain!"
-
-"'Tis that I have thought of. Yet there are the horses--also a river
-to cross. And, as luck will have it, the mountains hereabouts are none
-too high nor dense with woods, nor do they run from east to west, but
-rather south and north. Such as there are, you can see from this
-window," and I pointed in the swift, on-coming darkness of the
-November evening to where they could be seen across the river, their
-summits low, and over them a rusty rime-blurred moon rising.
-
-Then I went on:
-
-"Juan, we must tempt the landlord with some of that _largesse_ which
-the old man who came in the coach seems to have distributed so
-lavishly--only, he has bestowed it on the Spanish side--ours must
-begin here. Come, let us go and see what can be done with him."
-
-"But what to do?" the boy said, looking at me with his strange eyes
-full of intelligence and perhaps anxiety.
-
-"This: there must be some way of traversing the river when there is no
-town on either side--if the worst came to the worst we could swim it
-on our horses at night."
-
-"On such a night as this!" exclaimed Juan, shuddering and glancing out
-through the uncurtained window at the flakes of snow which still fell.
-"It would be death," he whispered, shuddering again.
-
-"You are easily appalled," I said, speaking coldly to him for the
-first time since our acquaintance. "Yet, remember, I warned you of
-what you might expect in such an expedition as this. You would have
-done better to accept the admiral's offer. A cabin in the _Pembroke_
-would have been a lady's withdrawing room in contrast to what we may
-have to encounter."
-
-"Forgive me. Forgive," he hastened to say pleadingly. "Indeed, indeed,
-Mervan, I am bold and no coward--but, remember, I am of the tropic
-south, and 'tis the cold of the river that appalls me--not fear for my
-life. Like many of our clime, I can sooner face death than
-discomfort."
-
-"There will be enough facing of both ere we have done--that is, if we
-ever get farther than here," I said, almost contemptuously.
-
-"So be it," he exclaimed, springing to his feet and evidently bitterly
-hurt by my tone. Indeed, 'twas very evident he was, since the tears
-stood in his eyes. "So be it. We face it! Now," and he rapped the
-table between us as though to emphasise his words, "continue your
-plans, make your suggestions, bid me swim rivers, cross mountains,
-plunge into icy streams or burning houses, and see if I flinch or draw
-back again. Only--only," and his voice sank to its usual soft tones,
-"do not be angry with me."
-
-That it was impossible to be angry with him long I felt, nor, for some
-unexplained reason, could I despise him for his evident objection to
-discomfort--the discomfort which would arise from so trifling a
-thing--to me, a cuirassier--as swimming one's horse across a river on
-a winter night. And, as my contempt, such as it was, vanished at once
-at his plea to me not to be angry with him, I exclaimed:
-
-"At worst it shall be made as light for you as may be, since you are
-only a boy after all! And if that worst comes," I continued, in a good
-natured, bantering way, which caused the tears to disappear and the
-smiles to return, which brought back to my mind a song my good old
-father used to sing about "Sunshine after Rain"--"if that worst comes,
-why, I will swim the river with you on my back, and your jennet shall
-swim by my horse's side. Now, for the landlord!"
-
-We found that unclean personage a-sitting over a fair good fire, which
-roared cheerfully up a vast open chimney from the stone floor upon
-which the logs were, with, by his side, a woman who was blind, as we
-saw very quickly when she turned eyes on us which were naught but
-white balls with no pupils to them. And, because we at once perceived
-that there was no power of sight in those dreadful orbs, I made no
-more to do, but, slipping of my finger into my waistcoat pocket,
-pulled out two great gold doubloons--worth more than our guineas--and
-held them up before him. Then I said in French, and speaking low,
-because I knew not whether that stricken one might understand or not:
-
-"See, this will pay our addition and more. Now listen. You may equally
-as well have them as the _guarda frontéra_ at Tuy. Will you?"
-
-He nodded, grasping the pieces--I noticed that he kept them from
-clinking against each other, perhaps because he wanted not his wife to
-know that he had gotten them--then put each into a different pocket,
-and said: "She understands not the French. Speak."
-
-"We have no papers. Listen; we are English! We must cross into Spain,
-Tell us some other road; put us in the way, and--see--to-morrow
-morning, these are for you also."
-
-And I took forth two more of the golden coins.
-
-He looked at us a moment, then said: "You--hate--Spain?" Again I
-nodded.
-
-"So all of us here at Valenza," he went on. "A fierce, cruel neighbor,
-would trample on us because we are weak. Will seize us yet an England
-helps not. Crush them--and France--the world's plague! Listen!"
-
-Then, as we bent our heads, he went on: "From here there is a bye-road
-leads to the river bank; it crosses by a wooden bridge into Spain, a
-league this side of Melagasso. I will put you in the way in the
-morning. Once over that bridge, there is a road cut from the rock that
-mounts two hundred paces. There at the summit is the _guarda
-frontéra_. Two men are there, an old and a young one. Kill them, and
-you are through, leaving no trace behind. Afterward, there is no sign
-of life for three leagues."
-
-"Kill them!" I exclaimed. "Must that be done?"
-
-"Ay--or silence them. But--killing is best. And--and--the cliff is
-high, the river runs deep beneath. Cast them in, and you are safe."
-
-"They may see us passing the bridge--kill _us_ ere we can mount the
-road."
-
-"Do it in the night," the fellow whispered. "In the night, when all is
-dark. And 'twill be almost nightfall ere you are there. Do it then."
-
-"There is no other way, no other entrance to Spain?"
-
-"None--without papers."
-
-"Good. It is war time! If it must be, it must."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV.
-
-"DRAW SWORDS!"
-
-
-Another night had come--'twas already dark--and Juan and I sat on our
-horses in the cork wood, at the end of which we could hear the Minho
-swirling along beneath the ramshackle bridge that divided Portugal
-from Spain. And, as good fortune would have it, there was on this, the
-Portuguese side, no _guarda frontéra_ whatever. Perhaps that poor,
-impoverished land thought there was naught to guard from ingress, also
-that nothing would be brought from Spain to them. The traffic set all
-the other way!
-
-Because there was no need for us to be too soon where we were now;
-indeed, because 'twas not well that we should be here ere nightfall,
-the landlord had not awakened me until nine in the morning. And then,
-on his doing so, I perceived that the other sheepskin-clad bed by my
-side had not been occupied at all. Wherefore I started up in some
-considerable fright, calling out to him through the door to know where
-was my friend, the young seńor, whom I had left warming himself at the
-great fire below over night, and saying that he would follow me to bed
-ere long.
-
-"Oh! he is below," he replied. "Has passed the night in front of the
-fire wrapped in his cloak, saying that 'twas there alone he could keep
-himself from death by the cold. He bids me tell you all is well for
-your journey, the horses fresh; also there is a good meal awaiting
-you"; whereon I performed my ablutions, hurried on my garments and
-rapidly made my way to the public room below.
-
-"Juan," I said, "you should have warned me of your intention of
-remaining below. This is not good campaigning, nor comradeship. Had I
-awakened in the night and found you missing, I should have descended
-to seek for you, fearing that danger had come to you, and 'tis not
-well for travellers to be aroused unnecessarily from their beds on
-winter nights. Also we should keep always together. Soldiers--and you
-have to be one now!--on dangerous service should not separate."
-
-"Forgive," he said, as, it seemed, he was always saying to me, and
-uttering the words in his accustomed soft, pleading voice. "Forgive.
-But--oh! Mervan!" pausing a moment as though seeking for some excuse
-for having deserted me for the night--"oh! Mervan! that bed was so--so
-filthy and untempting. And the room so cold, when without fire. And it
-was so warm here. I could not force myself to leave this room."
-
-Remembering what he had said about those who came from the tropics
-dreading cold and discomfort even more than death, I thought I
-understood how he should have preferred sleeping here to doing so
-above. Therefore, I merely said:
-
-"There might be worse beds than that you would not use--may be worse
-for us ere long. Still, no matter. You slept warm here as I did
-upstairs. Yet 'tis well I did not waken. Now let us see for breakfast
-and our departure," and giving a glance at the landlord, who was
-bringing in a sort of thick soup in which I saw many dried raisins
-floating, also some eggs and coarse black bread, as well as some
-chocolate which smelt mighty good and diffused a pleasing aroma
-through the room, I tapped my waistcoat pocket to remind him of the
-other doubloons that were in it. And he nodded understandingly.
-
-The journey to where we now stood this evening was as uneventful as
-though we had been traveling in safety in our own England. The road
-into which the man had put us in the morning led first of all through
-countless villages--I have since heard that in all Europe there is no
-land so thickly sown with villages as this poor one of Portugal--then
-trailed off into a dense chestnut-fringed track that was no longer a
-road at all.
-
-And now we knew that we were close unto the spot where our first
-adventure on the journey, that we hoped might at last bring us to
-Flanders, must of necessity take place. We were but half an hour's
-ride from the crazy bridge the man had spoken of as connecting his
-country with Spain--the bridge on the other side of which was the
-rocky path, with, at the top of it, the hut in which we should find
-two Spanish _guardas frontéras_ armed to the teeth and prepared to bar
-the way to all who could not show their right to pass.
-
-Yet we were resolved to pass--or leave our bodies there.
-
-"There is," the landlord had said, "a holy stone at the spot where the
-path leading to the bridge enters the cork wood. You cannot mistake
-it. Upon that stone is graven the Figure, beneath it an arrow pointing
-the way to Melagasso. Your path lies to the left and thus to the
-bridge. God keep you."
-
-We left that stone as he had directed, with one swift glance
-upward at those blessed features--I noticing Juan crossed himself
-devoutly--slowly over fallen leaves that lay sodden on the earth
-beneath their mantle of snow, and over dried branches blown to the
-earth, our horses trod. And so for a quarter of an hour we pursued our
-way, while still the night came on swifter and swifter until, at last,
-we could scarce see each other's forms beneath the thick foliage above
-our heads.
-
-Yet we heard now that swirling, rushing river--heard its murmur as it
-swept past its banks, and its deep swish as it rolled over what was
-doubtless some great boulder stone out in the stream--heard, too, its
-hum as it glided by the supports of the bridge that we knew was before
-us. Also, we saw above our heads a light gleaming--a light that we
-knew must come from the frontiermen's house.
-
-And we had to steal up to where that light twinkled brightly, in what
-was now the clear, frosty air, since the snow had ceased--indeed, had
-not fallen all day--and all was clear overhead; to steal up, and then,
-if might be, make our hasty rush past on our horses' backs, or stay to
-cross steel and exchange ball with those who barred our way.
-
-"Forward to the bridge!" I whispered to Juan, fearing that even from
-where we were my voice might be borne on the clear night air up to
-that height. "Loosen, also, your blade in its sheath! And your
-pistols, too--are they well primed?"
-
-"Yes," he whispered back, his voice soft and low as a woman's when she
-murmurs acknowledgment of her love. "Yes."
-
-"You do not fear?"
-
-"I fear nothing--we are together," and, as he spoke, I felt the long,
-slim, gloved hand touch mine.
-
-A moment later we had left the shadow of the wood; we stood above the
-sloping bank of the river rushing by; another moment and our horses'
-feet would be upon the wooden bridge--its creaking quite apparent to
-our ears as the stream swept under it.
-
-"'Tis God's mercy," I whispered again to him, "that the river is so
-brawling; otherwise the horses' hoofs upon these boards would be heard
-as plain as a musket's roar. Ha! I had forgotten!"
-
-"Forgotten what, Mervan?" the gentle voice of Juan whispered back.
-"Forgotten what?"
-
-"If they should neigh! If there should be any of their kind up there!"
-and as I spoke, as the thought came to me, I felt as though I myself
-feared.
-
-"Pray God they do not; yet, if they do, it must be borne." And now I
-noticed his voice was as firm as though he had experienced a hundred
-such risks as this we were running. Then he added: "The Indians muffle
-theirs with their serapes when they draw near a foe. Shall we do
-that?"
-
-"No," I answered, "'tis too late. Let's on. Yet, remember, at the
-slowest pace. Thus their hoofs will fall lighter." And again I
-exclaimed: "Thank God, the river drowns their clatter!"
-
-Yet, a moment later, and I had cause for further rejoicing. From above
-where that light twinkled there came a sound of singing--a rich, full
-voice a-trolling of a song, with another voice joining in.
-
-Or was there more than one voice joining in? If so, we might have more
-than the old man and the young one, of whom the landlord had spoken,
-to encounter. Almost directly Juan confirmed my dread.
-
-"There are half a dozen there," he said, very calmly. "I know enough
-of music to recognise that. What to do now?"
-
-"To go on," I answered. "See, we are across the bridge--there is the
-road--in another moment we shall be ascending the path. Praise heaven,
-we can ride abreast."
-
-And in that other moment we were riding abreast slowly up that path,
-the snow that lay on it deadening now the sound of the horses' hoofs,
-while the voices within helped also to silence them.
-
-"I know the song," Juan whispered--and I marvelled at his
-calmness--his! the youth's who had been so nervous when there was
-naught to fear, yet who now, when danger was close upon him, seemed to
-fear nothing--"have sung it myself. 'Tis 'The Cid's Wedding.'"
-
-"'Twill not be songs about weddings that they will be engaged on," I
-said, "if any come out of that hut during the next ten minutes; but
-rather screeches of death--from us or them. Have your sword ready,
-Juan, also your pistols."
-
-"They are ready," he said. "Yet what to do? Suppose any come forth ere
-we are past the door, over the frontier. Am I to ride straight through
-them--are we to do so?"
-
-"Ay. Sit well down in your saddle, give your nag his head, and--if any
-man impedes your way, stand up in your stirrups, cut down straight at
-him, or, if yours is not a cutting sword, thrust straight at the
-breast of--Ha!"
-
-My exclamation--still under my breath, since my caution did not desert
-me--was caused by what now met our eyes, namely, the opening of some
-door giving on to the road in front of where the frontier cabin stood;
-the gleaming forth into that road of a stream of light, and then the
-coming out from the hut and the mingling of some four or five figures
-of men in the glare.
-
-Now, when this happened, we had progressed up the hillside road
-two-thirds of the way, so that we were not more than seventy paces, if
-as much, from where those people were; yet, as I calculated, even at
-this nearness to them, we might still, if all went well, escape
-discovery. For we were under the shelter of the shelving rock which
-reared itself to our left hands, and not out in the middle of the
-road, which was here somewhat broad; and, therefore, to the darkness
-of the night was added the still deeper darkness of the rock's
-obscurity. And, I reflected, 'twas scarce likely any would be coming
-our way from this party, which was evidently breaking up, since the
-Portuguese and Spaniards did not, I thought, fraternise very much.
-'Twas not very probable any would be returning our way. Consequently,
-I deemed that we were safe, or almost so; that, soon, some of those in
-the road would take themselves off, and would leave behind in the hut
-none but the old man and the young man of whom the landlord had
-spoken. Nay, more, a glance down the road in the direction of where we
-were would, in the darkness of the night, reveal nothing of our
-whereabouts. And I conveyed as much to Juan by a pressure of my hand,
-yet leaning forward, too, over to his side and whispering:
-
-"All the same, be ready. It may come to a rush. If one of our horses
-neighs or shakes itself--so much as paws the earth--if a bridle
-jangles--we are discovered."
-
-And a glance from those bright eyes--I protest, I saw them glisten in
-the darkness of the starlit night!--told me that he had heard and
-understood. Told me, also, that he was ready. After that--after those
-whispered words of mine, that responsive glance of his--we sat as
-still as statues on our steeds, hardly allowing our breath to issue
-from our lungs--watching--watching those figures.
-
-God! would they never separate? Would not some depart and the others
-retire into the cabin and shut the door against the cold wintry night?
-Offer us the opportunity to make one turn of the wrist on our reins,
-give one pressure of our knees to the animals' flanks and dash up the
-remains of the ascent and past the hut ere those within could rush out
-and send a bullet after us from fusil, gun or musketoon?
-
-At last they gave signs of parting--we heard the _buenas noches_ and
-the _adiós_ issuing from those Spanish throats; we saw two of the
-men--their forms blurred and magnified in the outstreaming rays of the
-lamp--clasp each other's hands; we knew that they were saying farewell
-to one another. And then--curse the buffoon!--and then, when they had
-even parted and two had turned toward the door to re-enter, and the
-others had taken their first steps upon the road forward--then, I say,
-one of these latter turned back, made signs to all the others, and,
-when he had fixed their attention, began to dance and caper about in
-the road, imitating for the benefit of his friends, as I supposed,
-some dance or dancer he had lately seen.
-
-From the lips of my doubtless high-strung companion there came a
-long-drawn breath; almost I could have sworn I heard the soft murmur
-of a smothered Spanish oath; and then once more those whom we watched
-parted from each other--the buffoonery was over, the imitation, if it
-was such, finished. Again, with laughs and jokes, they broke up and
-separated.
-
-"Our chance is at hand, at last!" I whispered.
-
-Was it?
-
-The others--those going away--had disappeared round a bend of both
-rock and road; the two left behind were retiring into their house
-when, suddenly, the last one stopped, paused a moment, put up his hand
-to his head as though endeavouring to recall something, then put out
-his other hand, seemed to grasp a lantern from inside the door, and,
-slowly, began a moment later to descend the road where we sat our
-steeds.
-
-And now we were discovered beyond all doubt; in a moment or so he
-would perceive us; another, and he would challenge us; would shout
-back to his comrade in the hut--perhaps call loud enough to attract
-the attention of his departing friends. We should be shot down, our
-horses probably hamstrung, we brought to earth, prisoners or dead.
-
-"Swords out!" I said to Juan, "and advance. Quick, put your horse to
-the canter at once; ride past him--over him if need be."
-
-A moment later and we had flashed by the astonished man, the jennet
-that bore Juan springing up the hill like a cat, my own bony but
-muscular steed alongside; behind us we heard his roars; an instant
-after the ping of a bullet whistled by my ears, fired at us by the
-other one in the hut as we advanced; another moment and he was
-out in the road, endeavouring to swing a wooden gate, that hung
-on hinges attached to the cabin, across the road. Also, which was
-worst of all, we heard answering calls from the men who had gone on
-ahead--tramplings and shouts--we knew that they were coming back to
-help.
-
-But we were at the gate now, and still it was not shut, there wanted
-yet another yard or so ere its catch would meet the socket post, and,
-shifting my reins into my sword hand, I seized its top bar,
-endeavouring to bear it back by the combined weight of my horse and
-myself upon the man striving to shut it.
-
-Then I heard the fellow at the gate call out something of which I
-understood no word, heard Juan give a reply with--who would have
-believed it of him at this moment--a mocking laugh; heard the word,
-_Inglese_; knew intuitively that he had told them who and what we
-were, and had defied them.
-
-And also, as I divined all this, I saw that the other men had
-returned, had reached the gate and were lending their assistance to
-aid in its being barred against us.
-
-It was war time, as I had said before; I took heart of grace in
-remembering this, and I set to work to hew my way, even though I
-killed all who opposed me, toward the distant goal I sought. One
-brawny Spaniard who, even as he lent his whole weight to the gate,
-drew forth a huge pistol, I cut down over those bars, he falling all
-a-heap in the road; another I ran through the shoulder; and I saw the
-steel of Juan's lighter sword gleam like a streak of lightning betwixt
-the upper and the second bar; I heard the third man who had come back
-give a yell of pain as it reached him, while a pistol he had just
-fired fell to the ground--he falling a moment later on top of it.
-
-And now there was but the original man left at the gate, and still it
-was not shut! Wherefore I brought the whole strength and power of my
-body to force it back so that there should be room for us to pass.
-
-Yet, even as I did so, I had to desist, for from behind, I heard Juan
-shout:
-
-"Mervan, Mervan, help me!" and on looking round I saw that the jennet
-was riderless. Saw also, that he was down, that the man who had begun
-to descend the hill was wrestling with him on the ground, and that, as
-they struggled together, both were rolling over toward the lower part
-of the precipice or rock side, which hung perpendicularly above the
-swift flowing river.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI.
-
-THE FIRST FIGHT.
-
-
-In a moment I, too, was off my horse--had tied it and the jennet's
-reins together--and had flung myself on the man--a big, brawny fellow
-who had one arm around Juan's body while, with his disengaged hand, he
-felt for a knife in his girdle.
-
-Even as I did so I saw that they were both perilously near the edge of
-the rock which hung over the river, that in a few more moments both
-must have gone over it--over and down, crashing through bushes and
-shrubs until they fell into that rapid stream below, or were hurled on
-to the timbers of the crazy bridge, with, probably, their bones broken
-all to pieces.
-
-Yet, small as was the space left in which a third man might intervene,
-be sure I lost no time in doing so, in flinging myself upon that
-muscular Spaniard and in tearing him off his prey. Seizing him by
-the collar of his jacket, one hand around his throat, I dragged him
-from the boy--for I was as muscular as he, and, maybe, younger,
-too--wrenched him to his feet and sent him reeling back into the road.
-
-"Catch the horses," I said to Juan, "quick. And mount yourself. Be
-ready. Once I have disposed of this fellow there remains none but the
-one at the gate."
-
-And, although the lad tottered as he rose to his feet, he did as I
-bade him, and, securing the animals, which had but backed a few paces
-down the road, got into his saddle again. Then he said--though
-faintly: "I will go forward and dispose of the remaining man."
-
-Yet there was still this one to be disposed of--and I understood at a
-glance that I had no easy task before me ere I could do so.
-
-He was a fellow of great bulk--this I could observe in the light of a
-watery half moon that now peeped up over the bend of the rock by where
-the cabin stood; also he was well armed. In his hand he held now a
-long cavalry sword, which he had drawn from its steel scabbard with a
-clash even as he staggered back against the rock; with his other hand
-he fumbled at the silken sash around his waist, in which was the knife
-he had endeavoured to draw against Juan.
-
-In God's mercy, he had no pistol!
-
-He muttered some hoarse words--to me they conveyed little--yet no
-words were needed. I knew as well as though he had spoken my own
-tongue that one of three things must happen now: That great inch-deep
-blade either buried in my heart or my head cleft open with it, or my
-straight English weapon through and through him!
-
-Then we set to it.
-
-As animals which are bereft of speech fight, so we fought now--only
-more warily. For they fly at each other's throats, in a moment are
-locked in each other's grasp, their fangs deep in the other's flesh.
-It was not so with us. We had not to come too close, but rather to
-guard and feint, to avoid each other till the moment, the one critical
-and supreme moment, came. Thus we began.
-
-At first, perhaps, because of the deadly weight of his blade--better
-for cut than thrust--he aimed twice at my head, and tried again a third
-time, then jumped back with another of his--to me--unintelligible hoarse
-and raucous exclamations; for, at that attempt, I had quickly--ay! and
-easily, too--parried the blow, had disengaged my weapon, and, with a
-rapid thrust, had nearly struck home--had missed the inside of his ribs
-by an inch only. Then knew that the next time I should not fail.
-
-"Curse you," I muttered, "if I could speak your _patois_, I'd tell you
-that you are doomed." While to myself I said: "He is a clumsy fool,
-and--he is mine."
-
-We had turned in these passadoes, as I drove him back; so, too, I had
-edged him round. Now, 'twas I who had the rock behind me, 'twas he who
-had the declivity of the lower precipice behind him.
-
-And he knew it as well as I--saw in a moment all that this meant,
-and--endeavoured to turn again.
-
-Yet he never had the chance. Trust me for that!--as my recollection of
-the daily lessons in the fence school at Hounslow, which for a year
-Dutch William's best _ferrailleurs_ had taught me ere my father got my
-guidon for me.
-
-He never had the chance! Yet he strove hard for it, too; proved that
-Spain made no bad choice when she sent him to this frontier post;
-strove hard to beat me round again, to bring my back in the position
-his was--to the lip of the plateau--and failed.
-
-If I could have spoken to him in his _patois_--for 'twas scarce
-Spanish--if I could have made him understand, if he would have
-discontinued his contest with me, I would have spared him, and
-willingly; would have bidden him let me go in peace, and be saved
-himself. For he was a brave man; too good a one for the doom that must
-now be his. Yet he forced me to it, forced me to go on, ceased not for
-one instant his swinging blows and thrusts, forced me to parry and
-thrust in turn for my own salvation--to drive him back step by step to
-the brink of the precipice behind him. And, now, it was not five paces
-behind him.
-
-His was the danger--I wondered if he knew it--yet mine the horror.
-Above the clashing of our swords I heard now the dull, hoarse roaring
-of the river below, heard its angry swish as it struck past the
-timbers of the bridge below--in my desire to save him I told him madly
-in my best Spanish to desist--to save himself. Also, I think, he saw
-upon my face some look of horror at the fate that must be his, some
-beads of sweat, perhaps, upon it, too--I know I felt them there--saw
-them, and--God help him!--misunderstood them. Misunderstood, and
-thought my look of horror, my sweat, were for my own safety.
-
-With a leap, a roar, he came at me again like a tiger springing at its
-prey, his blows raining upon my sword; almost I thought that even now
-he would have borne me to the earth, have conquered. And I thrust
-blindly, too, in desperation, knew that my blade was through his arm,
-saw him jump back, stagger--and disappear!
-
-And up from below where he had last stood there came a scream of awful
-fear and terror, the branches and the bushes crashed, there was a thud
-upon the water a hundred feet below--and then nothing more but the
-swirl of the river and its hoarse murmur as it swept along.
-
-It had not taken much time in the doing. A moment later I was running
-up the road to where the gate stood, swung back now so that the road
-was clear. And Juan was sitting on his horse, a pistol in his hand,
-and in the road, standing beneath him, his hands by his side, stood
-the last remaining man, dreading to move, palsied with fright, and
-speechless.
-
-"What shall we do with him?" the youth asked, turning on me a face in
-which there was now left no vestige of that brilliant colour it had
-once borne. "What? Kill him?" and his eyes flashed ominously, so that
-I knew the lust for blood was awakened.
-
-"Nay," I said. "Nay. There is no need for that. Bind him and lock him
-up here in his hut. That will do very well. Also, he is old. What of
-these others?" and I turned to those who lay in the road.
-
-As I looked at them, it seemed that none were hurt to death--for which
-I was thankful enough, since a soldier needs but to disable his enemy,
-and seeks not to take life needlessly. The one whom I had first cut
-down seemed to have but a scalp wound--doubtless the thick, coarse hat
-of felt he wore had turned my blade; he whom I had run through the
-shoulder had but a flesh wound, which would trouble him for some weeks
-at most; while the fellow whom Juan had pinked had got an ugly gash in
-the neck.
-
-"We will put them all in here together," I said, pointing to their
-hut, "then leave them. Doubtless they will be relieved in some hours.
-Yet the longer ere it happens the better. We must press on and on till
-we are well clear of this part of the world. There will be a hue and
-cry."
-
-After saying which, I proceeded to drag the wounded men in--one of
-them was able to enter the place unaided, though not without many
-melancholy groans and ejaculations--and then motioned to the old man
-to follow.
-
-But now, obeying me even as I so pointed to the door, he cast an
-imploring glance at Juan, and then muttered something to him, the boy
-answering him with a laugh. And on my demanding to know what he had
-said, my companion replied:
-
-"He saw you take up the lamp. Therefore he asked if you were going to
-burn them all when they were locked in the hut."
-
-"Humph!" I said. "It has not quite come to that."
-
-Time was, however, precious now, therefore it was useless for us to
-remain here any longer, or to waste any more of it; whereon, again
-taking up the lamp, I carried it out into the road. Then I removed the
-key from where it hung by the side of the door, and, going out, locked
-them all inside.
-
-"Now," I said, "they can remain there till some one comes by to set
-them free. Yet, if that some one comes across from Portugal, and our
-late landlord speaks truth, they will be in no hurry to do that
-friendly office for them." After which I blew out the lamp, and,
-walking to the edge of the under precipice, hurled both it and the key
-down into the river beneath.
-
-For some time after we had set out upon our journey again we rode in
-silence, Juan being as much occupied, I supposed, with his thoughts as
-I with mine. And, indeed, my own were none of the pleasantest; above
-all I regretted that that brave man with whom I had fought had gone to
-his doom. For, although killing was my trade, and although I had
-already taken part in several skirmishes and fights, I had none too
-great a liking for having been obliged to slay him. Yet I consoled
-myself with the reflection that it was his life or mine, and with that
-I had to be content. But also there were other things that troubled
-me, amongst them being what I feared would prove certain, namely, that
-there would be that hue and cry after us of which I had spoken for
-some time at least, and until we had left the frontier far behind.
-Nor, since Lugo was but a short distance from this place, would it be
-possible for us to stop there even for so much as a night's rest. We
-must go on and on till we had outstripped all chance of being
-recognised as the two men who had forced themselves into a hostile
-country in the manner we had done.
-
-But now, breaking in on these reflections, I heard Juan's soft voice
-speaking to me, murmuring words of admiration and affection.
-
-"Mervan," he said, "if I liked you before--ay! from the very moment
-you stood outside the cabin door of _La Sacra Familia_ and bade me
-unlock it, and when the first sound of your voice told me I had naught
-to fear--I love you now. My life upon it! you are a brave man, such as
-I delight in seeing."
-
-I laughed a little at this compliment, yet soberly, too, for this was
-no time for mirth--also, I recognised clearly enough that every step
-the animals beneath us took brought us nearer to other dangers, by the
-side of which our recent adventure was but child's play--then
-answered:
-
-"And what of yourself, Juan? You have done pretty well, too, I'm
-thinking; go on like this, and you will be fitted to ride stirrup to
-stirrup with the most grim old blades of Marlborough's armies when we
-get to Flanders--if we ever do! I thought you nervous, to speak solemn
-truth; now I am glad to have you by my side."
-
-"Yet," said the boy, his face radiant with delight, as I saw when he
-turned it on me under the rays of the moon, "I was deathly sick with
-fear all the time. Oh! my God!" he cried suddenly, "what should I have
-done, what become of me, if you had been struck down?" Then added,
-anxiously, a moment later. "You are not wounded?"
-
-"Not a scratch. And you?"
-
-"Nor I, either. Yet I was so faint as I guarded that old man by the
-gate, that I doubted if I could sit the horse much longer; I should
-have fallen to earth, I do verily believe, had you not joined me when
-you did."
-
-"Poor lad," I said, "poor lad. You have chosen but a rough road, a
-dangerous companion. You should have gone to England in the
-_Pembroke_, with the fleet. You would have been half way there by now,
-and in safety."
-
-"Never!" he said. "Never!" And, as if to give emphasis to his words,
-he turned round in his saddle toward me, placing his left hand on the
-cantle as though to obtain a steady glance of my face, and continued.
-
-"I told you we were friends, sworn friends and true. Also, that to be
-together was all that I asked. Mervan, our friendship is rivetted,
-bound, now; nothing but death or disaster shall part us--nothing; till
-at least, this journey is concluded. Then--then--if you choose to turn
-me off you may; but not before. You have not yet learnt, do not know
-yet, what a Spanish--a--a man reared amongst Spaniards feels when he
-swears eternal friendship."
-
-After which he regained his position and rode on, looking straight
-between his horse's ears. But once I heard him mutter to himself,
-though still not so low, either, but what I heard it very well:
-
-"Friendship. _Diôs!_"
-
-And this warm, fervent youth, this creature full of emotion and
-glowing friendship, was him against whom the admiral had expressed
-some distaste when he learned that I proposed to ride in his company;
-had doubted if that companionship might not be of evil influence over
-my fortunes during the journey. If he knew nothing, what did it all
-mean? I asked myself. Above all (and this I had pondered on again and
-again, though without being able to arrive at any answer to the
-riddle), why warn me against one whom he, when brought into contact
-with that one himself, had treated with such scrupulous deference?
-
-Even as I thought again upon these things I resolved that as our
-acquaintance, our friendship and comradeship ripened, I would ask Juan
-who and what he was.
-
-For at present I knew no more than I have written down--that he was
-young and handsome, and was well to do. But beneath all, was there
-some mystery attached to him? Some mystery which the older and more
-far seeing eyes of Sir George had been able to pry into and discover,
-while mine were still blinded to it?
-
-We were passing now through a wild and desolate region, a portion of
-the western extremity of northern Spain, in which we met no sign of
-human life or human habitation, hardly, indeed, any sign of animal
-life. Also we had struck a chain of mountains densely clothed with
-cork and chestnut woods, the trees of which were bare of leaves, and
-through the branches of which the wind moaned cheerlessly. On our left
-these mountains, after an interval of barren moorland, rose
-precipitously; to our right the Minho rolled sullenly along, the road
-we traversed lying between it and the moor. So desolate, indeed, was
-all around us now that we might have been two travellers from another
-world journeying through this, a forgotten or undiscovered one; no
-light either far or near twinkled from hut or cottage, neither bark of
-dog nor low of cattle reached our ears; all was desolate, silent and
-deserted.
-
-Yet, even as the road lifted so that we knew we were ascending those
-mountains step by step, we observed signs which, added to the well
-kept state of the road itself, told us it was not an altogether unused
-one. For though the snow lay hard and caked upon it, we could observe
-where it had taken the impression of cart wheels and of animals'
-hoofs, could perceive by this that it was sometimes traversed.
-
-And, presently, we observed something else, something that told us
-plainly enough that we were now in the direct way for Lugo, observed
-that there branched into the road we were travelling an even broader
-one than it--causing, too, our own road to broaden out itself as it
-ran further north; a road in the middle of which was a huge stone
-column or pedestal, with arms also of stone upon it, pointing
-different ways, and with, carved on them, words and figures.
-
-And of these arms one pointed west and bore upon it the words: To
-Vigo; another pointed north with, on it, the words: To Lugo.
-
-And seeing all this by the aid of a tinder box and lantern which we
-carried amongst our necessaries--seeing it, too, by craning our necks
-and standing up in our stirrups--we knew that we had now struck the
-route along which those must have come who had fled from Vigo after
-the taking of the galleons.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII.
-
-MY GOD! WHO IS HE?
-
-
-All that night we rode, yet slowly, too, for the sake of the horses,
-and in the morning--which broke bright, clear and frosty, the sun
-sparkling and shining gaily amongst the leafless branches and trees of
-the forests through which we passed--reached a little town, or
-village, about half way 'twixt the frontier and Lugo, a place called
-Chantada, and not far from another town named Orense, which, because
-it had a large population--as we gathered from a sight of its roofs
-and spires, all a-shining in the morning sun, as we could see very
-well from the mountains as we passed along them--we avoided. Also, we
-avoided it because it lay not so much upon our direct route, by some
-three or four leagues, as Chantada itself.
-
-"Now, come what may," said I to Juan, as we drew near this place, "and
-even though we should be pursued from the border--which is not very
-like--we must stop here for some hours. We require rest ourselves; as
-for the beasts, they must have it; otherwise they will have to be left
-behind and others found. And that would be a pity--they are better
-than might have been looked for!" As, indeed, they were, especially
-considering the haphazard manner in which we had come by them, both
-having kept on untiring on the road, while, as for the jennet which
-Juan bestrode, it was, possibly because of his light weight, as fresh
-as on the hour we set out.
-
-Then, turning to him, I said, even as I noticed that he showed no
-signs of fatigue--at which I marvelled somewhat!--and that his
-handsome face was as bright and full of colour as it had ever been:
-
-"You must be a-weary, Juan? Three or four hours' sleep will do you a
-world of good. And you shall have it, my lad, even though I sit at
-your door with a drawn sword in my hand to prevent interruption."
-
-As usual, he smiled that gracious, winsome smile upon me--a smile
-which was always forthcoming in response to any simple little kindness
-I evidenced to him--and said:
-
-"I could ride on for hours thus--feel no fatigue. Maybe 'tis the
-brightness of the morning that heartens me so; perhaps the crisp
-coolness of these mountains--Heavens! how different 'tis from aught we
-know of in the Indies!--that makes me insensible to it! Yet, Mervan,"
-and he gave me a glance from his eyes, under the dark and now
-dishevelled curls that hung almost over them, "there is one thing I
-long to do now. Mervan, do not refuse. I have earned the right!"
-
-"What is it, child?" I asked, wondering what strange request he might
-be about to prefer.
-
-"Let me sing and play a little. 'Twill do no harm, and--and--you
-know--the viol is here," and he touched lightly the valise strapped in
-front of his saddle.
-
-"Sing, if you will," I said, yet casting a glance around and ahead of
-me to see if there were any about whose curiosity might be attracted
-by the music--though in sober truth it would not much have mattered
-had there been. In such a land as this--though I scarce knew it
-then!--for a traveller to pass along on his way singing for
-cheerfulness and for solace was no strange thing, but rather, instead,
-the custom. "Sing, if you wish--I shall be glad enough to hear a merry
-note or so. For audience, however, there will be no other."
-
-"I want none," he replied, "if you are content." And by now, having
-got out the little viol d'amore, he struck a few notes upon it and
-began to sing.
-
-At first his song was, as I understood and as he told me afterward, a
-love-ballad addressed by a youth to his mistress; the words--as he
-uttered them--soft and luscious as the trill of the nightingale on
-summer night. And his marvellous beauty added also to the effect it
-had on me, made me wonder how many dark, tropic beauties in the lands
-he came from had already lost their hearts to him. Nay, wondered so
-much that, as the last sweet tones of both his voice and viol died
-upon the crisp morning air, I asked him a question to that effect.
-
-"Ho! Ho!" he laughed, yet softly as he had just now sung. "None! None!
-None! In the Indies I am nothing; all are as dark as I except when
-they are golden--fair--and--and--Mervan, _mon ami_, no woman has ever
-said a word of love to me."
-
-"Humph!" I said, doubting. "Nor you, perhaps, a word of love to them."
-
-"Nor I a word of love to them. Never, never. _Le grand jamais!_"
-
-"Nor ever loved?" with a tone of doubt so strong in my voice now that
-he could not fail to understand it.
-
-"Nor ever loved," he repeated. "Yes--yes--I love now. Now!" Then,
-impetuously, as he ever spoke--like a torrent let loose from mountain
-side--he went on:
-
-"Love! Love! Love! With heart and soul, and brain on fire. Love! so
-that for the creature I adore--have learnt to worship, I would--ah!
-what would I not do? Cast my body beneath that creature, plunge
-through fire or water--Oh!" he exclaimed, breaking off as suddenly as
-he had begun, "Oh! I am a fool! A fool! A fool!"
-
-"But, surely," I said, "surely, with such as you are, that love does
-not go unrequited. If you have spoken to the object of this passion,
-told of this love you say you bear--and are believed--it must be
-returned. Such love as yours would not be simulated, must therefore be
-appreciated."
-
-"Simulated!" he exclaimed. "Simulated. It cannot be simulated, not
-assumed like a mountebank's robe ere he plays a part. Any one can
-paint a flame, any tawdry daubster of an inn signboard, but not even
-Murillo himself could paint the heat. And my love is heat--not--not
-flame."
-
-"And the lady? The lady?" I asked almost impatiently. "Surely she
-does--she must--return this love."
-
-Volatile as he was, and, changing his mood again in a moment, he
-looked slyly at me under the dark locks, twanged the viol again and
-burst into another song, different from the one he had but recently
-finished, the song which I had previously known him to sing:
-
-
- "Oh! have you heard of a Spanish lady,
- How she wooed an Englishman?"
-
-
-"I am an Englishman now, you know, Mervan," interrupting the song.
-Then going on:
-
-
- "Garments gay and rich as may be,
- Decked with jewels, she had on."
-
-
-"Did she woo you, then?" I asked, as he paused a moment.
-
-For answer he sang again:
-
-
- "As his prisoner fast he kept her,
- In his hands her life did lie;
- Cupid's bands did tie them faster
- By the twinkling of an eye----"
-
-
-He stopped abruptly and pointed ahead of him with the little viol,
-then wrapped it up again in his valise and said:
-
-"See, _amígo_, there is the village--what was its name cut on the
-pedestal? Now what are we? Eh? And whence come we if any questions are
-asked?"
-
-"You are a young Spanish gentleman," I said, repeating a lesson I had
-hitherto in our ride tutored him in, "from Vigo. I am a Frenchman. We
-are on our way to Bayonne to join the French forces. Also, we neither
-of us know English."
-
-"_Bon, pas un mot_," he replied, catching me up brightly. "_Et nous
-parlons Anglais comme une vache parle Espagnol. N'est-ce fas, mon
-ami?_"
-
-"_C'est ça. En avant_," I replied, and with a laugh we each touched
-our horses with the heel and cantered down into the village of
-Chantada.
-
-'Twas a poor place enough for any travellers to see, consisting of a
-long, but very wide street, with a fountain in the midst of a wide
-open square, around which there lay a number of grunting swine--lean
-and repulsive--and also some score or so of geese, all basking in the
-morning sun.
-
-Yet next in importance to the church, which was on one side of this
-_plaza_, was that which we most sought for, an inn, and, perhaps
-because of the road being one of importance 'twixt both Portugal and
-Vigo to France, it was a large, substantial-looking house, long, and
-with many rooms on either side the great porte, as well as in the two
-stories beneath its sloping and serrated Spanish roof; also, it looked
-prosperous--a huge gilt coronet hung out over the unpaved street. For
-name it had painted along all its front, the words "Taverna Duquesa
-Santa Ana."
-
-Under the great archway we rode in, seeing that in a vast courtyard
-there stood a travelling coach on which, although there were no horses
-attached to it, some baggage was still left piled up beneath some
-skins; hearing also the stamping of several horses in their stables.
-
-"Ask," said I to Juan, speaking in French--as agreed between us, there
-was to be no more English spoken unless we were certain no ears could
-overhear us--"ask if we can be accommodated for some hours, say, until
-night. Then we must resume our journey. Ask that."
-
-Obedient to my behest, the youth turned to a man who came out from the
-door giving entrance to the inn itself and, in Spanish, made his
-demand, whereupon the fellow, after bowing politely, said:
-
-"There is ample accommodation for--for more--alas!--than travel these
-roads."
-
-Then, because I addressed a word or so in French to him, he continued
-in that language, which, however, he had exceedingly badly:
-
-"Messieurs will stay here till night, then push on to Lugo? _Bon_,
-they will be there by morning. So! So! Yes, in verity, they can have a
-good meal. There are geese, fowls, meat, also some wine of excellence.
-Messieurs may refresh themselves in all ways."
-
-Our horses put in the stable, therefore, we sat down half an hour
-later in a vast _sala_--in which a great banquet might have been given
-with ease--to a dish of veal, a fowl, and an _olla-podrida_, all of
-which would have been good enough had they not been flavoured so much
-with garlic that--to my taste, at least--all pleasure was destroyed;
-also we had some most excellent chocolate and some good spirituous
-liquor to follow--at which latter Juan turned a wry face. Then
-ordering another meal to be ready ere we set out--with strict
-injunctions that the flavouring should on this occasion be omitted--we
-betook ourselves to the rooms above, where we were to get a few hours'
-rest.
-
-Yet, as we passed along the whitewashed corridor, the windows of which
-gave on to the stable yard, the travelling coach standing there caught
-our eyes, and I said to the host:
-
-"You have at least some one else here besides us. Some great
-personage, I should suppose, by his equipage," and I directed my
-glance to where the great carriage was.
-
-"Ho!" said the man with the true Spanish shrug of the shoulder, which
-is even more emphatic than the French one, more suggestive, as it
-seems to me; "a personage of wealth, I should say, but no grandee--of
-Spain, at least."
-
-"Of what land, then?" I asked. "And why a personage of wealth, yet no
-grandee?"
-
-"Oh! well, for that," the man said, with again the inimitable shrug,
-"his deportment, his conduct is not that which our nobility permit
-themselves. Though I know not--perhaps it may be so--he is a nobleman
-of--well--possibly, England. He drinks heavily--name of a dog! but he
-drinks like a fiend, _un enragé_--cognac, cognac, cognac--also he
-sings all the night, sometimes so that even the fowls and the dogs are
-awakened, also all our house. Yet he pays well--very well!"
-
-"Doubtless," I replied, quietly, "an English nobleman. Such is their
-custom, according to the ideas of other nations. Well, let us to
-rest," whereon Juan and I turned each into a room which the landlord
-indicated, and, so far as I was concerned, I slept calmly and
-peacefully until awakened by him at three of the afternoon.
-
-Now, when I descended to where our other repast was prepared for us,
-which would probably be the last one of a substantial nature which we
-should be likely to get ere reaching Lugo, I found Juan there walking
-up and down the great _sala_, his sword swishing about against his
-left leg as he turned backward and forward petulantly. Also, I could
-see that something had ruffled his usually sweet disposition--that
-his colour was a little higher than in general, and that the soft
-velvet-looking eyes were sparkling angrily.
-
-"Why, what is it?" I asked, even as the landlord brought in the first
-cover, "what is it, my boy? You are ruffled."
-
-"Be very sure I am!" he exclaimed, speaking rapidly, and of course in
-French, so that the man heard and understood all he said. "I have been
-insulted----"
-
-"Insulted!"
-
-"At least rebuffed, and rudely, too; and by, of all men, a filthy
-blackamoor--a--a--_por Diôs!_--a slave! Oh! that I had him in the
-Indies! He would insult no white one again, I tell you!" and he
-fingered the hilt of his weapon and stamped his shapely foot on the
-uncarpeted floor till his spurs jangled.
-
-"Come," I said, "you can afford to despise the creature. How did it
-happen?"
-
-"Happen! Happen!" Juan replied, still angry. "How?"
-
-"Monsieur saw the black man preparing the luggage on the great coach,"
-the landlord said, as he removed the dish-cover from a course of pork
-and raisins, "and asked which way his master went. And the fellow was
-surly, rude--said that was their business, not the affair of
-strangers. Also, they sought no companions, if--if the young seńor
-meant that----"
-
-"Who never offered our company," Juan broke in again. "Curse him! I
-wish I had him in the Indies!" he repeated.
-
-"Come," I said again, "come. This is beneath you, Juan--to be angry
-with a slave! As well be vexed with a dog that yaps and snaps at you
-when you go to pat it. Sit down and eat your meal. We have a long ride
-before us."
-
-Perhaps he saw some sense in my suggestion, for he flung himself into
-a chair and began to eat; and meanwhile the host, who was still
-hovering about, handing us now a dish of mutton dressed with oysters
-and pistachio nuts, and now some stewed pomegranates, chattered away
-at one side, telling us that the negro's master was not well--that he
-had been drinking again; but yet he was determined to set out at once.
-
-"Though," said he, "but an hour before the caballeros rode in he had
-resolved to stay until to-morrow. I know not why he has changed his
-mind so swiftly. Oh!--the drink, the drink, the drink!" and he wagged
-his head.
-
-That the dissolute man whom the landlord considered to be, in
-consequence, an English nobleman, was about to depart there could be
-no possibility of doubt. From where we sat at table, and because
-curtains to the windows seemed to be things of which those who kept
-the inn had never thought, we could see out into the courtyard quite
-plainly. Saw first the horses brought out--four of them--and harnessed
-to the huge, lumbering vehicle--the nobleman would have proved himself
-a kinder-hearted man if he had used six!--saw their cloths taken off
-their backs by the postillion, and observed the latter make ready to
-mount the near side leader. Also we saw the _facchinos_ on ladders
-strapping tight the baggage which had been brought down and hoisted on
-top, then heard the landlord, who had now left serving us to attend to
-his parting guest, give orders that the noble traveller should be
-informed that all was ready for his departure. Upon which we quitted
-our seats at the table and walked over to the window, Juan's curiosity
-much excited at the chance of seeing this drunken English _milor_, as
-he called him. We had not long to wait. For presently we heard a
-considerable trampling on the stairs and some mumbled words--to my
-surprise the deep, guttural tones seemed familiar!--and then we saw a
-wrapped figure carried out between two of the _facchinos_ and lifted
-up into the carriage.
-
-And behind that figure walked a negro, his head also enveloped in a
-rich red shawl--as though the black creature feared the cold night
-air, forsooth!
-
-But, even as they lifted the debauched man into his carriage, the
-wrappings about his face became disturbed and fell back on his
-shoulders, so that I could see his face--and I started as I did so.
-Started even more, too, when, a second later, I heard Juan exclaim in
-a subdued voice:
-
-"My God, who is he? Almost I could swear----"
-
-While in my excitement I interrupted him, saying:
-
-"That an English nobleman! That!--Why, 'tis the drunken old ruffian
-who came from Rotterdam with me in the ship."
-
-"And his name? His name?" Juan asked, breathlessly. "His name?"
-
-"John Carstairs."
-
-Even as I spoke the postillion cracked his whip, and the great
-carriage rolled out of the courtyard, the lamps twinkling and
-illuminating our faces as it passed before the window. Showed, too, as
-they flashed on Juan's face, that he was once more deathly pale and
-all his rich colouring vanished--as I had seen it vanish more than
-once before.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII.
-
-BETRAYED.
-
-
-"His name is Carstairs? Humph!" Juan said to me when the last sound of
-the wheels had died away, and we no longer heard the rumbling of the
-great Berlin upon the stones of the roughly paved street outside.
-"Carstairs!"
-
-"That is the name under which he was entered as a passenger in the
-papers of _La Mouche Noire_," I answered. Then continued, looking at
-the boy as a thought came to my mind. "Why! have you ever seen him
-before, Juan, or have you any reason to suppose it is anything else
-than Carstairs?"
-
-For the thought that had come to me, the recollection which had
-suddenly sprung to my mind, was the memory of the words Captain Tandy
-had used when first we discussed the old man. "'Tis no more his name
-than 'tis mine or yours."
-
-Also I recalled that he had said, after meditation, that he was more
-like to have been one Cuddiford than anybody else.
-
-And now it seemed as though this stripling who had become my
-companion, this boy whose years scarce numbered eighteen, also knew
-something of him--disbelieved that his name was Carstairs.
-
-"Do you think," I went on, "that it is something else? Cuddiford,
-say?"
-
-"Nay," he replied. "Nay. Not that. Not that. I have heard of
-Cuddiford, though. I think he was brought to London and tried.
-But--but--oh!" he exclaimed, breaking off, "it cannot be!"
-
-"What cannot be?"
-
-"If," he said, speaking very slowly, very gravely now, "if it were not
-eight years since I last set eyes on him, when I was quite a child; if
-he had a beard down over his chest instead of being close shaven, I
-should say, Mervan, that this was the ruffian I have come to England
-to seek; the villain who robbed me of the fortune my father left
-me--the scoundrel, James Eaton."
-
-"James Eaton!" I exclaimed. "The man you asked me about; thought I
-might be like to know?"
-
-"The same."
-
-"Had he, this Eaton, been a buccaneer? for I make no doubt
-that man has." I said. "The captain of _La Mouche Noire_ thought
-so--and--and--his ravings and deliriums seemed to point that way."
-
-"I know not," Juan said. "Eaton was a villain--yet--yet--I can scarce
-suppose my father would have trusted him with a fortune if he had
-known him to be such as that."
-
-"Who was your father, Juan?"
-
-"I--I," he answered, looking at me with those clear starry eyes--eyes
-into which none could gaze without marvelling at their beauty--"I do
-not know."
-
-"You do not know!--yet you know he bequeathed a fortune to you and
-left it in the man Eaton's hands."
-
-"Mervan," he said, speaking quickly, "you must be made acquainted with
-my history--I will tell it you. To-night, when we ride forth again;
-but not now. See, our horses are ready, they are bringing them from
-the stables. When we are on the road I will tell you my story. 'Twill
-not take long. Come, let us pay the bill, and away."
-
-"I will pay the bill," I said; "later we can regulate our accounts.
-And as you say, we had best be on the road. For if that old man has
-seen me, or if his black servant has done so--it--it--may be serious."
-
-"Serious!" he repeated. "Serious! For _you_, my friend?" And as he
-spoke there was in his voice so tender an evidence that he thought
-nothing of any danger which could threaten him, but only of what might
-befall me, that I felt sure, now and henceforth, of the noble,
-unselfish heart he possessed. "Oh! not serious for you."
-
-"Ay," I replied. "Ay. Precious serious! Remember, he knows I went
-ashore in Lagos bay, that I sailed in the English fleet to Vigo. What
-will happen, think you, if he warns them at Lugo that such a one as
-I--an Englishman--who assisted at the taking of the galleons, is on
-the road 'twixt here and there?"
-
-"My God!" the boy exclaimed, thrusting his hand through the curls
-clustering over his eyes--as he always did when in the least excited.
-"It might mean----"
-
-"Death," I said, "sharp and swift; without trial or time for shrift;
-without----"
-
-"But--whether he be Eaton--or--Carstairs--he is English himself."
-
-"Ay, and so he is." I answered, "But be sure he has papers--also he
-can speak Spanish well, will doubtless pass for a Spaniard. Also,
-unless I am much mistook, had a cargo in one of those galleons--for
-what else has he followed up here? For what--but the hopes of getting
-back some of the saved spoil which has been brought to Lugo? That
-alone would give him the semblance of being Spanish--would earn him
-sympathy. Meanwhile, what should I be deemed? A spy! And I should die
-the spy's death."
-
-"What then to do next?" Juan asked, with a helpless, piteous look.
-
-"There is but one thing for _me_ to do," I replied. "One thing alone.
-As I told you ere we set out from Viana, my task is to ride on
-straight, unerringly, to my goal--on to Flanders, through every
-obstacle, every barrier; to crash through them, if heaven permits, as
-Hopson crashed through that boom at Vigo--to reach Lord Marlborough or
-to fall by the wayside. That is my duty, and I mean to do it."
-
-"Mervan! Mervan!" he almost moaned.
-
-"'Tis that," I went on. "But--think not I say it unkindly, with lack
-of friendship or in forgetfulness of our new found _camaraderie_--for
-you the need does not exist."
-
-"What!"
-
-"Hear me, I say, Juan. I speak but for your safety. For you there is
-no duty calling; the risk does not exist. You are free--a traveller at
-your ease."
-
-"Silence!" he cried--his rich, musical voice ringing clear through the
-vast _sala_ in the midst of which we now stood once more; and as he
-spoke he raised his hand with a gesture of command. "Silence, I say!
-By the body of my dead and unknown father, you do not know Juan
-Belmonte. What! Set out with you and turn back at the first sign of
-danger, and that a danger to you alone! Oh!" he exclaimed, changing
-his tone again, emotional as ever. "Oh! Mervan, Mervan."
-
-"I spoke but for your sake," I said, sorry and grieved to see I had
-wounded him. "For that alone."
-
-"Then speak no more, never again in such a strain. I said I would
-never quit your side till Flanders is reached; no need to repeat those
-words. Where you go I go--unless you drive me from your side."
-
-And now it was my turn to exclaim against him, to cry: "Juan! you
-think I should do that!" Yet even as I spoke, I could not but add:
-"The danger to you as well as me may be terrible."
-
-"No more," he said. "No more. We ride together until the end
-comes--for one or both of us. Now, let us call the reckoning and
-begone. The horses are there," and he strode to the window and made a
-sign to the stable-man to be ready for us. Yet ere the landlord came,
-he spoke to me again.
-
-"Remember," he said, "that beyond our _camaraderie_, of which you have
-spoken--ay! 'tis that and more, far more--beyond all this, I do
-believe the old man whose face I saw as the great lamps shone full
-on it is James Eaton. I have come to Europe, to this cold quarter of
-the world, to find him. Do you think with him not half a league ahead
-that I will be turned from the trail? Never! I follow that man to
-Lugo--since his beard is gone I cannot pluck him by that, but I can
-take his throat in my hands, thrust this through his evil heart," and
-he rapped the quillon of his sword sharply as he spoke. Then added:
-"As I will. As I will."
-
-"You do not think he has recognised you, too? Seen you, though unseen
-himself, while we have been in this house, passing through these
-passages and corridors? as I doubt not either he saw me, or that negro
-of his."
-
-He thought a moment after I said this, then suddenly emerged from his
-meditation and laughed a bright, ringing laugh, such as I had learnt
-to love the hearing of.
-
-"Nay," he replied. "Nay," and still he laughed, "He has not--could not
-recognise me. No! No! No! When I present myself to him he--will--he
-will be astonished."
-
-And once more he laughed.
-
-What a strange creature it was, I thought. As brave as a young lion;
-as emotional and variable as a woman.
-
-In answer to our pealing at the bell, to our calls also, the
-landlord came in at last, not hurrying himself at all, as it seemed
-to us, to bring the bill. Indeed, we had observed him, as we looked
-forth from the window, engaged in a conversation with two of the
-townspeople--shrouded in the long cloaks which Spaniards wear--their
-heads as close together as if they were concocting a crime, though,
-doubtless, talking of nothing more important than the weather.
-
-"The bill," I said, "the bill. Quick. Our horses await us, and we have
-far to ride."
-
-"Ay," he replied. "Ay," and flinging down a filthy piece of paper on
-the table, added: "There is the bill"; and he stood drumming his
-fingers on the table while I felt for the coins with which to pay it.
-Yet, even as I did so, I noticed that the fellow's manner was quite
-changed from what it had been hitherto. His obsequiousness of the
-morning had turned to morose surliness, which he took no trouble to
-conceal. And, wondering if Juan, who was standing by, fastening his
-spur strap, had observed the same thing, I glanced at him and saw his
-eyes fixed on the man.
-
-"There are two pistoles," I said, flinging them on the table. "They
-will more than pay our addition; give the rest to the servants."
-
-"Ay!" he replied. "Ay!" but with no added word of thanks.
-
-"Is't not enough?" Juan asked.
-
-"It is enough." Then he turned to me and said: "You are riding to Lugo
-to-night?"
-
-"That is our road," I replied, feeling my temper mount at the man's
-changed manner. "What of it? Does that route displeasure you, pray?"
-
-"Ho!" he grunted; "for that, it makes no matter to me." Then added:
-"The horses are there," in so insolent a tone that I had a difficulty
-in restraining myself from kicking or striking him. But I remembered
-that, before all else, our safety had to be consulted, and that naught
-should be done to cause delay to our progress; wherefore, I swallowed
-my ire as best I might.
-
-Yet, as we rode out of the courtyard, I saw at once that Juan's own
-thoughts tended exactly in the same direction as mine, since he said
-to me:
-
-"That fellow has been told something by the old man--doubtless, that
-you are English--that we both are. _Por Diôs!_ Suppose he has informed
-him that you were in the English fleet!"
-
-"I have no doubt that the man has been told so," I replied. "But no
-matter. If it were not for you I should not care a jot."
-
-Then once more I saw the dark eyes turned on me, and wished that I had
-held my tongue--at least as regarded the latter part of my speech.
-
-It seemed as if the town had gone to bed already. The great square was
-deserted--except that the geese and pigs were still in it, huddled
-together around the fountain, and severally cackled and grunted as we
-trotted by them; down the long street, as we rode, we saw no signs of
-any one being outside the doors.
-
-Yet, as we neared the extremity of both the town and the street, and
-came to where the latter ended off into a country road stretching
-along a dreary-looking plain, over which the moon had risen, we saw
-that such was not precisely the case. At the end of the street, that
-which was the last building was a little, low, whitewashed chapel;
-above its black door there was a figure in a little niche, with,
-burning in front of it, a candle in a miserable red-glassed lantern;
-and, feeble as were the rays cast forth from this poor, yet sacred,
-lamp, they were sufficient to show us three men on horseback, all
-sitting their steeds as rigidly as statues.
-
-Judging by their long black cloaks and the tips of steel scabbards
-which protruded beneath them, and which were plainly enough to be
-seen, even in that dim, cloudy light, I imagined these men to be the
-town gendarmerie--though doubtless they had some other name to
-denominate them--and supposed this was a comfortable position which
-they probably selected nightly. Also, the position was at both an exit
-and an entrance to the place, therefore a natural one.
-
-"A fine night, gentlemen," one remarked, and next I heard him say
-something to Juan, which he replied to; in both of their remarks the
-name of Lugo being quite distinct to my ears. But, beyond this,
-nothing else passed, and, a few moments later, we were riding at a
-smart trot across the dreary, moor-like plain.
-
-"They asked," Juan said, in answer to my question, "if our destination
-was Lugo. That was all."
-
-"So I thought I heard," I said. And added: "Until we were past them I
-felt not at all sure they might not be on the lookout for us. Might,
-perhaps, intend to stop us. If Carstairs, or Eaton, or whatever his
-name is, blew upon me to the landlord, he would be as like to do it to
-the authorities also. However, we are in the open now, and all is well
-so far."
-
-By this time the moon was well up, and we could see the country along
-which we were riding; could perceive that 'twas indeed a vast open
-plain, with, however, as it seemed to me, a forest or wood ahead of
-us, into which the road we were on trended at last. Could see, too,
-the snow lying white all around, as far as the moor stretched, and
-looking beneath the moonbeams like some dead sea across which no ship
-was trying to find its way.
-
-"A mournful spot," I said to Juan, as, half an hour later, we had
-almost reached the entrance to the great forest, which we had observed
-drawing nearer to us at every stride our beasts took; "'tis well we
-made a full meal ere we set out. We are not very like to come across
-another ere we reach Lugo."
-
-I spoke as much to hearten up my companion as for any other reason,
-since I feared that, in spite of his bravery and firm-fixed
-determination to never leave my side, he must be very much alarmed at
-the thoughts of what might happen to us ere we had gone many more
-leagues.
-
-But, remarking that he made no answer to my idle words, I glanced
-round at him and perceived that his head was turned half way back
-toward whence we had come, and that upon his face was a look of
-intense eagerness--the look of one who listens attentively for some
-sound.
-
-"What is it, Juan?" I asked.
-
-"Horses' hoofs on the road behind us," he said, "and coming swiftly,
-too. Hark! do you not hear?"
-
-And even as he spoke I did hear them. Heard also something else to
-which my soldier's ears had made me very well accustomed: The clank of
-steel-scabbarded swords against horses' flanks.
-
-"It is the men we passed by the chapel," I said, "following us now.
-Yet, if 'tis us they seek, why not stop us ere we left the town? They
-could do as much against us there as here."
-
-"They were but three then," the lad answered, calmly as though he
-were counting guineas into his palm instead of the hoof-beats of those
-on-coming horses; "now there are more--half a dozen, I should say. If
-'tis us they follow, they have waited to be reinforced."
-
-And I felt sure that he had guessed right, since the very thought
-which he expressed had already risen in my own mind.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX.
-
-THE SECOND FIGHT.
-
-
-We had entered the forest five minutes later, and be very sure, we
-wasted no more time in waiting for those behind to come up, since, if
-'twas us they followed, we might as well be in its shadow as in the
-open. For if we were outnumbered the trees themselves would afford us
-some shelter, make a palisade from behind which we might get a shot at
-them if 'twas too hot for a hand-to-hand encounter. At any rate, I had
-sufficient military knowledge to know that 'tis best to fight against
-unequal odds with a base, or retreat, to fall back on, than to be
-without one.
-
-Yet as we rode into this forest I loosened my blade in its sheath, and
-felt with my thumb to see that the priming of my pistols was ready;
-also bade Juan do the same; likewise to keep behind me as much as
-might be.
-
-"For," said I, "if they mean attack I will give them no chance of
-beginning it. The first hostile word, and I force my horse between
-them, cutting right and left, and do you the same, following behind
-me. Thereby you may chance to take off those whom I miss."
-
-And I laughed--a little grimly, perhaps--as I spoke, for I thought
-that if there were, indeed, six men behind us, my journey toward
-Flanders was already as good as come to an end. Yet, all the same, I
-laughed, for, strange though it may seem to those who have never known
-the delights of crossed steel, a fight against odds had ever an
-exhilarating effect upon me; which was, perhaps, as it should be with
-a knight of the blade.
-
-Juan, however, did not laugh at all, though he told me he would follow
-my orders to the utmost, and, indeed, was so silent that I asked him
-if his nerves were firm. To which he replied that I should see when
-the moment came.
-
-And now upon the crisp night air we heard the clang of those on-coming
-hoofs ringing nearer and nearer; a rough or deadened kind of sound
-told us the iron shoes were on the fallen leaves which covered all the
-track from where the wood began; the scabbards of the riders flapped
-noisily now against spur and horses' flanks; bridles jangled very
-near.
-
-Then they were close upon us--five of them!--and a voice called out:
-
-"Halt, there! You are Englishmen--one a sailor and a spy passing
-through the land."
-
-"You lie!" rang out Juan's voice, in answer. "We are not Englishmen."
-
-That his reply in fluent Spanish--the Spanish, too, of a gentleman,
-and not of a common night patrol--astonished them, I could see. The
-leader, he who had spoken, glanced round at his four comrades, and, an
-instant after, spoke again:
-
-"Who are you, then, and why does not the big man answer?"
-
-"He speaks French. I am Spanish. Molest us not."
-
-"Molest! _Cuerpo di Baco!_ We are informed you are English. Produce
-your papers!"
-
-"We have none. They are lost."
-
-"Ho! ho! ho!" the leader replied. "Very well, very well. 'Tis as I
-thought. That man is English; he is denounced this night. As for you,
-the accursed English have many possessions wherein our tongue is
-spoken. We understand."
-
-And he gave, as I supposed, some order, since all advanced their
-animals a few paces nearer, while, as they did so, Juan whispered to
-me in the French: "Be ready, but do nothing yet."
-
-"You will return to Chantada with us," the spokesman said, sitting his
-horse quietly enough, yet with the blade of his drawn sword glistening
-in the moonbeams as it lay across the creature's neck--as, I observed,
-did the blades of all the others. "That finishes our affair. For the
-rest you will answer to the Regidór."
-
-"We shall not return. Our way lies on."
-
-"So be it. Then we must take you," and, as he spoke, I saw a movement
-of his knee--of all their knees--that told me they meant to seize us.
-
-And I knew that the time had come.
-
-"At them!" cried Juan at the same moment. "Advance, Mervan!"
-
-A touch to the curb, and my beast fell back--'twas a good animal,
-that! had, I believe, been a charger in its day, so well it seemed to
-know its work--then a free rein and another touch of the heel, and I
-was amongst them, my sword darting like lightning around. Also, at my
-rear, came the jennet's head; near me there flashed the steel of
-Juan's lighter weapon; and in a moment we had crashed through
-them--they fell away on either side of us like waves from a ship's
-forefoot!--fell away for a moment, though closing again in an instant.
-
-"Return and charge!" I cried to Juan, still in French. "At them again!
-See, one has got his quietus already!" As, indeed, he had, for the
-great fellow was hanging over his horse's neck, in a limp and listless
-fashion, which showed that he was done for. But now those four closed
-together as we went at them, Juan stirrup to stirrup with me in this
-second charge, and our tactics had to be changed. We could no longer
-burst through them, so that it was a hand-to-hand fight now; they had
-pistols in their holsters, but no chance to use them; they could not
-spare a hand to find those holsters--could not risk our swords through
-their unguarded breasts; wherefore we set to work, blade to blade.
-
-We should have won, I do believe. Already I had thrust through and
-through one man's arm--as luck would have it, 'twas not the sword
-arm--already they backed before our rain of blows and cuts and
-thrusts, when, by untoward fate, my horse stumbled on the frosty road
-and came down; came down upon his haunches, slipping me from the
-saddle over the cantle and so to the earth; then regained its hind
-legs once more and dashed out from the fray.
-
-And now our position was mighty perilous. Above I saw Juan on the
-jennet fencing well with two of the men; over me were the two others
-cutting down at my head, though, since by God's mercy I had retained
-my weapon, their blows were up to now unavailing. Yet I knew this
-could not be for long--nor last--wherefore I cried:
-
-"Save yourself, Juan, save yourself; disengage and flee."
-
-Under my own blade, under those two others that beat upon it so that I
-wondered it shivered not in my hand, I saw the boy manfully holding
-his own--once, too, I saw him rip up the jerkin of one of his
-opponents, and heard the latter give a yell of pain--then, "Great
-God!" I thought, "what has happened now?"
-
-For there was a fifth man upon the scene. A man, tall and stalwart,
-mounted on a great, big boned, black horse, who had suddenly sprung
-from out a chestnut copse by the side of the track; a man in whose
-hands there gleamed a sword that a second later was laced and entwined
-with those attacking Juan; a man who hurled oaths in Spanish and
-French at them--I heard _carambas_ and _por Diôs's_ and other
-words--which sounded like the rolling of some great cathedral organ as
-they came from his deep throat--_tonneres_, _ventre-bleus_ and
-_carrognes_ I heard.
-
-Heavens! who was this man who beat back those others as a giant might
-push back a handful of children; whose sword--even as with one hand he
-grasped Juan round the waist--went through an adversary's neck so that
-he fell groaning upon me, his blood spurting as if from a spigot? Who
-was he who laughed loud and long as, with one accord, all those still
-alive turned and fled back upon the road they had come? Fled, leaving
-us, thanks be to God and this new arrival, the victors of the fray.
-
-He sat his horse calmly now, looking after their retreating figures,
-his great sombrero slouched across his face, wiping his blade upon the
-coal-black creature's mane; then, as their figures disappeared from
-our view, he said in French:
-
-"Warmer work this, Seńor Belmonte, than twanging viols and singing
-love songs, _n'est-ce pas?_" and from his throat there came again that
-laugh.
-
-Glancing up, I saw that which caused me to start, even as I heard Juan
-say: "You! You here! And in this garb!"--saw that which made me wonder
-if I had gone demented. For this man who had so suddenly come to our
-rescue, this _fine lame_ whose thrusts had won the fray for us, was
-none other than the monk I had seen on board _La Sacra Familia_, the
-holy man known there as Father Jaime.
-
-And swiftly as I gazed up at him there came to my recollection old
-Admiral Hopson's suspicions as to having seen him before, also the
-imitation pass he had made across the table with the quill at his
-brother-admiral, and his words:
-
-"'Twas not always the cowl and gown that adorned his person--rather
-instead the belt and pistols--the long, serviceable rapier, handy."
-
-What did it mean?
-
-Ere he answered either Juan's startled enquiries or my stare of
-amazement, which he must very well have seen in the moon's rays as I
-regarded him, he cantered off after my horse, which was standing
-quietly in the forest side by side with that other animal on whose
-neck the first wounded man had fallen--he was now lying dead upon the
-ground!--and brought both back to where we were, leading them by their
-reins.
-
-"You will want your horse, monsieur," he said, "to continue your
-journey. _Bon Dieu!_ you both made a good fight of it, though they
-would have beaten you had I not come up at the moment."
-
-"Believe us, we both thank you more than words can express," I said,
-while Juan sat his jennet, still breathing heavily from his exertions,
-yet peering with all the power of those bright eyes at the man before
-him, "but your appearance is so different from what it was when last
-we met that--that I am lost in amazement. You were, sir, a holy monk
-then."
-
-"_Cucullus non facit monachum_," he replied, in what I recognised to
-be very good Latin, then added, with a laugh: "In journeying through
-dangerous places we are not always what we seem to be. To wit:
-Monsieur was either an English soldier or sailor when I saw him
-last--an enemy to Spain and France--hating both, as I should suppose.
-Yet now he is a private gentleman, and, I imagine, desires nothing
-less than that his real position should be known."
-
-"But you--you," Juan interposed, "you were monk from the first moment
-I set eyes on you, from the hour when we left Hispaniola. Are you not
-one?"
-
-"My boy," he said, and as he spoke he touched Juan on the sleeve as
-they both sat their horses side by side--I being also mounted again by
-this time--"my boy, I replied to your companion just now with a
-proverb. I answer you with another: 'Look not a gift horse in the
-mouth.' I have saved your life, at least, if not this gentleman's.
-And----"
-
-But Juan stammering forth some words of regret for the curiosity he
-had shown, he stopped him with still another touch on the sleeve, and
-said:
-
-"Briefly, let me tell this: I had reasons to be in Spain, to quit the
-Indies and accompany the galleons, get a passage by some means. It
-suited me to come disguised as a monk; there was no other way. For,
-rightly or wrongly, both Spain and France are my enemies; in my own
-proper character I could never have reached here. Being here, I am
-still in danger if discovered; to avoid that discovery I have now
-doffed the monkish garb, so that all traces of me are lost. Enough,
-however; I am on my road to Lugo. Does your way lie the same road?"
-
-We both answered that it did, whereon he said, speaking quickly and,
-as I noticed, in the tone of one who seemed very well used to issuing
-orders, as well as accustomed to deciding for himself and others:
-
-"So be it. Let us ride together--and at once. Every moment we tarry
-here makes our position more dangerous. Those men will no sooner have
-returned to Chantada than every available soldier will be sent forward
-to arrest us, even though we be in Lugo itself. You will be recognised
-without doubt if you stay an instant in the town. Your one chance is
-to get into it and out again as soon as may be.
-
-"And you?" I asked, as now we put spurs to our horses and dashed along
-the forest track. "And you? If any of those who were in this affray
-return with the soldiers you speak of, it will be hard for you, too,
-to escape recognition. Your form cannot be disguised."
-
-"It will be disguised again," he answered very quietly, "when I have
-once more resumed the monk's garb. I have it here," and he tapped the
-great valise strapped on his horse's back. "It has not been worn since
-I got ashore at Vigo, and that's far behind this by many leagues.
-There are none here like to recognise me."
-
-"You stay, then, in Lugo?"
-
-"I must stay. I have affairs."
-
-He said this so decidedly that we neither of us ventured to ask him
-any more questions, though, a moment or two afterward, he volunteered
-to us the statement that, if another horse he had previously bought
-when he landed at Vigo had not broken down, he would long ere this
-have been in Lugo. Only the finding of a fresh animal--the one he now
-bestrode--had taken him some time, and thereby caused him to be late
-on his road, which, as we said gratefully enough, was fortunate for
-us.
-
-"Ay," he replied, "it was; and also that I was breathing my animal in
-the forest at the time those others overtook you. But, _nom d'un
-chou!_ I have been a fighter in my day myself, and, since I could not
-see two men set upon by five, my old instincts were aroused; though,"
-he added, with extreme _sang froid_, "had it been an even fray, I
-might have left you to it."
-
-And now it seemed to both Juan and myself as though this man's
-assistance to us necessitated us showing some confidence in him;
-wherefore, very briefly, we gave him some description of why we were
-travelling together, and of how, because Juan had naught else of much
-importance to do at the outset of his arrival in Europe, he had
-elected to be my companion as far as Flanders.
-
-"Humph!" he exclaimed at this, "he is a young knight errant, as I told
-him oft enough in the galleon, when he talked some rhodomontade about
-being on his way to Europe to seek out and punish a villain who had
-wronged him. Well, sir, even if he finds not the man, he is likely
-enough to meet with sufficient adventures in your company ere he
-reaches Flanders."
-
-"He thinks he has found him already," I said quietly, in reply.
-
-"What!" and he turned his great eyes on both of us. "Found him. Here
-in Spain!" and he laughed incredulously.
-
-"He thinks nothing of the kind," Juan cried hotly, roused more, I
-thought, by that scornful laugh than by my doubting words. "He is sure
-of it!"
-
-And then he told the whole story of our having seen the old man's
-coach in the inn, of the black's insolent reply, of his departure at
-night, and of the little doubt there could be that he it was who had
-betrayed us to the people of Chantada; also he added:
-
-"But I have him. Have him fast. He is but a league or so ahead of us,
-must stop some hours, at least, in Lugo. And then--then, James Eaton,
-look to yourself!"
-
-As he uttered those words the black horse which the other bestrode
-plunged forward, pricked, as I thought, by some unintentional movement
-of the rider's spur, while that rider turned round in his saddle and
-gazed at Juan, his face, as it seemed to me, livid beneath the
-moonlight.
-
-"Who? What name is that on your lips?"
-
-"The name of a damned villain. The name of James Eaton."
-
-"James Eaton. James Eaton--what is he to you, then? What evil has he
-done to you?"
-
-"What evil?" Juan replied, with a bitter laugh. "What evil? and what
-is he to me? Only this: He was left guardian to me by my dead father,
-and--and--he ill-treated and robbed me. No more than that!"
-
-"You! You! You!" this mysterious man said, his hand raised to his
-eyebrows, his dark, piercing eyes gleaming beneath that hand--upon his
-face a look I could not fathom. "You!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX.
-
-"THE COWL DOES NOT ALWAYS MAKE THE MONK."
-
-
-We were drawing very near to Lugo now, as the wintry morning gave
-signs of breaking; already the great spurs and cańons of the mountains
-that flanked the east side of the river Minho began to shape
-themselves into something tangible and distinct from the dull clouds
-at their summits, and their peaks and crags to stand out clearly.
-Also, we noticed that villages were scattered about at the base of
-these mountains; observed lights twinkling in the windows of cottages,
-and passed a bridge which spanned the river and carried on a road that
-led from that east side to the western one; a road with, on it, a
-great pedestal of rock, serving, as others which we had passed had
-served us, as milestones and finger-posts; a road leading, as we
-learnt, from another Viana, different from the one in Portugal at
-which Juan and I had landed from the English fleet.
-
-We were drawing very near.
-
-For the last two or three hours we had ridden almost in silence, knee
-to knee, all wrapped in our long cloaks, and with nothing breaking in
-upon that silence but, sometimes, the hoot of an owl from out the
-beeches and tamarisks which fringed the road, and sometimes the scream
-of an eagle far up in the mountains, roused, perhaps, from his eyrie
-by the clang of our animals' hoofs upon the hard-bound, frosty earth.
-
-Yet some words had been spoken, too, ere we lapsed into this silence;
-for, as our friend and deliverer had exclaimed, "You! You!" on hearing
-that James Eaton had robbed Juan of whatever might have been left in
-his care by the lad's dead father, Juan himself had quickly exclaimed:
-
-"Is he known also to you, then?"
-
-"He was once, long ago--ay, long ago!" Then he paused, as though
-unwilling to tell more, though, a moment later, he said:
-
-"And now you think he is ahead of us?--that we shall find him in
-Lugo?"
-
-"Without doubt," Juan and I answered, both speaking together, while
-the former went on:
-
-"He must halt for some time in Lugo, if only to get a change of
-horses."
-
-"'Tis my belief," I struck in, "he will do more than that. Judging
-from what I learnt of him in the ship which brought us both from
-Holland, Lugo is his destination, the end of his journey."
-
-"Wherefore?" the man who had been "Father Jaime" asked.
-
-"Because," I replied, "he was on his way to Cadiz, where, he thought,
-as all did, that the galleons were going in. And he told me in a
-frenzy, when he learnt that the English fleet was about in those
-waters, that he had a fortune on board two of the galleons. Be sure,
-therefore, he would follow them up to Vigo as soon as he could, after
-being put ashore at Lagos and learning that much of the treasure had
-been set ashore and then forwarded on to Lugo----"
-
-"Would follow them here?" the other said. "Ha! Well, then, we shall
-surely meet," and he laughed a little, very quietly, to himself. "Must
-meet! And I--I shall have something to say to James Eaton--shall
-recall myself to him. He will be pleased to see me!" and again he
-laughed--though this time the laughter sounded grimly.
-
-"I also shall have something to say to him," exclaimed Juan. "To----"
-
-"Recall yourself to him also," the other broke in.
-
-"Perhaps," the boy replied, "perhaps. We shall see, though it may not
-be just at first."
-
-"At first," said the other, taking him up, "let me present myself. I
-assure you 'twill be best. Let me put in my claim to his attention.
-Then you can follow suit."
-
-"And I," I exclaimed, speaking now. "I, too, have something to settle
-with Mr. James Eaton, if that be his name. I owe it to him that my
-journey to Flanders has been interrupted by that scene upon the road,
-owe it to him that I ran a very fair chance of never continuing that
-journey further than a couple of leagues this side of Chantada.
-
-"I believe, too, that it was he who drew the attention of a French ship
-of war to the vessel which was carrying me and my intelligence to
-Cadiz, as then supposed."
-
-"How?" asked the ex-monk, "and why?"
-
-"The reason wherefore," I replied, "might be because he suspected my
-mission in some way. The manner in which he let the French ship know
-of our whereabouts was probably by leaving open the dead light of his
-cabin when he lay drinking, while all the others were closed so as to
-avoid her. Oh! be sure," I continued, "when you two have done with him
-I shall have an account also to make."
-
-"We are three avengers," the other replied, with still that grim laugh
-of his. "James Eaton will have other things to think of besides
-getting back his treasure at Lugo, if it is there; for, when Seńor
-Belmonte and myself and you have finished with him--sir," he said,
-breaking off and regarding me, "I do not know your name, how to
-designate you. What may it be?"
-
-"My name," I replied, "is Mervyn Crespin. May I ask by what we are to
-address you? At present, at least, you do not style yourself 'Father
-Jaime,' I apprehend."
-
-"Nay," he said. "Nay--not until I don the cowl again. But, see, none
-of us, I should suppose, are desirous of travelling through this
-hostile country, entering this town of Lugo, which may bristle with
-dangers to all of us, under our right names. Therefore--though even
-thus 'tis not desirous that these names should be spoken more often
-than needs--I will be Seńor Jaime. There are Jaimes for second names,
-as well as first."
-
-"And," exclaimed Juan, entering at once into the spirit of the matter,
-"there are Juans for second names as well as first, also. Therefore I
-will be Seńor Juan."
-
-"And I," I said, "since I pretend to speak no Spanish, but am supposed
-to be a Frenchman, will be Monsieur Crespin. That is a French name, as
-well as English. There are scores of Crespins in Maine and Anjou--'tis
-from there we came originally. 'Twill do very well."
-
-So, this understanding arrived at, we rode on afterward in that
-silence which I have told you of.
-
-But now it was full day, cold, crisp and bright, with the sun topping
-the mountains to our left and sending down fair, warm beams athwart
-the river, which served to put some life into us, as well as a little
-extra heat besides that which the motion of our horses and the glow of
-their bodies had hitherto afforded us.
-
-Also, we had left the forest now and entered a great plain which
-rolled away to the west of those mountains, and of the river which
-brawled and splashed at their base; a plain that in summer was,
-doubtless, covered with all the rich vegetation for which the north of
-Spain is famed, but that now stretched bare as the palm of a hand, and
-recalled to my mind the fair Weald of Kent when winter's icy grip is
-on it. Yet 'twas well covered with villages, some close together, some
-a league or two leagues apart, and, under where the last spurs of the
-Cantabrian mountains swept round directly to the west, we saw rise
-before us the high walls of a town, with above them an incredible
-amount of towers--we making out between twenty and thirty of these as
-each stride of our animals brought us nearer to them.
-
-"That," said Seńor Jaime--as he was now to be called--though God only
-knew what his right name was!--while our eyes regarded it from still
-afar, "must be Lugo. Now let us decide for our plan of action. And,
-first, as to getting into it."
-
-"Do you make your entry," I asked, "as a gentleman travelling through
-the land, or as priest--monk?"
-
-"As monk!" he replied. "So best! I have other affairs here, besides
-the desire of meeting my old friend, Eaton. Now, observe, this is what
-I propose: You shall go first together--you will have no difficulty in
-getting in, seeing that there is no frontier to cross. Nor will you be
-asked for papers, since, once in, you will not get out again unless
-you appear satisfactory to those who are there."
-
-"We must get out again after a short rest, after a few hours," I
-replied. "I make no manner of doubt that by now we are followed from
-Chantada--if those who are behind us reach Lugo ere we have quitted
-it, we shall be stopped beyond all doubt."
-
-Seńor Jaime paused a moment ere he answered; pondering, doubtless, on
-this being the case. Then, speaking slowly, he said:
-
-"If--if--'twere possible that you," looking at me, "and you,"
-regarding Juan, "could also enter the town disguised; could appear as
-something vastly different from what you are, you would be safe; we
-would remain together. And--and--that would please me. We must not
-part, having met as we have done," and his eyes rested particularly
-upon Juan as he spoke, so that I felt sure he would far less willingly
-part with him than with me; that it was of this bright, handsome boy
-he was thinking most.
-
-"I," exclaimed Juan, "would, above all other things but one--that one
-the not parting company with Mervan, my friend!"--how softly he
-murmured those words, "my friend!"--"stay here. For I am resolved to
-bring to bar that villain, James Eaton. But how--how to do it? How to
-enter the town disguised? We do not travel with masks and vizards, nor
-could we assume them an we did. Also, how to change our appearance
-sufficiently to be unrecognised by any of those behind?"
-
-"For him," said Seńor Jaime, addressing Juan, but looking at me, "'tis
-easy enough. I can help him to change himself in a moment. I have
-here," and he tapped the great valise strapped on to his horse's back,
-"a second monk's gown, of another order than the one I wore--that was
-a Carmelite's and, as you know, brown; the second is a Dominican's,
-and white. The object which brings me to Europe--later you shall know
-it--if it prospers, forced me to provide myself with more than one
-disguise."
-
-Then after pausing a moment, perhaps to judge of the effect of this
-announcement on us, he went on: "Well, Monsieur Crespin! What do you
-say? Will you be a monk and stay with Juan till he has seen his
-beloved friend, James Eaton, or will you insist on his abandoning his
-interview with that personage and riding post-haste to Flanders? Only
-remember, if he and you do so, or if you do this alone, the chance is
-also missed of your having a reckoning with that old man also."
-
-Now I was sorely posed by this suggestion of his--sorely. For,
-firstly, there was something bitterly distasteful to me, a soldier
-and, I hoped, a brave one, in masquerading in any such guise as this
-suggested. Also, I knew that it ill became me to tarry on my journey
-back for any cause whatever, let alone a new formed friendship for
-Juan Belmonte. My place was with the Cuirassiers, and with them I
-ought to be--both the earls having hinted that there would be some
-hard fighting ere long--while, as for revenging myself on the villain
-whose name now seemed for a certainty to be Eaton, well! that might
-easily be left to Seńor Jaime and Juan. If they did not between them
-very effectually confound that hoary-headed scoundrel, I should be
-much astonished.
-
-On the other hand, there were many things that made for my disguising
-myself ere I entered Lugo, and, rapidly enough as I sat my horse
-deliberating, those things ran through my mind. To begin with, it
-would be full of Spanish and French soldiers and sailors, the runaways
-from Vigo, who, undoubtedly, would have followed the bulk of the
-treasure which had been removed from the galleons and transported
-here; and it was possible that there might be some who would recognise
-me, since I had played a pretty prominent part in the attack. It
-might, therefore, be best that--little as this disguising of myself
-was to my taste--I should do as Seńor Jaime suggested.
-
-Yet, all the same--and in the next moment--I decided that I would not
-do this thing; for, besides that it was too repugnant to me, I knew
-that it would be useless. And, knowing this, I said so, in spite of
-the pleading, pitiful glances which Juan cast at me--glances which
-plainly enough implored me to adopt the monk's dress, and thereby be
-enabled to stay in Lugo until vengeance was wrought upon James Eaton.
-
-"No," I said, turning to Seńor Jaime, who sat quietly on my horse
-awaiting my answer, while I studiously avoided Juan's gaze. "No, I
-will not do it. I am a soldier, and as a soldier--at least as a man,
-and not a monk--I will get through Spain and France. Besides, the
-disguise would be useless."
-
-"Wherefore?"
-
-"In reply to that," I said, "let me ask you a question: What do you
-intend to do with your horse? Monks do not ride, as a rule--in
-Flanders I never saw one on horseback; also, your boots and great
-steel spurs beneath the gown would betray you."
-
-Now, he seemed very fairly posed at this, and for a moment bent his
-head over his animal's mane, as though lost in thought. Then suddenly
-he burst out into one of his deep, sonorous laughs, and exclaimed:
-
-"Body of St. Iago! I never thought of that. Though, for the boots, it
-matters not; I have the monkish sandals with me. And--and--perhaps the
-horse can be smuggled into the town somehow, and with it the boots!
-Ha! I must think!"
-
-And again he became buried in thought; yet, a moment later, he spoke
-once more:
-
-"If you enter Lugo as you are," he said, "you will be taken for a
-certainty. There are--there must be--many coming after us from behind,
-from Chantada--they will describe you. Remember, you were not only
-seen under the moon's rays during the fight in the wood, but in the
-town previously. And, if you are taken, there is no hope for you!
-Eaton has told that you are English--fought against the galleons at
-Vigo. God! it means the garrote for both of you. You understand what
-that is? An upright post, a hasp of iron around your neck and it, a
-wheel to screw that hasp tight to the post--with your neck between
-them!--and--and--your eyeballs out of your head--your tongue half a
-foot long. That is what awaits you if you are taken."
-
-"I will never be taken," I said, between my teeth, "to suffer that.
-Bah! If I cannot, if we cannot, get out of the town again on the other
-side, have I not this, and this?" and I touched my pistol holsters.
-"They will be in my belt then."
-
-After saying which I turned to Juan to ask him if he agreed with me,
-and saw that Seńor Jaime's ghastly description of the garrote had made
-him as pale as death.
-
-"What think you, comrade?" I asked. "Is it not best that you and I
-forego our vengeance on this man, Eaton, and push on as fast as may
-be, leaving him to our friend here, who also seems to have a reckoning
-to make--who appears, also, one who can extort it? Or will you
-disguise yourself and stay behind?"
-
-"Nay. Nay," he answered. "Where you go, I go. And--God knows I am no
-poltroon--yet--yet--I could not suffer that. I have seen it in the
-Indies--oh!" and he put his hands to his eyes, letting his reins fall.
-"Not that, not that!"
-
-"Will you push on with me, then, foregoing your vengeance?"
-
-"Yes. Yes, since my vengeance risks such death as that. But," turning
-to the other, "you proposed a disguise for me. Was I to be a monk,
-too?"
-
-"Nay," he said. "Nay. But you are a brave, handsome lad--I thought
-that in some way we might have transformed you into a woman. You would
-make a presentable one."
-
-"A woman!" he echoed, looking mighty hot and raging at the suggestion.
-"A woman!--I, who have fought by Mervan's side! Never. Also," he
-added, after somewhat of a pause, "it is not as a woman that I intend
-to meet James Eaton, if at all; but as a man demanding swift justice.
-A woman would be like to get none of that from him."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI.
-
-A NARROW ESCAPE.
-
-
-That evening--or rather afternoon, when already the wintry night was
-at hand--Juan and I were in Lugo and once more making preparations to
-continue our journey--to go on west now, through the Asturias,
-Santander and Biscay, as our chart showed us, toward St. Sebastian and
-Bayonne, which would bring us into France. But also we hoped that,
-after we had passed by the former of these provinces, on reaching the
-sea, which we should then do, our journey by land might be at an end;
-that we might find, by great good fortune, at some seaside town a
-vessel, either English or Dutch, which would take us north to where we
-desired to go.
-
-But, alas! 'tis useless to write down all the plans we concocted in
-the dirty parlour of the inn we had rested in--an inn dignified by the
-name of the "Pósada del Gran Grifon," since 'twas not to be our lot to
-make that journey, nor to set out upon it.
-
-Let me not, however, anticipate, but write down all that now befell
-us; also let me now begin to tell of the strange marvels that I was
-destined to behold the unravelling of, as also the dangers which from
-this period encompassed me.
-
-We were alone, had entered Lugo alone, Seńor Jaime having bidden us
-ride ahead of him and leave him to find his way into the town by
-himself.
-
-"And," he said, "be very sure I shall do it. Fear not for me. Only, if
-I come not by the time four o'clock has struck, believe that either I
-have fallen into the hands of the enemy or that, for some reason, I
-have not been able to get face to face with Eaton. Therefore, ride on
-without me. Remember my disguise will save _me_. You have both refused
-to be disguised. By consequence, look to yourselves. We shall meet
-again. I know your road."
-
-And now four o'clock had struck from the cathedral hard by, and he had
-not come. Yet, why not? we asked each other. A peasant whom we had met
-on the road when but a league between us and Lugo had mentioned this
-inn as one where good accommodation for man and beast could be
-obtained, and ere we parted from Jaime we had determined that it
-should be our meeting place.
-
-And still he had not come. And it was four o'clock and past.
-
-"We must go," I said to Juan, "we must go. 'Tis courting frightful
-danger to remain here. Already I have observed half a dozen French and
-Spanish sailors pass this window, whom I saw on board some of the
-ships and galleons; also some officers. If I meet them face to face,
-and they remember me, as I do them, there will be----"
-
-"What?" asked Juan, his face full of terror.
-
-"Well--no Mervyn Crespin a few hours hence! that's all."
-
-"Oh, come, come, come," he exclaimed, catching at my arm. "For God's
-sake, come! Why, why did we ever enter this town! 'Twas madness. We
-should have remembered they had fled hither."
-
-"There is no other high road to France and Flanders," I said, "that
-justifies the risk. Yet, Juan, remember, even now it is not too late
-for you to part from me, if you choose. Your coming on here means
-nothing. _You_ did not fight against the galleons; therefore you are
-in no danger----"
-
-"Silence!" he said again, as he had said once before. "Silence! I will
-hear no word about leaving you."
-
-Then suddenly he came away from the window, at which he had been
-standing, and crossed the room to me.
-
-"Look," he said. "Look from out that window into the street; then say
-if it is not too late for us to part--if my danger is not as great as
-yours. Look, I say!"
-
-Glancing first at him, in wonderment at his exclamation, and what the
-meaning of it might be, yet with some sort of understanding mounting
-to my brain also, I stepped across to the dirty, unwashed window and
-looked out into the street.
-
-And then I understood.
-
-Through the dim light cast on the now darkened street by oil lamps,
-swung across it at intervals, and also by the candles burning in.
-_relicários_, set into the walls, as well as by the feeble glare which
-emerged from curtainless and unshuttered windows, I saw a band of men
-slowly passing, their drawn swords in their hands, or with musketoons
-upon their shoulders.
-
-And ahead of all this body, which was composed of perhaps a dozen,
-there marched two of those with whom we had fought on the road between
-Chantada and this place--the leader who had addressed us, and another.
-As they passed along they gazed at each man whom they encountered;
-halting opposite our window, they looked at an inn which faced ours
-directly, a little place on which was painted the name, "Pósada Buena
-Ventura."
-
-"Open the window a crack," I said to Juan--doing so myself, however,
-as I spoke--"and let us listen. Hear what they say. Softly," and
-following my words we placed our ears to the inch-wide orifice.
-
-And then we heard every word as it fell from their lips.
-
-"That house opposite," the leader said, "is the last to be examined
-except this and another"--while Juan whispered: "I cannot catch its
-name--It sounds like the San Cristobal. Yes. Yes. 'Tis that. Ha! And,
-see, they enter the house opposite. Yet some remain in the street."
-And we both peered from behind the side of the window at them as they
-stood there in the road, a crowd of urchins gathered round.
-
-"We are trapped," I said, "trapped. We can never get out. The horses
-are in the stables behind--also, the gates are shut."
-
-"God!" exclaimed Juan, suddenly, even as I spoke, "they have finished
-there already--are coming here. Another five minutes and they will be
-in this room."
-
-"What shall we do?" he wailed a moment later.
-
-"Escape while there is time--from this room, at least. Loosen your
-sword in its sheath--follow me," and I drew him back from the window.
-
-"But where? Where to go to?"
-
-"Out of the house, at least. Come. The stairs lead down to the back
-part of the house; there is the yard and the stables--also a garden. I
-observed it when the horses were put up. Come. There is a wall at the
-end of the garden which separates it from another. If we can get over
-that we can at least escape into the town. By God's grace, there may
-be some way out of it besides the gates. And we have the cloak of
-night to help us."
-
-All the time I was speaking I had been drawing Juan toward the door;
-also I had seen that my papers and money were bestowed about me
-safely--I doubted if we should ever see our valises again!--or, for
-the matter of that, our horses. It would be heaven's providence now if
-we ever got out of this town alive, and even that I deemed unlikely.
-And at this crisis that was all we had to hope for, if so much.
-
-"Lift your _porte epée_ by the hand," I whispered. "If the scabbard
-clanks on the stairs we are undone. Follow me."
-
-In another instant we were outside the door of the room. For
-precaution and as a possible means of gaining time I drew the key from
-the inside of the lock, then placed it in the keyhole outside, made a
-turn and, again withdrawing it, dropped it into my pocket. This would
-take up some moments, while they clamoured without, bidding us open.
-It would take some few more to break down the door, which they would
-very probably do. They might be precious moments to us.
-
-It was quite dark outside in the corridor, but at the farther end
-there glimmered a faint light from an oil lamp set upon a bracket,
-though its rays scarcely reached here, namely, to the head of the deep
-oak stairs opposite where the door of the room we had just quitted
-was. But from below, which was a stone-flagged passage running from
-the front of the house to the back, there was another light--thank
-God, 'twas nearer the street than the exit to the yard!
-
-We descended seven steps, then the stairs turned sharply from a small
-landing--we ourselves did not dare, however, to turn them.
-
-For below, in that cold stone corridor, we heard and recognised the
-voice of the man who had challenged us in the forest ere the fight
-began, a night ago.
-
-"Here, are they?" we heard him say. "Here--so the birds are caught.
-The one, big, stalwart, brown--that is the English _demonio_--the
-other, younger, dark, handsome, might play the lover in one of Vega's
-spectacles. Ha! And the third who joined in the murder--an elder one,
-swart and grimy, black as the devil himself--is he here, too?"
-
-"Nay," said the woman, whose voice told us she was the landlady,
-"there are but two, the bronzed one and the youth. You will not hurt
-him! Nay! Nay! _Diôs!_ he is young and beautiful."
-
-"Have no fear. _We_ will not hurt either, if they do not resist. If
-they do, we shall cut them down. But--otherwise--no! no!" and he
-laughed a fierce, hard laugh. "Oh, no. There are others to hurt
-them--the governor, the Regidórs, the judges. Ho! They will hurt them
-through the garrote--or--or--the flames. The brasero! The wheel! Now
-lead up to them. Where is the room they harbour in?"
-
-"I will fetch another lamp," the woman said. "This one is fixed.
-Wait." And we heard her clatter down the corridor on her Spanish
-pattens. Yet she paused, too, a moment, and turned back, saying:
-
-"Spare him--the young one. Heavens! his lips and eyes are enough to
-madden an older woman than I am."
-
-"Quick, then, quick," the other answered. "They sleep in the prison
-to-night, and our supper waits at the gatehouse. Quick."
-
-"Shall we dash through them?" Juan whispered; and now I noticed that,
-as before in the hour of danger, his voice was firm and steady. "One
-might escape even though the other is taken." And I heard him mutter,
-in even lower tones: "Pray God it is you."
-
-"No," I said. "No. We go together. Together escape or--die."
-
-Then, even as I spoke, I saw what I had not observed before, owing to
-the dim light in which all was surrounded; saw that opposite to us on
-the landing--where the stairs turned--there was a door. Closed tight
-into its frame, 'twas true, yet leading doubtless into some room
-opening off the stairs which led up to the other one we had quitted.
-
-I was near enough to put my foot out quietly and touch it with my toe
-and--God be praised!--it yielded, opened inward.
-
-"Into it," I said in Juan's ear, "into it. They will pass it as they
-go up to where we have come from. When they have done so we may creep
-down. In!"
-
-A moment later we had entered that room, had quitted the stairs--and
-the woman had come back and rejoined the men, was leading them up
-those very stairs, across the very spot where a few instants before we
-had been standing.
-
-Yet our hearts leapt to our mouths--mine did, I know!--when we who
-were standing on the other side of the door heard him stop outside it,
-and, striking the panel with his finger--the rap of his nail upon it
-was clearly perceptible to our eager ears--say to the woman:
-
-"Is this the room--are they here?"
-
-The woman gave a low laugh in answer; then she said:
-
-"Nay. Nay. 'Tis mine. By the saints! what should they do there! That
-handsome _Inglés_, devil though he be!--or that lovely boy? Heavens,
-no!" and again she laughed, and added: "Come. They are here. Up these
-stairs."
-
-Even as we heard their heavy, spurred feet clatter on those stairs we
-were seeking for some mode of escape, and that at once.
-
-Alas! 'twas not to be out of the door again and down into the stone
-passage, as we had thought.
-
-For one glance through a great crack, and we saw, by peering down
-below, that these Spanish alguazils had some method in their
-proceedings. They had left two of their number behind; they stood in
-the passage waiting for what might happen above; waiting, perhaps, to
-hew down the two fugitives whom those others were seeking for, should
-they rush down; waiting for us. There was no way there!
-
-Then, for the room--what did that offer?
-
-It was as dark as a vault--we could distinguish nothing--not even
-where the bed was--at first. Yet, later, in a few moments--while we
-heard, above, the rapping of sword hilts upon the door of the chamber
-we had just quitted--while we heard, too, the leader shouting: "Open.
-Open--_Bandidos! Assassinatóres! Espias!_ or we will blow the lock
-off"--we saw at the end of the room a dull murky glimmer, a light that
-was a light simply in contrast to the denser gloom around--knew there
-was a window at that end.
-
-Was that our way out?
-
-Swiftly we went toward it--tore aside a curtain drawn across a
-bar--the noise the rings made as they ran seemed enough to alarm those
-men above, must have done so but for the infernal din they themselves
-were making--opened the lattice window--and, heaven help us!--found
-outside an iron, interlaced grate that would have effectually barred
-the exit of aught bigger than a cat!
-
-We were trapped! Caught! It seemed as if naught could save us now!
-
-"Lock the door," I whispered to Juan. "They will come here next. The
-moment they find we are not in the other room!--ha! they know it now,
-or will directly."
-
-For as I spoke there rang the report of a musketoon through the empty
-passages of the house. They were blowing the lock off!
-
-Desperately, madly, exerting a force that even I had never yet
-realized myself as possessing, I seized the cross-bars of that iron
-grating; I pushed them outward, praying to God for one moment--only
-one moment--of Samson's strength. And--could do nothing! Nothing, at
-first. Yet--as still I strained and pushed, as I drew back my arms to
-thrust more strongly even than before--it seemed as if the framework,
-as if the whole thing, yielded, as if it were becoming loosened in its
-stone or brick setting. Inspired by this, I pushed still more, threw
-the whole weight of my big body into one last despairing effort--and
-succeeded! The grate was loosened, torn out of the frame; with a
-clatter of falling chips and small _débris_ it fell into the yard ten
-feet below.
-
-My prayer was heard!
-
-"Quick, Juan," I said, "quick, come. Out of the window, give me your
-hands. I will lower you. 'Tis nothing."
-
-From Juan there came in answer a cry, almost a scream of terror.
-
-"Save me! Save me!" he shrieked, "there is another man in the room!"
-and as he so cried, I heard a thump upon the floor--a thump such as
-one makes who leaps swiftly from a bed--a rush across that floor. Also
-a muttered curse in Spanish, a tempest of words, a huge form hurled
-against mine, two great muscular hands at my throat.
-
-In a moment, however, my own hands were out, too, my thumbs pressing
-through a coarse beard upon a windpipe. "Curse you," I said in
-Spanish, as I felt that grasp on me relax. "Curse you, you are
-doomed," and drawing back, I struck out with my full force to the
-front of me.
-
-Struck out, to feel my clenched fist stopped by a hairy face--the thud
-was terrible even to my ears!--to hear a bitter moan and, a moment
-later, a fall--dull and like a dead weight!--upon the floor.
-
-"Come, Juan, come," I cried. "Come."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII.
-
-WHO? GRAMONT?
-
-
-As he scrambled through the window--as I let him down by his hands, so
-that, with the length of his arm and mine together, his feet were not
-more than a yard from the ground--I heard those others outside the
-door. Heard also the woman shriek:
-
-"There is none in here, I tell you--pigs, idiots! If they have
-escaped, 'tis to the street or to the roof. Search those rooms first.
-This is my chamber. _Diôs!_ Are you men to enter thus a woman's
-apartment!"
-
-"So be it," the leader said. "We will. But, remember, if we find them
-not we will search this room. Remember!" and we heard him and the
-others striding off to some other part of the house.
-
-By this time I was myself half out of the window. From the creature I
-had felled to the floor there came no sound; but from the door outside
-I heard the woman whisper:
-
-"Renato, come forth. Quick, I say! If they find you here you are lost.
-You will be taken--sent to the colonies. Come forth!"
-
-Then I waited to hear no more, understanding clearly enough that the
-woman had herself been sheltering in her own room some malefactor,
-probably some lover. And, doubtless, he had thought we were seeking
-for him, had found him in that darkened room--that we were the
-alguazils. His presence was explained.
-
-Taking Juan by the hand, I passed rapidly by the stables as we went
-away from the street and up into the garden beyond--a small place,
-neglected and dirty, in which I had noticed, when we arrived, numbers
-of enormous turnips growing--vegetables much used in the country.
-
-Then, a moment later, we were close by a low, whitewashed wall--'twas
-not so high as my head--over which I helped Juan, following instantly
-myself.
-
-"Heaven knows," I said, "where we are now, except that we have left
-the inn behind. This may be the garden of some great _residéncia_, or
-of another inn. Well, we must get through somehow into the street
-beyond."
-
-"And afterward?" Juan asked, his face close to mine, as though trying
-to see me in the dark of the night. "Afterward?"
-
-"God knows what--afterward! We shall never get out of the gates, 'tis
-certain. There are five--all are doubtless warned by now. Pity 'tis we
-did not follow our friend's suggestion and disguise ourselves. That
-way, we might have been safe. I as a monk, you as a woman, we should
-never have been recognised."
-
-"'Tis too late," said Juan. "Too late now. We must go on; on to the
-end. Yet I wonder where that friend, Jaime, is. Perhaps taken, his
-disguise seen through."
-
-We had reached the house to which this garden belonged by now--a
-different one from the neglected thing we had lately left, well cared
-for, and with great tubs of oleanders and orange trees placed about it
-at regular intervals, as we could now see by the rising moon, which
-was peeping over the chimney tops and casting its rays along a broad
-path which we had followed; were close up to the house, a great white
-one, with this, its garden side, full of windows covered with
-_persianas_, or jalousies, and from some of them lights streaming.
-
-"'Tis an inn, for sure," I said, "and full of--hark! whose voice is
-that?"
-
-Yet there was no need to ask; 'twas a voice not easily forgotten which
-was speaking now; the voice of the man, Seńor, or "Father," Jaime.
-
-"Ay," we heard in those rich, sonorous tones, "alive, and here to call
-you to account."
-
-And following this we heard another voice, supplicating, wailing,
-screaming, almost: "No! No! No! Mercy! Pardon!"
-
-Beneath the moon's increasing rays we gazed into each other's eyes,
-then quickly, together--as if reading each other's thoughts also--we
-moved toward where those sounds proceeded from.
-
-Toward a room in the angle of the great white house, with a door
-opening on to the garden in which we stood--'twas open now, though
-half across it hung a heavy curtain of some thick material. It was
-easy enough to guess how 'twas that curtain was thrown half back and
-the door stood open.
-
-That way Jaime had come upon his prey.
-
-Standing behind that door, behind that heavy half-fallen curtain,
-this was what we saw: The man Jaime, with in his hand a drawn
-sword--doubtless he had hidden it beneath his monk's gown since he
-returned to the assumption of the latter.
-
-In front of Jaime, upon his knees, his hands clasped, his white hair
-streaming behind him, was the man whose name I had deemed to be
-Carstairs, or Cuddiford, but which Juan had averred was in truth James
-Eaton.
-
-"Alive!" Jaime went on. "Alive. Villain, answer for your treachery ere
-I slay you. Where is my wealth--my child's wealth. Where is my
-daughter?"
-
-As he spoke I heard a gasp, a moan beside me, felt a trembling. And,
-looking down, I saw Juan staring into the room, his eyes distended as
-though he was fascinated.
-
-"My child," Jaime went on. "My child. Where is she?"
-
-"I--I--do not know," the old man muttered--hissed in a whisper. "I
-do--not know. She left me--years ago. Yet--I loved her."
-
-"Liar. I have heard of you in the Indies. You stole the wealth I left
-in your hands for her--you drove her forth. Answer. Is she dead?"
-
-"I lost all in trade," Eaton moaned again, "all, all. I thought
-to double it--you were dead--they said so--would never come back.
-I--I----"
-
-"Look," whispered Juan in my ear. "Look behind you."
-
-At his words I turned, and then I knew that we were lost, indeed. Lost
-forever.
-
-The men from Chantada, accompanied by those of Lugo, were in this
-garden--had followed us over the wall, had found out our way of
-escape.
-
-We were doomed! The garrote--the stake--were very near now.
-
-They saw us at once, in an instant--doubtless our forms stood out
-clearly enough in the beams of the lamp as they poured forth into the
-garden--and made straight for us, their swords drawn, the unbrowned
-barrels of their musketoons and pistols gleaming in the moonlight. And
-the leader shouted, as he ran slightly ahead of the others: "You
-cannot escape again. Move and we fire on you!"
-
-Yet we heeded him not, but with a bound leapt into the room where
-those two were--leapt in while I cried: "Jaime, we are undone. Assist
-us again."
-
-Then swift as lightning I shut the door to, let fall the curtain and
-drew my sword. "I will never yield to them," I said. "Juan and I
-escape or die here together."
-
-"Together!" Juan echoed, drawing also his weapon forth.
-
-There was but time to see a still more frightened glance on Eaton's
-face than before--if added terror could come into a man's eyes more
-than had been when those eyes had glinted up at Jaime as he stood over
-him, it came now as Juan sprang to my side, his hat fallen off and his
-hair dishevelled--while those men were at the door giving on to the
-garden. And in an instant it was burst open by them--'twas but a poor
-frail thing!--they were in the room.
-
-"Yield!" the leader cried, "yield, or you die here at once!"
-
-But now Jaime was by our side; three blades were flashing in their
-faces; we were driving them back, assisted also by a fourth--the negro
-servant of Eaton, who had sprung into the room from another door. Yet
-that assistance lasted but a second. Doubtless the unhappy wretch
-preferred it, thinking it was his master who was in danger! A pistol
-was fired by some one, and I saw him reel back, falling heavily on the
-floor, dead, with a bullet between his eyes. And, as he did so, from
-Eaton there came a scream, while he flung himself over the creature's
-body.
-
-With those others pistols were now the order of the day, fired
-ineffectually at first, while still I and the leader fought
-hand-to-hand around the room. And I had him safe. I knew if I was not
-cut down from behind that he was mine. My blade was under and over his
-guard. I prepared for the last lunge, when--curses on the luck!--a
-bullet took me in the right forearm; there ran through that arm, up to
-my shoulder, a feeling of numbness, a burning twinge; my sword fell
-with a clang to the floor.
-
-And in another moment two of them had sprung on and secured me; two
-others had grasped Juan, and disarmed him, too.
-
-And now there was none on our side to oppose himself to them but
-Jaime.
-
-"Shoot him down! Kill him!" the leader cried. Then added: "You fool,
-there is naught against you, yet, if you court fate, receive it."
-
-But, great fighter as he was, what could he do against all those? One
-hung upon his sword arm, another clasped a leg, a third was dragging
-at his neck from behind, a fourth holding his monkish gown.
-
-In another moment he, too, was disarmed. We were beaten--prisoners!
-The lives of all of us were at an end. None could doubt that!
-
-The leader drew a long breath, then turned to where, at the open door
-of the passage, were gathered the landlord, as I supposed; several
-_facchinos_ and some trembling women servants, white to the lips, and
-said:
-
-"Observe, all you. I take these men--these _asasinos_ within your
-house. I denounce these two," and he indicated Juan and me, "the one
-as an English spy and a man who fought against us at Vigo, this other
-one, this boy, as his comrade and accomplice. Bear witness to my
-words, also to their deeds of blood."
-
-From that crowd in the passage there came murmurs and revilings in
-reply: "You should have slain them here," some said; "Better the
-garrote or the flames in the _plaza da Mercado_," said others.
-
-"As for this monk, this false monk--for such I know him now to
-be--easy enough to recognise him as one of the brigands we fought with
-the other night--had he not joined in this fray he had been safe. We
-sought him not. Now, also, the flames or the garrote for him." Then,
-breaking off, he exclaimed: "Who is this--and that black slave lying
-dead there?" and he pointed to Eaton and the other. "Who are they?"
-
-"A gentleman and his servant staying in this, my house," the landlord
-said, speaking for the first time, "doubtless assaulted by the
-_vagabundos_. Oh! 'tis terrible."
-
-"Off with these three," the leader said. "To the prison in the
-ramparts to-night--the judge to-morrow."
-
-And as he gave his orders his men and the men of Lugo with him formed
-round us, prepared to obey.
-
-But, now, for the first time Eaton spoke, approaching the leader
-fawningly, speaking in a soft voice.
-
-"Seńor," he said, "ere you take them away, a word. This one," looking
-at me, "you knew already--at Chantada; I have told you who and what he
-is. For the boy it matters not. He is but a follower."
-
-Yet as he spoke I noticed he carefully avoided Juan's eyes, fixed full
-blaze on him as they flamed from out of his now white, marble face.
-
-"These, I say, you know," he went on. "But for this other one--this
-pretended monk, this brigand of the night--you do not know him; nor
-who he is and what has been. Let me tell you."
-
-"Viper," Jaime murmured. "Villain. Thief! Yet," he continued, "I stoop
-not to ask your silence. Speak. Tell all. But, James Eaton, beware.
-Caged tigers sometimes break their bars and get free."
-
-"Yours will never be broken," the leader said, looking at the same
-time with a wondering glance from one to the other.
-
-"'Tis true. 'Tis very true," Eaton went on, his voice oily,
-treacherous as before. "Yet since you might break yours, I give this
-gentleman a double reason for binding you faster. Sir," turning to him
-whom he so addressed, "this monk, this brigand as he appears, would be
-an innocent man were he that alone, in comparison with what he really
-is."
-
-"Who in the name of all the fiends is he, then? Answer quick."
-
-"A murderer," the old man hissed now, raising his voice, "not
-four-fold, but four thousand-fold. See," and he pointed his fingers at
-Jaime, "see in him the man who sacked Maracaibo, Guayaquil, Campeachy;
-the man who has burnt men and women alive in their houses like pigs in
-a stye, sunk countless Spanish and French ships, plundered, murdered,
-ravished--the arch-villain of the Caribbean Sea--not dead, but alive,
-and trapped at last. The buccaneer, filibuster, pirate--Gramont!"
-
-Amidst their voices--their shouts and cries--for all in Spain had
-known that awful name, though its owner had long been deemed dead and
-lost at sea--I heard a cry--it was a scream--from Juan; I saw him reel
-as he stood by my left side, then stagger heavily against me,
-supported from falling to the floor only by my unwounded arm around
-him.
-
-He had fainted.
-
-And, as I held up the drooping form, I learnt the secret hidden from
-me for so many days. I knew now what it was that Sir George Rooke had
-earlier learnt. I penetrated the disguise of Juan Belmonte.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII.
-
-SENTENCED TO DEATH.
-
-
-I lay within a darkened cell in the prison which formed part of the
-ramparts of Lugo. Lay there, a man doomed to death; sentenced to be
-burnt at the stake, as a spy taken in a country at war with my own. To
-be burnt at the stake on some Sunday morning, because that day was
-always a day of festival, because all Lugo would be there to witness,
-because from all the country round the peasants would come in to see
-the Englishman expire in the flames.
-
-Doomed to death!
-
-Yet not alone. By my side--his right hand nailed to an upright plank!
-(so the sentence had run) to which our bodies were to be fastened by
-chains--was to stand that other man, Gramont--the pirate and buccaneer
-who, as Eaton had testified, had been called the Shark of the Indies.
-
-I had been tried first by the Alcáide of Lugo and the principal
-Regidór, assisted by the Bishop of the province, an extremely old
-man--and had been soon disposed of. Evidence was forthcoming--there
-was plenty of it in Lugo in the shape of French sea-captains and
-sailors from the Spanish galleons--that I had fought with the English
-at Vigo; also, that I had slain men betwixt the border and here. And,
-again, there was the evidence of Eaton that I had travelled from
-Rotterdam as the undoubted bearer of the news that the galleons were
-approaching Spain.
-
-Also, not content with all this, I was on my way through the land,
-gleaning evidence of all that was taking place within it, so as to
-furnish, as none could otherwise suppose, information to my countrymen
-when I should reach them.
-
-No need for my trial to be spun out; one alone of all these facts was
-enough to condemn me, and, after a whispered conference between the
-Alcáide, the Regidór and the Bishop, the latter delivered the above
-sentence, his voice almost inaudible because of his great age, yet
-strong enough for the purpose--powerful enough to reach my ears and
-those of the small crowd within the court house; that was sufficient.
-
-So I knew my fate, and knew, too, that it was useless to say aught, to
-utter one word. I had lost the game; the stakes would have to be paid
-in full.
-
-Then began the unravelling of the history of him who stood beside
-me--swarthy, contemptuous--his eyes glancing around that court,
-alighting at one moment on the withered form and cadaverous face of
-the Bishop, at another on the figure of the Regidór, a moment later on
-the Alcáide, a younger, well favoured man, whom I guessed a soldier in
-the past or present.
-
-Gramont's condemnation was assured by the part he had played on that
-night when he assisted us on the road 'twixt Chantada and Lugo. That
-alone would have forfeited his life amidst these Spaniards; yet,
-perhaps from curiosity, perhaps because even they doubted whether so
-summary an execution, and one so horrible, was merited by that night's
-work, they decided to hear the denouncement of Eaton, the story of
-Gramont's past life. They bade the former speak, tell all.
-
-And what a story it was he told!
-
-Sitting in a chair near the Bishop, looking nearly as old as that old
-man himself, he poured out horror after horror; branded the man by my
-side as one too steeped in cruelty to be allowed to live another hour,
-if what he said was, indeed, true.
-
-Told how this man had ravaged all the Spanish main--had besieged
-Martinique, Nombre de Diós, Campeachy, and scores of other places,
-shedding blood like water everywhere--had sunk and plundered ships;
-burnt them and the men in them--burnt them alive; gave instances, too,
-of cruelty extreme.
-
-"I have known him to tie dead and living together and fling them to
-the sharks," he said--"dead and living _Spaniards!_ Also hang them to
-the bowsprit by a cord round their waists, a knife placed in one hand,
-so that, while freedom was theirs if they chose to sever the rope, a
-worse death awaited them when they fell into the water--a death from
-sharks, from alligators! Oh, sir, oh, reverend prelate," he continued,
-stretching out his hands toward the old, almost blind man, "I have
-seen worse than this. Once he and his followers besieged a monastery
-full of holy fathers, governed by a bishop saintly as yourself; and
-they defended it vigorously, bravely--would have driven this tiger
-back but for one thing."
-
-"What?" asked the younger of the judges, the Alcáide. And I noticed
-that now, as all through this testifying of Eaton, that Alcáide seemed
-less disposed to accept his evidence than the others were. Later on I
-knew the reason that so urged him.
-
-"What?" he said.
-
-"Some of the priests had already fallen into his hands and the hands
-of his crew. Then they it was whom he forced to advance first against
-the monastery--to fire the brass cannon they had brought with them
-against their brethren; forced them to do so, so that those brethren
-should not know them, should shoot them down first.
-
-"Also," said the Alcáide, "it might have been to prevent their firing
-at all. In open war a great commander would, perhaps, have availed
-himself of such a cunning ruse."
-
-Then I knew for sure this man had been, or was, a soldier.
-
-More, much more, was told by Eaton--'tis best I set down nothing
-further--then the end came, The sentence was passed; he, too, was
-doomed to die, by my side, on the Sunday that should later be
-appointed.
-
-"Break off," the Bishop said. "Justice will be done." Whereupon he
-glanced down at his papers--I wondering that he could see them with
-those purblind eyes--while, pausing in his attempt to rise, he "Yet
-there was another. The youth"--and here I pricked up my ears, for
-of Juan I had heard nothing since taken to the prison in the
-ramparts--"the youth who fought by the side of this man--this
-spy--this _Inglés_. How comes it he is not before us?"
-
-For a moment, as it seemed to me, the Alcáide hesitated, then he said:
-
-"He is not well. He was hurt in the _męlée_; he cannot be brought
-before us for some days. Later, if necessary, he can be tried."
-
-Although I had drawn as far away from Gramont as I could since I had
-learned his true nature and character and the bloodshed of which he
-had been guilty, I could not prevent myself from letting my eyes fall
-on him now; and I saw that for the first time there was a look of
-eagerness in his eyes, that he was watching the younger of those
-judges, watching as though filled with an intensity of feeling as to
-what might next be said.
-
-"If necessary, Capitan Morales," the Regidór said, speaking now for
-almost the first time, "if necessary! By all reports he is as bad as
-his elder comrades. A wild cat, all say. Why should it not be
-necessary?"
-
-"He is very young," the Alcáide replied, undoubtedly confused, "very
-young; also he--he--is not well. I should do wrong to produce him
-before you in the state he is. As governor I must use my discretion,"
-and he made a feint of being engaged with the papers before him.
-
-Then I felt sure that he, too, knew Juan's secret, as I now did.
-
-And I wondered to what advantage he might put that secret on behalf of
-Juan. Wondered while I felt glad at the thought which had now risen to
-my mind--the thought that, at last, Juan might be saved from our doom.
-
-Again the Bishop said at this time--doubtless his worn old frame was
-fatigued by the morning's work:
-
-"Let us rise. There is no more to be done, since--since--this youth
-cannot yet be brought before us," and once more he placed his white,
-shrunken hands upon the desk in front of him to obtain the necessary
-aid to quitting his seat.
-
-But now the governor, whose name was Morales, made a motion of
-dissent, accompanying it, however, by soft, respectful words.
-
-"Nay, most reverend father, nay," he said, "not yet, if you will
-graciously permit that we continue our examination farther," while as
-he spoke the Bishop sank back again with a wearied look of assent. "I
-am not satisfied."
-
-"Not satisfied," the old man whispered, while the Regidór also echoed
-his words, though in far louder tones. "What is it you are not
-satisfied with, Capitan Morales?"
-
-"With that man's testimony," he exclaimed, pointing his finger over
-his desk at Eaton. "In no manner of way satisfied," and as he spoke it
-almost seemed--I should have believed it to be so in any other country
-but Spain, a land of notorious injustice and love of cruelty for the
-sake of cruelty--as if the crowd in the court somewhat agreed with
-him. Also, even as he spoke, a voice shouted from the midst of those
-forming it:
-
-"Ay! How knows he all this? Ask him that."
-
-Glancing my eyes in the direction whence those words came, they fell
-upon a man of rude though picturesque appearance, whose voice I
-thought it was; a fellow bearded and bronzed, with, in his ears, great
-rings of gold; a man whom, I scarce know why, I instantly deemed a
-sailor. Perhaps, one of the many who had fled from the galleons or the
-French ships of war.
-
-"I am about to ask him that!" exclaimed Morales, though he cast an
-angry glance toward the crowd. "It is his answer to that which I
-require."
-
-Then all eyes were instantly directed toward Eaton, one pair flaming
-like burning coals from beneath their bushy brows--the eyes of
-Gramont.
-
-Looking myself at him, noticing the ashy colour of his face as he
-heard that unknown voice uprise amidst the people gathered in the
-court--as also he heard in reply the words of Morales--noticing, too,
-the quivering of his white lips and the look as of a hunted rat that
-came into his eyes--I found myself wondering if he had not thought of
-how his denunciation of the man by my side was his own accusation
-also.
-
-"I ask you," went on Morales, "how you know all these things. None but
-an eye-witness, a participator, could have told as much!"
-
-Upon that muttering and gesticulating crowd, upon the shaggy,
-black-bearded Asturians and Biscayans--some of them rude mountaineers
-from the Gaviara and some even ruder sailors from the wild and
-tempest-beaten shores of Galicia--upon the swarthy Spanish women with
-knives in their girdles and babes at their bare breasts, there fell a
-hush as all listened for his answer--a hush, broken only by his own
-halting attempt to find an answer that should be believed--gain
-credence not only with the judges, but the people.
-
-"I have--heard--it said--heard it told," he whispered, in quavering
-tones. "'Twas common talk in all the Indies--his name hated--dreaded.
-Used as a means to fright the timid--to----"
-
-He paused. For, like a storm that howls across the seas, sweeping all
-before it in its course, another voice, a deeper, fuller, more
-sonorous one, swept through that court and drowned his; the voice of
-the lost man by my side.
-
-"Hear me, you judges," he cried, confronting all--standing there with
-his manacled hands in front of him, yet his form erect, his glance
-contemptuous, his eyes fire. "Hear me. Let me tell all. I have the
-right--the last on earth granted to one such as I--for one who sees
-and reads his doom in all your faces. Give me your leave to speak."
-
-"Speak!" the Bishop murmured, his tones almost inaudible. "Speak--yet
-hope nothing."
-
-"Hope!" Gramont said. "Hope! What should I hope? Nothing! in truth.
-No more than I fear aught. I am the man this one charges me with
-being--am Gramont. That is enough. Gramont, the filibuster--one of a
-hundred of your countrymen, of Frenchmen, of Englishmen. But," and
-he glanced proudly around the court, "the leader of them all, of
-almost all. Yet, if I am guilty, who is there in the Indies that is
-innocent? Was Morgan, the English bulldog?--yet his king made him
-deputy-governor of his fairest isle. Was Basco, Lolonois--is Pointis?
-Answer me that. And, you of Spain, you, one of her bishops, you, one
-of her soldiers," and he glanced at each of them, "how often has one
-of you blessed the ships that sailed from your shores laden with men
-of my calling--how often have men of your trade," again he glanced at
-Morales, "belonged to mine? Yet now I, a Frenchman, a comrade in arms
-of you Spanish, am judged by the words of such as that"--and this time
-his eyes fell on Eaton.
-
-Also all in the court looked at him again.
-
-"Now," went on Gramont, "hear who and what he is--hear, too, how he
-knows all that I have done. He was my servant--my ship's steward
-once--then rose through lust of cruelty to be my mate and second in
-command. And he it was who first whispered that the captured monks and
-priests, as he terms them, should be sent against the monastery at
-Essequibo. Only--he has forgotten, his memory fails--they were not
-monks and priests--but _nuns_."
-
-"No, no, no!" shrieked Eaton, as a tumult indescribable arose within
-the court, while now the mountaineers and seamen howled, "burn him and
-let the other go," and the fierce dark-eyed women clutched their babes
-closer to their breasts, fingering the hilts of the knives in their
-girdles at the same time.
-
-"Nuns! Holy nuns!" the Bishop gasped. "Great God!"
-
-"Ay! Holy nuns. And hear one more word from me; it is the truth,
-though it avails me nothing. I was not at Essequibo then, was far
-away, was, in truth, at Cape Blanco. And he--he--James Eaton, was the
-man."
-
-There rose more tumult and more uproar--it seemed as though all the
-men in the court would force the barrier that separated them from the
-judges and from Eaton and us, the prisoners--would slay that villain,
-that monstrous wretch, upon the spot. But at a look from the Alcáide
-some of the alguazils and men-at-arms by that barrier, thrust and
-pushed them back, and made a line between them and the body of the
-court.
-
-"Again listen," Gramont went on, when some silence had at last been
-obtained. "It is my last word. I was not there--was gone--the band was
-broken up, dispersed. From Spain had come an order from your king that
-those who desisted were to be pardoned; from Louis of France came the
-same news by Pointis. And I was one who so desisted, took service
-under Louis, was made his lieutenant. Also I was on my way to France
-when I was cast away. Cast away, after leaving my child, my wealth, in
-that man's hands for safe keeping. He drove the one from him with
-curses and cruelty, he stole the other. And--hear more--those galleons
-coming to Cadiz were bringing that stolen wealth to him--because I
-knew that it was so I came in them to Spain, hoping by my disguise to
-meet him, to wrench it back from him, to call him to account for his
-treatment of my girl."
-
-On the court there had come a hush--as the calm comes after the storm;
-hardly any spoke now--yet all, from Bishop downward, regarded Eaton,
-trembling, shivering there.
-
-And once more in that hush, Gramont's voice uprose again.
-
-"For myself I care not. Do with me what you will. But, remember, I
-denounce him, that man there, as pirate and buccaneer ten times more
-bloodthirsty and cruel than any other who ever ravaged the Indies; I
-denounce him, the denouncer, as thief, filibuster and spy. Do with me
-what you will--only take heed. Spare him not. And if you seek
-corroboration of my word, demand it of him who is my fellow-prisoner,
-demand the truth from Juan Belmonte."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV.
-
-MY LOVE! MY LOVE!
-
-
-The days passed as I lay in my dungeon in the ramparts, and each
-morning when the jailer--who, I soon learned, was deaf and dumb--came
-with a loaf of bread and jar of water, I braced myself to receive the
-tidings that it was my last on earth.
-
-Yet a week went by and I had not been summoned to the plank and
-flames--I began, as I lost count of time--as I forgot the days of the
-week themselves--to wonder if, after all, the sentence was one that
-they did not dare to carry out. And, remembering that in Spain nothing
-could be done without reference to the powers at Madrid, I mused upon
-whether, if they did so dare, the sanction for the execution of
-Gramont and myself must be first obtained ere the execution could take
-place; also I mused on many other things, be sure, besides my own
-impending fate, a fate which, I thought, would never be known to any
-of my countrymen, which would be enveloped forever in a darkness
-nothing could lift. I thought of Juan and of the secret which
-that wild, impulsive nature had concealed from me for so many
-days--wondered what would be the end of that career; thought, too, of
-Gramont, the man whose blood-guiltiness had been so great, yet who, as
-he stood by my side a doomed man, had seemed almost a hero by reason
-of his indifference to, his scorn of, his fate.
-
-The dungeon, as I have termed it, though in fact it was more like a
-cell, was in and at the uppermost part of the ramparts of Lugo--noted
-for being the most strongly walled and fortified town in all
-Spain--was, indeed, a room in the great wall which sloped down
-perpendicularly to the Minho beneath; a wall, smooth and absolutely
-upright, or vertical, on which a sparrow could scarcely have found a
-crevice in which to lodge or perch, rising from eighty to a hundred
-feet from the base of the rock on which it was built and through which
-the river rushed. This I had seen as we had passed under it on the
-other side of the Minho when we approached the town; could see,
-indeed, in the daytime as I glanced down on to the river beneath
-through the heavily grated and barred window which admitted light to
-my prison; also I could observe the country outside and the mountains
-beyond, while I heard at night the swirl of the river as it sped by
-those rocks below.
-
-Because there was no chance of escape for any creature immured within
-this cell, since none could force away those grates and bars, even had
-he possessed that strength of Samson, for which I had once prayed;
-because, also, had I been able to do so, there was nothing but the
-jagged rocks beneath, or the swift river, into which to cast myself, I
-was not chained nor manacled; was at liberty, instead, to move about
-as I chose; to peer idly out all day at the freedom of the open
-country beyond, which would never again be mine, or to cast myself
-upon the pallet on the floor and sleep and dream away the hours that
-intervened between now and my day of doom. Nay, I was at liberty, had
-I so chosen, to strangle myself with my bedding, or, for the matter of
-that, my belt or cravat, or end my life in any manner I might desire.
-Perhaps, though I knew not that it was so, it might be hoped such
-would be the end. It might save trouble and after consequences.
-
-None came near me all the day or night, except that mute jailer, of
-whom I have spoken, when he brought me my bread and water every
-morning, and it was, therefore, with a strange feeling of
-surprise--with a plucking at my heart, and a fear, which I despised
-myself for, that my last hour was come--that one night, as I lay in
-the dark, I heard footsteps on the stones of the passage outside the
-cell door--footsteps that stopped close by that door, some of them
-heavy, the others light. I heard, too, the clash of keys together, the
-grating of one in the huge lock, a moment later.
-
-"Remember," I whispered to myself. "Remember, you are a man--a
-soldier. Be brave."
-
-Then slowly the door opened, and a figure came in, bearing a light in
-its hand, while, a second later, the door was closed and locked again
-from the outside; the heavy footsteps were heard by me retreating down
-the passage.
-
-The figure was that of "Juan" Belmonte.
-
-"You here?" I said, springing up, and then I advanced toward it, my
-hands outstretched, while my companion of so many days sprang to my
-arms, lay in them, sobbing as though with a broken heart.
-
-"Do not weep, do not weep," I said, and, as I spoke, my lips touched
-that white brow--no whiter now than all the rest of the face, "do not
-weep. What is, is, and must be borne."
-
-"My love, my love!" those other lips--whose rich crimson I had once
-marvelled at so much--sobbed forth now, "my love, how can I help but
-weep? Oh, Mervan, I have learnt to love you so, to worship you, for
-your strength and courage! And now to see you thus--thus! My God!"
-
-"Be brave still," I said; would have added "Juan"; only, not knowing,
-I paused.
-
-"What shall I call you?" I asked.
-
-"Juana."
-
-"Do they--the judges--know?"
-
-"The Alcáide knows: 'Tis through that knowledge I am here."
-
-"Why," I whispered, my arms about her as she clung to me, "why was
-this disguise assumed, these dangers run? Oh! Juana, since I learnt
-what you were in truth I have shuddered, sweated at the memories of
-your risks. What reason had you for coming to Europe as a man? and
-with such beauty, too! 'Tis marvellous it was never seen through."
-
-"They would not give passage to women in the galleons," she answered.
-"Therefore I came as I did; also I knew I might better find
-Eaton--confront him, in a garb, another sex, which would prevent him
-from recognising the little child he had treated so evilly." Then,
-suddenly, with a wail, she exclaimed: "Oh, my God! Mervan, I have not
-come to talk of this, but to be with you for our last hour; one hour
-before we die. The Alcáide has granted me that--and one other
-thing--on conditions;" and I felt her shudder in my arms.
-
-"Before we die," I repeated stupidly, saying most of her words over
-again. "Granted you this and one other thing--and on conditions. What
-conditions? Tell me all; make me to understand. _We_ die? Not you!
-They cannot slay you."
-
-From some neighbouring church a deep-toned bell was pealing solemnly
-as I spoke. Far down below, by the river banks, I heard the splash of
-some fishermen's boats as they went by to their night work--always,
-until my eyes close for the last time, I shall remember those sounds
-accompanying her words in answer to mine--shall hear them in my
-ears--her words: "I can slay myself."
-
-"Juana!"
-
-"Must slay myself," she went on, "there is no other way. Can I live
-without you--or, living, fullfil those conditions?" and, even as she
-said this, our lips met. "But," I asked, my voice hoarse with grief
-and misery, "what are they, and wherefore granted?"
-
-"He gives me one life--his--my father's! My God! he my father!--he
-will not give me yours because he thinks you are my lover--and--and
-the condition is that on the night when he is set free, I fly from
-Lugo with him, Morales, to Portugal. He will be safe there, he says.
-'Tis rumoured the king has joined England."
-
-"And you accept the terms?" I asked, bitterly, knowing that I loved
-this girl as fondly as she loved me. Had loved her since I discovered
-her sex as she reeled into my arms on that night. "You accept?"
-
-"I accept. Nay!" she exclaimed, "do not thrust me from you--you
-cannot doubt my love, my adoration. Else why am I here a prisoner in
-Lugo--why, except because I could not quit your side, could not tear
-myself from you?"
-
-"How then accept?"
-
-"Listen. I must save him. God!--he is my father--to my eternal shame!
-Yet--yet, being so, his soul must not go to seek its Maker yet--'tis
-too deeply drenched with crime, he must have time--time to live--to
-repent--to wash away his sins. Oh! Mervan, you are my love, my love,
-my first and only love--will be my last--yet--I must save him."
-
-"At what a cost! Your own perdition!"
-
-"No, no. Listen. Morales leaves here the day before my unhappy father
-is given his chance of escape--the door of his cell will be set open
-for him at night; none will bar his exit by a back way--I, too, shall
-be gone. Morales will take me with him in my own proper garb, that of
-a woman. Then--then--because I shall not believe in my father's
-freedom until I am sure of it, know it, he will join us at the
-frontier--not the one which we passed, but where the road crosses to
-Braganza at a place called Carvallos--and----"
-
-"You will keep your word!"
-
-"Yes. To myself--not him. My father will be safe--Morales unable to do
-more against him--I--I shall be dead. Once I am assured all is well
-with him I shall end my life. There will be nothing more to live for."
-
-"Suppose," I whispered, "suppose--it might be!--that I should escape,
-and, doing so, find you dead! Oh, Juana, how would it be with me then?
-How could I live?"
-
-"Ah, my love," she said, whispering, too, "can you not believe I have
-thought of that--believe that if all hope of your escaping was not
-gone I should not have decided thus? But, Mervan, you are a brave man,
-have faced death too often to fear to do so once again for the last
-time. Mervan, my love, my life--there is no hope. None. He has told
-me--he--Morales--that the morning after all are gone but you, you will
-surely be put to death. My own, my sweet, there is no hope."
-
-"If I could escape first----"
-
-"It is impossible. Impossible. Oh! I have begged him on my knees again
-and again to give you the same chance as he gives my father--have told
-him that, since he ruins himself to set free the one, it would cost
-him no more to let both go--yet, yet--he will not."
-
-"Why not?"
-
-"I have said. And he makes but a single answer. One is my father--the
-other my lover. Laughs, too, and says he does not jeopardise his own
-body--ruin for certain his own life in his own land--to fling that
-lover back into my arms."
-
-"Still, if he knows that until a few days ago I deemed you a boy----"
-
-"Knows it!" she exclaimed. "Oh, my God! have I not told him so a
-hundred times--sworn that we were but strangers thrown together scarce
-a month past; had never met before. And to all my vows and
-protestations he replies: 'Knowing you now to be a woman--as I have
-myself by chance discovered--he must love you as I do. I will not save
-him to steal you from me.'"
-
-"Yet, with this refusal on his lips, you yield--or appear to yield."
-
-"My father! My father!" she cried, flinging her arms madly around my
-neck. "My father! My father! For his sake I must yield. Oh, my love,
-my love, my love--I must."
-
- * * * * * * * * *
-
-I cannot write down--in absolute truth, cannot recall--our last sad
-parting, our frenzied words, our fond embraces. Suffice it that I say
-we tore ourselves apart at the sound of the mute's footsteps--that
-Juana was borne away almost insensible.
-
-For that we should never meet again in this world we recognised--we
-were parted forever. I had found and won--although till lately unknown
-to myself!--the most fond and loving heart that had ever yielded
-itself up to a man--found it only as I stood upon the brink of my
-grave.
-
-Yet if there were anything that could reconcile me to my loss of her
-it would be that grave, I knew; that--or the casting of my ashes to
-the wind after my body was consumed by the _braséro_--would bring the
-oblivion I desired. And, since she, too, meant to die the moment her
-father was safe, neither would be left to mourn the other. At least
-the oblivion of death would be the happy lot of both. Yet, as now the
-hours followed one another, as I heard them strike upon the bells of
-all the churches in this old city, and boom forth solemnly from the
-cathedral tower--wondering always, yet resignedly, when I should hear
-them for the last time; wondering, too, when the key would once more
-grate in the lock and I should be summoned to my doom--I cursed myself
-for never having penetrated Juan's disguise, for never having guessed
-she was a woman. Sir George Rooke had done so, I knew now; that was
-what he meant by his solemn warnings to me--fool that I was, not to be
-as far-seeing as he!
-
-There were many things, which I now recalled, that should also have
-opened my eyes--her timidity, her nervousness, the strange power of
-mustering up courage at a moment of imminent danger; also the frequent
-change of colour; the remaining in the inn kitchen all one night; the
-shriek for assistance at the barrier encounter. And yet I had been
-blind, and thought it was a boy who rode by my side through all the
-perils we had passed.
-
-I might have saved her had I but had more insight--might have
-refused to let her accompany me; have sternly ordered her to
-travel in some other way than along the danger-strewn path which I had
-come. She would have been safe now--what mattered it what had befallen
-me!--would have been free, with no hideous necessity of taking her own
-life to escape from the love which Morales forced upon her.
-
-Yet, as I tossed upon my pallet, thinking of all this--thinking, too,
-of how fondly I had come to love this girl, so dear to me now that we
-were lost to each other forever--I knew, I felt sure, that no stern
-commands issued to her to turn back and quit my side would have been
-of any avail; that, as she had once threatened, she would have
-followed me like a dog, have lain upon the step of the house wherein I
-slept, would never have quitted my side.
-
-For hers was the hot, burning love of the southern woman, of which I
-had often read and heard told by wanderers into far-off lands--the
-love that springs in a moment into those women's breasts, and, once
-born, is never quenched except by death--as, alas! hers was now to be
-quenched.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV.
-
-"AS THE NIGHT PASSETH AWAY."
-
-
-Still the days passed and I meditated on whether each as it came was
-to be my last. Wondered as every morning I watched the opening of the
-heavily clamped door, if, instead of my loaf and jar of water, that
-deaf and dumb jailer had come to summon me forth to my fate; and
-wondered again at what might cause the delay, since morning after
-morning his behaviour was ever the same, the bread always placed on
-the rough stone shelf that ran around the room, with the water by its
-side. That, and nothing more.
-
-That Juana had gone by now with the Alcáide, I thought must surely be
-the case. I had taken since that night when last we met--and parted
-forever--to scoring with a nail a mark daily on the whitewashed but
-filthy wall, so that thereby I might keep some count of the days as
-they went by, and now there were six of such marks there. Surely she
-was gone--surely, too, I thought, Gramont's escape had taken place by
-now--yet they came not for me. What did it mean?
-
-In my agony at the thought that by now, perhaps, Juana was dead by her
-own hand--I pictured her to myself using the small poniard I knew she
-carried, or the equally small pistol of which she was possessed--I
-groaned--nay! almost shrieked sometimes at my horrible picturings of
-her beautiful form and face stiff with death; in that agony I came to
-pray at last to God that the day or night which was passing over me
-might be my last. That He, in His supreme mercy, would see fit to
-inspire them with the resolve to make an end of me. Prayed that, by
-the time those never ceasing clocks without had struck once more the
-hour they were striking as I made my supplication, my soul might have
-left my body--that that body might be no more than a heap of ashes.
-
-For I could bear my existence no longer. My thoughts--of my beauteous
-mistress lying in death's hideous grasp, of my poor old father, and
-the misery which would be his--not at my falling like a soldier, but
-at the mystery which would forever enshroud my death--were more than I
-could support.
-
-But still another day passed--the seventh--and still again at daybreak
-there was no summons to me to go forth and meet my fate. Yet, since by
-the increased pealings of the bells, and by the ringing of some
-sweeter sounding ones than those usually heard, I knew it was the
-Sabbath I wondered that my doom had not come. For the Sabbath was, I
-remembered, the day of execution in this land, because 'tis always a
-fęte day, when the people are at leisure to be excited and amused.
-
-That day passed, however, the night drew on, the dark had come; and
-still I was alive; had before me another night of horror and of mortal
-agony unspeakable to endure.
-
-From my ghastly, silent warder I had tried more than once to obtain
-some hint, or information, as to when I might expect my sentence to be
-carried out--if I could have learnt that, I should have known also
-that Gramont was gone--was free--that, my God! Juana was dead, or near
-to her death. But as well might I have asked the walls of this cell in
-which I was, for a word or sign. I wrote on those walls with the nail
-a question--_the_ question: "When am I to die?" and he stared as
-stolidly at it as though he were no more able to see than to speak or
-hear. Thinking, perhaps, that he could not read, I made sighs upon my
-fingers to him, at all of which he shook his head, though what he
-meant to convey I know not. Yet, had my mind not been so distraught, I
-should have remembered that, perhaps, if he could not understand the
-one neither could he the other. Reflecting later on, however, I felt
-sure that he was able to do both--it was the only way in which one so
-afflicted as he was could have been made to understand his orders;
-and, still later, I knew that such was the case. And now, on that
-Sunday, as the horrid gloom of the winter night enveloped all the
-country around, while up from the pastures and fields there rose a
-vapour or fog, I took a terrible resolve, driven thereto by the misery
-of my reflections.
-
-I determined that, if my death by the hands of the executioner came
-not to-morrow, I would take my own life. I could endure no longer,
-could think no more upon Juana as a dead woman, as one slain by her
-own hand.
-
-"Oh! Juana, Juana," I wailed more than once, "my lost Juana." Then
-added, with fierceness, "Yet--no matter. We meet to-morrow at the
-latest."
-
-Though they had taken my weapons from me ere they brought me here,
-there was enough of opportunity to my hand for accomplishing my
-purpose. There was the nail I had found--my sash, or belt--my
-cravat--either would serve for my purpose if I was brave enough to
-accomplish it.
-
-"Brave enough--brave enough!" I found myself repeating. "Brave enough!
-Or," I whispered, "cowardly enough? Which is it? Which?"
-
-And, as still the long hours of the night went on, and I lay on my
-pallet staring up into the darkness, listening to the hours told over
-and over again by the bells, until my soul sickened at their sound,
-watching a glint of the moon's rays on the metal roof of the
-cathedral, I answered my own question, reasoned with myself that
-self-destruction was the coward's, not the brave man's, act, and
-resolved at last to cast that awful resolution behind me, to endure
-and meet my fate like a man, as a gallant soldier should.
-
-And so, eased--I scarce knew why--by my determination, I fell at last
-into a tranquil sleep, and dreamt that I was back in England, walking
-in my father's old flower garden in the Weald, with my love, Juana, by
-my side.
-
-Some unaccustomed noise awoke me from that fair dream--something to
-which I was not used in the long silence of the nights--some sound
-which, as I raised myself on my elbow and peered around the cell, I
-could not understand; for in that cell there was no other presence, as
-for a moment I had imagined when I sprang up, half asleep and half
-awake; the moon, which had now overtopped the cathedral towers, showed
-that plain enough. Deep scurrying clouds were passing beneath her face
-swiftly--obscuring sometimes her brilliancy for some moments, 'tis
-true; yet, as she emerged now and again from them, her flood poured in
-and lit up the whole chamber. There was no one in it but myself!
-
-What, therefore, was the sound I had heard? Stealthy footsteps
-outside?--those of my doomsmen, perhaps!--or was it some silent
-executioner about to steal in on me in the night, thereby to prevent
-the publicity of a death in the market place--a death which might by
-chance be reported to my own countrymen afar off, and like enough, if
-the war rolled down this way, be bitterly avenged? Was that it?
-
-Again beneath the moon there passed heavy clouds, extinguishing her
-light so that for a moment my prison was once more steeped in
-darkness--I found myself thinking that there would be snow ere
-morning; that, if that morning brought my death, 'twould be a
-bleak and wintry scene which the flames of the _braséro_ would
-illuminate!--then through a break in those clouds a ray stole forth, a
-ray that glinted in through the iron bars of the window grate, across
-the stone-flagged floor, and onward to the heavily clamped door, then
-was arrested there--one spot shining out amidst those beams with the
-brightness and the dazzle of a diamond.
-
-What was that thing, that spot on which the ray glinted so?
-
-Creeping toward the door, as silently and lightly as I could go, I
-reached it, put out my finger and touched that gleaming spark, and
-found that it proceeded from the extremity of a key which was in the
-lock and which now protruded by a trifle into the room. It was the
-insertion of that key which had awakened me.
-
-Yet--what did it mean, and why, when once in the lock, was it not
-turned; why not followed by the entry of one or more persons into the
-cell?
-
-Were they coming back later to fall on me? Had the key been first
-inserted by some who had withdrawn directly afterward, so that, if the
-noise awakened me, I should sleep again shortly, when they could
-return to finish their work? This must be the true explanation--I was
-to be executed in the depth of the night when all were asleep in the
-old town, when no cry of anguish, no scream from one being done to
-death, would be heard.
-
-"Yet," I thought to myself, "these precautions are useless. As well
-here as in the flames to-morrow. What matters where or how?"
-
-At that moment my ears caught a sound--something was passing down the
-stone passage outside--something that was not the heavy tread of the
-jailer. Instead, a muffled sound--yet perceptible to me. A shuffling,
-scraping sound as though one who was shoeless was dragging each foot
-carefully along after the other.
-
-Then I saw the end of the key which projected through the lock turn--I
-saw it sparkle in the moon's rays--once it grated harshly, creaked!
-And, slowly, a moment afterward the door opened inward, leaving the
-passage outside dark and cavernous. He who had so opened it with one
-hand carried no light in the other.
-
-Stepping back from it, watching what should happen next--yet, I swear
-before heaven, with no fear at my heart--why should there be, since I
-desired to die and join my love? yet still with that heart beating
-loudly from excitement--I saw the blackness of the doorway blurred
-with a deeper intensity by a form standing outside it. I saw the
-moonbeams reach that form, lighting it up for a moment and glistening
-on the eyes of it. I saw before me the great figure and heavy, stolid
-face of my dumb, impenetrable jailer. The mute! Also observed that
-under his arm he carried something long--a sword.
-
-His eyes upon me, he advanced into the cell--I seeing that his feet
-were bare except for thick, coarse stockings which he wore--yet making
-no motion as though to attack me, his action not such as would have
-rendered a more desperate man than myself resolved to defend himself.
-Then slowly, while I, my back against the farthest wall, stared at him
-more in wonder than in awe, he raised the arm under which the sword
-was not borne, and motioned to me with his finger, crooked somewhat,
-to follow him, pointing a moment afterward down the dark passage.
-
-"So," I whispered to myself, drawing a deep breath as I did so, "the
-hour has come. He bids me follow him. I understand--it is to be done
-before daylight. Well, I am ready. God give me strength and pardon
-me."
-
-Then I made ready to follow him, while he, observing this, prepared to
-lead the way.
-
-All was profound and dark outside that cell when once we were in the
-passage--so dark that, ere I had barely reached it, I felt his great
-hand upon my arm, felt him clutching my sleeves between his fingers.
-And thus together we went on, he silent as a corpse, except for his
-breathing, which sometimes I heard--sometimes, too, felt upon my
-cheek--I going to my death.
-
-One thing I noticed, even in these moments of intensity. We went the
-opposite way from that by which I had first been brought--the opposite
-way from which his footsteps, when he had been shod, had invariably
-sounded; also the opposite way from which my love had come to bid me a
-last farewell, and had been carried insensible after our parting.
-
-Whither was I being taken?
-
-The end of the corridor was reached in the darkness; I knew that by
-the fact that his grasp tightened perceptibly on my sleeve; also that,
-by a pressure of his fingers on it, he was turning me somewhat to the
-left; likewise, that grasp put a degree of curb upon me; a moment
-later seemed to signify that I was to go on again. And it felt to me
-that, in a way, I was being supported--held up.
-
-Another instant, and I knew why. We were descending stairs--on the way
-down, doubtless, to some exit that should lead to my place of doom!
-Still I resisted not. One path to oblivion served as well as another.
-
-By the manner in which the steps were cut I knew at once that we were
-in some tower, and that the stairs were circular; also my hand, which
-I kept against the side, told me the same thing. Moreover, there were
-_[oe]illets_, or arrow slits, in the wall, through which I could see
-the moon shining on another wall, which seemed to be some fifty paces
-off--probably, I thought, the opposite wall of some courtyard built
-into, or by the side of, the huge ramparts.
-
-Of sound there was none, no noise of any kind, no tramp of sentry to
-be heard, although I knew well enough that on the ramparts themselves
-soldiers were kept constantly on guard. Nothing; all as still as
-death, the death to which I was being led.
-
-At last the stairs ended. My feet told me we were on the level now, a
-level into which they sank somewhat as I took step after step, whereby
-I judged that we were walking on sand, and wondered in what part of
-that prison, of those huge ramparts, we might be. Surely, I thought,
-some lowermost vault or dungeon, perhaps beneath the foundations of
-the structure, beneath the rocks between which the river flowed.
-
-"My God!" I murmured to myself, "is this my fate? To be immured
-forever in some dark dungeon in the bowels of the earth, where neither
-light, nor sound--never hope--can come again. Better death at once,
-swift and merciful, than this. Far better."
-
-Yet almost it seemed to my now frighted heart that this alone could be
-the case.
-
-The air reeked and was clammy, as though with long confinement in this
-underground place, and by remaining ever unrefreshed from without by
-heaven's pure breezes was mawkish and sickly as the breath of a
-charnel house--perhaps 'twas one!--perhaps those who died here were
-left to fester and moulder away till their corpses turned to skeletons
-and their skeletons to dust; to die here, where no cry for help could
-issue forth, no more than any sound except a muffled one could
-penetrate, as I knew at this moment, for far above I heard a deep boom
-that seemed like the muffled roar of a cannon--a sound that was in
-truth the eternal bell of the cathedral telling the hour; also another
-broke on my ear--a swift, rushing noise, yet deadened, too--the sound,
-I thought, of the Minho passing near.
-
-Then, all at once--as I knew that the sickly, reeking air would choke
-me, felt sure that ere many paces more had been traversed I must reel
-and fall upon that sanded floor--there blew upon my face a gust of
-air--oh! God! it was as though I had changed a monumental vault all
-full of rankling dead for some pure forest through which fresh breezes
-swept--far down toward where my dimmed eyes gazed I saw a glimmer of
-something that looked like the light of a coming dawn.
-
-And I thanked heaven that, at least, these horrid vaults were not to
-be my prison or my grave; that, let whatever might befall me, my
-punishment was not to be dealt out here.
-
-And ever still as I went on that stricken man walked by my side, held
-my arm with his hand, and directed the way toward the sombre light
-that gleamed afar.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVI.
-
-WHAT HAS HAPPENED?
-
-
-The light increased as we advanced; the space it occupied grew larger;
-also it seemed to be entering at what I now judged to be the mouth, or
-exit, of some narrow, vaulted passage, through which we were
-progressing and arriving at the end of; almost, too, it seemed as if
-this passage was itself growing less dark; as if now--as I turned my
-eyes to where the mute walked by my side--the outline of his form was
-becoming visible.
-
-What was I to find at the end of this outlet--what to see awaiting me
-when at last I stood at the opening in the midst of the wintry dawn--a
-scaffold, or the _braséro?_ Which? I perceived now--my eyes
-accustoming themselves to the dusky gloom--that this vaulted way, or
-corridor, was one hewn through a bed of rock, and roughly, too,
-blasted, perhaps, in earlier days; and that all along its sides were
-great slabs, or masses, of this rock, that lay where they had fallen.
-Perceived something else, also--a man crouching down behind one of the
-fallen blocks, his cape held across his face by one hand, so that
-naught but the eyes were visible; the eyes--and one other thing that
-shone and glistened even in the surrounding gloom--a huge gold
-earring, of the circumference of a crown-piece, which fell over the
-crimson edge, or guarding, of that cloak.
-
-Where had I seen a man wearing such earrings as that before? Where?
-Then, even as I went on to my death, I remembered--recalled the man.
-'Twas he who had cried out to the Alcáide in the court, bidding him
-question Eaton as to how he knew so much of Gramont's past--yet--what
-doing here, why hiding behind that fallen mass? Was there some one
-within these dungeons whom he sought--some one for whom an attempted
-rescue was to be planned? I knew of none--knew of no other prisoner
-within these walls--since now Gramont was, must be, as far away as his
-unhappy child--my lost love, Juana. Yet, perhaps, it was not very like
-I should have known.
-
-But now the end was at hand. I scarce cared to turn my eyes to observe
-whether or not the mute had seen the sailor shrinking behind the
-stone; instead, nerved myself, by both prayer and fierce
-determination, to meet my fate, to make my exit into the open as
-bravely as became a man; to let not one of my executioners see that I
-feared them or the flames that were to burn the life out of me.
-
-So we drew near the mouth of the passage--moving through the gloom
-that was as the gloom of a shuttered and darkened house on some wintry
-morn--I seeing that, beyond and outside, was a sloping, stone-flagged
-decline that led down to a lane which ran out into the open country
-beyond. We were, therefore, outside the walls of Lugo, and I deemed
-that it was here, unknown to the townspeople, that I was to meet my
-fate.
-
-We stood a moment later on that stone-covered descent, and I gazed
-around it startled--amazed! For here, upon it, was no hideous
-_braséro_ piled up with logs of wood, and drenched with resin and
-pitch to make those logs burn more fiercely; no upright plank nor beam
-against which the sufferer's hand--my hand!--was to be nailed through
-the palm; no executioners clad in black from head to foot. Instead, a
-man in peasant's dress--green breeches, leather _zapátas_ and a
-sheepskin jacket. A peasant holding by the reins two horses, one
-black, the other dappled grey.
-
-I felt almost as though once more I should faint--felt as I had done
-in that reeking, mouldy corridor through which I had come--became
-sick, indeed, at the relief, even though 'twere for an hour or so
-only, which was accorded me from instant death, since I knew that here
-that death could not be dealt out.
-
-Then I turned to the deaf and dumb man--if such he was--who had now
-released my arm--had done so, indeed, since the half light had been
-reached--and implored him to tell me what was intended.
-
-For answer--he guessed, no doubt, the import of my words--he pointed
-to the horses and made signs I should mount one of them. And I,
-incredulous, asking God inwardly what was meant, went toward the black
-one and seizing its reins and twisting a lock of its mane around my
-thumb prepared to do as I was bid, yet with my nerves tingling and
-trembling so that I scarce knew whether I could reach the saddle or
-not.
-
-Then, ere the attempt was made, as I raised my foot to the iron, the
-mute touched my arm, felt in his belt with the other hand and,
-producing a piece of paper, gave it to me.
-
-It was from Juana; ran thus in English:
-
-
-Your road is through Samos, Caldelas and the other Viana. At Terroso
-you will cross the frontier. The jailer will guide you to us. Come
-quickly, so that thereby my fate may be decided.
-
- Juana.
-
-
-That was all. All--from her to me! From her to me! No word of love
-accompanying the message. Not one!
-
-She had saved me in some way--had induced the Alcáide to bring about
-my escape also--had done this, yet could send me no greeting such as
-she must have known I hungered for. Was it shame, remorse, that made
-her so silent and so cold? Heartbroken, I thrust the letter into my
-pocket, and, at a sign from the mute, mounted the horse, he doing the
-same with the other.
-
-Then, ere we gave them their reins, he leant across and put into my
-hands the sword he had carried under his arm since first he opened the
-door of my cell; a sword long and serviceable-looking, with a great
-hilt and curled quillon; one that I had seen another like somewhere,
-though where it was I could not recall.
-
- * * * * * * * * *
-
-'Twas over twenty leagues to Terroso, I learnt in the course of our
-ride. Diminishing those leagues moment by moment, we went on and on,
-the black horse that I bestrode never faltering in its quick pace, the
-grey keeping close to it.
-
-And I, my brain whirling, my heart beating tumultuously within my
-breast, my whole being--my soul!--shaken by the release from an awful
-death which had come to me, would have given all that I was possessed
-of if from that stricken, silent, terrible companion by my side I
-could have extracted one word--gleaned from him one jot or atom of
-information! Yet to my repeated exclamations he, seeing that I was
-speaking to him, shook his head persistently; when I made signs to him
-in the alphabet which I felt sure he knew, he turned his face away and
-rode on stolidly. Had a dead man, a spectre, been riding ever by my
-side, swiftly when I rode swiftly, halting when I halted, neither
-could have been more terrible to me than this living creature, so
-immutable and impenetrable.
-
-I was sore beset--distraught, my mind full of fearful fancies! Fancies
-that I should find Juana dead--though, too, I imagined that she would
-not slay herself until she had made sure of my safety, else why her
-letter?--fancies that, since the letter contained no word or hint of
-love, she had forced herself to tear me out of her heart forever;
-forced herself to do so because now she knew she could never be aught
-to me again. These fancies, these thoughts, were awful in their
-intensity; were made doubly so by this silent creature who never
-quitted my side.
-
-And once my agony of nerves grew so great that I turned round upon
-him--gesticulating fiercely--hating myself for my brutality in doing
-so against one who was, in truth, my saviour--shrieking at him:
-
-"Speak! Speak! For God's sake, speak! Utter some word. Give some sign
-of being alive--a reasoning thing. Speak, I say, or leave me--else I
-shall slay you."
-
-Then I shuddered and could have slain my own self at the man's action.
-
-For he turned and looked at me--it was in the fast gathering
-twilight, as side by side always, we were slowly riding up a mountain
-path--looked--then, as I gazed, the tears rolled down his coarse face!
-And, poor unhappy, afflicted thing! those tears continued to trickle
-down that face till night hid it from my eyes.
-
-I knew now that he understood at least, that he comprehended the words
-of pity and remorse I poured forth before the darkness came; at least
-the touch I made gently on his sleeve was read aright by him. For on
-his broad, expressionless face, to me for so long a stolid mask, there
-came a placid smile, and once he returned my touch lightly as still we
-rode on, and on, and on.
-
-We halted that night to rest our horses and ourselves at a miserable
-inn, high up in the mountains, a place round which the snow was
-falling in great flakes, that seemed, indeed, to be embedded in snow.
-A ghastly, horrid place in which, as I sat shuddering by the fire,
-while my companion and the landlord slept near it--wondering if by now
-Juana had accomplished her dreadful purpose, unable longer to bear the
-company of the man, Morales, to whom she had sold herself; or, almost
-worse still, the company of her sin stained father; wondering too, if
-by now that splendid form was stiff in death!--I almost cursed the
-escape that had come to me. In truth, I think that now, upon this
-night, amidst the horrors of this lonely mountain inn, I was almost a
-madman; for the soft beat of the flakes upon the glass of the window
-seemed to my frenzied mind like the tapping of ghostly fingers; as I
-fixed my eyes upon those flakes and saw them alight one by one upon
-the panes and then dissolve and vanish, it looked to me as though they
-were fingers that scratched at the window and were withdrawn only to
-return a moment later. Also the wind screamed round the house--I
-started once, feeling sure I heard a woman--Juana--shriek my name,
-plucked at the sword by my side and would have made for the door, but
-that the landlord laughed at me and pushed me back, saying that those
-shrieks were heard nightly and all through the night during the
-winter.
-
-At last, however, I slept, wrapped in my cloak before the peat fire,
-the mute in another chair by my side. And so, somehow, the night wore
-through. The morning came, and we were on our road once more, ten
-leagues still to be compassed ere the frontier was reached, with,
-behind us, as now I gathered from my mutilated companion's manner in
-answer to my questions, the possibility that we might be pursued. That
-after us, in hot chase, might be coming some from Lugo who had
-discovered our escape.
-
-The mountain water courses and rivulets hummed beneath the frozen snow
-bound over them by the bitter frost, the tree boughs waved above our
-heads and across our path as, gradually descending once more to the
-plain, the chestnuts and the oak trees took the place of the gaunt
-black pines left behind above; once on this bitter morning we saw the
-sun steal out from amidst the clouds--lying down low on the horizon as
-though setting instead of rising. Yet on we rode for our lives, with
-upon me a deeper desire than the salvation of my own existence--the
-hope that I should be in time to save Juana, to wrench her from
-Morales ere it was too late, to bear her away at last to happiness and
-love unspeakable. Rode on, my black horse stumbling once over a mass
-of stone rolled down from the heights above; the dappled grey coming
-to its haunches from a similar cause, yet both lifted quickly by a
-sharp turn of our wrists and rushing on again down the declivity,
-danger in every stride and only avoided by God's mercy.
-
-The leagues flew by--were left behind--a long billowy plain arrived
-at, sprinkled with hamlets from which the cheerful smoke rose to the
-sky; the mute had passes which took us through that other town of
-Viana; the last spot of importance was reached--and passed!--that lay
-between us and the border--between us and Portugal and safety.
-
-Then once more our beasts slackened in their stride, again the ground
-rose upward, once more the hills were before us, above them at the
-summit was the frontier, Terroso. Another hour and we should be
-there--Juana's and my fate determined.
-
-To use whips--neither of us had spurs--was cruel, yet there was no
-other way; therefore we plied them, pressed reeking flanks, rode on
-and on mercilessly. And now the end was at hand; afar off I saw a
-cabin over which floated both the banner of Spain and of Portugal. We
-were there some moments later--the mute's papers again examined--our
-passage allowed.
-
-We had escaped from Spain!
-
-"You ride quickly," the Portuguese _aduanista_ said; "seek some
-others, perhaps, who come before you?" and he addressed himself to my
-companion, probably because he bore the passports. Then continued: "If
-'tis a seńor and seńora you desire, they are in the _fonda_ half a
-league further on."
-
-"_They_," he said, "'_They!_' God be praised!" I murmured. Had any
-tragedy occurred it would not have been "they."
-
-Not waiting to answer, but briefly nodding my thanks, we went on, the
-last half league dwindling to little more than paces now.
-
-And then I saw the _fonda_, a place no bigger than a wooden cabin, I
-saw a woman seated on a bench outside against its wall, her elbows
-upon her knees, her dark head buried in her hands.
-
-She heard the ring of our horses' hoofs upon the road, all sodden as
-it was with half-melted snow, and sprang to her feet--then advanced
-some paces and, shading her eyes, looked up the way that we were
-coming; dashed next her hand across those eyes as though doubting what
-she saw, and ran down the road toward us.
-
-As I leapt from my horse she screamed, "Mervan!" and threw herself
-into my arms, her lips meeting mine in one long kiss, then staggered
-back some paces from me, exclaiming:
-
-"How! How, oh, my love, how--how have you escaped--found your way
-here--to me?"
-
-"How?" I repeated after her, startled at the question; startled, too,
-at the tone of her voice. "How! Do I not owe my salvation to you--to
-your power over him--the Alcáide?"
-
-"My God! No!" she answered. "Never would he have aided you to escape."
-Then, suddenly, as some thought struck her, she screamed aloud:
-"Mervan--Mervan--where is my unhappy father?"
-
-"Your father! Is he not here?"
-
-"No! No! No! Oh, God! what has happened? Has he been left behind to
-meet his doom?"
-
-And, as she spoke, she reeled and would have fallen had I not caught
-her in my arms.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVII.
-
-"LIAR, I WILL KILL YOU!"
-
-
-He had been left behind--and I was here! He whose escape had been
-arranged for was still a prisoner--I, whose doom had been fixed, was
-free.
-
-What did it mean? What mystery had taken place?
-
-One glance toward the _fonda_ fifty yards away was sufficient to show
-that mystery there was--as unintelligible to another as to Juana. And
-more than mystery!--that my presence here was as hateful as
-unexpected, to one person at least. To Morales, the Alcáide!
-
-For even as my love recovered sufficiently to be able to stand without
-my assistance, though still leaning heavily upon me, I--looking toward
-that _fonda_--saw Morales issuing rapidly from it, his sword carried
-in his left hand, his right hand plucking the blade from the scabbard.
-And--more ominous still of what his intentions were, as well as of his
-fury!--as he ran toward us he flung the now empty sheath away from him
-and rushed forward, the bare blade gleaming.
-
-Then as he reached the spot where we both stood together, the mute
-behind us--while, even as I too plucked the sword the poor creature
-had furnished me with from its scabbard and stood upon my guard, I
-saw that his stolid face expressed not only fear but something
-else--astonishment!--Morales shouted, his words tumbling pell mell
-over each other so much as to be difficult of understanding.
-
-"Wretches! Traitor! Traitress! 'Tis thus I am deceived--hoodwinked!
-Tricked and ruined so that your lover may be restored to your false
-arms. So be it--thus, also, I avenge myself," and--horror!--he made a
-pass at Juana as she stood by my side. He was a Spaniard--and his love
-had turned to hate and gall!
-
-Yet ere the shriek she uttered had ceased to ring on the wintry
-morning air, the deadly thrust that was aimed full at her breast was
-parried by my own blade; putting her behind me with my left hand, I
-struck full at him, resolved that ere another five minutes were over
-his own life should pay for that craven attempt; struck full at his
-own breast, missing it only by an inch, yet driving him back from me.
-
-Back, step by step, yet knowing even as I did so that' it was no odds
-on me in this encounter, that here was a swordsman who would dispute
-every thrust of mine; that it would be lucky if his long blade did not
-thread my ribs ere my own weapon found his heart.
-
-It behooved me to be careful, I knew. Already, in the first moment, he
-had settled down to fighting carefully and cautiously; already one
-devilish Italian thrust was given--he must have crossed the Alps, I
-thought, to learn it!--that almost took me unawares; that, had my
-parry not been quick, would have brought his quillon hurtling at my
-breast, with the blade through me. Yet, it had failed! and with the
-failure the chance was gone.
-
-"I know your thrust," I whispered, maybe hissed, at him; "'twill serve
-no more."
-
-But even as I said these words it came to me that I should not win
-this fight, that he was the better man--my master--at the game--that I
-was lost. And as I thought this I saw--while we shifted ground a
-little on the sodden snow--the mute standing gazing earnestly, almost
-fascinated, upon us; I saw some people at the door of the _fonda_--a
-man and a woman--regarding us with horror-stricken glances--I saw
-Juana on her knees, perhaps praying! It might be so, since her head
-was buried in her hands!
-
-And if he won, if he slew me, even wounded and disabled me, she was
-lost, too; with me out of the way, with her father dead or still a
-prisoner, nothing could save her. Her last hope would be gone.
-
-That spurred me, egged me on, put a fierce and fresh determination in
-my heart, since I had not lost my courage, but only my confidence.
-That, and one other thing; for I saw upon the melting snow beneath our
-feet, even as we trod it into water, a tinge of crimson; I saw a few
-drops lie spotting it--and I knew that that blood was not mine.
-Therefore, I had touched him, had only missed his life by a hair's
-breadth; next time it might not be drops--might be the heart's blood
-of him who had sought that of my loved one!
-
-Still, I could not do it, could not thrust through and through him.
-Every drive, every assault, was parried easily. Once, when I lunged so
-near him that I heard his silk waistcoat rip, he laughed a low,
-mocking laugh as he thrust my blade aside with a turn of his iron
-wrist; I could not even, as I tried, take him in the sword arm and so
-disable him.
-
-Also, I knew what was in his mind, specially since, for some few
-moments, he had ceased to thrust back at me. He was bent on tiring me
-out. Then--then--his opportunity would have come, would be at hand.
-
-"Disable him! Disable him!" Why did those words haunt my brain, ring
-through it again and again; seem to deaden even the scraping hiss of
-steel against steel. "Disable him!" What memory was arising in that
-brain of some one, something, long forgotten? A second later, even as
-I felt my point bring pressed lower and lower by his own blade, knew a
-lunge was coming--parried it as it came--safely once more, thank
-God!--I remembered, knew what that memory meant.
-
-Recalled a little, hunchbacked Italian _escrimeur_ who used to haunt a
-fence school at the back of the Exchange in the Strand; a man whose
-knowledge of attack was poor in the extreme, yet who could earn a
-beggar's wage by teaching some marvellous methods of disarming an
-adversary. And I had flung him a crown more than once to be taught his
-tricks!
-
-Now those crowns should bear interest!
-
-I changed my tactics, lunged no more; our blades became silent; they
-ceased to hiss like drops of water falling on live coals or hot iron;
-almost they lay motionless together, mine over his, yet I feeling
-through blade and hilt the strength of that black, hairy wrist which
-held the other weapon. Also, I think he felt the strength of mine;
-once his eye shifted, though had the moment been any other the shift
-would have been unnoticeable.
-
-That was my time! Swift as lightning, I, remembering the dwarf's
-lessons of long ago--why did I remember also the little sniggering
-chuckle he used to utter as he taught them?--drew back my sword an
-inch, then thrust, then back again with a sharp wrench, and, lo!
-Morales' sword was flying through the air three feet above his
-head--he was weaponless! My own was drawn back a second later, another
-moment I should have avenged his assassin's thrust at Juana--yet I
-could not do it. For he, recognising he was doomed, stood there before
-me, his arms folded over his breast, his eyes confronting mine.
-
-"Curse you!" he said, "you have won. Well--kill me. At once."
-
-No need for me to say that could not be. In the moment that I twisted
-his weapon out of his wrist I had meant to slay him, had drawn back my
-own weapon to thrust it through chest and lungs and back, and stretch
-him dead at my feet--yet now I spared him.
-
-Villain as he was--scoundrel who would traffic with a broken-hearted
-woman for her honour and her soul as a set-off against her father's
-safety, and, in doing so, also betray the country he served--I could
-not slay a defenceless man.
-
-His sword had fallen at my feet; one of them was upon it. I motioned
-to him now to return to the _fonda_--to begone.
-
-"You have missed your quarry," I said; "'twill never fall to your lure
-again. Away!"
-
-Yet, still standing there before us--for now Juana had once more flown
-to my side, and was sobbing bitterly, her wild, passionate words
-expressing partly her thanks to God for my double safety, and partly
-her bewailings that her father had gone to his fate--he had something
-to say, could not depart without a malediction.
-
-"Curse you both!" he exclaimed once more. "Curse you! Had I known of
-your trick you should all have burnt and grilled on the _braséro_ ere
-this--ay, even you, wanton!--ere I had let you fool me so."
-
-Then he turned away as though to go back to the _fonda_, yet returned
-again, and, striding back to where the mute stood motionless, his
-expression one of absolute vacancy--as though, in truth, he was only
-now become dumb from utter surprise--he struck at him full in the face
-with his clenched fist.
-
-"Dolt, idiot, hound!" he said. "Was it to aid in such treachery
-against me as this that I saved you from the Inquisition? God! that I
-had left them to take your useless life! Dumb fool!"
-
-I, standing there, with Juana still clinging to my neck, as she had
-done since the duel was over, saw the man stagger back and wipe the
-blood from his lips; saw, too, his hands clench firmly; saw him take
-one step forward, as though he meant to throw himself upon Morales;
-then stop suddenly, and do nothing. Perhaps even now, after this foul
-blow, he remembered that he had been saved from death once by him who
-struck that blow.
-
-But a moment later he approached the Alcáide, though now humbly, and
-like a beaten slave who sues for pardon, and entreats that no further
-punishment shall be dealt out to him, and, an instant after, began,
-with fingers and hands and many strange motions, to tell his master
-something--something in a dumb language that was, still, not the deaf
-and dumb language in common use, and which I myself chanced to know,
-yet one that none could doubt both of these men were in the habit of
-conversing in.
-
-He was telling some strange tale, I saw and understood by one glance
-at my late opponent's face; neither could any doubt that who gazed
-upon it!
-
-At first that face expressed amazement, incredulity--all the emotions
-that are to be observed on the countenance of one who listens to some
-story which he either cannot believe, or thinks issues, at best, from
-a maniac. Yet gradually, too, there came over the face of Morales
-another look--the look of one who does believe at last, in spite of
-himself; also there dawned on it a hideous, gloating expression, such
-as might befit a fiend who listens to the tortured cries of a victim.
-
-What did it mean? What tale was that stricken creature telling him by
-those symbols, which none but he understood? What? What?
-
-A moment later we knew--if Morales did not lie to us.
-
-The mute had ceased his narrative, his hands made no further signs,
-and, slowly, he stepped back again to where the horses we had
-travelled on stood together, the reins of one tied to the other--and
-Morales turned to us, his features still convulsed with that horrible
-expression of gloating.
-
-"I have wronged you," he said, raising his forefinger and pointing it
-at Juana, who shuddered and clasped me closer even as he did so; "and
-you," glancing at me. "The treachery was not yours, but another's;
-unless--unless"--and he paused as though seeking for words--"unless it
-should be termed otherwise. Say, not treachery, but--sublime
-sacrifice."
-
-"What!" from both her lips and mine. "What!"
-
-"Your father," he said, "had his chance"--and again that forefinger
-was pointed at her--"this poor fool, my servant, went to set him free;
-the horse was waiting for him--only, instead, it has borne _you_ to
-safety"--and now he glanced at me--"also there was his sword for
-him--that by your side."
-
-"My God! My God!" I heard Juana whisper on my breast.
-
-"Only he--this buccaneer--would not accept it, not take it. He,
-stained deep with crime as he was, his name an accursed one through
-all the Indies--men spit upon the ground there, they say, with
-loathing when they hear it mentioned, even now--could bear all things
-but one. Shall I tell you what that one thing is?" and he glanced
-again at Juana, a very hell of hate in his look.
-
-But she could only moan upon my bosom and murmur: "My father! Oh, my
-father!"
-
-"He could not bear," Morales went on, "that his child should be what
-he knew she had become by now--my friend----"
-
-"Liar!" I cried. "I will kill you for this."
-
-"Could not bear that she should bring deeper disgrace than even he had
-done upon your tainted names. Therefore he refused to come; therefore
-he preferred the flames to which he has gone"--a wild, piercing scream
-broke from Juana as he said those words--"and--so--so--that there
-should be nothing rise up to prevent him from going to his death, so
-that he should put away from himself all chance of salvation from that
-death and earn his oblivion from disgrace, he persuaded this fool that
-a mistake had been made--that 'twas you, not he, who was to be saved,
-allowed to escape."
-
-"You lie," I said again. "You lie. Some part of this story is true,
-some false, Gramont never believed that she would give herself to you;
-knew that she meant to slay herself the instant she was assured of his
-safety. Spanish dog, you lie, and I will have your life for it."
-
-"It is true," he said hoarsely, "as true as that an hour after you
-left Lugo he was led out and burnt at the _braséro_--the _braséro_
-that was prepared for you. Now," and once more he addressed Juana,
-"you have your lover back again--be happy in the possession; in the
-knowledge that his life is saved by the loss of your father's. Be
-happy in that."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII.
-
-THE DEAD MAN'S EYES--THE DEAD MAN'S HANDS.
-
-
-Was Juana dying, I asked myself that night--dying of misery and of all
-that she had gone through? God, He only knew--soon I should know, too.
-
-Ere I had carried her to the _fonda_, Morales had disappeared, his
-afflicted follower with him--ere we reached the miserable room, in
-which she had passed the two nights that had elapsed since she had
-come here with him who had bartered for the sacrifice of her honour
-against her father's safety, I heard the trample of horses' hoofs, I
-saw from the inn window both those men ride swiftly away, their road
-being that which led on into Portugal.
-
-It was not possible that I should follow him and exact vengeance for
-all that he had done or attempted to do against her, force him once
-more to an encounter, disarm him again--and, when he was thus
-disarmed, spare him no further. Not possible, because, henceforth, my
-place was by her side. I must never leave her again in life--leave her
-who had come to this through her love of me, her determination to
-follow me through danger after danger, reckless of what might befall.
-
-She lay now upon her bed, feverish and sometimes incoherent, yet, at
-others, sane and in her right mind, and it was at one of such moments
-as these that I, sitting by her side, heard her whisper:
-
-"Mervan, where is that man--Morales?"
-
-"He is gone, dear heart; he will trouble you no more.
-And--and--remember we are free. As soon as you are restored we can
-leave here--there is nothing to stop us now. My journey through Spain
-and France can never be recommenced--we must make for England by sea
-somehow. Then, when I have placed you in safety, I must find my way
-across to Flanders."
-
-For a while she lay silent after I had said this; lay there, her
-lustrous eyes open, and with the fever heightening and intensifying,
-if such were possible, her marvellous beauty. For now the carmine of
-her cheeks and lips was--although fever's ensign!--even more
-strikingly lovely than before; this woman on whom I gazed so fondly
-was beyond all compare the most beautiful creature on which my eyes
-had ever rested. As I had thought at first, so, doubly, I thought now.
-
-Presently she moaned a little, not from bodily pain, but agony of
-mind, as I learnt shortly--then she said:
-
-"Mervan, why do you stay by my side--why not go at once back to your
-own land? Leave me?"
-
-"Juana!" I exclaimed, deeming that I had mistaken her state, and that,
-in truth, she was beside herself. Then added, stupidly and in a dazed
-manner: "Leave you!"
-
-"Ay. Why stay by me? You have heard, know all, whose child--to my
-eternal shame!--I am. The child of that bloodstained man, Gramont.
-Ay," she said, again, "he, that other, Morales, spoke true. There is
-no name in all the Indies remembered with such hate and loathing as
-his. And I--I--am his child. Go--leave me to die here."
-
-"Juana," I said, "can you hear me, understand what I am saying--going
-to say to you? Is your brain clear enough to comprehend my words?
-Speak--answer me."
-
-For reply she turned those eyes on me; beneath the dark dishevelled
-curls I saw their clear glance--I knew that all I should say would be
-plain to her.
-
-"Listen to my words," I continued therefore. "Listen--and believe;
-never doubt more. Juana, I love you with my whole heart and
-soul--before all and everything else this world holds for me. I love
-you. I love you. I love you," and as I spoke I bent forward and
-pressed my lips to her hot burning ones. "And you tell me to leave
-you, because, forsooth! you are his child. Oh! my sweet, my sweet, if
-you were the child of one five thousand times worse than he has been,
-ay! even though Satan claimed you for his own, I would love you till
-my last breath, would never quit your side. Juana, we are each other's
-forever now."
-
-"No! No! No!"
-
-"Yes, I say," I cried almost fiercely. "Yes. We are each other's
-alone. You are mine, mine, mine. I have no other thought, no other
-hope in all this world but you. If--if--our faith were the same I
-would send for a priest now who should make us one; there should be no
-further moment elapse in all the moments of eternity before you were
-my wife."
-
-I felt the long slim hand tighten on mine for an instant, then release
-it a moment later; but she said no more for a time. Yet the look on
-her face was one of happiness extreme. After a while, however, she
-spoke again.
-
-"The admiral knew," she whispered. "He had found out my secret."
-
-For a moment I could not recall what she referred to--the incidents
-which had happened in such quick succession since we had quitted the
-fleet had almost obliterated from my memory the recollection of all
-that had taken place prior to that time. Yet now I remembered,
-and--remembering--there came back to me Sir George Rooke's strange
-diffidence after she had seized his hand and pressed it to her heart.
-Also, I recalled the deference with which he had treated her whom I
-thought then to be no more than a handsome, elegant youth, as well as
-my feeling of surprise at that deference.
-
-And still, as I reflected over this, there was one other thing in
-connection with him which also came back to me; his words, to wit,
-that there were even worse things than shot or steel or death to cloud
-a brave man's career--that many a soldier had gone down before worse
-than these. And I knew now against what he had intended to warn
-me--against the woman now lying here sore stricken, the woman whom I
-loved and worshipped, the one who had been to me as faithful as a dog.
-
-"So be it," I said to myself, "so be it. If I am to become bankrupt
-and shipwrecked through my love for her, I must be. Henceforth she is
-all in all to me, and there is nothing else in my life. Yet, up to
-now, the admiral's warning has been but little realised--I owe no ruin
-to her, but, rather, salvation."
-
-For I could not but recall that 'twas through her that any loophole of
-escape had come to me in the prison of Lugo; to her unhappy father
-that I owed, if Morales had spoken true, the absolute escape itself.
-
-Even as I sat there meditating thus she moaned again: "My father. My
-lost, doomed father," and once more I heard her whisper: "His child!
-His child! The saints pity me!"
-
-And now I set myself to place that lost father before her in a far
-different light than that in which she regarded him--to make her
-believe that, when almost all in the Indies who had their account with
-the sea had in their time been much as he had been, his crimes were
-not so black as they appeared to her; to also paint in glowing colours
-that sublime sacrifice--Morales had termed it truthfully!--which he
-had made in remaining behind whilst I escaped, in dying while opening
-to me the path to life and freedom.
-
-"Juana, my sweet," I said, speaking low, yet as sympathetically as I
-could to her, "Juana, you deem his sin greater than it is. Also,
-remember, 'tis almost certain Morales lies when he said he died
-because--because--of your flight with him. For, remember--what the
-vagabond forgot in his rage and hate!--remember, he knew of your
-resolve, your determination to pretend to give yourself to him in
-exchange for his safety."
-
-As I said these words I saw her eyes glisten, saw her head turned more
-toward me on the pillow--in her face the expression of one to whose
-mind comes back the recollection of a forgotten fact, a truth.
-
-"_Diôs!_" she whispered, "it was so. He knew of my intention. 'Tis
-true; Morales lied. Yet," she went on a moment later, "yet that cannot
-cleanse him from his past sins, purge his soul from the crimes with
-which 'tis stained."
-
-"Crimes!" I re-echoed, "Crimes! Think, recall, my beloved, what those
-crimes were. Those of buccaneer, 'tis true, yet not so bad but that
-all like him were not deemed too sunken in sin to be refused pardon by
-Spain, by France, even by my own land. Those pardons were sent out to
-the Indies shortly before he was thought to be lost--had he returned
-to France, then he would have held a position of honour under Louis."
-
-"How?" she asked--and now I noticed that in her face there seemed to
-be a look of dawning hope, a look too, as though with that newborn
-hope there was a return of strength accompanied by an absence of such
-utter despair as had broken her down. "How know you that?"
-
-"I was there in the court when he was tried," I said, "I heard his
-words--and none who heard them could doubt their truth, no more than
-they could his fierce denouncement of that unutterable villain, Eaton.
-Juana," I said, endeavouring to speak as impressively as was in my
-power, to thrust home more decisively the growing conviction to her
-heart that Gramont was not the devil he had been painted, "you must
-teach yourself to think less ill of your father than report has made
-him. And--and remember, he could have escaped an he would; it was, as
-that man said, a sublime sacrifice when he went to his doom."
-
-"But why?" she asked, "why?" Though even as she did so, I saw, I knew,
-that in her heart there was the hope and wish to find something that
-might whiten his memory for her.
-
-"Why," I repeated, bending near to her, speaking as deeply and
-earnestly as I could; above all, the softened feeling I was
-endeavouring to bring about in her heart toward that lost, dead father
-must be made to grow, until at last she should regard his memory with
-pity if naught else. "Why, because as I do believe, as I believe
-before God, he knew we loved each other, Juana----"
-
-"Ah, Mervan!"
-
-"Because his life was already far spent, because ours were in their
-spring; because, it may be, he knew that with him gone and me escaped
-in his place there was the hope of many happy years before you--with
-me--of years always together, of our being ever by each other's side
-until the end. Juana, my beloved, my love, think not of him as one
-beyond pardon and redemption, but rather as one who purified forever
-the errors of his life by the deep tenderness and sacrifice of his
-end."
-
-I had won.
-
-As I concluded she raised herself from the pillows on which she lay,
-the long shapely arms met round my neck, the dark curly head sank to
-my shoulder; soon nothing broke the silence of the room but her sobs.
-Yet ever and again she whispered through her tears: "My father, my
-unhappy father. May God forgive me if I have judged you too harshly."
-
-Soon after that I left her sleeping peacefully and with, as it seemed
-to me, much of her fever gone--yet even as she slept I, sitting
-watching by her side, saw still the tears trickle forth from beneath
-the long eyelashes that fringed her cheeks, and knew that in her sleep
-she was dreaming of him.
-
-But again I told myself that I had won; that henceforth the memory of
-her father's erring life would not stand between her and me, between
-our love.
-
-The peasant who kept the miserable inn, and whose curiosity as to all
-that had taken place recently--the arrival of Juana and Morales, the
-duel, and then the rapid departure of him and the mute, while I
-remained behind in his place--was scarcely appeased by my curt and
-stern information that the lady above was shortly to become my wife,
-told me that there was no suitable sleeping place for me other than
-the public room. The other seńor, he said, had had to make shift with
-that, since the one spare room which the seńora occupied was the only
-one available in the house. He supposed, he added gruffly, that I,
-too, could do the same thing. There was a bench--and he pointed as he
-spoke to a rough wooden thing which did not promise much ease or
-rest--on which the other seńor had slept; also a deep chair, in which
-one might repose easily before the fire. Would that do? Yes, I
-answered, either would do very well. I was fatigued, and could sleep
-anywhere. All I asked was that I should be left alone.
-
-This was done, though ere the man and his wife departed to their
-quarters for the night the latter took occasion to make a remark to
-me. The lady, she observed, if she might make so bold as to say it,
-seemed to be of an undecided frame of mind. When she and the other
-seńor arrived she had understood that he was the person to whom she
-was about to be married. It was strange, she thought, that the lady
-should elope over the border with one seńor, to be married to another.
-However, she added, it was no affair of hers.
-
-"It is no affair of yours," I said sternly once more. "Leave me alone
-and interfere not in our affairs. Your bill," I continued, "will be
-paid; that is sufficient." Whereon she said that was all that was
-required, and so, at last, I was left to myself.
-
-Left to myself to sit in the great chair before the fire and muse on
-all that had lately occurred to make my journey toward Flanders a
-failure; to muse still more deeply on the love that had come to me
-unsought, unthought of; the love that, when I had at last accomplished
-my task and rejoined Marlborough, would, I hoped, crown my life.
-
-Yet, as the snow beat against the window, for once more it was a rough
-night and the wind howled here as it had howled the night before,
-across in Spain--while as before the flakes falling on the rude panes
-seemed to my mind to resemble ghostly finger-tips that touched the
-glass and then were drawn off it back into the darkness without--I
-thought also of the now dead and destroyed man, the buccaneer who, all
-blood-guilty as he was, had yet gone to a doom that he might have
-escaped from.
-
-And my thought prevented sleep, even though I had not now slept for
-many, many hours--my terrible reflections unstrung me--it seemed
-almost as if the spirit of that dead man had followed me, was outside
-the rough wooden door; as if, amidst those falling and swift-vanishing
-snowflakes on the glass, I saw his eyes glaring out of the blackness
-into the room. And soon I became over-wrought, the gentle beat of the
-snow became the tap of a hand summoning me to open and admit his
-spectral form--an awful fantasy took possession of me!
-
-Was, I asked myself--as furtively I turned my eyes to those solemn,
-silent flakes that fell upon the window pane, rested there a moment
-gleaming white, then vanished into nothingness--was the lost soul of
-that man hovering outside the door or that window--the soul that but a
-few hours ago had quitted his body?
-
-If I looked again at the casement should I see, as though behind some
-dark veil, the eyes of Gramont glaring into the room; see those flakes
-of snow take more tangible form--the form of a dead man's fingers
-scratching at the panes, tearing at them to attract my attention?
-
-Distraught--maddened by the terror of my thoughts, fearful of myself,
-of the silence that reigned through the house, I sprang to my feet--I
-was mad!--I must go out into the gloom and blackness of the night----
-
-God!--what was that?
-
-There _was_ a tapping at the door--a footstep--next a tap at the
-window. The hands were there; I saw the fingers--the snow falling
-round them--on them. I saw, too, the eyes of Gramont peering in at me.
-
-"What is it?" I cried hoarsely. "What? What?"
-
-Then through the roar of the tempest without, through the shriek of
-the wind, above the loud hum of the torrent, I heard--or was I mad and
-dreaming that I heard?--the words:
-
-"Open. To me--her father."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIX.
-
-"LET US KISS AND PART."
-
-
-As I unbarred the door that gave directly from the miserable
-living-room of the house to the outside he came in, the snow upon the
-shoulders of the cape he wore--some flakes even upon his face.
-
-"You are alive! Escaped!" I whispered, recognising that this was no
-phantom of my brain, but the man himself. "Safe! Thank God!"
-
-"Where is she?" he asked, pausing for no greeting, giving me none. "My
-child! Is _she_ safe? Or--have I come too late?"
-
-"She is here--safe. It is not too late."
-
-His eyes roamed round the room; then, not seeing her, he continued:
-
-"Where? I must see her--once."
-
-"_Once?_"
-
-"For the last time. After that we shall never meet again. The shadow
-of my life, my past, must fall on her no more. Yet--once--I must see
-her. Lead me to where she is."
-
-"She has been ill, delirious--is crushed by all that has
-happened--by----"
-
-"All that she has learnt," he interrupted, his voice deep and
-solemn--broken, too. "Yet I must see her."
-
-"She is asleep above."
-
-For answer to this he made simply a sign, yet one I understood very
-well--a sign that I should delay no longer.
-
-"Come," I said, "come." And together we went up the narrow stairs to
-the room she occupied--stole up them, as though in fear of waking her.
-
-Pushing the door open gently, we saw by the rays of the _veilleuse_,
-which I had ordered to be placed in the room, that she was sleeping;
-observed also that our entry did not disturb her; also it was easy to
-perceive that she was dreaming. Sometimes, as we standing there gazed
-down, the long, dark lashes that drooped upon her cheeks quivered;
-from beneath them there stole some tears; once, too, the rosy lips
-parted, and a sigh came from between them.
-
-"My child, my child!" Gramont whispered to himself, "child of her whom
-I loved better than my life--that we should meet at last, only to part
-forever!"
-
-And from his own eyes the tears rolled down--from his! He stooped and
-bent over her; his face approached hers; his lips touched that white
-brow, over which the short-cut hair curled in such glorious
-dishevelment, while he murmured:
-
-"Unclose those eyelids once, look for the last time on me." Then he
-half-turned his head away, as though to prevent his own tears from
-falling on and awakening her.
-
-Was he a sorcerer, I wondered, even as I watched--a sorcerer, as well
-as other things unnamable? Had he the power over his own child to thus
-reach her mind and brain, even though both were sunk in a deep,
-feverish sleep? In truth, it appeared so.
-
-For, even as he spoke, those eyelids did unclose, the dark, dreamy
-eyes gazed up into his, while, slowly, the full, white, rounded arms
-encircled his neck, and their lips met, and from him I heard the
-whispered words:
-
-"Farewell, farewell, forever. Oh, my child, my child!"
-
-Yet--and I thanked God for it then, as ever since I have thanked Him
-again and again!--he had turned away ere the answering whisper came
-from her lips, had not heard the words that fell from them--the words:
-
-"Mervan, Mervan, my beloved!"
-
-Thanked God he had not known how, in her sleep, she deemed those
-kisses mine, and dreamed of me alone.
-
- * * * * * * * * *
-
-"'Twas went on the storm increased, the snow no longer came in flakes
-against the window of the room below, in which we sat, but, instead,
-lay thick and heavy in masses on the sill without--was driven, too,
-against the window by the fierce, tempestuous wind that howled down
-from the mountains above, and rocked the miserable inn.
-
-"There is no going on to-night," Gramont said, coming in out of the
-storm after having gone forth to attend to the horse that had brought
-him from Lugo, and having bestowed it in the stables, where were the
-animals on which Juana and I had also ridden. "No going on to-night."
-Then, changing the subject abruptly, he said: "Where is that man?"
-
-Not pretending to doubt as to whom he made allusion, I said:
-
-"The Alcáide?"
-
-"Ay, the Alcáide."
-
-Whereon I told him of all that had happened since my arrival with the
-mute, and of his immediate departure further on into Portugal.
-
-"You should have slain him," he said, "the instant you had disarmed
-him. You loved Juana and she you--she told me so when she divulged his
-scheme to me in the prison--you should never have let him go free with
-life."
-
-"I _had_ disarmed him. I could not slay a weaponless, defenceless
-man."
-
-"One slays a snake--awake or sleeping. He merited death."
-
-"Yet to him, in a manner, we all owe our lives. Juana--I--you."
-
-"Owe our lives! Owe our lives to him! To one who trafficked with my
-girl's honour as against her father's freedom; a man who betrayed his
-trust to his own country as a means whereby to gratify his own evil
-desires! And for you--for me--what do we owe him? The chance of my
-escape came from another's hand than his."
-
-"From another's! You could have escaped even without that vile compact
-made between--God help us--Juana and him?"
-
-"Ay--listen. You stood by my side in the court when they tried us; you
-heard a voice in that court; saw the man who called out in loud tones
-to the man, Morales. You saw him, observed, maybe, that he bore about
-him the signs of a sailor."
-
-As he spoke there came to me a recollection of something more than
-this--a recollection of where I had seen that man again, of how it was
-he who crouched behind the fallen masses of blasted rock in the
-passage beneath the bed of the river through which I had passed to
-freedom; also, I remembered the great gold rings in his ears, and the
-glistening of one upon the guarding of his cloak as he shrank back
-into the darkness.
-
-"I remember him," I said, "very well--also, I saw him again, on the
-night that mute led me forth, helped me to escape."
-
-"'Tis so. That man saved me, was bent on saving me from the moment he
-saw my face in the court. He is a Biscayan--yet we had met in other
-lands; once I had saved his life--from Eaton. He--that doubly damned
-traitor--that monster of sin--had taken him prisoner in a pink he
-owned, yet had not captured her without a hard fight, in which this
-man, Nuńez Picado, nearly slew him. Then, this was Eaton's revenge: He
-bound him and set him afloat in a dismantled ketch he had by him, that
-to which Picado was bound being a barrel of gunpowder. And in that
-barrel was one end of a slow match, the other end alight and trailing
-the length of the ketch's deck."
-
-"My God!"
-
-"So slow a match that it would take hours ere it reached the powder,
-hours in which the doomed wretch would suffer ten thousand-fold the
-tortures of the damned. Yet one thing Eaton forgot--forgot that those
-hours of long drawn-out horror to his victim were also hours in which
-succour might come. And it was so. I passed that craft drifting slowly
-to and fro off Porto Rico. In the blaze of the noontide I saw a
-brighter, redder light than the sparkle of sun on counter and
-brass--when I stepped on board the ketch there was not a foot of the
-slow-match left--not an hour longer of life left to the man. Only, the
-bitterness of death was over for him then--he was a raving maniac, and
-so remained for months."
-
-"He has at last repaid you in full."
-
-"Ay! In full. He knew the secret way into the ramparts; all was
-concocted, all arranged for our escapes."
-
-"For yours and hers?"
-
-"For hers and mine. Had it not been that you had to be saved
-also--that the freedom which Juana had obtained from Morales for me
-must be transferred to you, since I needed it not, she would never
-have been allowed to go forth with him. I or Picado would have slain
-him in the prison and escaped with her."
-
-"I begin to understand."
-
-"'Twas best, however, to let her go forth unknowing--at least it
-removed him away from what had to be done--made it certain that he
-could not impede your escape. The rest was easy. I persuaded the mute
-that 'twas you, not I, whom it was intended to save, that 'twas for
-you her letter was meant, that it was I who was doomed."
-
-"And Eaton? Eaton?" I asked.
-
-"Eaton has paid the forfeit of his treachery," he said. "It has
-rebounded on his own head. The _braséro_ thirsted for its victim--the
-populace for its holiday. They have had it. Trust Nuńez Picado for
-that."
-
-He said no more, neither then nor later, and never yet have I learnt
-how that vilest of men was the substitute for those whom he had hoped
-and endeavoured to send to the flames. Yet, also, never have I doubted
-that it was done, since certain it is that from that time he has never
-again crossed my path.
-
-"The storm increases," Gramont said, as he strode to the window and
-peered out into the darksome night. "Yet--yet--I must go on at
-daybreak. I--I have that which needs take me on."
-
-"Stay here with us," I cried, "stay here. Juana will be my wife at the
-first moment chance offers. Stay."
-
-"Nay," he said. "Nay. She and I must never meet again. That is the
-expiation of my life which I have set myself--I will go through with
-it. In that last kiss above, I took my farewell of her forever in this
-world."
-
-"What will you do?" I asked through my now fast-falling tears, tears
-that none needed to be ashamed of; tears that none, listening to his
-heart-broken words as they dropped slowly from his lips, could have
-forborne to shed. "What is your life to be?"
-
-"God only knows," he replied; "yet one of penitence, of prayers for
-forgiveness so long as that life lasts. Thereby--thereby--I shall be
-fitter for the end. I am almost old now; it may not be far off."
-
-Silence came upon us after that--a silence broken only by the howl of
-the wind outside the lonely house, by the thud of snow falling now and
-again from the roof and eaves--blown off by the fury of the tempest.
-But broken by scarcely aught else, unless 'twas a sigh that
-occasionally, and all unwittingly, as I thought, escaped from that
-poor sinner's overcharged breast. Yet, for the rest, nothing; no sound
-from that room above, where Juana lay sleeping; nothing but sometimes
-the expiring logs falling together with a gentle clash in the grate.
-
-Then suddenly, as I almost dozed on one side of those logs, he being
-on the other, I heard him speaking to me, his voice deep, sonorous and
-low--perhaps he feared it might reach her above!--yet clear and
-distinct.
-
-"Evil," he said, "as my existence has been, misjudge me not. None
-started on life's path meaning better than I. God help me! none
-drifted into worse extremes. Will you hear my story--such as 'tis meet
-you should know--you who love my child?"
-
-I bowed my head; I whispered, "Yes." Once, because I pitied him, I
-gently touched his hand with mine.
-
-"I was a sailor," he went on, his dark eyes gleaming tenderly at that
-small offering of my sympathy, "bred up to the sea, the only child of
-a poor Protestant woman. Later--when Louis the king first fell under
-the thrall of the wanton, De Maintenon, my mother died of starvation,
-ruined by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, ruined ere that
-revocation by the shadow it cast before it on all of our faith. Think
-you that what was doing in the Indies by the Spaniards made me love
-the followers of the Romish church more?"
-
-He paused a moment--again he went on:
-
-"In the Indies to which I had wandered, I met with men who had sworn
-to extirpate, if might be, every Spaniard, every one of those who in
-their time swore that there was to be no peace beyond the line. That
-was their oath--we helped them to keep it, made it our watchword, too.
-All of us, Morgan, Pointis, Avery, Lolonois, your other countryman,
-Stede Bonnet, a hundred others, all of different lands, yet all of one
-complexion--hatred against Spain. And there was no peace beyond the
-line. You are a soldier, may be one for years, yet you will never know
-blood run as blood ran then. You may rack cities, even Louis' own
-capital, you will never know what sharing booty means as we knew it.
-Ere I was thirty I possessed a hundred thousand gold pistoles, ere
-another year had passed I owned nothing but the sword by my side, the
-deck I trod."
-
-"Yet," I said, "when you were lost--disappeared--you left your child a
-fortune--which Eaton stole."
-
-"I did more," he answered. "I left her that--but--I left her another
-which Eaton could not steal. She has it now; it is, it must be safe.
-Do you know your wife brings you a great dowry?"
-
-I started--I had never thought of this!--yet, ere I could say aught,
-he went on again.
-
-"I pass over much. I come to twenty years ago. Eaton was my
-lieutenant; we were about to besiege Maracaibo, a gallant company
-three hundred strong. Well, let me hurry--see, the daylight is coming.
-I must away--Maracaibo fell, our plunder was great. Also, we had many
-prisoners. Amongst them one, a girl, young and beautiful; God! she was
-an angel!"
-
-"Juana's mother that was to be," I whispered, feeling sure.
-
-"Hear me. She was my prize--there were others, but I heeded them not,
-had eyes only for her. Her ransom was fixed at five thousand pistoles,
-because she was the niece of the wealthiest man of all, to be paid ere
-we sailed three days later. And I prayed that they might never be
-forthcoming, that I might bear her away with me, teach her to love me
-as I loved her."
-
-"And they were not paid?" I asked breathlessly.
-
-"We did not sail in three days' time; the money of the place had been
-sent away inland on our approach; also one-half our body were all mad
-with drink ashore. 'Twas more nigh three weeks ere we were ready to
-depart."
-
-"And the lady?"
-
-"Her uncle had died meanwhile of a fever--yet--yet--the ransom was
-forthcoming. She was affianced to a planter; he came on board my ship,
-and with him he brought the gold."
-
-"Ah!"
-
-"My oath bound me to take it--had I refused, my brethren had the
-right--since we had laws regulating all things amongst us--to remove
-me from my command. I had to see him count the gold out on the cabin
-table, to tell her she was free to go."
-
-"And she went?" I asked again, almost breathless.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXX.
-
-GONE.
-
-
-"She went," he continued, "and I thought that she was gone from me
-forever, since, filibuster as I was, as I say, my oath to my
-companions bound me to set her free upon payment of the ransom. Yet,
-by heaven's grace, she was mine again ere long."
-
-He paused, looking out of the snow-laden window through which there
-stole now a greyness which told of the coming of the wintry day;
-pointed toward it as though bidding me remember that his time with me
-was growing short; then went on:
-
-"I was ashore for the last time before we sailed for Port Royal; those
-of us who were something better than brutish animals seeking for those
-who were wallowing in debauchery; finding them, too, either steeped in
-drink, or so overcome by their late depravity that they had to be
-carried on board the ships like logs. Then, as we passed down a street
-seeking our comrades, I saw her again--saw her lovely face at the
-grilled window of a house that looked as though it might be a convent;
-at a window no higher from the ground than my own head. And she saw me
-too, made a sign that I should stop, should send on my company out of
-earshot; which done, she said:
-
-"'Save me. For God's sake, save me!'"
-
-"'Save you, Seńorita,' I whispered, for I knew not who might be
-lurking near, might be, perhaps, within the dark room to which no ray
-of the blazing sun seemed able to penetrate; 'save you from what, from
-whom?'
-
-"'From him who ransomed me--_Diôs!_ that you had not taken the money.
-I hate him, was forced to be affianced to him, am a prisoner here in
-this convent until to-morrow, when I am to become his wife.'
-
-"'Yet, Seńorita,' I murmured--'how to do it? These walls seem strong,
-each window heavily grated, doubtless the house well guarded--and--and
-we sail at daybreak.'
-
-"'Yet an entrance may be made by the garden,' she whispered in reply;
-'the house is defended by negroes only--my room at the top of the
-stairs. Save me. Save me.'"
-
-Again Gramont paused--again he pointed at the day-spring
-outside--hurriedly he went on:
-
-"I saved her. Twenty of us--that vile Eaton was one!--passed through
-the garden at midnight--up those stairs--killing three blacks who
-opposed us"--even as he spoke I remembered Eaton's ravings in _La
-Mouche Noire_ as to the dead men glaring down into the passage; knew
-now of what his frenzied mind had been thinking on--"bore her away.
-Enough! three months later, we were married in Jamaica!"
-
-He rose as though to go forth and seek his horse, determined to
-make his way on in spite of the snow that lay upon the ground in
-masses--because, as I have ever since thought, he had sworn to undergo
-his self-imposed expiation of never gazing more upon his child's
-face!--then he paused, and spoke once more:
-
-"She died," and now his voice was broken, trembled, "in giving birth
-to her who is above; died when I had grown rich again--so rich that
-when I sailed for France, my pardon assured, my commission as
-Lieutenant du Roi to Louis in my pocket, I left her with Eaton, not
-even then believing how deep a villain he was; thinking, too, that I
-should soon return. Left with him, also, a fortune for her, What
-happened to her and that fortune you have learnt. Yet, something else
-you have to learn. Her mother's name had been Belmonte, and when Juana
-fled from Eaton, driven thence by his cruelty, she, knowing this,
-found means to communicate with an old comrade of mine, by then turned
-priest and settled at the other end of the island--at Montego. Now,
-see how things fall out; how, even to one belonging to me, God
-is good. 'Twas in '86 I sailed for France, my commission in my
-cabin--nailed in my pride to a bulkhead--when, alas! madman as I was,
-I encountered a great ship--a treasure ship, as I believed, sailing
-under Spanish colours. And--and--the devil was still strong in
-me--still strong the hatred of Spain--the greed and lust of plunder.
-God help me! God help and pardon me!" and as he spoke he beat his
-breast and paced the dreary room, now all lit up by the daylight from
-without. Even as I write I see and remember him, as I see and remember
-so many other things that happened in those times.
-
-"We boarded her," he continued, a moment later; "we took her treasure;
-she was full of it--yet even as we did so I knew that I was lost
-forever in this world, all chance of redemption gone--my hopes of
-better things passed away forever. For she was sailing under false
-colours; she was a French ship, one of Louis' own, and, seeing that we
-ourselves carried the Spanish flag, the better to escape the ships of
-war of Spain that were all about, had herself run them up. And we
-could not slay them and scuttle the ship--we had passed our word for
-their safety--moreover, an we would have done so 'twas doubtful if we
-should have succeeded. There were women on board, and, though the men
-fought but half-heartedly to guard the treasure that was their king's,
-they would have fought to the death for them. Therefore, we emptied
-the vessel of all that it had--we left them their lives--let them go
-free."
-
-"But why, why?" I asked, still not comprehending how this last attack
-upon another ship--and that but one of many stretching over long
-years!--should be so fateful to him, "why not still go on to France,
-commence a new life under better surroundings?"
-
-"Why?" he repeated, "why? Alas! you do not understand. I, a
-commissioned officer of the French king, had made war on his ships,
-taken his goods; also," and he drew a long breath now, "also
-there were those on board who knew and recognised me--we had met
-before--knew I was Gramont. That was enough. There was no return to
-France for me; or, if once there, nothing but the block or the wheel."
-
-"God pity you," I gasped, "to have thrown all chance away thus--thus!"
-
-He seemed not to heed my words of sympathy, wrung from me by my swift
-comprehension of all he had lost; instead, he stood there before me,
-almost like those who are turned to stone, making no movement, only
-speaking as one speaks who encounters a doom that has fallen on him,
-as one who tells how hope and he have parted forever on wide,
-diverging roads.
-
-"There were others besides myself," he continued, "who had ruined all
-by their act of madness, others of my own land who had gained their
-pardon, and lost it now forever, flung away all hopes of another life,
-of happier days to come, for the dross that we apportioned between
-ourselves, though in our frenzy we almost cast it into the sea. As for
-my share, though 'twas another fortune, I would not touch a pistole,
-but sent it instead to the priest I have spoken of--sent it by a sure
-hand--and bade him keep it for my child, add it to that which Eaton
-held for her; told him, too, to guard it well, since neither he nor
-she would ever see me more!"
-
-"And after--after?" I asked.
-
-"After, we disbanded--parted. I went my way, they theirs; earned my
-living hardly, yet honestly, in Hispaniola; should never have left the
-island had I not discovered that Eaton, who even then sometimes passed
-under the name of Carstairs--that was his _honest_ name--and who had
-long since disappeared from my knowledge, was having a large amount of
-goods and merchandise shipped under that name in the fleet of
-galleons, about to sail as soon as possible. And then--then--knowing
-how he had treated the child I left in his care--the child of my dead
-and lost love--I swore to sail in those galleons, to find him, to
-avenge----" He paused, exclaiming, "Hark! What is that?"
-
-Above--I heard it as soon as he--there was a footfall on the floor. We
-knew that Juana was moving, had arisen.
-
-"Go to her," he said, and I thought that his voice was changed--was
-still more broken--"Go; it may be she needs something. Go."
-
-"Is this our last farewell? Surely we shall meet again."
-
-"Go. And--and--tell her--her father--nay. Tell her nothing. Go."
-
-O'ermastered by his words, by, I think, too, the misery of the man who
-had been my companion through the dreary night, my heart wrung with
-sorrow for him who stood there so sad a figure, I went, obeying his
-behest.
-
-But ere I did so, and before I opened the door that gave on the stairs
-leading to her room, I took his hand, and whispered:
-
-"It _is_ our last farewell! Yet--oh, pause and think--she is your
-child. Have you no word--no last word of love nor plea for pardon--to
-send?"
-
-For a moment his his quivered, his breast heaved and he turned toward
-the other, and outer, door, so that I thought he meant to go without
-another sign. But, some impulse stirring in his heart, he moved back
-again to where I stood; murmuring, I heard him say:
-
-"In all the world she has none other but you. Remember that. Farewell
-forever. And--in days to come--teach her not to hate--my memory.
-Farewell."
-
-Then, his hand on the latch of the outer door, he pointed to the other
-and the stairs beyond.
-
-While I, stealing up them, knew that neither his child nor I would
-ever see him more, and, so knowing, prayed that God would at last
-bring ease and comfort to the erring man.
-
-As I neared the door of the room in which she had slept she opened it
-and came forth upon the bare landing--pale, as I saw in the light of
-the now fully broken day, but with much of the fever gone; also with,
-upon her face, that smile which ever made summer in my heart.
-
-"You are better," I said, folding her to me, "better? Have slept well?
-Is it not so?" Yet, even as I spoke, I led her back to the room whence
-she had come. She must not descend _yet!_ "You have not stirred all
-through the night, I know."
-
-"I dreamt," she said, "that you came to me, bade me farewell forever.
-Yet that passed, and again I dreamed that we should never part more.
-Therefore, I was happy, even in my sleep." Then broke off to say:
-"Hark! They are stirring in the house. Are the horses being prepared?
-I hear one shaking its bridle. Can any go forth to-day?" and she moved
-toward the window.
-
-"Nay, Juana," I said, leading her back again, although imperceptibly,
-to the middle of the room, "do not go to the window. The cold is
-intense--stay here by my side."
-
-Not guessing my reason--since it was impossible she should understand
-what was happening below!--I led her back. Led her back so that she
-should not see one come forth from the stable whom she deemed dead and
-destroyed--so that she should not be blasted by the sight of her
-father passing away in actual life from her forever; then sat down by
-her side and led the conversation to our future--to how we should get
-away from here to England and to safety. Also, I told her not to
-bewail, as she did again and again, my failure to proceed further on
-my journey to Flanders and the army; demonstrated, to her that, at
-least, there had been no failure in the mission I had undertaken;
-that my secret service had been carried out--and well carried out,
-too--and, consequently, my return mattered not very much with regard
-to a week or month. The allies, I said, could fight and win their
-battles very well without my aid, as I doubted not they were doing by
-now, while--for the rest--had I not done my share both here and in
-Spain? Proved, too--speaking a little self-vauntingly, perhaps, by
-reason of my intense desire to soothe and cheer her and testify that
-she had been no barrier in my path to glory--that I, also, though far
-away from my comrades, had stood in the shadow of death, had been face
-to face with the grim monster equally with those who braved the
-bayonets, the muskets and the cannon of Louis' armies.
-
-But all the time I spoke to her my apprehension was very great, my
-nerves strung to their bitterest endurance, my fear terrible that she
-would hear the man below going forth, that she might move to the
-window and see him--and that, thus seeing, be crushed by the sight.
-
-For I knew that he was moving now--that he was passing away forever
-from this gloomy spot which held the one thing in all the world that
-was his, and linked him to the wife he had loved so dearly; knew that,
-solitary and alone, he was about to set forth into a dreary world
-which held no home for him nor creature to love him in his old age. I,
-too, heard the bridle jangling again; upon the rough boards of the
-stable beneath the windows of the _fonda_ I heard the dead, dull thump
-of a horse's hoofs; I knew that the animal was moving--that he was
-setting out upon his journey of darkness and despair.
-
-"You are sad, Mervan," she said, her cheek against mine, while her
-voice murmured in my ear. "Your words are brave, yet all else belies
-them."
-
-"It is not for myself," I answered. "Not for myself."
-
-The starry eyes gazed into mine, the long, slim hand rested on my
-shoulder.
-
-"For whom?" she whispered. "For whom? For him? My father?"
-
-I bowed my head--from my lips no words seemed able to come--yet said
-at last:
-
-"For him. Your father." Then, for a moment, we sat there together,
-saying nothing. But soon she spake again.
-
-"My thoughts of him are those of pity only, now," she murmured
-once more. "Pity, deep as a woman's heart can feel. And--and--my
-love--remember, I never knew who my father was until that scene in the
-inn at Lugo--thought always his, our name was in truth Belmonte. The
-secret was well kept--by Eaton, for his own ends, doubtless; by my
-father's friend, the priest who had once been as he was, for his past
-friendship's sake. If I judged him harshly, a life of pity for his
-memory shall make atonement."
-
-As she said these words, while I kissed and tried to comfort her, she
-rose from where we were sitting and went to the window, I not
-endeavouring to prevent her now, feeling sure that he was gone; for
-all had become very still; there was no longer any sound in the
-stable, nor upon the snow, which, as I had seen as the day broke, had
-frozen and lay hard as iron on the ground beneath it.
-
-Yet something there was, I knew, that fascinated her as she gazed out
-upon the open; something which--as she turned round her face to me--I
-saw had startled, terrified her. For, pale as she had been since we
-had met again here, and with all the rich colouring that I loved so
-much gone from her cheeks, she was even whiter, paler than I had ever
-known her--in her eyes, too, a stare of astonishment, terror.
-
-"Mervan!" she panted, catching her breath, her hand upon her heart,
-"Mervan, look, oh, look!" and she pointed through the window.
-
-"See," she gasped, "see. The form of one whom I deemed dead--or is he
-in truth dead, and that his spectre vanishing into the dark wood
-beyond? See, the black horse, that which he bestrode that night--oh!
-Mervan--Mervan--Mervan--why has his spirit returned to earth? Will it
-haunt me forever--forever--punish me because of my shame of him?"
-
-And while I saw the horseman's figure disappear now--and forever--into
-the darkness of the pine forest, she lay trembling and weeping in my
-arms. To calm which, and also bring ease to her troubled heart, I told
-her all.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXI.
-
-ALWAYS TOGETHER NOW.
-
-
-The frost held beneath a piercing east wind which blew across the
-mountains that separated Portugal from Leon, so that now the snow was
-as hard as any road and there was no longer any reason to delay our
-setting forth. And more especially so was this the case because my
-beloved appeared to have entirely recovered from the fever into which
-she had been thrown by the events of the past weeks.
-
-"I am ready, Mervan," she said to me the next day, "ready to depart,
-to leave forever behind these lands--which I hope never to see
-again--to dwell always in your own country and near you."
-
-Wherefore I considered in my mind what was best now to be done.
-
-That we were safe here in Portugal we knew very well--only it was not
-in Portugal that we desired to remain, but rather to escape from; to
-cross the seas as soon as might be--to reach England or Holland. Yet
-how to do that we had now to consider.
-
-I had said we were safe here, and of this safety we had sure proof not
-many hours after her unhappy father had departed on his unknown
-journey; a journey that led I knew not where, no more than I knew what
-would be the end of it. And this proof was that, in the afternoon of
-the same day, the landlord of the inn came running in to us as fast as
-he could scamper across the already frozen snow; his face twitching
-with excitement, his voice shaking, too, from the same cause.
-
-"Holy Virgin!" he exclaimed, while he gesticulated like a madman, his
-wife doing the same thing by his side, "who and what have I sheltered
-here in my house. Pirates and filibusters, gaol breakers and
-murderers, women whose vows are made and broken day by day. 'Tis mercy
-we are not all stabbed to the death in our beds," and again he
-grimaced and shook and spluttered.
-
-"You are as like," I said sternly, with a tap to my sword hilt, "to be
-stabbed to the death now, and at once, if you explain not this
-intrusion and your words, fellow." For he had roused my ire by
-bursting in on Juana and me in the manner he had done, and by
-frightening her, as I knew by the way she clung to me. "Answer at
-once, what mean you?"
-
-"There are at the frontier," he said, speaking now more calmly, also
-more respectfully as he noted my attitude, while his wife ceased her
-clamour too, "some half dozen Spaniards from Lugo, all demanding where
-you are--and--and the wo--the lady; also asking for one they call
-their Alcáide, as well as another, who, they say, is a hundred-fold
-assassin. Likewise they vow they will have you back to Lugo."
-
-"Will they! Well, we will see for that! Meanwhile, what say the
-frontiermen on this side, here in Portugal?"
-
-"They dispute. They refuse. They say 'tis whispered o'er all our land
-that the king has joined with the English brigands----"
-
-"Fellow! remember." And again I threatened him.
-
-"With the English nation against Spain and France. It may be so or
-not; I do not know. Yet I think you will be spared to--to--slay----"
-
-Again he halted in his speech, reading danger in my glance, while I,
-turning to Juana, bade her keep calm and await my return from the
-border, to which I meant to proceed to see what was a-happening.
-
-At first she would not hear of my doing this; she threw herself upon
-my neck, she besought me by our newborn love, by all our hopes of
-happiness in days to come, not to go near those men, Reminded me, too,
-that even now we were free to escape, to seize upon the horses, push
-on further into Portugal and to safety. Also she pleaded with me to
-remember that if aught happened to me, if I was taken again and
-carried back to Spain, all hope would indeed be gone, no more escape
-possible. Wept, also, most piteously, and besought me to recollect
-that if aught such as this befell she would indeed be alone in the
-world, and must die.
-
-Yet I was firm; forced myself to be so. In my turn, bade her remember
-that I was a soldier, that soldiers could not skulk and run away when
-there was naught to fear.
-
-"For," I said, whispering also many other words of love and comfort in
-her ear, "it may be true that the king has joined with us. For months
-it has been looked for, expected. And if 'tis not even so, these
-people hate Spain and all in it with a deep hatred. They cannot harm
-us, certainly no half dozen can. 'Twould take more than that. Let me
-go, sweetheart."
-
-And gently I disengaged her arms from my neck and went away amidst her
-prayers and supplications for my safety; amidst also the mutterings of
-the landlord to the effect that the _Inglés_ seemed to fear neither
-devil nor man.
-
-'Twas not many moments to the border 'twixt the two countries, and I
-soon was there--seeing, however, as I hurried toward it, to the
-priming of my pistols, and that my sword was loose enough in its
-scabbard for easy drawing forth--and there I perceived that a harangue
-was going on between the Spanish and Portuguese frontiermen, while, on
-the side of the former, were also the half-dozen Spaniards, of whom
-the inn keeper had spoken. And amongst them I recognised two or three
-of those who had captured us in the inn garden at Lugo.
-
-"Ha!" one of them called out as I approached. "Ha! See, there is one,
-the second of the brigands, though not the worst. _Assassinator!_" he
-shrieked at me, "we must have you back at Lugo."
-
-"Best take me, then," I replied, as I drew close up, "yet 'twill cost
-you dear," and as I spoke I whipped my sword from out its scabbard.
-
-There was to be neither fight nor attempt to capture me, however; in
-truth, as you have now to see, my weapon had done its last work in
-either Spain or Portugal, since the men on this side meant not that
-the Spaniards should have their way.
-
-"Back, I tell you," shouted the Portuguese chief, "or advance at your
-peril. We are at war; 'tis known over all our land the _Inglés_ are
-our allies. You have come on a bootless errand."
-
-Now this, as I learnt later, was not the case in absolute fact, since
-Portugal joined not with us till the next spring had come, yet it
-served very well for my purpose; for these Spaniards did doubtless
-think that they would have got me--and, I suppose, Juana,
-too--bloodlessly, and have been able to hale us back to Lugo and its
-accursed _braséro_. But now they found out their mistake; they would
-have to fight to get me, and as, I think, they feared my sword as much
-as the four or five others of my new-found Portuguese friends, they
-very wisely desisted from any attempt. And so, after many angry words
-exchanged on both sides, in which I took no part, I went back to the
-inn, feeling sure that, unless I ever ventured into Spain again, I was
-free of its clutches.
-
- * * * * * * * * *
-
-Once more, a few hours later, my love and I were on the road as
-travelling companions, only now we were lovers instead of friends, and
-the companionship was, by God's mercy, to be for the length of our
-lives. And sweet it was to me, beyond all doubt, to have her by my
-side, to hear her soft voice in my ears, and to listen to the words of
-love that fell from her lips--sweet, too, to me to make reply to them.
-
-For one thing also I was devoutly grateful, namely, that I had not
-hesitated to tell her that her father still lived; that he had yet, by
-heaven's grace, many years before him in which to expiate his past;
-that he had escaped the awful end to which he had been doomed, and
-which, during some few hours, she imagined he had suffered--devoutly
-grateful that I had done this, because, now, the sorrow which she felt
-for the erring man was chastened by the knowledge that it was not too
-late for him to repent and obtain pardon, and that his death, whatever
-it might be, could scarce be one of such horror as that from which he
-had escaped.
-
-After some consideration I had decided that 'twould be best we should
-make our way to Oporto, where I thought 'twas very like we might find
-some ship for either England or Holland--perhaps, also, since the
-trade of that town with England is of such extreme importance, some
-vessel of war acting as convoy for the merchants. Moreover, the
-distance was not great in so small a land as this, and by the chart I
-carried seemed not to be more than thirty or forty leagues, though to
-compass them we should have to pass over mountains more than once. Yet
-the horses were fresh--I rode now my own on which Gramont had come and
-had then exchanged for the black one on which I had escaped, it having
-been prepared for me ere I took his place--the snow was hard as iron;
-it was not much to do. And, much or little, it had to be done.
-
-And so we progressed, passing through Mirandella and Murca, striking
-at last a broad high road that ran straight for Oporto--scaling
-mountains sometimes, plunging sometimes into deep valleys and crossing
-streams over shaking wooden bridges that by their appearance seemed
-scarce strong enough to bear a child, yet over which we got in safety.
-And, though neither she nor I spoke our thoughts, I think, I know,
-that the same idea was ever present to her mind as to mine, the idea
-that we might ere long come upon some sign of her father. For, now and
-again, as she peered down upon the white track we followed, losing
-more than once the road, yet finding it again ere long, she would rein
-in the jennet and look at the tracks frozen in the snow, then shake
-her head mournfully as we went on once more.
-
-But of Gramont we saw no sign--nor ever saw him again in this world.
-
-
-
-Going on and on, however, we drew near as I judged, to the coast,
-still climbing the mountains and still passing at other times through
-the valleys, over all of which there lay the vast white pall burying
-everything beneath it.
-
-We heard also the great river that is called the Douro, rolling and
-humming and swirling beneath the roof of frozen snow which, in some
-places, stretched across it from bank to bank. In some places, too,
-where the road we traversed approached nearer to the stream, we saw it
-cleaving its way through banks so narrowed by their coating of ice
-that it o'erleapt and foamed above the sides, while with a great
-swish, such as a huge tide makes upon a shingly beach, its waters
-spread out with a hissing splash from their eddies and swept over the
-borders on either side. Yet, because the way this river rushed was
-likewise our way to peace and happiness--the road toward the great sea
-we hoped so soon to traverse--we regarded it with interest.
-
-"See," I said to Juana, as now we rode close to it, so that at this
-time our horses' feet were laved by its overflow, "see how it bears
-down with it great trees from far inland, from where we have come;
-also other things, the wooden roof of some peasant's hut, some
-household goods too. I fear it has swept over the country, has burst
-in places from its narrow frost-bound sides."
-
-'Twas true--such must have happened--for even as I spoke, there went
-by the body of a horse--the creature's sides all torn and lacerated,
-doubtless by some narrow passage in which the spears of ice would be
-as sharp as swords' points; then, next--oh! piteous sight!--a little
-dead babe rolled over and over as the waves bore it along in their
-swift flight.
-
-"Look, look," she murmured, pointing forward to where the river
-broadened, but out into the breadth of which there projected a spur,
-or tongue of land; "look! that catches much of what comes down--see!
-the dead horse's progress is stopped upon it--and Mervan, the little
-babe is also rolled on to that slip of land while there are many other
-things besides; more bodies of both men and animals."
-
-There were, in solemn truth. As we rode nearer to that jutting
-promontory, we saw that much of what the Douro had brought down was
-stopped by it; upon the frozen tongue of land protruding were mixed in
-confusion many things. The dead horse and another which had preceded
-it; some poor sheep, a dog, the little babe which had just passed
-before our eyes, and two or three dead men; some on their backs, their
-arms extended on that frozen refuge--one on his face.
-
-Mostly they were peasants; their garb told that, also their rough,
-coarse hands, which showed black against the leper whiteness of the
-ice and snow beneath them. But he who lay upon his face was none such,
-his scarlet coat, guarded with galloon, had never graced a peasant's
-back, no more than any peasant had worn that sword (with now both
-blade and scabbard broken) that was by his side.
-
-And halting upon the little ridge which made the summit of that
-promontory and gazing upon that man, I knew as well as if I could see
-his down-turned face, whose body it was stretched out there upon its
-icy bier.
-
-Also I saw that she knew, too. Neither scarlet coat nor battered
-weapon was strange to her.
-
-"I will descend," I said, speaking in a low voice, such as those
-assume who stand in presence of the dead. "I will descend and make
-sure," whereupon she bowed her head in reply, making no demur. At that
-moment she, perhaps, thought it best to make sure that he who had
-sought her soul's degradation would never traffic with another woman's
-honour.
-
-But as I went down on foot now to that tongue of land on which the
-drowned reposed, I had another reason besides this of making sure that
-the body was that of her tempter, the Alcáide. I desired to discover
-if 'twas by the river alone that he had come to his death (borne down
-and into it by some streamlet nearer the Spanish border), and not by
-the avenging weapon of him who said that I should never have spared
-him, have never let him quit my side with life. For they might have
-met, I knew; the one who went first might have been belated on his
-road--snowbound; the second might have overtaken him, his vengeance
-have been swift and sure.
-
-Stepping across the bodies of the drowned animals, avoiding those of
-the peasants, and putting gently aside that of the little babe, I
-reached him, recognising as I did so the coal black hair flecked and
-streaked with grey, the rings upon the hands stretched out, backs
-upward. Then I turned him over, seeing that the face was torn and cut
-by the jagged ice through which he had been hurried, also bruised and
-discoloured. But in all the body no sign of rapier wound, nor pistol
-shot, nor of avenging finger marks upon the throat.
-
-So I went back to her and took my reins from her hands and once more
-we set out upon our way.
-
-But the dark, lustrous eyes as they gazed into mine asked silent and
-unworded questions--so that I guessed my thoughts had been in her
-mind, too!--and when I answered with as equal a silence I knew that I
-had brought comfort to her heart.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXII.
-
-THE END.
-
-
-The early part of September, 1704, had been stormy and wet and very
-dismal, so that all in London feared that the great spectacle, which
-had been arranged with much pains and forethought for the seventh of
-that month, must be impaired if not totally ruined by the inclemency
-of the weather. And many there were who, during the night that passed
-away and when the dawn came, rose from their beds to peer out and see
-what the day promised.
-
-Yet by great good fortune none were doomed to disappointment. For from
-away over the river, down by where the great ships were all a-lying
-dressed with flags, the sun came up in great magnificence and
-splendour; the clouds turned from purple to a fair pure daffodil; a
-sweeter autumn morning none had ever seen nor could hope to see.
-
-And now from very early in the morning the crowd came in from far and
-wide, from north and south and east and west, from the villages along
-the river as far away as sylvan Richmond on one side, or Hampstead on
-another; while the gentry drove in from their country seats at Clapham
-or Kensington and on the road that leads to Fulham. Also those
-regiments at Hounslow, and the foot guards at Kensington, as well as
-the city militia from the east side, were all making their way into
-the town, with drums a-beating and flags streaming out to the fresh
-morning air and trumpets braying, while in the city itself my Lord
-Mayor was getting ready to proceed to Temple Bar, there to receive the
-queen and court.
-
-For this day, the seventh of September, had been fixed for the
-thanksgiving for the victory of Blenheim which the Duke of Marlborough
-had recently won. The pity only being that, of those who were to take
-part in the great ceremony, my Lord Duke could not be there, he being
-still engaged on the Continent.
-
-Nevertheless, from St. James' there set out so great a company for St.
-Paul's that 'tis never likely any one then alive could expect to
-witness a more noble and imposing sight. For there were all the great
-officers of state, with, amidst them, the queen in a sumptuous coach
-drawn by eight horses, Her Majesty being ablaze with jewels. Alone she
-went in that coach excepting one companion, a lady dressed as quietly
-and simply as could be any lady in the land, there being neither at
-neck or bosom or throat, or in her hair, any single trinket to be
-seen.
-
-Yet, I think, she was that day the proudest woman in all England, not
-even excepting great Anna, since she was the wife of the conqueror who
-had trampled Louis and his armies under foot; was Sarah, Duchess of
-Marlborough. Could any female heart have desired to be more!
-
-In front of, as well as behind, and on either side of that chariot of
-state, there rode the Queen's Guards; yet ahead of those who rode
-behind--he being nearest to the back of the carriage--was one who
-yielded to none in thankfulness and gratitude for all which Providence
-had seen fit to do for him. An officer this, one handed, his left
-arm bound up--it having been nearly lopped off at Blenheim by one of
-the Elector of Bavaria's huge dragoons, whom that officer slew a
-moment later with his right hand--whose scarf, sword knot,
-richly laced scarlet coat and gold cockade proclaimed him a colonel
-of horse--myself.
-
-From where we entered the Strand--by the cross set up here--we saw
-that all the shops were boarded up and scaffolded, partly to resist
-the crowd and partly to furnish benches on which sight-seers might
-sit. On those benches, also in the shop windows, on the bulks and at
-the windows of the tradesmen's parlours above, was a noble and
-splendid company, the ladies of which had all adorned themselves with
-their choicest dresses and ribbons and laces, the more to do honour to
-those other two ladies in the great coach. Then, behind, came the
-lords of Parliament and the gentlemen of the Commons, also the
-Bishops in their wigs and lawn--each and all in coaches drawn by
-six horses--as well as many others of the nobility; while from the
-churches along the route, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, St. Mary's in
-the Strand and St. Clement's Danes, the bells clashed and clanged,
-and, inside, the organs blew and anthems pealed.
-
-At Temple Bar there was a great halt, since the gates were shut, yet
-opened as the queen came to them, whereon my Lord Mayor, surrounded by
-the aldermen and sheriffs, in their red robes and on horses richly
-caparisoned, received Her Majesty, the former handing to her the sword
-of the city, which she at once returned; after which we progressed
-once more toward St. Paul's, where, later, the dean preached a moving
-sermon.
-
-And now my eyes were fixed and searching for a face--two faces--at a
-window beyond the Church of St. Dunstan's in Fleet street--which was
-all hung with banners and adornments stretched across from side to
-side--and presently I saw that which I sought for--a lady on a balcony
-holding up a little wee child in her arms, a lady dark and beautiful
-and dressed all in her best, her robe a rich brocade, with, at her
-breast, a knot of ribbons, the colours of the Fourth Horse--the woman
-who has ever been in my eyes the fairest, most lovely of her sex, my
-loved and honoured wife. And she stood there seeking for me, leaning
-over the balcony to wave and kiss her hand, took, also, our babe's
-little one in her arms and caused it to wave, too.
-
-Riding by, I looked up and saw them, and blessed God--blessed God and
-praised His name, because He had seen fit to bring us safe through all
-the dangers we had encountered together, because He had seen fit to
-give to me for wife the sweetest woman the world held, and to bring us
-safe into haven at last.
-
-For that, as well as all else, I blessed and praised His name, even as
-from roofs of houses and taverns the salvos roared forth, the bells
-pealed from the steeples, and we progressed through the city;
-companies ranged 'neath their banners, and, between the lines kept by
-the militia, the queen bowing from her side of the coach, the great,
-stately duchess from hers, the people shouting all the time, and
-crying but two names, "Anne" and "Marlborough," and women holding up
-their children, so that, in the days to come, when those children were
-old, they might say they had gazed on the wife of the greatest soldier
-in the world. And thus, at last, we came to St. Paul's and gave
-thanksgiving.
-
-It was when night had fallen after Blenheim that my Lord Duke sent for
-me to his room in the inn, where he and the Marshal Tallard--who had
-led the French, and been defeated that day, and was now an honoured
-and well-cared-for prisoner of his Grace--were quartered, and spoke to
-me as follows:
-
-"Colonel Crespin--for such you will be when the next gazette is
-published--if it were not that others have a prior claim, it should be
-you to whom I would confide my message to the queen and lords. For,"
-and he smiled sweetly, as usual, though, to-night, a little wearily,
-"I have a recollection of your value as a bearer of despatches; yet,
-all the same, you shall go to England. You have a wife and child
-there, I know."
-
-And again he smiled as I bowed before him.
-
-"For which you have to thank me. By St. George, I never thought when I
-sent you on that journey you were going sweetheart hunting, too."
-
-Whereby you will perceive that his Grace knew very well all that had
-befallen me two years before, when I set out for Spain to find, if
-might be, the English fleet. It would be strange, indeed, if he had
-not known it, for my story had been told all over the forces from the
-moment I returned and joined my regiment; nay, more than once, I had
-told it to Marlborough himself.
-
-"I shall not be far behind you," he continued, "the New Year should
-see me home, too. Yet I have messages for the queen and my own wife.
-You shall bear them. It will give you an opportunity of seeing your
-own wife. She is, I hear, vastly beautiful."
-
-"In my eyes, my lord Duke, the most beautiful woman in the world."
-
-"That is as it should be. So," he continued simply, "I think of mine.
-But, also, you must see the queen. She has heard of your adventures,
-wishes she had seen you when you were on leave in England. Tell her
-all--tell her as bravely in words as you can be brave in action--and
-you will not stop at the command of a regiment of horse. See also
-my wife; her influence is extreme--our enemies say 'tis a bad
-influence--yet she will help you."
-
-And I did see the queen on my arrival in England, also the great
-duchess, Sarah, on the night before we went to St. Paul's; after which
-I wondered no more how every one loved the former, spoke of her,
-indeed, as the "Good" Queen--a title, I think, as dear and precious as
-that of "Great," which Elizabeth had worn. She was very ruddy, I
-noticed when I stood before her, her beautiful red-brown hair bound
-most matronly above her brow, while her arms--which were bare, to
-show, as I have heard, their extreme beauty--were most marvellous to
-behold, as well as her hands. Yet, queen as she was, and a well
-favoured one, too, it was more on the other lady who stood behind her
-that my eyes rested; for she was beautiful beyond all I had imagined,
-so that I wondered not that report said the duke loved her as fondly
-as when they were boy and girl together, she only a maid of honour,
-and he an ensign. Yet, also, I thought that beauty marred by an
-imperious haughtiness which made her seem the queen and the real queen
-seem her subject.
-
-"So, Colonel Crespin," Her Majesty said to me, "I set eyes on you at
-last--you of whom I have heard so much. Well, I am vastly proud to
-know so brave a gentleman. Later, I must also know your wife--whom I
-hear you wooed and won in a strange fashion." Then changing the
-subject swiftly, while her kindly eyes rested on me, she said: "Your
-father must be very proud of you."
-
-Not knowing what reply to make to such a compliment, I could but bow
-again, whereon she continued:
-
-"Your arm is bound up, I see--I hear you got the wound at Blenheim.
-'Tis very well. In after years it will be as great a distinction to
-have had that wound as any honours or titles that may come to you. It
-does not prevent your riding?"
-
-I murmured that it inconvenienced me but very little, whereon Her
-Majesty said:
-
-"That is also well. To-morrow I desire you follow my coach to St.
-Paul's. I love my people to see those who have served me bravely,"
-whereon, with a gracious inclination of her head, accompanied by a
-sweet smile upon her honest, kindly face, she turned and left the
-apartment, the duchess bowing too, though somewhat more haughtily than
-the queen had done. Yet she whispered a word in my ear as she passed
-out; a word appropriate enough to one as proud as she.
-
-"You have served _him_ well," she said. "Those who do that are my
-friends forever."
-
-And now the rejoicings for our victory at Blenheim were over--the
-siege and taking of Gibraltar three weeks before, by my other friend,
-Sir George Rooke, being not forgotten--the crowds had dispersed, the
-great banquet to be given by the city was near at hand and the
-illuminations of London were beginning.
-
-Yet I had no desire to be feasting in the midst of that great
-company--instead, I was seated in the room from the balcony of which I
-had seen my wife that morning; her head upon my shoulder, her lips
-murmuring words of love inexpressible in my ear; words in which,
-amongst the rest, I caught those that told me how proud she was to
-have won me from all other women, how proud and happy in knowing that
-we were each other's forever in this world.
-
- * * * * * * * * *
-
-What need to set down more--what more have I to say?
-
-Only this. That never would she hear of redeeming any of that second
-fortune which her unhappy father had left in the custody of the priest
-in the Indies who had once been as he himself was; and consequently,
-that from the time we became man and wife no further intercourse was
-ever held between us and those far-off islands from which she came.
-Nor was that fortune wanted--God has ever been good to us; I have
-prospered exceedingly in my soldier's calling; all is very well.
-
-Of him, Gramont, we have never heard more. Yet that, somewhere, he is,
-if still alive, expiating his past I have never doubted. The truth was
-in the man's eyes as he spoke to me on that morning when he went forth
-broken-hearted from the house which held his child; the truth, and a
-firm determination to atone by suffering and hardship for all that he
-had done. And what stronger or more stern resolve could any sinner
-have taken than that of his? The determination to tear himself away
-forever from the companionship of his newly found daughter, and to
-remove thereby from her forever the shame of his presence.
-
-"Come, Mervan," she said to me, as now the autumn evening turned to
-night, and from every house in Fleet street the illuminations began to
-glisten. "Come, you must prepare for the city banquet."
-
-"Nay," I said, "nay. I need no banquets, would prefer to stay here by
-your side."
-
-"And so I would you should do. Yet you must go. I will not have you
-absent from so great a thing. You! my hero--my king. And while you are
-gone I will watch over our child, or solace myself with this."
-
-And as she spoke she went over to where the spinet was, and touched a
-smaller instrument that lay upon it--the little viol d'amore from
-which we have never parted, and never will.
-
-
-
-THE END.
-
-
-
-PRINTED BY STROMBERG, ALLEN & CO.
-FOR
-HERBERT S. STONE & COMPANY
-PUBLISHERS
-CHICAGO
-1897
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's Across the Salt Seas, by John Bloundelle-Burton
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-Title: Across the Salt Seas
- A Romance of the War of Succession
-
-Author: John Bloundelle-Burton
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-</pre>
-
-
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br>
-1. Page scan source: Google Books<br>
-https://books.google.com/books?id=OsUsAAAAYAAJ<br>
-(Princeton University)</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<p class="center">Across the Salt Seas.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>ACROSS</h4>
-<h3>THE SALT SEAS</h3>
-<br>
-
-<h5>A ROMANCE OF THE<br>
-WAR OF SUCCESSION</h5>
-<br>
-<br>
-
-<h5>BY</h5>
-<h4>JOHN BLOUNDELLE-BURTON</h4>
-
-<h5>AUTHOR OF &quot;IN THE WAY OF ADVERSITY,&quot;<br>
-&quot;THE HISPANIOLA PLATE,&quot; &quot;A GENTLEMAN ADVENTURER,&quot; ETC.</h5>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>HERBERT S. STONE &amp; CO.<br>
-CHICAGO &amp; NEW YORK</h4>
-<h5>MDCCCXCVII</h5>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h5>COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY<br>
-HERBERT S. STONE &amp; CO.</h5>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h3>Across the Salt Seas.</h3>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4>
-
-<p class="normal" style="font-size:10pt"><b>Dreams he of cutting foreign throats, of breaches, ambuscadoes,
-Spanish blades; of healths five fathoms deep.--<i>Shakespeare</i>.</b></p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Phew!&quot; said the captain of <i>La Mouche Noire</i>, as he came up to me
-where I paced the deck by the after binacle. &quot;Phew! It is a devil in
-its death agonies. What has the man seen and known? Fore Gad! he makes
-me shudder!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he spat to leeward--because he was a sailor; also, because he was
-a sailor, he squinted into the compass box, then took off his leather
-cap and wiped the warm drops from his forehead with the back of his
-hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Death agonies!&quot; I said. &quot;So! it is coming to that. From what?
-Drinking, old age, or----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Both, and more. Yet, when I shipped him at Rotterdam, who
-would have thought it! Old and reverend-looking, eh, Mr. Crespin?
-White haired--silvery. I deemed him some kind of a minister--yet, now,
-hearken to him!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And as he spoke he went to the hatchway, bent his head and shoulders
-over it, and beckoned me to come and do likewise; which gesture I
-obeyed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I heard the old man's voice coming forth from the cabin where
-they had got him, the door of it being open for sake of air, because,
-in this tossing sea, the ports and scuttles were shut fast--heard him
-screaming, muttering, chuckling and laughing; calling of healths and
-toasts; dying hard!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The balustrades!&quot; he screamed. &quot;Look to them. See! Three men, their
-hands stretched out, peering down into the hall; fingers touching.
-God!&quot;--he whispered this, yet still we heard--&quot;how can dead men stand
-thus together, gazing over, glancing into dark corners, eyes rolling?
-See how yellow the mustee's eyes are! But still, all dead! Dead! Dead!
-Dead! Yet there they stand, waiting for us to come in from the garden.
-Ha! quick--the passado--one--two--in--out--good! through his midriff.
-Ha! Ha! Ha!&quot; and he laughed hideously, then went on: &quot;The worms will
-have a full meal. Or&quot;--after a pause, and hissing this: &quot;Was he dead
-before? Hast run a dead man through?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Like this all day long,&quot; the captain muttered in my ear, &quot;from the
-dawn. And now the sun is setting; see how its gleams light up the
-hills inland. God's mercy! I hope he dies ere long. I want not his
-howlings through my ship all night. Mr. Crespin,&quot; and he laid his hand
-on my arm, &quot;will you go down to him, to service me? You are a
-gentleman. Maybe can soothe him. He is one, too. Will you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I shrugged my shoulders and hitched my sea cloak tighter round me;
-then I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To do you a service--yes. Yet I like not the job. Still, I will go,&quot;
-and I put my hand on the brass rail to descend. Then, as I did so, we
-heard him again--a-singing of a song this time. But what a song! And
-to come from the dying lips of that old, white-haired, reverend-looking
-man! A song about drinkings and carousings, of girls' eyes and lips and
-other charms, which he should have thought no more of for the past two
-score years! and killing of men, and thievings and plunder. Then another
-change, orders bellowed loudly, as though he trod on deck--commands
-given to run out guns--cutlasses to be ready. Shrieks, whooping and
-huzzas!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He has followed the sea some time in his life,&quot; the captain whispered
-as I descended the companion steps. &quot;One can tell that. And I thought
-him a minister!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I nodded, looking up at him as I went below, then reached the open
-door of the cabin where the man lay.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He was stretched out upon his berth, the bedding all dishevelled and
-tossed beneath him, with, over it, his long white hair, like spun
-flax, streaming. His coat alone of all his garments was off, so that
-one saw the massive gold buttons to his satin waistcoat; could
-observe, too, the richness of his cravat, the fineness of his shirt.
-His breeches, also, were of satin, black like his waistcoat--the
-stuff of the very best; his buckles to them gold; his shoes fastened
-with silver latchets. That he was old other things than his hair
-showed--the white face was drawn and pinched with age, the body lean
-and attenuated, the fingers almost fleshless, the backs of his hands
-naught but sinews and shrivelled skin. And they were strange hands,
-too, for one to gaze upon; white as the driven snow, yet with
-a thickness at the tips of the fingers, and with ill-shapen,
-coarse-looking nails, all seeming to say that, once, in some far off
-time, those hands had done hard, rough work.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">By the side of the berth, upon one of the drawers beneath it, pulled
-out to make a seat, there squatted a mulatto--his servant whom he had
-brought on board with him when we took him into the ship in the Maas.
-A mulatto, whose brown, muddy looking eyeballs rolled about in terror,
-as I thought, of his master's coming death, and made me wonder if they
-had given his distempered brain that idea of the &quot;mustee's yellow
-eyes,&quot; about which he had been lately shrieking. Yet, somehow, I
-guessed that 'twas not so.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How is 't with him now?&quot; I asked the blackamoor, seeing that his
-master lay quiet for the time being; &quot;is this like to be the end?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Maybe, maybe not,&quot; the creature said in reply. &quot;I have seen him as
-far gone before--yet he is alive.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How old is he?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know not. He says he has seventy years.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should say more,&quot; I answered. Then I asked: &quot;Who is he?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The captain has his name.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That tells nothing. When he is dead he will be committed to the sea
-unless we reach Cadiz first. And he has goods,&quot; casting my eye on two
-chests, one above the other, standing by the cabin bulkhead. &quot;They
-will have to be consigned somewhere. Where is he going?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ha! Well, so am I. He is English?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes--he is English.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas evident to me that this black creature meant to tell nothing of
-his master's affairs--for which there was no need to blame him--and I
-desisted from my enquiries. For, in truth, this old man's affairs were
-not my concern. If he died he would be tossed into the sea, and that
-would be the end of him. And if he did not die--why still 'twas no
-affair of mine. I was but a passenger, as he was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Therefore, I turned me on my heel to quit the cabin, when, to my
-astonishment, nay, almost my awestruck wonderment, I heard the old man
-speaking behind me as calmly as though there were no delirium in his
-brain nor any fever whatever. Perhaps, after all, I thought, 'twas but
-the French brandy and the Geneva he had been drinking freely of since
-we took him on board, and which he brought with him in case bottles,
-that had given him his delirium, and that the effect was gone now with
-his last shriekings and ravings.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But that which caused most my wonderment was that he was speaking in
-the French--which I had very well myself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What brings you here, Grandmont?&quot; he asked, his eyes, of a cold grey,
-fixed on me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So,&quot; thinks I, &quot;you are not out of your fever yet, to call me by a
-name I never heard of.&quot; But aloud, I answered:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have taken passage the same as you yourself. And we travel the same
-road--toward Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Meanwhile the negro was a-hushing of him--or trying to--saying:
-&quot;Master, master, you wander. Grandmont is not here. This gentleman is
-not he&quot;; and angered me, too, even as he said it, by a scornful kind
-of laugh he gave, as though to signify: &quot;Not anything like him,
-indeed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But the old man took no heed of him--pushing him aside with a strength
-in the white coarse hand which you would not have looked to see in one
-so spent--and leaned a little over the side of the berth, and went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have you heard of it, yet, Grandmont?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not knowing what to do, nor what answer to make, I shook my
-head--whereon he continued: &quot;Nineteen years of age now, if a day. Four
-years old then--two hundred crowns' worth of good wood burnt,--all
-burnt--a mort o' money! But we have enough left and to serve, 'tis
-true. A plenty o' money--though 'tis soaked in blood. Nineteen years
-old, and like to be a devil--like yourself, Grandmont!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Grandmont is dead,&quot; the negro muttered. &quot;Drownded dead, master. You
-know.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This set the old man off on another tack, doubtless the words
-&quot;drownded dead&quot; recalling something to him; and once more he began
-his chantings--going back to the English--which were awful to hear,
-and brought to my mind the idea of a corpse a-singing:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fishes' teeth have eat his eyes;
-His limbs by fishes torn.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then broke off and said: &quot;Where am I? Give me to drink.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This the negro did, taking from out the drawer he sat upon a bottle of
-Hungary water, and pouring a draught into a glass, which, when the old
-man had tasted, set him off shrieking curses.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Brandy!&quot; he cried, &quot;Brandy! French brandy, not this filth. Brandy,
-dog!&quot; and as he spoke he raised his hand and clutched at the other's
-wool, &quot;If I had you in Martinique----&quot; then, exhausted, fell back on
-his pillows and said no more, forgetting all about the desired drink.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, that night, when I sat with the captain after supper, he being a
-man who had roamed the world far and wide, and had not always been, as
-he was now, a carrier of goods only, with sometimes a passenger or
-two, from London to the ports of France, Spain and Portugal, we talked
-upon that hoary-headed old sinner lying below in the after-starboard
-cabin; I telling him all that had passed in my hearing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And he, smoking his great pipe, listened attentively, nodding his head
-every now and again, and muttering much to himself; then said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Spoke about two hundred crowns' worth of good wood being burnt, eh?
-That would be at Campeachy. Humph! So! So! We have heard about that.
-Told the black, too, that he wished he had him in Martinique, did he?
-Also knew Grandmont. Ha! 'tis very plain.&quot; Then he rose and went to
-his desk, lifted up the sloping lid and took out a book and read from
-it--I observing very well that it was his log.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See,&quot; he said, pushing it over to me, &quot;that's what he calls himself
-now. Yet 'tis no more his name than 'tis mine--or yours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Glancing my eye down the column, I came to my own name--after a list
-of things by way of cargo which he had on board, such as a hundred and
-seventy barrels of potash, sixty bales of hemp, a hundred bales of
-Russia leather, twenty barrels of salted meat, twenty-eight barrels of
-whale oil and many other things. Came to my own name, Mervyn Crespin,
-officer, passenger to Cadiz. Then to the old man's:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;John Carstairs, gentleman, with servant, passenger to Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No more his name than 'tis mine--or yours,&quot; the captain repeated.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What then?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It might be--anything,&quot; and again he mused. &quot;Martinique,&quot; he went on,
-&quot;Campeachy. A friend of Grandmont's. Let me reflect. It might be John
-Cuddiford. He was a friend of Grandmont's. It might be Alderly. But
-no, he was killed, I think, by Captain Nicholas Crafez of Brentford.
-Dampier, now--nay, this one is too old; also William Dampier sailed
-from the Downs three years ago. I do believe 'tis Cuddiford.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And who then is Grandmont, Captain? And this Cuddiford--or
-Carstairs?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ho!&quot; said he, &quot;'tis all a history, and had you been sailor, or worn
-that sword by your side for King William as you wear it now for Queen
-Anne, you would have known Grandmont's name. Of a surety you would
-have done so, had you been sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who are they, then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well now, see. Grandmont was--for he is dead, drowned coming back
-from the Indies in '96--that's six years agone--with a hundred and
-eighty men, all devils like himself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he said this I started, for his words were much the same as those
-which the old man had used an hour or so before when he had spoken of
-something--a child, as I guessed--that had been four years old, and
-was now nineteen and &quot;like to be a devil&quot; like himself--Grandmont. It
-seemed certain, therefore, that this man, Grandmont, was a friend in
-life, and that now there was roaming about somewhere a son who had all
-the instincts of its father, and who was known to Carstairs, or
-Cuddiford.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This made the story of interest to me, and caused me to listen
-earnestly to the captain's words.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Coming back from the Indies, and not so very long, either, after the
-French king had made him a lieutenant of his navy--perhaps because he
-was a villain. He does that now and again. 'Tis his way. Look at Bart,
-to wit. There's a sweet vagabond for you. Has plagued us honest
-merchants and carriers more than all Tourville's navy. Yet, now, he is
-an officer, too.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But Grandmont, Captain! Grandmont.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! Grandmont. Well, he was a
-filibuster--privateer--buccaneer--pirate--what you will! Burnt up all
-their woods at Campeachy--the old man spake true--because the
-commandant wouldn't pay the ransom he and his crew demanded; also
-because the commandant said that when he had slaughtered them all, if
-he did so, he would never find out where their buried wealth was. Then
-he took a Pink one day with four hundred thousand francs' worth of
-goods and money on board, and slew every soul in the ship. Tied dead
-and living together, back to back, and flung them into the sea. Oh! He
-was a devil,&quot; he concluded. &quot;A wicked villain! My word! If only some
-of our ships of war could have caught him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet he is dead?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dead enough, the Lord be praised.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And if this is a friend of his--this Cuddiford, or Carstairs--he must
-needs be a villain, too.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Needs be! Nay, is, for a surety. And, Mr. Crespin,&quot; he said, speaking
-slowly, &quot;you have heard his shrieks and singings--could you doubt what
-he has been?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Doubt? No,&quot; I answered. &quot;Who could? Yet, I wonder who were the dead
-men looking down the stairs, as they came in from the garden.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who? Only a few of their victims. If he and Grandmont worked together
-they could not count 'em. Well, one is dead; good luck when the other
-goes too. And, when he does, what a meeting they will have there!&quot; and
-he pointed downward.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4>
-
-<h5>SECRET SERVICE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">It seemed not, however, as though this meeting were very likely to
-take place yet, since by the time we were off Cape St. Vincent--which
-was at early dawn of the second morning following the old man's
-delirium--that person seemed to have become very much restored. 'Tis
-true he was still very weak, and kept his berth; but otherwise seemed
-well enough. Also all his fever and wanderings were gone, and as he
-now lay in his bunk reading of many papers which the negro handed to
-him from the open uppermost chest, he might, indeed, have passed for
-that same reverend minister which the captain had, at the beginning,
-imagined him to be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Both of us--the captain because he was the captain, and I because I
-was the only other passenger--had been in and out to see him now and
-again and to ask him how he did. Yet, I fear, 'twas not charity nor
-pity that induced either of us to these Christian tasks. For the
-skipper was prompted by, I think, but one desire, namely, to get the
-man ashore alive out of his ship, and, thereby, to have done with him.
-He liked not pirates, he said, &quot;neither when met on the high seas, nor
-when retired from business&quot;; while as for myself, well! the man
-fascinated me. He seemed to be, indeed, so scheming an old villain,
-and to have such a strange past behind him, that I could not help but
-be attracted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now in these visits which I had paid him at intervals, he had told me
-that he was on his way to Cadiz, where he had much business to attend
-to; sometimes, he said, in purchasing goods that the galleons brought
-in from the Indies, sometimes in sending out other goods, and so
-forth. Also he said--which was true enough, as I knew very well--the
-galleons were now due; it was for this reason he was on his way to the
-south of Spain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So,&quot; said the captain, when I repeated this, &quot;the devil can speak
-truth sure enough when he needs. To wit, it is the truth that the
-galleons are on their way home. What else has he said to you, Mr.
-Crespin?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He has asked me what my business may be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you have told him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay. I tell no one that,&quot; I replied, &quot;It is of some consequence, and
-I talk not of it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet here, and with a view to making clear this narrative which I am
-setting down, 'tis necessary that I should state who and what I am,
-and also the reason why I, Mervyn Crespin, am on my road to Cadiz on
-board a coasting vessel, <i>La Mouche Noire</i>--once a French ship of
-merchandise, now an English one. She was taken from that nation by
-some of our own vessels of war, sold by public auction, and bought by
-her present captain, who now is using her in his trade between England
-and Holland, and Holland and Spain--a risky trade, too, seeing that
-war has broken out again, that England and Austria are fighting the
-French and Spanish, and that the sea swarms with privateers; yet,
-because of the risk, a profitable trade, too, for those who can make
-their journeys uncaught by the enemy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">However, to myself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I am, let me say, therefore, an officer of the Cuirassiers, or Fourth
-Horse, which, a short time before the late King William's death, has
-been serving in the Netherlands under the partial command of Ginkell,
-Earl of Athlone. The rank I hold is that of lieutenant--aspiring
-naturally to far greater things--and already I have had the honor of
-taking part in several sieges, amongst others Kaiserswerth, with which
-the war commenced, as well as in many skirmishes. Now, 'twas at this
-place, where my Lord the Earl of Athlone commanded, that I had the
-extreme good fortune, as I shall ever deem it, of being wounded, and
-thereby brought under his Lordship's notice. As for the wound, 'twas
-nothing, one of M. Bouffler's lancers having run me through the fleshy
-part of my arm, and it was soon healed; but the earl happened to see
-the occurrence, as also the manner in which I cut the man down a
-second later, and from that moment he took notice of me--sent for me
-to his quarters when the siege was over, spoke with commendation of my
-riding and my sword play, and asked me of my family, he being one who,
-although a Dutchman who came only into England with his late master,
-knew much of our gentry and noble homes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of the Crespins of Kent, eh?&quot; he said. &quot;The Crespins--a fair, good
-family. I knew Sir Nicholas, who fell at the Boyne. What was he to
-you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My uncle, sir. The late king gave me my guidon in the Cuirassiers
-because of his service.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good! He could do no less. Your uncle was a solid man--trustworthy.
-If he said he would do a thing, he did it--or died. 'Twas thus in
-Ireland. You remember?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I remember, sir. He said he would take prisoner Tyrconnel with his
-own hands, and would have done it had not a bullet found his brain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do believe he would. Are you as trustworthy as he?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Try me,&quot; and I looked him straight in the face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Maybe I will. A little later,&quot; and even as he spoke fell a-musing,
-while he drank some schnapps, which was his native drink, and on
-which, they say, these Hollanders are weaned--from a little glass.
-Then soon spake again:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What languages have you? Any besides your own?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have the French. Also some Spanish. My grandmother was of Spanish
-descent, and dwelt with us in Kent. She taught me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph!&quot; And again he mused, then again went on, though now--doubtless
-to see if my French was any good, and to try me--he spoke in that
-tongue.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Could you pass for a Frenchman, think you, amongst those who are not
-French, say in Spain itself?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, amongst those who are not French, I am sure I could. Even
-amongst those who are French, if I gave out that I was, say, a
-Dutchman speaking with an accent,&quot; and I laughed, for I could not help
-it. The earl had a bottle nose and eyes like a lobster's, and made a
-queer grimace when I said this boldly. Then he, too, laughed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So I've an accent, eh, when I speak French? You mean that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I mean, sir, that however well one speaks a language not their own,
-there is some accent that betrays them to those whose native tongue
-they are speaking. A Dutchman, a Swiss, most Englishmen and many
-Germans can all speak French, and 'twould pass outside France for
-French. But a native of Touraine, or a Parisian, or any subject of
-King Louis could not be deceived.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;True. Yet you or I could pass, say in Spain, for Frenchmen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph! Well, we will see. And, perhaps, I will, as you say,
-try you. Only if I do, 'twill be a risky service for you. A
-lieutenant-colonelcy or a gibbet. A regiment or a bullet. How would
-you like that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I risk the bullet every moment that the Cuirassiers are in action,
-and there is no lieutenant-colonelcy in the other scale if I escape. I
-prefer the 'risky service,' when there is one. As for the gibbet;
-well, one death is the same as another, pretty much, and the gibbet
-will do as well as any other, so long as 'tis not at Tyburn--which
-would be discreditable.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are a man of metal!&quot; the Dutchman exclaimed, &quot;and I like you,
-although you don't approve of my accent. You will do. I want a man of
-action, not a courtier----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I meant no rudeness,&quot; I interposed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor offered any. Tush! man, we Dutch are not courtiers, either. But
-we are staunch. And I will give you a chance of being so. Come here
-again to-morrow night. You shall have a throw for that colonelcy--or
-that gibbet.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My Lord, I am most grateful to you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good day. Come to-morrow night. Now I must sleep.&quot; And he began to
-divest himself of his wig and clothes, upon which I bowed and
-withdrew.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Be sure I was there the next night at the same time, exchanging my
-guard with Bertram Saxby, who, alas! was killed shortly afterward at
-Ruremonde. The day I had passed in sleeping much, for I had a
-suspicion that it was like enough Ginkell would send me on the service
-he had spoken of that very night; might, indeed, order me to take
-horse within the next hour, and I was desirous of starting fresh--of
-beginning well. He was a rough creature, this Dutch general--or
-English, rather, now!--and would be as apt as not to give me my
-instructions as I entered the room, and bid me be miles away ere
-midnight struck. Therefore I went prepared. Also my horse was ready in
-its stall.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He was not alone when I did enter his quarters. Instead, he was seated
-at a table covered with papers and charts, on the other side of which
-there sat another gentleman, a man of about fifty, of strikingly
-handsome features; a man who, in his day, I guessed, must have played
-havoc with women's hearts--might, indeed, I should think, have done so
-now had he been inclined that way. Those soft, rounded features, and
-those eyes, themselves soft and liquid--I saw them clearly when he
-lifted them to scan my face!--would, I guessed, make him irresistible
-to the fair sex.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He spoke first after I had saluted the Earl of Athlone--and I observed
-that, intuitively, he also returned my salute by a bend of his head,
-so that I felt sure he was used to receive such courtesies wherever he
-might be and in whatever company--then he said to the Dutchman, in a
-voice that, though somewhat high, was as musical as a chime of bells.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This is the gentleman, Ginkell?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This is the gentleman. A lieutenant of the Fourth Horse.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir,&quot; said the other, &quot;be seated,&quot; and he pointed with a beautifully
-white hand to a chair by the table. &quot;I desire some little conversation
-with you. I am the Earl of Marlborough.&quot; And as he mentioned his name
-he put out that white hand again and offered it to me, I taking it
-with all imaginable respect. He was at this time the most conspicuous
-subject of any sovereign in the world; his name was known from one end
-of Europe to the other. Also it was the most feared, although he had
-not yet put the crowning point to his glory nor risen to the highest
-rank for which he was destined. But he was very near his zenith
-now--his greatness almost at its height--and, I have often thought
-since, there was something within him at this time which told him it
-was close at hand. For he had an imperturbable calmness, an unfailing
-quiet graciousness, as I witnessed afterward on many occasions, which
-alone could be possessed by one who felt sure of himself. In every
-word he spoke, in his every action, he proclaimed that he was certain
-of, and master of, his destiny!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My Lord Athlone tells me,&quot; he continued, when I was seated, the soft
-voice flowing musically, &quot;that you have the fitting aspirations of a
-soldier--desire a regiment, and are willing to earn one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I bowed and muttered that to succeed in my career was my one desire,
-and that if I could win success I would spare no effort. Then he went
-on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You speak French. That is good. Also Spanish. That, too, is good.
-Likewise, I hear, can disguise your identity as an Englishman if
-necessary. That is well, also. Mr. ----&quot; and he took up a piece of
-paper lying before him, on which I supposed my name was written, &quot;Mr.
-Crespin, I--we--are going to employ you on secret service. Are you
-willing to undertake it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am willing, my Lord, to do anything that may advance my career.
-Anything that may become a soldier.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is as it should be. The light in which to regard
-matters--anything that may become a soldier. That before all. Well, to
-be short, we are going to send you to Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To Cadiz, my Lord!&quot; I said, unable to repress some slight feeling of
-astonishment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. To Cadiz, where you will not find another English soldier. Still
-that will, perhaps, not matter very much, since we do not desire you
-when there to appear as a soldier yourself. You are granted leave from
-your regiment indefinitely while on this mission, and, at the first at
-least, you will be a private gentleman. Also, when at Cadiz, you will
-please to be anything but an <i>English</i> gentleman.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Or a Dutch one,&quot; put in the other earl with a guttural laugh.
-&quot;Therefore, assume not the Dutch accent.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Evidently my Lord Marlborough did not know of the joke underlying this
-remark, since he went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As a Frenchman you will have the best chance. Or, perhaps, as a Swiss
-merchant. But that we leave to you. What you have to do is to get to
-Cadiz, and, when there, to pass as some one, neither English nor
-Dutch, who is engaged in ordinary mercantile pursuits. Then when the
-fleet comes in----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The fleet, my Lord!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. The English fleet. I should tell you--I must make myself clear.
-A large fleet under Admirals Rooke and Hopson, as well as some Dutch
-admirals, are about to besiege Cadiz. They will shortly sail from
-Portsmouth, as we have advices, and it is almost a certainty that they
-will succeed in gaining possession of the island, which is Cadiz. That
-will be of immense service to us, since, while we are fighting King
-Louis in the north, the Duke of Ormond, who goes out in that fleet in
-command of between thirteen and fourteen thousand men, will be able to
-attack the Duke of Anjou, or, as he now calls himself, King Philip V
-of Spain, in the south. But that is not all. We are not sending you
-there to add one more strong right arm to His Grace's forces--we could
-utilize that here, Mr. Crespin,&quot; and he bowed courteously, &quot;but
-because we wish you to convey a message to him and the admirals.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I, too, bowed again, and expressed by my manner that I was listening
-most attentively, while the earl continued:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The message is this: We have received information from a sure source
-that the galleons now on their way back to Spain from the Indies have
-altered their plan of arrival because they, in their turn, have been
-informed in some way, by some spy or traitor, that this expedition
-will sail from England. Therefore they will not go near Cadiz. But the
-spot to which they will proceed is Vigo, in the north. Now,&quot; and he
-rose as he spoke, and stood in front of the empty fireplace, &quot;your
-business will be to convey this intelligence to Sir George Rooke and
-those under him, and I need not tell you that you are like enough to
-encounter dangers in so conveying it. Are you prepared to undertake
-them?&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4>
-
-<h5>I FIND A SHIP.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You see,&quot; the Earl of Marlborough continued, while Ginkell and I
-stood on either side of him, &quot;that neither your risks nor your
-difficulties will be light. To begin with, you must pass as a
-Frenchman, or, at least, not an Englishman, for Cadiz, like all
-Spanish ports and towns, will not permit of any being there.
-Therefore, your only way to get into it is to be no Englishman. Now,
-how, Mr. Crespin, would you suggest reaching the place and obtaining
-entry? It is far away.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I thought a moment on this; then I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But Portugal, my lord, is not closed to us. That country has not yet
-thrown in its lot with either France or Austria.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is true. And the southern frontier of Portugal is very near to
-Spain--to Cadiz. You mean that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. I could proceed to the frontier of Portugal, could perhaps get
-by sea to Tavira--then, as a Frenchman, cross into Spain, and so to
-Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He pondered a little on this, then said: &quot;Yes, the idea is feasible.
-Only, how to go to Tavira?&quot; and he bent over a chart lying on the
-table, and regarded it fixedly as he spoke. &quot;How to do that?&quot; running
-his finger down the coast line of Portugal as he spoke, and then up
-again as far north as the Netherlands, stopping at Rotterdam.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All traffic is closed,&quot; he muttered, &quot;between Spain and Holland now,
-otherwise there would be countless vessels passing between Rotterdam
-and Cadiz which would doubtless put you ashore on the Portuguese
-coast. But now--now--there will scarce be any.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ginkell had been called away by one of his aides-de-camp as his
-lordship bent over the chart and mused upon it, or, doubtless, his
-astute Dutch mind might have suggested some way out of the difficulty
-that stared us in the face; but even as we pondered over the sheet an
-idea occurred to me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My Lord,&quot; I said, &quot;may I suggest this: That I should make my way to
-Rotterdam to begin with--by some chance there may be a ship going
-south--through some part of the bay at least. But even if it is not
-so--if all traffic is stopped--why then I could at least get to
-England, might arrive there before the fleet sails for Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; his Lordship interrupted; &quot;you would be too late. They may have
-sailed by now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know not what further to propose, my Lord.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We must risk it,&quot; he said, promptly. &quot;Chance your finding some vessel
-by which you can proceed, even if only part of the way. The hope is a
-poor one, yet 'tis worth catching at. King Louis wants the money those
-galleons are bringing; his coffers are empty; he hardly knows where to
-turn for the wherewithal to pay his and his grandson's men; we want
-it, too, if we can get it. Above all, we want to prevent the wealth
-falling into the hands of Spain, which now means France. Mr. Crespin,
-on an almost forlorn chance you must start for Rotterdam.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When shall I go, my Lord? To-night? At once?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are ready?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am ready.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good! You have the successful soldier's qualities. Yes, you must go
-at once--at once.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span style="letter-spacing: 9px">
-* * * * * * * * *</span></p>
-
-<p class="normal">That night I was on the road for Rotterdam, which is fifty leagues
-and more to the northeast of Kaiserswerth, so that I had a fair good
-ride before me ere I reached what might prove to be the true outset of
-my journey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I did not go alone, however, since at this time I rode in the company
-of my Lord Marlborough, who was returning to the Hague, to which he
-had come in March as Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to
-the States General, as well as Captain General of all Her Majesty's
-forces, both at home and abroad. Also, his Lordship had been chosen to
-command the whole of the allied forces combined against the King of
-France and his grandson, the King of Spain, whom we regarded only as
-the Duke of Anjou; and he was now making all preparations for that
-great campaign, which was already opened, and was soon to be pushed on
-with extreme vigour and with such success that at last the power and
-might of Louis were quite crushed and broken. This concerns not me,
-however, at present.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Nor did my long ride in company with his Lordship and a brilliant
-staff offer any great incident. Suffice it, therefore, if I say that
-on the evening of the second day from my setting out, and fifty hours
-after I had quitted Kaiserswerth, I rode into Rotterdam, and, finding
-a bed for the night at the &quot;Indian Coffee House,&quot; put up there.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This I did not do, however, without some difficulty, since, at this
-time, Rotterdam was full of all kinds of people from almost every part
-of Europe, excepting always France and Spain, against the natives of
-which countries very strict laws for their expulsion had been passed
-since the declaration of war which was made conjointly by the Queen,
-the Emperor and the States General, against those two countries on the
-4th of May of this year, 1702.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But of other peoples the town was, as I say, full. In the river there
-lay coasting vessels, deep sea vessels, merchant ships, indeed every
-kind of craft almost that goes out to sea, and belonging to England,
-to Holland, to Denmark and other lands. Also there were to be seen
-innumerable French vessels; but these were prizes which had been
-dragged in after being taken prisoners at sea, and would be disposed
-of shortly, as well as their goods and merchandise, by the Dyke-Grauf,
-or high bailiff. And of several of these ships, the captains and the
-seamen, as well as in many cases the passengers who were belated on
-their journeys, were all ashore helping to fill up the inns and
-taverns. Also troops were quartered about everywhere, these being not
-only the Dutch, or natives, who were preparing to go forward to the
-Hague and thence to wheresoever my Lord Marlborough should direct, but
-also many of our own, brought over by our great ships of war to
-Helvetsluys, and, themselves, on their way to serve under his command.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The room, therefore, which I got at the Indian Coffee House, was none
-of the best, yet, since I was a soldier, I made shift with it very
-well, and in other ways the place was convenient enough for my
-purpose. It may be, indeed, that I could scarce have selected a better
-house at which to stop, seeing that the &quot;ordinary&quot; below was the one
-most patronized by the merchant captains who flocked in daily for
-their dinner, and for the conversation and smoking and drinking which
-succeeded that meal.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now, so that I shall arrive as soon as may be at the description
-of all that befell me, and was the outcome of the mission which the
-Earl of Marlborough confided to me, let me set down at once that it
-was not long before I, by great good chance, stumbled on that very
-opportunity which I desired, and which was so necessary to the
-accomplishment of what his Lordship wanted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This is how it happened:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After the ordinary, at which I myself took a seat every day at one
-o'clock, the drinking and the smoking and the conversation began, as I
-have said, and none, however strange they might be at first to the
-customers of the place, could be there long without the making of
-acquaintances; for all the talk ran on the one subject in which all
-were interested and absorbed, namely, the now declared war and the
-fighting which had been done, and was also to do; on the stoppage to
-trade and ruin to business that must occur, and such like. And I can
-tell you that many an honest sea captain and many a burly Rotterdam
-burgher drank down his schnapps or his potato brandy or seidel of
-brown beer, as his taste might be, while heaving also of sighs, or
-muttering pious exclamations or terrible curses--also as his taste
-might direct--at the threatened ruin, and also at the fear which
-gripped his heart, that soon he would not have the wherewithal left
-for even these gratifications, humble as they were.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Curse the war!&quot; said one, to whom I had spoken more than once. He
-was, indeed, my captain of <i>La Mouche Noire</i>, in whose ship you have
-already found me; &quot;it means desolation for me and mine if it lasts,
-hunger and shoelessness for my wife and little ones at home in
-Shadwell. Above all I curse the ambition of the French king, who has
-plunged all Europe into it; placed all honest men 'twixt hawk and
-buzzard, as to fortune. Curse him, I say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, gurse him!&quot; chimed in a fat Friesslander captain, who sat at his
-elbow. &quot;Gurse him, I say, too. I was now choost maging for Chava;
-should have peen out of the riffer mit meine vreight if his vleet had
-not gorne along mit that von gursed Chean Part in it, ven I had to put
-pack. And here I am mit all mein goots----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And here am I, mit all mein!&quot; broke in my captain, a-laughing in
-spite of himself, &quot;yet--yet I know not if I will not make a push for
-it. I think ever of the home at Shadwell and the little ones. I could
-not abide to think also of their calling for bread, and of their
-mother having none to give them. Yet 'twill come to that ere long. And
-the war may last for years.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where were you for?&quot; I asked him, using indeed what had become a set
-phrase in my mouth since I had consorted with all these sailors. For
-by enquiring of each one with whom I conversed what his destination
-had been, or would be if he had courage to risk the high seas outside,
-I thought that at last I might strike upon one whose way was mine. For
-all were not afraid to go forth; indeed there was scarcely a dark
-night in which one or two did not get down the river and sneak out
-into the open, thinking that, when there, there was a chance of
-escaping the French ships of war and privateers and of reaching their
-destination, while by remaining here there was no chance of earning a
-brass farthing. And I had known of several ships going out since I had
-been in Rotterdam, only they were of no use to me. One was bound for
-Archangel, another one for the Indies, a third for our colony of
-Massachusetts.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I,&quot; said my captain, whose name I knew afterward to be Tandy. &quot;I? Oh,
-I was freighted for Cadiz. But of course, that can never be now. Yet
-if I could but get away I might do much with my goods. At Lisbon they
-would sell well, or even farther south. Though, 'tis true, there's not
-much money below that till one comes to Spain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Though I had thought the time must come when I should hear one of
-these sailors say that Cadiz was, or had been, his road (I knew that
-if it did not come soon 'twould be no good for me, and I might as well
-make my way back to my regiment), yet now, when I did so hear it, I
-almost started with joyful surprise. Yet even in so hearing, what had
-I gained? The captain had but said that at one time, before the
-declaration of hostilities, he had been ready to sail for Cadiz. He
-did not say that at this moment--almost three months later--he was
-still likely to go. Instead, had said it could never be now.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But--for it meant much to me!--my heart beat a little faster as I
-asked, leaning across the beer and spirit-slopped table to him:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you ever on your cruises carry passengers?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He gave me a quick glance. I read it to mean that he would be glad to
-know what my object could be in such a question, put seriously and in
-a somewhat low tone, as though not intended for other people's ears.
-Then he said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! ay! I carry 'em, when I can get 'em, if they will pay fairly. But
-who do you think would trust themselves aboard a coaster now, in such
-times as these, unless she was under convoy of one of the queen's
-ships in company with others?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I would,&quot; I replied, leaning even a little more forward than before,
-and speaking in a still lower tone. &quot;I would, to get as near to Cadiz
-as might be. And pay well, too.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He did not speak for a moment; instead, he glanced his eye over me as
-though scanning my outward gear for proof of what I had said as to
-paying handsomely. Yet I did not fear this scrutiny, for I was well
-enough appareled at all points, having when I left Venloo put off my
-uniform and donned a very fair riding suit of blue cloth, well faced
-and passemented; also my plain sword and wig were of the best, such as
-befitted a gentleman.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Pay well,&quot; he said, when he had concluded this inspection, &quot;pay well.
-Humph! That might induce me, since I am like enough to lose my goods
-ere I sight Cape Finisterre. Pay well. You mean it? Well, now see!
-What would you pay? Come. A fancy price? To be put as near Cadiz as
-can be compassed. And no questions asked,&quot; and he winked at me so that
-I wondered what he took me for. Later on I found that he supposed me
-to be one of the many spies in the pay of France, who, because they
-had both the English and French tongue, were continually passing from
-one part of the continent of Europe to another.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As to the questions,&quot; I replied, &quot;you might ask as many as you
-desired. They would not be answered. As to the pay, what will you
-take?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He thought a moment, and again his eye ranged over my habiliments;
-then he said, sharply:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A hundred guineas. Fifty down, on the nail, the rest at the end of
-the journey. You to take all risks. That is, I mean, even though we
-get no further than the mouth of the Scheldt--which is like enough.
-Say, will you give it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis, indeed, a fancy price, yet, on conditions, yes,&quot; I answered
-promptly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Those conditions being----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That you weigh within twenty-four hours; that if we are chased you
-run, or even fight, till there is no further hope, and that if we
-escape capture you approach to the nearest point to Cadiz possible.
-Tavira to be that point.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He got up and went out of the door into the street, and I saw him
-looking up into the heavens at the clouds passing beneath the sun.
-Then he came back and resumed his seat, after which he said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If the wind keeps as 'tis now I will weigh ere twenty-four hours are
-past. The conditions to be as you say. And the fifty guineas to be in
-my hands ere we up anchor. They,&quot; he added, half to himself, &quot;will be
-something for the home even though I lose my ship.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And this being settled and all arrangements concluded, we went off in
-his boat, which was lying at the steps of the Boömjes, to see the
-ship. Then, I having selected my cabin out of two which he had
-unoccupied, returned to the coffee house to write my Lord Marlborough
-word of what I had done, to dispose of my horse--which I was sorry
-enough to do, since it was a good, faithful beast that had carried me
-well; yet there was no use in keeping it, I not knowing if I should
-ever see Rotterdam again--to make one or two other preparations, and
-to write to my mother at home.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As to the hundred guineas--great as the demand was, I felt justified
-in paying it, since, if I succeeded in my task, the result might be
-splendid for England. Also I had a sufficiency of money with me, the
-earl having ordered two hundred guineas to be given me out of the
-regimental chest (which was pretty full, seeing that at Venloo eight
-great chests of French gold were taken possession of by us on gaining
-the town), and had also given me bills for three hundred more guineas,
-signed by his own hand, which the money changers would be only too
-glad to pay anywhere. And, besides this, I had some money of my own,
-and should have more from the sale of the horse.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There remains one thing, however, to mention, which I have almost
-forgot to set down, namely, that at the Indian Coffee House I had
-given my name accurately, his Lordship, who was perfectly acquainted
-with France--indeed, he had once served her under Turenne, in his
-capacity of colonel of the &quot;English Regiment&quot; sent out by King Charles
-the Second--having said that Crespin was as much a French as an
-English name. And although no questions had as yet been asked as to
-what my business was, there being, indeed, none who had any right or
-title to so ask, I had resolved that, if necessary, I would do this:
-namely, here in Holland I would be English, since, at the time, and we
-being allies, it was almost one and the same thing; and that in Spain
-I would be French, which was also at the period one and the same
-thing. And if we were to be captured by any of Louis' privateers or
-ships of war also I should be French, in that case possibly a
-Canadian, to account for any strangeness in my accent.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And with this all fixed in my mind I made my preparations for going to
-sea in <i>La Mouche Noire</i>.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4>
-
-<h5>AN ESCAPE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The wind shifted never a point, so that, ere sunset the next day, we
-were well down the river and nearing the mouth, while already ahead of
-us we could see the waves of the North Sea tumbling about. Also, we
-could see something else, that we could have done very well without,
-namely, the topmasts of a great frigate lying about three miles off
-the coast, or rather cruising about and keeping off and on, the vessel
-being doubtless one of Louis' warships, bent on intercepting anything
-that came out of the river.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet,&quot; said Captain Tandy, as he stood on the poop and regarded her
-through his perspective glass, &quot;she will not catch us. Let but the
-night fall, and out we go, while, thanks to the Frenchman who built
-our little barky, we can keep so well in that she can never come anear
-us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She can come near enough, though, to send a round shot or two into
-our side,&quot; I hazarded, &quot;if she sees our lights.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She won't see our lights,&quot; the captain made answer, and again he
-indulged in that habit which seemed a common one with him--he winked
-at me; a steady, solemn kind of a wink, that, properly understood,
-conveyed a good deal. And, having favoured me with it, he gave orders
-that the light sail under which we had come down the river should be
-taken in, and, this done, we lay off the little isle of Rosenberg,
-which here breaks the Maas in two, until nightfall.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now it was that Tandy gave me a piece of information which, at
-first, I received with anything but satisfaction; the information, to
-wit, that at the last moment almost--at eleven o'clock in the morning,
-and before I had come on board--he had been fortunate enough to get
-another passenger, this passenger being the man Carstairs--or
-Cuddiford, as he came to consider him--whom, at the opening of this
-narrative, you have seen in a delirium.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I could not refuse the chance, Mr. Crespin,&quot; he said, for he knew
-my name by now. &quot;Things are too ill with me, owing to this accursed
-fresh war, for me to throw guineas away. So when his blackamoor
-accosted me at the 'Indian' and said that he heard I was going a
-voyage south--God, He knows how these things leak out, since I had
-never spoke a word of my intention, though some of the men, or the
-ship's chandler, of whom I bought last night, may have done so--and
-would I take his master and him? I was impelled to do it! There are
-the wife and the children at home.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And have you got another hundred guineas from him?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, for him and the black. But they will not trouble you. The old
-gentleman--who seems to be something like a minister--tells me he is
-not well, and will not quit his cabin. The negro will berth near him;
-they will not interfere with you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do they know there is another passenger aboard?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have not spoken to the old man; maybe, however, some of the sailors
-may have told the servant. Yet none know your name; but I--it can be
-kept secret an you wish.&quot; And again he winked at me, thinking, of
-course, as he had done before, that my business was of a ticklish
-nature, as indeed it was, though not quite that which he supposed.
-Nay, he felt very sure it must be so, since otherwise he would have
-got no hundred guineas out of me for such a passage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do not wish it known,&quot; I said. &quot;It <i>must</i> be kept secret. Also my
-country. There must be no talking.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never fear,&quot; he replied. &quot;I know nothing. And I do not converse with
-the men, most of whom are Hollanders, since I had to pick them up in a
-hurry. As for the old man, you need not see him; and, if you do, you
-can keep your own counsel, I take it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I answered that I could very well do that; after which the captain
-left me--for now the night had come upon us, dark and dense, except
-for the stars, and we were about to run out into the open. But even as
-I watched the men making sail, and felt the little ship running
-through the water beneath me--I could soon hear her fore foot gliding
-through it with a sharp ripple that resembled the slitting of silk--I
-wished that those other passengers had not come aboard, that I could
-have made the cruise alone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet we were aboard, he and I, and there was no help for it; it must be
-endured. But still I could not help wondering what any old minister
-should want to be making such a journey as this for; especially
-wondered, also, why he should be attended by a black servant; and why,
-again, it should be worth his while to pay a hundred guineas for the
-passage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But you know now as well as I do that this man was no minister, but
-rather, if Tandy's surmises were right, some villainous old filibuster
-who had lived through evil days and known evil spirits; my meditations
-are, therefore, of no great import. Rather let me get on to what was
-the outcome of my journey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When we were at sea we showed no light at all; no! not at foremast,
-main or mizzen; so that I very well understood now why the captain had
-winked as he said that the Frenchman, if she was that, would not see
-us; and especially I understood it when, on going below, I found that
-the cabin windows were fastened with dead lights so that no ray could
-steal out from them. Also, the hatches were over the companions so
-that neither could any light ascend from below. In truth, as we
-slapped along under the stiff northeast breeze that blew off the
-Holland coast, we seemed more like some dark flying spectre of the
-night than a ship, and I could not but wonder to myself what we should
-be taken for if seen by any passer-by. Yet, had I only known, there
-were at that time hundreds of ships passing about in all these waters
-in the same manner--French ships avoiding the English war vessels, and
-English and Dutch avoiding the French war vessels; and--which,
-perhaps, it was full as well I did not know--sometimes two of them
-came into contact with each other, after which neither was ever more
-heard of. Only, in different ports there were weeping women and
-children left, who--sometimes for years!--prayed for the day to come
-when the wanderers might return, they never knowing that, instead of
-those poor toilers of the sea having been made prisoners (as they
-hoped) who would at last be exchanged, they were lying at the bottom
-of the sea.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis a gay minister, at any rate,&quot; I said to Captain Tandy when I
-returned to the deck--for all was so stuffy down below, owing to the
-closing up of every ingress for the fresh air, that I could not remain
-there--&quot;and he at least seems not to mind the heat.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is he doing, then?&quot; the captain asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is singing a little,&quot; I replied, &quot;and through the half open door
-of his cabin one may hear the clinking of bottle against glass. A
-merry heart.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The fiend seize his mirth! I hope he will not make too much turmoil,
-nor set the ship afire. If he does we shall be seen easy enough.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I hoped so, too, and as each night the old man waxed more noisy and
-the clink of the bottle was heard continuously--until at last his
-drinking culminated as I have written--the fear which the captain had
-expressed took great hold of me, so that I could scarce sleep at all.
-Yet those fears were not realized, the Lord be praised! or I should
-scarcely be penning this narrative now.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The first night passed and, as 'twas summer, the dawn soon came, by
-which time we were running a little more out to sea, though--since to
-our regret we saw that the frigate was on our beam instead of being
-left far behind, as we had hoped would be the case--we now sailed
-under false colours. Therefore at our peak there flew at this
-time the lilies of France, and not our own English flag. Yet 'twas
-necessary--imperative, indeed--that such should be the case if we
-would escape capture. And even those despised lilies might not save us
-from that. If the frigate, which we knew by this time to be a ship of
-war, since her sides were pierced three tiers deep for cannon, and on
-her deck we could observe soldiers, suspected for a moment those
-colours to be false she would slap a shot at us; the first, perhaps,
-across our bows only, but the second into our waist, or, if that
-missed, then the third, which would doubtless do our office for us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At present, however, she did nothing, only held on steadily on her
-course, which nevertheless was ominous enough, for this action told
-plainly that she had seen us leave the river, or she would have
-remained luffing about there still. And, also, she must have known we
-were not French, for what French ship would have been allowed to come
-out of the Maas as we had come?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She did nothing, I have said; yet was not that sleuth-like following
-of hers something? Did it not expound the thoughts of her captain as
-plainly as though he had uttered them in so many words? Did it not
-tell that he was in doubt as to who and what we were; that he set off
-against the suspicious fact of our having quitted the river, which
-bristled with the enemies of France, the other facts, namely, that our
-ship was built French fashion, that maybe he could read her French
-name on her stern, and that she flew the French flag?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet what puzzled us more than aught else was, how had the frigate
-known that we had so got out? The night had been dark and black, and
-we showed no lights.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Still she knew it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The day drew on and, with it, the sea abated a little, so that the
-tumbling waves, which had often obscured the frigate from us for some
-time, and, doubtless, us from it, became smoother, and Tandy, who had
-never taken his eye off the great ship, turned round and gave now an
-order to the men to hoist more sail. Also another to the man at the
-wheel to run in a point.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he came to where I was standing, and said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She draws a little nearer; I fear they will bring us to. Ha! as I
-thought.&quot; And even as he spoke there came a puff from the frigate's
-side; a moment later the report of a gun; another minute, and, hopping
-along the waves went a big round shot, some fifty yards ahead of us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What will you do?&quot; I asked the captain. &quot;The next will not be so far
-ahead.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Run for it,&quot; he said. &quot;They may not hit us--short of a broadside--and
-if I can get in another mile or so they cannot follow. Starboard, you
-below,&quot; he called out again to the man at the wheel, and once more
-bellowed his orders to the men aloft.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This brought the ship's head straight for where the land was--we could
-see it plain enough with the naked eye, lying flat and low, ten miles
-away--also it brought our stern to the frigate, so that we presented
-nothing but that to them--a breadth of no more than between twenty and
-twenty-five feet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twill take good shooting to hit us this way,&quot; said Tandy very
-coolly. &quot;Yet, see, they mean to attempt it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That this was so, one could perceive in a moment; then came three
-puffs, one after the other, from their upper tier; then the three
-reports; then the balls hurtling along on either side of us, one just
-grazing our larboard yard-arm--we saw the splinters fly like
-feathers!--the others close enough, but doing no harm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shoot, and be damned to you,&quot; muttered Tandy; &quot;another ten minutes
-more, and you can come no further. Look,&quot; and he pointed ahead of us
-to where I saw, a mile off, the water crisping and foaming over a
-shoal bank, &quot;'tis eight miles outside Blankenberg, and is called 'The
-Devil's Bolster.' And we can get inside it, and they cannot.&quot; Then
-again he bellowed fresh orders, which even I, a landsman, understood
-well enough, or, at least, their purport. They were to enable us to
-get round and inside the reef, and so place it between us and the
-frigate.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They saw our move as soon as it was made, however, whereupon the
-firing from their gun-ports grew hotter, the balls rattling about us
-now in a manner that made me fear the ship must be struck ere long;
-nay, she was struck once, a round shot catching her on her starboard
-quarter and tearing off her sheathing in a long strip. Yet, at
-present, that was all the harm she had got, excepting that her mizzen
-shroud was cut in half.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now we were ahead of the reef and about half a mile off it; ten
-minutes later we were inside it, and, the frigate being able to
-advance no nearer because of her great draught, we were safe. They
-might shoot, as the captain said, and be damned to them; but shoot as
-much as they chose, they were not very like to hit us, since we were
-out of range. We were well in sight of each other, however, the reef
-lying like a low barricade betwixt us, and I could not but laugh at
-the contempt which the sturdy Dutch sailors we had on board testified
-for the discomfited Frenchmen. There were three of them at work on the
-fo'castle head at the time the frigate left off her firing, and no
-sooner did she do so and begin to back her sails to leave us in
-peace--though doubtless she meant lying off in wait for us when we
-should creep out--than these great Hollanders formed themselves into a
-sort of dance figure, and commenced capering and skipping about, with
-derisive gestures made at the great ship. And as we could see them
-regarding us through their glasses, by using our own, we knew very
-well that they saw these gestures of contempt. Tandy, however, soon
-put a stop to these, for, said he, &quot;They may lie out there a week
-waiting for us, and if then they catch us, they will not forget. And
-'twill go all the harder with us for our scorn. Peace, fools, desist.&quot;
-Whereon the men left off their gibes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lie out there a week,&quot; thinks I to myself. &quot;Fore Gad! I trust that
-may not be so. For if they do, and one delay follows another, heaven
-knows when I shall see Cadiz. Too late, anyway, to send the fleet
-after the galleons, who will, I fear, be in and unloaded long before
-the admiral can get up to Vigo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, as luck would have it, the frigate was not to lie there very
-long--not even so long as an hour. For, see, now, how Providence did
-intervene to help me on my way, and to remove at least that one
-obstacle to my going forward on my journey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Scarce had those lusty Dutch sailors been ordered off the head by
-Tandy than, as I was turning away from laughing at them, my attention
-was called back by a shout from the same quarter, and on looking
-round, I saw two of them spring up the ladder again to the very spot
-they had left, and begin pointing eagerly away beyond the frigate. And
-following their glances and pointing, this is what I saw:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Two other great ships looming large on the seascape, rising rapidly
-above the water, carrying all their canvas, coming on at a mighty
-rate. Two great ships sailing very free but near together, which in a
-few moments spread apart, so that they put me in mind of some huge
-bird opening of its wings--I know not why, yet so it was!--and then
-came on at some distance from each other, their vast black hulls
-rising every moment, and soon the foam becoming visible beneath their
-bows as their fore feet flung it asunder.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Down with that rag,&quot; shouted Tandy, squinting up at the lilies on our
-peak, and hardly shifting his perspective glass to do so. &quot;Down with
-it, and up with our own. My word! The Frenchman will get a full meal
-now. Look at their royal masts and the flag of England flying on
-them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I did look, and, after a hasty glance, at something else--the French
-frigate, our late pursuer!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Be very sure that she had seen those two avengers coming up in that
-fair breeze--also that she was making frantic efforts to escape. But
-her sails were all laid aback as I have said, also, she was off the
-wind. The glasses showed the confusion that prevailed on board her.
-And she had drifted so near the shoal that her danger was great.
-Unless she boldly ran out to meet those two queen's ships she would be
-on it ere long, and that was what she dared not do.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For now from the others we saw the puff of smoke, like white balls of
-wool, come forth; we saw the spits of flame; saw the Frenchman's
-mainmast go down five minutes later, and hang over the side nearest us
-like some wounded creature all entangled in a net. And still she
-neared the shoal, and still the white balls puffed out till they made
-a long fleecy line, through which the red flames darted; borne on the
-air we heard shouts and curses; amidst the roaring of the English
-cannon firing on the helpless, stricken thing, we heard another sound,
-a grinding, crashing sound, and we knew she was on the bank. Then saw
-above, at her mizzen, the French flag pulled down upon the cap, and
-heard through their trumpets their loud calls for assistance from the
-conquerors.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph! Humph!&quot; said Tandy. &quot;Old Lewis,&quot; for so he spoke of him, &quot;has
-got one ship the less--that's all. Loose the foresheet, there, my
-lads; stand by the mainsail halyards. Good. That's it; all together!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And away once more we went.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE ENGLISH SHIPS OF WAR.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">After that we met with no further trouble or interference, not even,
-so far as we knew, being passed by anything of more importance than a
-few small carrying craft similar to ourselves, who bore away from us
-on sighting with as much rapidity as we were prepared to bear away
-from them, since in those days, and for long after, no ship passing
-another at sea but dreaded it as though it was the Evil One himself;
-dreaded that the cabin windows, with their clean dimity cloths run
-across them, might be, in truth, nothing but masked gun ports with the
-nozzles of the cannon close up against the other side of those running
-curtains; dreaded, also, that, behind the bales of goods piled up in
-the waist, might be lurking scores of men, armed to the teeth, and
-ready for boarding!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also, as though to favour us--or me, who needed to get to the end of
-my journey as soon as might be--the wind blew fresh and strong abaft
-us from the north, so that by the evening of the fifth day from
-leaving Rotterdam we were drawing well to our journey's end, and were,
-in fact, rounding Cape St. Vincent, keeping in so near the coast that
-we could not only see the cruel rocks that jut out here like the teeth
-of some sea monster, but also the old monks sitting sunning themselves
-in front of their monastery above the cliffs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now it was at that time, and when we were getting very near to
-Tavira--which must be our journey's end, unless the English fleet, of
-which Lord Marlborough had spoken, was already into Cadiz, and masters
-of the place--that the old man who called himself Carstairs was taken
-with his delirium, of which I have written already.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But, as also I have told, he was better the next day, by noon of which
-we were well into the Bay of Lagos, and running for Cape Santa Maria;
-and 'twas then that he told me that story of his having much business
-to attend to at Cadiz, and that, the galleons being now due there, he
-was on his way to meet them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That I laughed in my sleeve at the fool's errand on which this old man
-had come--this old man, who had been a thieving buccaneer, if his
-wanderings and Tandy's suspicions were true--you may well believe.
-Also, I could not help but fall a-wondering how he would feel if, on
-nearing Tavira, we learnt that our countrymen were masters of Cadiz.
-For then he would do no business with his precious galleons, even
-should my Lord Marlborough be wrong--which, however, from the sure
-way in which he had spoken, I did not think was very like to be the
-case--and even if they had made for Cadiz, since they would at once be
-seized upon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was, however, of extreme misfortune that just at this time when all
-was so well for my chances, and when we were nearing our destination,
-the weather should have seen fit to undergo a sudden change, and that
-not only did the wind shift, but all the summer clearness of the back
-end of this fair August month should have departed. Indeed, so strange
-a change came over the elements that we knew not what to make of it.
-Up to now the heat had been great, so great, indeed, that I--who could
-neither endure the stuffiness of my cabin below nor the continual
-going and coming of the negro in the gangway which separated his
-master's cabin from mine, nor the stench of some drugs the old man was
-continually taking--had been sleeping on the deck. But now the tempest
-became so violent that I was forced to retreat back to the cabin, to
-bear the closeness as best I might, to hear the flappings of the black
-creature's great feet on the wooden floor at all hours of the night,
-and, sometimes again, the yowlings of the old man for drink.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For with the shifting of the wind to the east, or rather east by
-south, a terrible storm had come upon us; across the sea it howled and
-tore, buffeting our ship sorely and causing such destruction that it
-seemed like enough each moment that we should go to the bottom, and
-this in spite of every precaution being taken, even to striking our
-topmasts. Also we lay over so much to our starboard, and for so long,
-that again and again it seemed as though we should never right, while
-as we thus lay, the sea poured into us from port and scuttle. But what
-was worse for me--or would be worse if we lived through the tempest we
-were now in the midst of--we were being blown not only off our course,
-but back again the very way we had come, and out into the western
-ocean, so that to all else there had to be added the waste of most
-precious time. Time that, in my case, was golden!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Meanwhile Carstairs, who during the whole of our passage from
-Rotterdam had carefully kept his cabin--not even coming on deck during
-the time we were chased by the French frigate nor, later, when the two
-ships of war had battered and driven her on to the shoal bank--now saw
-fit to appear on deck and to take a keen interest in all that was
-going on around.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A brave storm,&quot; he said, shrieking the words in my ear--I having at
-last struggled up again to get air--amidst the howling of the wind and
-the fall of the sea upon our deck, each wave sounding as though a
-mountain had fallen, &quot;a brave storm! Ha! I have seen a-many, yet I
-know not if ever one worse than this.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What think you of our chances?&quot; I bawled back at him, while I noticed
-that his eye was brighter and clearer than I had seen it before, and
-that in his face there was some colour.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We shall do very well,&quot; he answered, &quot;having borne up till now. That
-fellow knows his work,&quot; and he nodded toward where Tandy was engaged
-in getting the foreyard swayed up. &quot;We shall do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">His words were indeed prophetic, for not an hour after he had uttered
-them the wind shifted once more, coming now full from the south, which
-was, however, of all directions the very one we would not have had it
-in; and with the change the sea went down rapidly, so that in still
-another hour the waves, instead of breaking over our decks, only
-slapped heavily against the ship's sides, while the vessel itself
-wallowed terribly amongst them. Yet so far we were saved from worse.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now to this there succeeded still another change--the sea began to
-smoke as though it were afire; from it there rose a cold steaming
-vapour, and soon we could not see twenty yards ahead of us, nor was
-the man at the wheel able to see beyond the fore-hatch. So that now we
-could not move in any direction for fear of what might be near, and
-were forced to burn lights and fire guns at intervals to give notice
-of our whereabouts in chance of passers by.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again, however--this time late at night--the elements changed, the
-mist and fog thinned somewhat and rose some feet from the surface of
-the now almost tranquil sea; it was at last possible to look ahead
-somewhat, though not possible to proceed, even if the light wind which
-blew beneath the fog would have taken us the way we desired to go.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And still the mist cleared so that we could see a mile--or two
-miles--around, and then we observed a sight that none of us could
-comprehend, not even Cuddiford, who whispered once to himself, though
-I heard him plain enough, &quot;What in the name of the devil does it mean?
-What? What?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Afar off, on our starboard quarter, we saw in the darkness of the
-night--there was no moon--innumerable lights dotting the sea; long
-lines of light such as tiers of ports will emit from ships, also
-lights higher up, as though on mastheads and yards--numbers of them,
-some scores each in their cluster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Cuddiford's voice sounded in my ear. Cuddiford's finger was laid on my
-arm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You understand?&quot; he asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis some great fleet.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I started--hardly could I repress that start or prevent myself from
-exclaiming: &quot;The English fleet for Cadiz!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet even as I did so, the water rippled on the bows where we were
-standing. It sounded as if those ripples blended with the man's voice
-and made a chuckling laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A large fleet,&quot; he said slowly, &quot;leaving Spain and making for the
-open.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then a moment later he was gone from my side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Leaving Spain and making for the open! What then did that mean?
-&quot;Leaving Spain and making for the open!&quot; I repeated to myself again.
-Was that true? And to assure myself I leant further forward into the
-night--as though half a yard nearer to those passing lights would
-assist my sight!--and peered at those countless clusters.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Was it the English fleet that was leaving Spain? Whether that was or
-not--whether 'twas in truth the English fleet or not--it <i>was</i> leaving
-Spain; I could understand that. We in our ship were almost stationary;
-that body was rapidly passing out to sea.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What did it mean? Perhaps that the English had done their
-work--destroyed Cadiz. I did not know if such were possible, but
-thought it might be so. Perhaps that the galleons had been on their
-way in, after all, and had been warned of those who were there before
-them, and so had turned tail and fled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet I feared--became maddened and distraught almost at the very
-idea--that, having done their work, my countrymen should have left the
-place, gone out to the open on, perhaps, their way back to England.
-Became maddened because, if such were the case, there was no
-opportunity left me of advising them about the galleons. While, on the
-other hand, if that passing fleet was in truth the galleons, then were
-they saved, since never would they come near the coast of Spain again
-while British ships remained there. Rather would they keep the open
-for months, rather put back again to the Indies than run themselves
-into the lion's jaws.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Truly I was sore distressed in pondering over all this; truly my
-chance of promotion seemed very far off now. Yet I had one
-consolation: I had done my best; it was not my fault.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That night, to make things more unpleasant than they already
-were--and to me it seemed that nothing more was wanting to aid my
-melancholy!--Cuddiford began his drinkings and carousals again,
-shutting off himself with the negro in his cabin, from whence shortly
-issued the sounds of glasses clinking, of snatches of songs--in which
-the black joined--of halloaing and of toasts and other things. Ribald
-bawlings, too, of a song of which I could catch only a few words now
-and again, but which seemed to be about a mouse which had escaped from
-a trap and also from a great fierce cat ready to pounce on it. Then,
-once more, clappings and clinkings of glasses together--an intolerable
-noise, be sure!--and presently, with an oath, confusion drank to
-England.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So,&quot; thinks I, &quot;my gentleman, that is how you feel, is it? Confusion
-to England! Who and what are you, then, in the devil's name? Spy of
-France or Spain, besides being retired filibuster, or what? Confusion
-to England, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And even as I thought this and heard his evil toast, I determined to
-hear more. Whereon I slipped quietly off my bunk, got out into the
-gangway and listened across it to his cabin opposite, feeling very
-sure as I did so that both he and his black imagined I was up on deck.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I heard him say, going on, evidently, with a phrase he had begun:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wherefore, I tell you, my lily, my white pearl, that those accursed
-seamen and soldiers--this Rooke, who chased me once so that I lost
-all my goods in my flight--are tricked, hoodwinked, <i>embustera;
-flanqués comme une centaine d'escargots!</i> Done for--and so is this
-white-livered Englishman over there in t'other cabin--who I do believe
-is an English spy. Ho! that we had him in Maracaibo or Guayaquil.
-Hein! Hey! my snowball?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hoop! Hoop!&quot; grunted the brute, his companion. &quot;Hoop! Maracaibo!
-Hoop! But, but, John&quot;--&quot;John,&quot; thinks I, &quot;and to his master!&quot;--&quot;don't
-speak so loud. Perhaps they hear you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let them hear and be damned to them. What care I?&quot; Yet still he
-lowered his voice, though not so low but what I made out his words:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fitted out a fleet, did they, to intercept the galleons? Oh! the
-beautiful galleons! Oh! the sweet and lovely galleons! Oh, my
-beautiful <i>Neustra Senora de Mercedes</i>. You remember how she sits on
-the water like a swan, Cćsar? And the beautiful <i>Santa Susanna!</i> What
-ships! what lading! Oh! I heard it all in London. I know. Thought they
-would catch 'em in Cadiz, did they? Ha! Very well. Now, see, my lily
-white. They have been too quick; got in too soon--and--and what's the
-end on't? Those are the galleons going out--back again to the sea--and
-the English fleet can stop in Cadiz till the forts sink 'em or they
-rot. Give me some more drink. 'Of all the girls that there can be, the
-Indy girl's the girl for me,'&quot; and he fell a-singing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If he is right, my Lord Marlborough has been deceived,&quot; I whispered
-to myself. &quot;Yet which knows the most? Still this old ruffian must be
-right. Who else could be putting to sea but the galleons?&quot; and I went
-back once more to my cabin to ponder over matters.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now--all in a moment--there arose such an infernal hubbub from
-that other cabin that one might have thought all the fiends from below
-had been suddenly let loose; howls from the negro, so that I thought
-the other must be killing of him in his drunken frenzy; peals of
-laughter from the old man, bangings and kickings of bulkheads and the
-crash of a falling glass. And, in the middle of it all, down ran Tandy
-from the deck above, with, as I thought, a more concerned look upon
-his face than even such an uproar as this called for. Then he made at
-once for the cabin where those two were; yet, even as he advanced
-swiftly, he paused to ask me if I had heard him speak a passing
-picaroon a quarter of an hour back.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not I,&quot; I replied. &quot;Who could hear aught above in such a din as this
-below? What did they tell you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bad! Bad news. But first to quell these brutes,&quot; and he ran on as he
-spoke, and kicked against the fast-closed cabin door.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bad news!&quot; I repeated to myself, even as I followed him. &quot;Bad news.
-My God! the old villain is right and the galleons have escaped.
-Farewell, my hopes of promotion; I may as well get back to the
-regiment by the first chance that comes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now I had to listen to Tandy setting his other passenger to his
-facings, which he did without more ado, since, the cabin door not
-being opened quick enough, he applied his brawny shoulder to it and
-soon forced it to slide back in its frame, the lock being torn out by
-his exertion. Then after a few oaths and curses, which need not be set
-down here, he roared as follows:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See here, you drunken, disreputable old vagabond, out you go from
-this ship to-morrow morning, either ashore in Lagos bay or in the first
-Guarda Costa or sailing smack that comes anigh us carrying the
-Portygee colours. And as for you, you black, shambling brute,&quot; turning
-to the negro and seizing him by the wool, whereby he dragged him into
-the gangway, after which he administered to him a rousing kick, &quot;get
-you forward amongst the men, and, by God! if you come back aft again
-I'll shoot you like a dog.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My friend,&quot; said old Carstairs, speaking now with as much sobriety
-and dignity as though he had been drinking water all these days; &quot;my
-good friend, you forget. I have paid my passage to Cadiz, and to Cadiz
-I will go, or the nearest touching point. Also, there are laws----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There are,&quot; roared Tandy, &quot;and 'twill not suit you to come within a
-hundred leagues of any of them. To-morrow you go ashore.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have business with the in-coming galleons,&quot; said Carstairs, leering
-at him. &quot;Those galleons going out now will come in again, you know.
-Soon!&quot; and still he leered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Galleons, you fool!&quot; replied the captain. &quot;Those are the English
-warships. Your precious galleons may be at the bottom of the ocean.
-Very like are by now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And then that old man's face was a sight to see, as, suddenly, it
-blanched a deathly white.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The English warships,&quot; he murmured. &quot;The English warships,&quot; and then
-fell back gasping to his berth, muttering: &quot;Out here! Out here!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is this true?&quot; I asked him a moment later, as we went along forward
-together. &quot;Is it true?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, partly,&quot; he replied. &quot;Partly. They are the English ships of war,
-but, my lad, I have had news which I did not tell him. They are in
-retreat. Have failed. Cadiz is not taken, and they are on their way
-back to England.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God!&quot; I exclaimed. And I know that as I so spoke I, too, was white
-to the lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;On their way back to England!&quot; I repeated.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay--that's it,&quot; he said.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4>
-
-<h5>GALLEONS ABOUT!</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What's to do now? That's the question,&quot; said Tandy, an hour later, as
-he and I sat in his little cabin abaft the mainmast, while, to hearten
-ourselves up, we sipped together a bottle of Florence wine which he
-had on board, and he sucked at his great pipe. &quot;What now? No use for
-me to think of Cadiz, though what a chance I would have had if our
-countrymen had only made themselves masters of it! And for you, Mr.
-Crespin? For you? I suppose, in truth, you knew of this--had some
-affair of commerce, too, which brought you this way, on the idea that
-they would be sure to capture the place.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, I had some idea,&quot; I answered, moodily, thinking it mattered very
-little what I said now, short of the still great secret that the
-galleons were going into Vigo, and never did mean coming into these
-more southern regions. This secret I still kept, I say--and for one
-reason. It was this, namely, that I thought it very likely that, even
-though the fleet under Rooke might be driven back from Cadiz, they yet
-had a chance of encountering the galleons making their way up to Vigo,
-and, if they did so, I felt very sure that they would attack those
-vessels, even in their own hour of defeat. Therefore, I said nothing
-about the real destination of the Spanish treasure ships, though I
-knew well enough that all hope was gone of my being the fortunate
-individual to put my countrymen on their track.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also, I remembered that that hoary-headed old ruffian, Carstairs, had
-spoken of two at least of those galleons as being of importance to
-him--and you may be sure that I had no intention whatever of
-enlightening him as to anything I knew.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What did the Portuguese picaroon tell you?&quot; I asked of Tandy, now;
-&quot;what information give? And--are they sure of their news?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, very sure,&quot; he answered. &quot;No doubt about that. No doubt whatever
-that we have failed in the attack on Cadiz--abandoned the siege, gone
-home. They were too many for us there, and--'tis not often that it
-happens, God be praised!--we are beaten.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But why so sure? And are they--these Portuguese--to be trusted?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What use to tell lies? They <i>are</i> Portuguese, and would have welcomed
-a victory.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I shrugged my shoulders at this--then asked again what the strength of
-their information was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To which the captain made reply:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They came in, it seems, early in the month, and called on the
-governor to declare for Austria against France, to which he returned
-reply that it was not his custom to desert his king, as many of the
-English were in the habit of doing, he understood; whereon--the Duke
-of Ormond being vexed by such an answer, which, it seems, did reflect
-on him--the siege of Port St. Mary's commenced, the place being taken
-by our people and being found to be full of wealth----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Taken and full of wealth!&quot; I exclaimed. &quot;Yet you say we are
-defeated!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Listen,&quot; went on Tandy, &quot;that was as nothing; for now the German
-Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt, who had come too, in the interests of his
-Austrian master, interfered, begging of Rooke and that other not to
-destroy the town, since it would injure their cause forever with the
-Spaniards, and--and--well, the Portygee captain of that picaroon I
-spoke says that they were only too willing to fall in with his desires
-and retire without making further attempt.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And these are English seamen and soldiers!&quot; I muttered furiously. &quot;My
-God! To turn tail thus!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ormond agreed not with these views, it seems,&quot; Tandy went on, &quot;but he
-could not outweigh the admirals--and that is all I know, except that
-he will perhaps impeach 'em when they get back to England. And,
-anyway, they are gone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And with them,&quot; I thought to myself, &quot;go all my hopes. The galleons
-will get in safe enough; there is nothing for it but to make back for
-Holland and tell the earl that I have failed. No more than that,&quot; and
-my bitterness was great within me at these reflections, you may be
-sure.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Tandy, I doubted not, observed these feelings which possessed me, for
-a minute later he said--while I observed that in a kindly way he
-filled up my glass for me, as I sat brooding with my head upon my
-hands by the side of the cuddy table:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I see this touches you nearly, Mr. Crespin, and am grieved. Yet
-what will you do now? Since you have missed your chance--I know not
-what--will you return with me? If so you are very welcome, and--and,&quot;
-he spoke this with a delicacy I should scarce have looked for, &quot;and
-there will be no--no--passage money needed. <i>La Mouche Noire</i> is at
-your service to Rotterdam, or, for the matter of that, to Deal or
-London, or where you will. I shall but stay to go in to Lagos for wood
-and water, and, perhaps, sell some of my goods, if fortune serves so
-far, and then--why then, 'tis back again to Holland or England to see
-what may be done. I have the passage moneys of you and that old ribald
-aft. For me things might be worse, thank God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At first I knew not what answer to make to this kindly, offer--for
-kindly it was, since there was according to our compact no earthly
-reason whatsoever why he should convey me back again, except as a
-passenger paying highly for the service. In truth, I was so sick and
-hipped at the vanishing of this, my great opportunity, that I had
-recked nothing of what happened now. All I knew was that I had failed;
-that I had missed, although through no fault of mine own, a glorious
-chance. Therefore I said gloomily:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do what you will--I care not. I must get me back to Holland somehow,
-and may as well take passage there with you as go other ways. In truth
-there is none that I know of. Yet, kind as your offer is to convey me
-free of charge, it must not be. I cannot let you be at a loss, and I
-have a sufficiency of money.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! as for that, 'tis nothing. However, we will talk on this later.
-Now let's see for getting into Lagos--there is nothing else to be
-done. 'Specially as I must have wood and water.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he went away to study his chart and compass, while I sought my
-bed again, and, all being perfect silence at this time in Carstairs'
-cabin--doubtless he was quite drunk by now!--I managed to get some
-sleep, though 'twas uneasy at the best.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the morning when I again went on deck I saw that we were in full
-sail, as I had guessed us to be from the motion of the ship while
-dressing myself below; also, a look at the compass box told me we were
-running due north--for Lagos. And, if aught could have cheered the
-heart of a drooping man, it should have been the surroundings of this
-fair, bright morning. It was, I remember well, September 22--the
-glistening sea, looking like a great blue diamond sparkling beneath
-the bright sun, the white spume flung up forward over our bows, the
-equally white sheets above. Also, near us, to add to the beauty of the
-morn, the sea was dotted with a-many small craft, billander rigged,
-their sails a bright scarlet--and these, Tandy told me, were
-Portuguese fishing boats out catching the tunny, which abounds
-hereabout. While, away on our starboard beam, were--I started as I
-looked at them--what were they?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Three great vessels near together, their huge white sails bellied out
-to the breeze, sailing very free; the foam tossed from their stems,
-almost contemptuously, it seemed, so proudly did they dash it away
-from them; vessels full rigged, and tightly, too; vessels along the
-sides of which there ran tier upon tier of gun-ports; vessels also,
-from each of whose mastheads there flew a flag--the flag of England!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What does it mean?&quot; I asked Tandy, who strolled along the poop toward
-me, his face having on it a broad grin, while his eye drooped into
-that wink he used so. &quot;What does it mean? They are our own ships of
-war; surely they are not chasing us!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never fear!&quot; said he. &quot;They are but consorts of ours just now. Oh!
-it's a brave talk we have been having together with the flags this
-morning. They are of the fleet--are Her Majesty's ships <i>Eagle</i>,
-<i>Stirling Castle</i> and <i>Pembroke</i>--and are doing exactly the same as
-ourselves, are going into Lagos for water. Also those transports
-behind,&quot; and he pointed away aft, where half a dozen of those vessels
-were following.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The fleet,&quot; I gasped, &quot;the fleet that has left Cadiz--the great fleet
-under Sir George Rooke--and going into Lagos!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Some of them--those you see now on our beam, and the transports
-coming up.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the others,&quot; I gasped again, overcome by this joyful news, &quot;the
-others? What of them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! they will lie off till these go out with the fresh water casks.
-Then for England.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never,&quot; I said to myself. &quot;Not yet, at least,&quot; and I turned my face
-away so that Tandy should not perceive the emotion which I felt sure
-must be depicted on it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For think, only think, what this meant to England--to me!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It meant that I--the only man in the seas around Spain and Portugal
-who knew of where the galleons would be, or were by now--I who alone
-could tell them, tell this great fleet, which I had but lately missed,
-of the whereabouts of those galleons--had by God's providence come
-into communication with them again; meant that the instant we were in
-Lagos bay I could go aboard one of those great warships and divulge
-all--tell them to make for Vigo, tell them that it was in their power
-to deal so fierce a blow to Spain and France as should cripple them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I could have danced and sung for very joy. I could have flung my arms
-around Tandy's sun-burned and hairy neck in ecstasy, have performed
-any act of craziness which men indulge in when a great happiness falls
-upon them; nay, would have done any deed of folly, but that I was
-restrained by the reflection of how all depended on me now, and of
-how--since I was the bearer of so great a piece of news from so great
-a man as the Earl of Marlborough--it behooved me to act with
-circumspection and decorum. Therefore I calmed myself, instead of
-indulging in any transports whatever. I recollect that I even forced
-myself to make some useless remark upon the beauty of the smiling
-morn; that I said also that I thought <i>La Mouche Noire</i> was making as
-good seaway as the great frigates themselves, then asked coldly and
-indifferently, with the same desire for disguise, when Tandy thought
-we might all be in the bay and at anchorage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He glanced up at the sun--he had a big tortoise-shell watch in his
-pocket, but, sailor-like, never looked at it during the day, and when
-he had the sun for horologe--then leaned over the high gunwale of the
-ship and looked between his hands toward the north, and said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The old castle of Penhas is rising rapidly to view. 'Tis now eight of
-the clock. By midday we shall have dropped anchor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the frigates?&quot; I asked, with a nod toward the queen's great
-ships, which still were on our beam, in the same position to us as
-before.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;About the same. Only they will go in first to make choice of their
-anchorage.&quot; Then he added: &quot;But they will not stay long; no longer
-than to fill the casks. Perhaps a day, or till nightfall.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twill be long enough for me,&quot; I thought. &quot;An hour would suffice to
-get on board one of them, ask to be taken off and sent to the
-admiral's ship to tell my tale. Long enough.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now I went below again--with what different feelings from those
-which possessed me when I went on deck, you may well suppose--and
-began hastily to bestow my necessaries, such as they were, into the
-bag I had carried behind me on my horse from Venloo to Rotterdam: a
-change of linen, some brushes, a sleeping gown and a good cloak,
-carried either around me or the bag, if warm and dry weather, my
-powder flask and a little sack of bullets for my cavalry pistols--that
-was all. Also I counted my pieces, took out my shagreen bill case and
-saw that my Lord Marlborough's money drafts were safe, as well as my
-commission to the regiment, which must now serve as a passport and
-letter of presentation, and I was ready to go ashore at any moment,
-and to transfer myself to one of the ships if they would take me with
-them after I had told my news, as my Lord had said I was to demand
-they should do. Yet, little while enough as I had been a-doing of
-these things, 'twas not so quickly finished but that there was time
-for an interruption; interruption from Mr. Carstairs, who, a moment or
-so after I had been in my cabin, tapped gently, almost furtively, it
-seemed to me, upon the door, and on my bidding him come in--I
-suspecting very well who it was--put his head through the opening he
-had made by pushing it back.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are we in danger?&quot; he asked, while as he spoke, I could not but
-observe that he looked very badly this morning--perhaps from the
-renewals of his drinkings. His face was all puckered and drawn, and
-whiter, it seemed to me, than before; his eyes were hideously
-bloodshot--that must, I guessed, be the drink--while the white, coarse
-hand with which he grasped the panel shook, I observed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Danger!&quot; I repeated coldly, as well as curtly, for, as you may be
-sure, I had come to thoroughly despise, as well as cordially to
-detest, this dissolute old man who, besides, had a black and fearful
-past behind him, if his feverish wanderings of mind were to be
-trusted. &quot;Danger! From what?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There are war frigates by us,&quot; he whispered. &quot;Do you not know?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I know. But you who have been, it seems, a sailor, should also
-know our own flag, I think.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Our own flag! Our English flag!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Can you not see?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are on the other side of the ship. I cannot see aught through my
-port.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look through mine, then,&quot; I answered, pointing to it, and he, with
-many courteous excuses for venturing to intrude--he was much changed
-now, I thought--went over to my window, and gazed at the queen's
-vessels.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;True,&quot; he said. &quot;True. They are English--our--ships. Where could they
-come from, do you suppose?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;From the Cadiz fleet. And they are going into Lagos, as we are.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And then--do you know where to, then--afterward--noble sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then they will go north.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He drew a long breath at this--I guessed it to be a sigh of
-satisfaction at the thought that the English fleet should be going
-north, while the galleons, in which he had seemed to be so concerned,
-should either be going into, or gone into, Cadiz--as he supposed. Then
-he said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, sir, this is, indeed, good news. For--for--I have business at
-Cadiz--very serious business, and--if they had remained here in the
-south they might have done much harm to honest traders, might they
-not? Do you not think so?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They may do harm elsewhere,&quot; I answered, again curtly. And my brevity
-caused him to look at me enquiringly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What harm? What can they do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! as for that,&quot; I said, unable to resist the temptation of repaying
-him somewhat for all the discomfort he had caused in the ship, and
-also because I so much despised him, &quot;as for that, they might do much.
-They say there are some galleons about. Supposing they should meet
-them. 'Tis a great fleet; it could be fateful to a weaker one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Galleons! Galleons about!&quot; he repeated--shrieked, almost. &quot;Nay! Nay!
-Nay! The galleons are safe in Cadiz by now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are they?&quot; I said, shrugging of my shoulders.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are they not?&quot; And now his face was death itself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We spoke a ship last night which did not say so,&quot; I answered. &quot;No
-galleons have passed this way, gone in yet.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I almost regretted my words, seeing, a moment later, their effect on
-him. For that effect was great--I had nigh written terrible.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He staggered back from the port-hole by which he had been standing,
-gazing out at the <i>Pembroke</i> and her consorts, his face waxy now from
-the absence of blood; his lips a bluish purple, so that I could see
-the cracks in them; his coarse white hands twitching; and his eyes
-roving round my cabin lighted on my washing commode, on which stood
-the water ewer; then he seized it and the glass, poured out from one
-to the other--his hand shook so that the neck of the vessel clinked a
-tune upon the rim of the glass--and drank, yet not without some sort
-of a murmured apology for doing so--an apology that became almost a
-whine.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not passed this way--not gone in yet? My God! Where are they?
-And--and--with that fleet here--here--here--'twixt here and Cape St.
-Vincent! Where are they?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Probably coming in now--on their way,&quot; I made answer. &quot;Or very near.&quot;
-Then next said, quietly: &quot;You seem concerned about this?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Concerned!&quot; he wailed. &quot;Concerned! I have my fortune, my all--'tis
-not much, yet much to me--on board two of the galleons, and--and--ah!&quot;
-and he clutched at his ruffled shirt front. &quot;The English fleet is
-there--across their path! My God!&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4>
-
-<h5>LAGOS BAY.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Tandy had timed our arrival in the bay with great exactness, since,
-soon after midday, both the queen's ships and ourselves had dropped
-anchor within it, the former saluting, and being saluted in return, by
-some artillery from the crazy old castle that rose above the shore.
-And now from those three frigates away went pinnaces and jolly boats,
-as well as the great long boats and launches, all in a hurry to
-fetch off the water which they needed, while also I could see very
-well that from the <i>Pembroke</i> they were a-hoisting overboard their
-barge, into which got some of the land officers--as the sailors call
-the soldiers--and also a gentleman in black who was, I supposed, a
-chaplain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And then I considered that it was time for me to be ashore, too, since
-I knew not how long 'twould take for the ships of war to get in what
-they wanted, and to be off and away again; though Tandy told me I need
-be in no manner of hurry, since they had let down what he called their
-shore anchors, which they would not have done had they intended going
-away again in a moment, when they would have used instead their kedge,
-or pilot, anchors.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">However, I was so impatient that I would not be stayed, and
-consequently begged the captain to let me have one of the shore boats,
-which had come out on our arrival and were now all around us, called
-alongside; and into this I jumped the instant it touched our ship. My
-few goods I left on board, to be brought on land when the captain
-himself came, which he intended to do later; nor did I make my
-farewells to him, since I felt pretty sure we should meet again
-shortly, while it was by no means certain that the admiral would take
-me with him, after I had delivered my news; but, instead, might order
-me to return at once to the earl with some reply message. Yet I hoped
-this would not be so, especially since his Lordship had bidden me see
-the thing out and then bring him, as fast as I could make my way back
-to the Netherlands, my account of what had been done.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As for that miserable old creature, Carstairs, I clean forgot all
-about him; nor even if I had remembered his existence, should I have
-troubled to pay him any adieux, for in truth, I never supposed that I
-should see him again in this world, and for certain, I had no desire
-to do so; yet as luck would have it--but there is no need to
-anticipate.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I jumped into the shore boat, I say, as soon as it came alongside <i>La
-Mouche Noire</i>, and was quickly rowed into the port, observing as I
-went that there was a considerable amount of craft moored in the bay,
-many of which had doubtless run in there during the storms of a night
-or two ago, while, also, there were some sheltering in it which would
-possibly have been lying in other harbors now--and those, Spanish
-ones--had it not been for the war and the consequent danger of attack
-from the English and Dutch navies in any other waters than those of
-Portugal, she being, as I have said, neutral at present, though
-leaning to our--the allies'--side. To wit, there were at this moment
-some German ships, also a Dane or two, a Dutchman and a Swedish bark
-here.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now I stepped ashore on Portuguese ground, and found myself
-torn hither and thither by the most ragged and disorderly crowd of
-beggars one could imagine, some of them endeavouring to drag me off to
-a dirty inn at the waterside, in front of which there sat two priests
-a-drinking with some scaramouches, whom I took to be Algarvian
-soldiers, while others around me had, I did believe, serious
-intentions on my pockets had I not kept my hands tight in them.
-Also--which hearted me up to see--there were many of our English
-sailors about, dressed in their red kersey breeches with white tin
-buttons, and their grey jackets and Welsh kersey waistcoats, all of
-whom were bawling and halloaing to one another--making the confusion
-and noise worse confounded--and using fierce oaths in the greatest
-good humour. And then, while I stood there wondering how I should find
-those whom I sought for, I heard a voice behind me saying in cheery
-tones in my own tongue:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Faith, Tom, 'tis an Englishman, I tell you. No doubt about that. Look
-to his rig; observe also he can scarce speak a word more of the
-language of the country he is in than we can ourselves. Does not that
-proclaim him one of us? Except our beloved friends, the French, who
-are as ignorant of other tongues as we are, we are the worst. Let's
-board him--we are all in the same boat.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, knowing very well that these remarks could hardly be applied to
-any one but me, I turned round and found close to my elbow a fat,
-jolly-looking gentleman, all clad in black, and with a black scarf
-slung across him, and wearing a tie-wig, which had not been powdered
-for many a day--a gentleman with an extremely red face, much pitted
-with the small-pox. And by his side there stood four or five other
-gentlemen, who, 'twas easy to see at a glance, were of my own
-trade--their gold laced scarlet coats, the aiguillettes of one, the
-cockades in all their hats, showed that.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir,&quot; said the one who had spoken, taking off his own black hat,
-which, like his wig, would have been the better for some attention,
-and bowing low. &quot;I fear you overheard me. Yet I meant no offense. And,
-since I am very sure that you are of our country, there should be
-none. Sir, I am, if you will allow me to present myself, Mr. Beauvoir,
-chaplain of her Majesty's ship, <i>Pembroke</i>. These are my friends,
-officers serving under his Grace of Ormond, and of my Lord Shannon's
-grenadiers and Colonel Pierce's regiment&quot;; whereon he again took off
-his hat to me, in which polite salutation he was followed by the
-others, while I returned the courtesy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now I knew that I had found what I wanted--knew that the road was
-open to me to reach the admiral, to tell my tale. I had found those
-who could bring me into communication with the fleet; be very sure I
-should not lose sight of them now. But first I had to name myself,
-wherefore I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Gentlemen, I am truly charmed to see you. Let me in turn present
-myself. My name is Mervyn Crespin, lieutenant in the Cuirassiers, or
-Fourth Horse, and it is by God's special grace that I have been so
-fortunate as to encounter you. For,&quot; and here I glanced round at the
-filthy crowd which environed us, and lowered my voice a little, &quot;I am
-here on a special mission to your commander from my Lord Marlborough.
-Yet I thought I had failed when I heard you were off and away from
-Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, when I mentioned the position which I held in the army all looked
-with increased interest at me, and again took off their hats, while
-when I went on to speak of my mission from the Earl of Marlborough
-there came almost a dazed look into some of their faces, as though
-'twas impossible for them to understand what the Captain-General of
-the Netherlands could have to say with the fleet that had been sent
-forth from England to Cadiz.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A message to our commander,&quot; Mr. Beauvoir said. &quot;A message to our
-commander. By the Lord Harry, I am afraid 'tis even now a bootless
-quest, though. Our commander with all his fleet is on his way back to
-England--and pretty well dashed, too, through being obliged to draw
-off from Cadiz, I can tell you. I fear you will not see him this side
-of Spithead, even if you go with us, who are about to follow him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That I was also &quot;pretty well dashed&quot; at this news needs no telling,
-since my feelings may be well enough conceived; yet I plucked up heart
-to say:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do think, if your captain but hears the news I bring, that he will
-endeavour to catch the fleet and turn it from its homeward course--ay,
-even though he sets sail again to-night without so much as a drop of
-fresh water in his casks. 'Tis great news--news that may do much to
-cripple France.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is it private, sir?&quot; the chaplain asked. &quot;For the ears of the
-admirals alone?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; said I; &quot;by no means private from English ears; yet,&quot; I
-continued, with still another glance around, &quot;not to be spoken openly.
-Is there no room we can adjourn to?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We have been trying ourselves for half an hour to find an inn,&quot; said
-one of the grenadiers, with a laugh, &quot;which swarms not with vermin of
-all sorts. Yet, come, let us endeavour again. Even though there is
-naught for gentlemen to eat or drink, we may, at least, be alone and
-hear this news. Come, let us seek for some spot,&quot; and he elbowed his
-way through the waterside crowd which still stood gaping round us, and
-which, even when we all moved away, hung on our heels, staring at us
-as though we were some strange beings from another world. Also,
-perhaps, they thought to filch some scrap of lace or galloon from off
-our clothes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Away, vagabonds! What in heaven's name is Portuguese for 'away,
-vagabonds'?&quot; muttered Mr. Beauvoir, making signs to the beggarly
-brood, who--perhaps because often our ships put in here for water, and
-they were accustomed to seeing the English--held out their dirty,
-claw-like hands, and shrieked: &quot;Moaney! Moaney! Englase moaney!&quot;
-&quot;Away, I say, and leave us in peace!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And gradually, seeing there was nothing more to be gotten after one or
-two of us had flung them a coin or so, they left us to our devices, so
-that we were able to stroll along the few miserable streets which the
-town possessed; able to observe, also, that there was no decent inn
-into which a person, who valued his future comfort and freedom from a
-month or so of itching, could put his foot in safety.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now we reached a little open spot, or <i>plaza</i>, a place which had a
-melancholy, deserted look--there being several empty houses in this
-gloomy square--while, on another, we saw the arms of France stuck up,
-a shield with a blazing sun upon it,--the emblem of Louis!--and the
-lilies on it, also--and guessed it must be the consul's place
-of business. And here it seemed to me as if this was as
-fitting an opportunity as I should find for making the necessary
-disclosures--disclosures which, when these gentlemen had heard them,
-might induce them to hurry back to the <i>Pembroke</i>, bring me into
-communication with the captain, and lead him to put to sea, in the
-hopes of picking up the remainder, and chief part, of the English
-fleet, which was but twenty-four hours ahead of them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Gentlemen,&quot; I said, &quot;here is a quiet spot&quot;--as indeed it was, seeing
-that there was nothing alive in this mournful <i>plaza</i> but a few
-scraggy fowls pecking among the stones, and a lean dog or two sleeping
-in the sun. &quot;Let me tell you my news.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whereupon all of them halted and stood round me, listening eagerly
-while I unfolded my story and gave them the intelligence that the
-galleons had gone into Vigo, escorted, as the earl had said while we
-rode toward Rotterdam, by a large French fleet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Fore George, Harry,&quot; said Mr. Beauvoir, turning toward the elder of
-the officers with him, a captain in Pierce's regiment, &quot;but this is
-mighty fine news. Only--can it be true? I mean,&quot; he went on with a
-pleasant bow to me, &quot;can it be possible that the Earl of Marlborough
-is not mistaken? For, if 'tis true and we can only communicate with
-Sir George Rooke and get him back again, 'twill be a fine thing; wipe
-out the scandal and hubbub that will arise over our retreat from
-Cadiz, go far to save Parliament enquiries and the Lord knows what--to
-say nothing of court martials. Humph?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why should the earl be mistaken in this?&quot; asked one of the others. &quot;At
-least he was right in judging they would not go into Cadiz.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We must take you at once to Captain Hardy, of our ship,&quot; said the
-chaplain. &quot;'Tis for him to decide when he has heard your story. Come,
-let us get back to the pinnace--no time must be wasted.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;With the very greatest will in the world,&quot; said I. &quot;'Tis for that I
-have travelled from Holland, and, pray God, I have not come too late.
-Success means much for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then we turned to go, while the officers attacked me on all sides for
-an account of the siege of Kaiserswerth, of which they had not yet
-heard full accounts, and we were just leaving the square when there
-appeared at the door of the French consul's house a man who, no sooner
-did he observe us and our English appearance--which betrays us all
-over Europe, I have noticed, though I know not why--and also the
-brilliancy of the officers' dress, than he set to work bowing and
-grimacing like a monkey; also he began calling out salutations to us
-in French, and asking us how the English did now in the wars? and
-saying that, for himself, he very much regretted that France and
-England had got flying at one another's throats once more, since if
-they were not fools and would only keep united, as they had been in
-the days of him whom he called <i>le grand roi Charles Deux</i>, they might
-rule the world between them; which was true enough as regarded their
-united powers (if not the greatness of that late king of ours), as
-many other people more sensible than he have thought.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis a merry heart,&quot; said Mr. Beauvoir, smiling on the fantastic
-creature as he gibbered and jumped about on his doorstep, while the
-others looked contemptuously at him, for we soldiers had but a poor
-opinion of the French, though always pleased to fight them; &quot;a joyous
-blade! Let us return his civility&quot;; whereupon he took off his hat,
-which courtesy we all imitated, and wished him &quot;Good day&quot; politely in
-his own language.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ha! you speak French, monsieur,&quot; the other said at this; &quot;also you
-have the <i>bonne mine</i>. English gentlemens is always gentlemens. Ha! I
-ver' please see you.&quot;--he was himself now speaking half English and
-half French. &quot;<i>Je vous salue</i>. Lagos ver' <i>triste</i>. I always glad see
-gentlemens. <i>Veuillez un verre de vin? C'est Français, vrai Français!</i>
-Ver' goot.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis tempting,&quot; said the chaplain of the Pembroke, his face appearing
-to get more red than before at the invitation. &quot;Well, we can do no
-harm in having a crack with him. Only--silence, remember,&quot; and he
-glanced at the officers. &quot;Not a word of our doings--lately, now, or to
-come.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never fear,&quot; said the eldest. &quot;We can play a better game than that
-would be,&quot; whereon the chaplain, after bowing gracefully to our
-would-be host, said in very fair French that, if he desired it, we
-would all drink a glass of wine with him--only he feared we were too
-many.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not a jot, not a jot,&quot; this strange creature cried, beckoning all of
-us into the house and forthwith leading us into a whitewashed room, in
-the middle of which was a table with, upon it, a great outre of wine,
-bound and supported by copper bands and flanked with a number of
-glasses, so that one might have thought he was ever offering
-entertainment to others. Then, with great dexterity, he filled the
-requisite number of glasses, and, after making us each touch his with
-ours, drank a toast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>A la fin de la guerre</i>,&quot; he said, after screaming, first,
-&quot;<i>Attention, messieurs</i>,&quot; and rapping on the table with his glass to
-claim that attention, &quot;<i>ŕ l'amitié incassable de la France et de
-l'Angleterre. Vivent, vivent, vivent la France et l'Angleterre</i>,&quot; and
-down his throat went all the wine.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A noble toast,&quot; said Mr. Beauvoir, with a gravity which--I know not
-why!--I did not think, somehow, was his natural attribute, &quot;a noble
-toast. None--be he French or English--could refuse to pledge that,&quot;
-and, with a look at the others, away went his liquor, too, while my
-brother officers, with a queer look upon their faces, which seemed to
-express the thought that they scarce knew whether they ought to be
-carousing in this manner with the representative of an enemy,
-swallowed theirs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ha! goot, ver' goot,&quot; our friend went on, &quot;we will have some more.&quot;
-And in a twinkling he had replenished the glasses and got his own up
-to, or very near to, his lips. And catching a glance of Mr. Beauvoir's
-grey eye as he did this, I felt very sure that the reverend gentleman
-knew as well as I did, or suspected as well as I did, that these were
-by no means the first potations our friend had been indulging in this
-morning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Another toast,&quot; he cried now, &quot;<i>sacré nom d'un chien!</i> we will drink
-more toasts. <i>A la santé</i>&quot;--then paused, and muttered: &quot;No, no. I
-cannot propose that. No. <i>Ce n'est pas juste</i>.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is not just, monsieur?&quot; asked Mr. Beauvoir, pausing with his own
-uplifted glass.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, <i>figurez-vous</i>, I was going to commit an <i>impolitesse</i>--what you
-call a <i>rudesse</i>--rudeness--in your English tongue. To propose the
-continued prosperity of France--no! <i>vraiment il ne faut pas ça</i>.
-Because you are my guests--I love the English gentlemens always--and
-it is so certain--so very certain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The continued success of France is very certain, monsieur?&quot; said one
-of the grenadiers, looking darkly at him. &quot;You say that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Sans doute</i>. It cannot be otherwise. On sea and land we must triumph
-now--and then--then we shall have <i>la paix incassable</i>. Oh! yes, now
-that Chateaurenault is on the seas, we must perforce win there--win
-every--everything. And for the land, why----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Chateaurenault is on the seas!&quot; exclaimed the chaplain, looking very
-grave. &quot;And how long has that been, monsieur?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, some time, some time.&quot; Then he put his finger to his nose and
-said, looking extremely cunning in his half drunkenness. &quot;And soon now
-he will be free to scour them, turn his attention to you and the
-Dutch--curse the Dutch always, they are <i>cochons!</i>--soon, ver' soon.
-Just as soon as the galleons are unloaded at Vigo--when we need
-protect them no more.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Swift as lightning all our eyes met as the good-natured sot said this
-in his boastfulness; then Mr. Beauvoir, speaking calmly again, said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So he is protecting them at Vigo, eh? 'Tis not often they unload
-there.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Ah, non, non</i>. Not ver' often. But, you see, you had closed Cadiz
-against them, so, <i>naturellement</i>, they must go in somewhere.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Naturally. No--not another drop of wine, I thank you.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>ON BOARD H. M. S. PEMBROKE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">A good snoring breeze was ripping us along parallel with the
-Portuguese coast a fortnight later, every rag of canvas being
-stretched aloft--foretop gallant royals, mizzentop gallant royals and
-royal staysails. For we had found the main body of the fleet at last,
-after eleven days' search for them, and we were on the road to Vigo.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Only, should we be too late when we got there? That was the question!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Let me take up my tale where I left off. Time enough to record our
-hopes and fears when that is told.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Our French friend, whose boastfulness had increased with every drop of
-Montrâchet he swallowed (and 'twas real good wine, vastly different,
-the chaplain, who boasted himself a fancier, said afterward, from the
-filthy concoctions to be obtained in that part of Portugal), had been
-unable to hold his tongue, having got upon the subject of the
-greatness of his beloved France, and the consequence was that every
-word he let fall served but to corroborate the Earl of Marlborough's
-information and my statement. Nay! by the time he allowed us to quit
-his house, which was not for half an hour after he had first divulged
-the neighborhood of Chateaurenault and the galleons, and during which
-period he drank even more fast and furious than before, he had given
-us still further information. For, indeed, it seemed that once this
-poor fool's tongue was unloosed, there were no bounds to his vaunts
-and glorifications, and had it not been that he was our host and,
-also, that every word he said was of the greatest value to us, I do,
-indeed, believe that one or other of the officers would have twisted
-his neck for him, so exasperating was his bragging.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Pauvre Angleterre! Pauvre Angleterre!</i>&quot; he called out, after we had
-refused to drink any more, though he himself still kept on
-unceasingly; &quot;Poor England. Ah, mon Dieu, what shall become of her!
-Beaten at Cadiz----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Retired from Cadiz, if you please, monsieur,&quot; one of Pierce's
-officers said sternly, &quot;because the Dutch ships had runout of
-provisions, and because, also, the admiral and his Grace could not
-hope to win Spain to the cause of Austria by bombarding their towns
-and invading their country. Remember that, sir, if you please.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Oh, la la! C'est la męme chose</i>. It matters not.&quot; Then the talkative
-idiot went on: &quot;I hope only that the fleet is safe in England by now.
-Ver' safe, because otherwise----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have no fear, sir,&quot; the officer said again, though at a sign from Mr.
-Beauvoir, he held his peace and allowed the Frenchman to proceed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ver' safe, because, otherwise, Chateaurenault will soon catch
-them--poof! like a mouse in grimalkin's claws. The <i>débarquement</i> must
-be over by now--oh yes, over by now!--<i>l'amiral</i> will be free to roam
-the seas with his great fleet. <i>Tiens! c'est énorme!</i> There is, for
-instance, <i>La Sirčne, L'Espérance, La Superbe, Le Bourbon,
-L'Enflame</i>--all terrible vessels. Also many more. <i>Le Solide, Le Fort,
-Le Prompte--Fichtre!</i> I cannot recall their names--they are fifteen in
-all. What can you do against that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What did we do at La Hogue?&quot; asked Mr. Beauvoir quietly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ha! La Hogue! <i>Voilŕ--faute de bassesse--faute de</i>----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir,&quot; said the chaplain, interrupting, &quot;let us discourse no more on
-this subject. If we do we shall but get to quarrelling---and you have
-been polite and hospitable. We would not desire that to happen. Sir,
-we are obliged to you,&quot; and he held out his hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The strange creature took it--he took all our hands and shook them; he
-even seemed about to weep a little at our departure, and muttered that
-Lagos was &quot;ver' triste.&quot; He loved to see any one, even though a
-misguided enemy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And,&quot; said Mr. Beauvoir, as we made our way down to the quay where
-the pinnace was to take them off, &quot;to chatter to them as well as see
-them. Forgive him, Lord, he is a madman! Yet, I think,&quot; turning to me,
-&quot;you should be satisfied. He corroborates you, and he has told us
-something worth knowing. Fifteen ships of war in all, eh?&quot; whereon he
-fell a-musing. &quot;A great fleet, in truth; yet ours is larger and we are
-English. That counts.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It took us a very little while to fetch off to the <i>Pembroke</i>, and on
-arriving on board, Mr. Beauvoir instantly sent to know if he could see
-the captain, since he brought great news from the shore. The sentry
-would not, however, by any means undertake to deliver the message,
-since Captain Hardy was now abed, he having been on the poop all night
-while the ships were coming in; whereupon Mr. Beauvoir, saying that
-the business we were now on took precedence of sleep and rest, pushed
-his way into the great cabin and instantly knocked at the door outside
-the captain's berth. Also, he called to him to say that he had news of
-the galleons and the French admiral's fleet, and that there waited by
-his side an officer of the land forces charged with a message to him
-from the Earl of Marlborough.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What!&quot; called out the captain as we heard him slip his door open,
-after hearing also a bound as he leaped from his bunk to the floor.
-&quot;What!&quot; and a minute after he stood before us, a fine, brave-seeming
-gentleman, without his coat or vest on.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What! News of the galleons! Are you the messenger, sir?&quot; looking at
-me and returning my salute. &quot;Quick! Your news; in as few words as may
-be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And in a few words I told him all while he stood there before me, the
-chaplain supplementing of my remarks in equally few words by a
-description of what the drunken French consul had maundered on about
-in his boastings.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And the actions of this captain showed me at once that I was before
-one of those sea commanders who, by their daring and decision, had
-done so much to make our power on the ocean feared, notwithstanding
-any checks such as that of Cadiz, which they might now and again have
-to submit to.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sentry!&quot; he called out, running into his cabin to strike upon a gong
-by his bedside at the same time. &quot;Sentry!&quot; And then, when the man
-appeared, went on: &quot;Send the yeoman of the signals to me at once. Away
-with you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Make signal,&quot; he said to the lad, who soon came tumbling down the
-companion ladder, his glass under his arm, &quot;to Captain Wishart in the
-<i>Eagle</i>, and all the captains in the squadron, to repair here for
-consultation without loss of time. Up! and waste no moment.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And sure enough--for in Her Majesty's navy they are as prompt as we of
-the sister service, if not prompter, since to a sailor, minutes are
-sometimes of as much importance as an hour on land--ere a quarter of
-an hour had passed the waters of the harbour were dotted with the
-barges of the other captains making for our ship, and, five minutes
-after that, all were assembled in the great cabin listening to my
-tale. And all were at once agreed on what must be a-doing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis of vast importance,&quot; said Captain Wishart, who I think was the
-senior, since he presided, &quot;that the admiral be acquainted with this.
-'Tis for him to decide what shall be done when he has heard the
-mission on which this officer has come, and heard also the words of
-the Frenchman. Now, who has the fastest sailer? You, I think, Hardy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;True enough,&quot; replied that captain, &quot;as to speed, I can sail two feet
-to every one of all the rest. Yet the head of the ship is somewhat
-loose, which may endanger the masts; she is also leaky, and our food
-is short. Nevertheless, since the intelligence has been by good luck
-brought to my hands I am loth indeed to resign the honor of finding
-Sir George.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor shall you resign it,&quot; exclaimed the other captains. &quot;The chance
-is yours. Succeed in it and you will get your flag. Hardy, you must
-take it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Enough that I say he took it--had he not done so he would not have
-been worth one of his ship's biscuits, the cases of which were, as it
-happened, now running extremely low. Took it, too, in spite of the
-murmurings of some of his men, who said that they had signed for the
-expedition to Cadiz, and for that alone, and, therefore, it was
-plainly his duty to return to England. But Captain Hardy had a short
-way with such as these--a way well enough known to sailors!--while to
-others, with whom he thought it worth while to explain at all, he
-pointed out that there must be in the galleons, if they could only get
-alongside of them, sufficient prize money for all.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Off we went, therefore, to find the admiral and the main body of the
-fleet, while, as luck would have it, there blew from off the
-Portuguese coast a soft, brisk wind which took us along on the course
-we desired, namely, that in which we supposed and hoped that Sir
-George Rooke and the Dutch fleet had gone. All the same, it was no
-very pleasant cruise; the food ran lower and lower as day after day
-passed and we could not see so much as a topsail anywhere, until at
-last we came to two biscuits a day, officers and men. Then, to make
-matters worse, the weather came on rough and boisterous, so that the
-captain said for sure the fleet would separate; that though we might
-find one or two of the number 'twas scarce likely we should find more,
-and that even those which we might by chance come across would
-possibly not have the <i>Royal Sovereign</i>, which was Rooke's ship,
-amongst them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Briefly, however, we did find them after eleven days, and when we had
-begun to give up all hope, and while another terrible fear had taken
-possession of our minds--the fear that even should we come together
-and proceed to Vigo, we might find the galleons unloaded and their
-treasure removed inland. However, as I have now to tell--and, indeed,
-as you have read of late in the published accounts of our attack upon
-those galleons--that was not to be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We found, therefore--to hurry on--the two fleets very close to one
-another, and no sooner had Sir George communicated the news to the
-Dutch admiral, Vandergoes, and to the Duke of Ormond, than it was
-determined to at once proceed on the way to Vigo to see if the
-galleons were there, and if--above all things--they still had their
-goods in them; for, though 'twas like enough that we should destroy
-them if we could, and crush Chateaurenault as well, 'twould be but
-half a victory if we could not wrench away the spoils from the enemy
-and profit by it ourselves.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now off went two frigates to scout in the neighbourhood of the Bay
-of Vigo and see how much truth there was in the information my Lord
-Marlborough had sent; and on the night of October 9, to which we had
-come by this time, they returned; returned with the joyful
-intelligence that the treasure ships were drawn up as far as possible
-in a narrow strait in the harbour; that outside and guarding them,
-were some twenty French and Spanish ships of war, and that across the
-harbour was stretched a huge boom of masts and spars, protected on
-either side by great batteries of cannon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also they brought another piece of good news: The galleons, they
-thought, were still <i>unloaded</i>.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And still another piece of intelligence, equally welcome: The frigates
-had sighted Sir Cloudesley Shovel's fleet in the neighbourhood of Cape
-Finisterre, had communicated with him, and brought back word that as
-we drew near to Vigo he would combine with us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That night we kept high revels on board all our ships--those only
-whose duty it was to take the watches being prevented from joining in
-the delirium of joy. Casks were broached and healths were drunk,
-suppers eaten joyously--we of the <i>Pembroke</i> having now all we could
-desire given us from our consorts--songs sung. And, if there was one
-who more than others was the hero of the evening, it was the simple
-gentleman who had brought the first intimation of the whereabouts of
-those whom we now meant to &quot;burn, plunder, and destroy,&quot; as the old
-naval motto runs; the man who now pens these lines--myself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Perhaps 'twas no very good preparation for a great fight that, on the
-night before the day when we hoped to be gripping French and Spaniards
-by the throat, blowing up, burning or sinking their ships, and seizing
-their treasures, we should have been wassailing and carousing deeply
-all through that night. Yet, remember, we were sailors and soldiers;
-we were bent on an errand of destruction against the tyrant who had
-crushed and frighted all Europe for now nigh sixty years; the splendid
-despot who, but a few months ago, had acknowledged as King of England
-one whom every Englishman had sworn deeply should never sit on
-England's throne, nor inherit the crown of his ancestors--if, indeed,
-the Stuarts were the ancestors of the youth whom the late James called
-his son.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For this remembrance we may be forgiven--forgiven for hating Louis and
-all his brood--hating him, the tyrant of Versailles, and the fat
-booby, his grandson, who aspired to grasp the throne of Spain by the
-help of Versailles and its master, that great, evil King of France!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Through that night, I say, we drank and caroused, called toasts to our
-good queen, prayed God that we might do her credit on the morrow, and
-exalt the name of great Anna? And even the watch, coming off duty in
-turns, ran into the main cabin ere they sought their berths, seized
-cans and cannikins brimming high, and drank her health and that of our
-own dear land.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas a great night, yet it came to an end at last, and the autumn
-morning dawned, thick, hazy, damp--still, not so thick or hazy but
-that we could see through it the mountains over and around Vigo
-looming up, and, at their feet, the entrance to the bay.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also, we saw, away to the northwest, the fleet of Sir Cloudesley
-Shovel coming up toward us, escorted and led by our scouts.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE TAKING OF THE GALLEONS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Looking back upon that great day--it was October 11--it seems to me
-that many of the events which happened must have been due to the mercy
-and goodness of God, so incredible were they.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For see now what fell out at the very first, namely, that the haze and
-mist were so thick that we were enabled to anchor at the mouth of the
-great river and harbour without so much as even our presence being
-known, so that when the sun set and the fog lifted, the surprise of
-those snared and trapped creatures was great, and they at once began
-firing wildly upon us, without, however, doing any harm whatever. But
-the lifting of that fog showed us what we had to encounter, the work
-that was to be done.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For, first, it enabled us to see that, across the river, or narrow
-strait, as indeed it was, the French admiral had laid a tremendous
-boom, made up of cables, yards and masts, topchains and casts, some
-nine feet in circumference, while the whole was kept fixed and steady
-by anchors at either side. This, too, we perceived, was constructed
-between two forts known as the Ronde and the Noot, one on the left
-bank and the other on the right, while far up the harbour, where we
-saw the galleons all a-lying tucked in comfortably under the cliffs,
-with a line of French ships of battle, and some Spanish ones, ahead of
-and guarding them, we perceived a great fort, which is known as the
-Fort of Redondella.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now the night came down upon us, and we knew that for this day
-there would be no fighting, though, since all through it the admiral
-went from ship to ship in his barge, giving orders, 'twas very certain
-that at daybreak it would begin.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And so it did, as now I have to describe.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For on the morrow, and when, as near six o'clock as may be, the sun
-came up swiftly over the great hills, or mountains, which abound here,
-we made our first preparations for the attack by the landing of the
-Duke of Ormond with two thousand five hundred and fifty men on the
-side of the Fort Redondella, they marching at once toward it on foot.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As for myself, although a soldier, it had been decided that I should
-remain in the <i>Pembroke</i>, and this for more than one reason.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have,&quot; said Captain Hardy to me, &quot;no uniform with you; therefore,
-if you fall into the hands of those on shore it may go hard with you.
-Yet here you can be of service; help train a gun, if need be, issue
-orders, take part in the boarding, which must surely occur, perhaps
-take part in sacking of the galleons. There's business for you--such,
-indeed as, as a soldier, you are not very like to ever see again. My
-lad!&quot; he went on--and in truth I was a lad to him, though I esteemed
-myself a very full-fledged man--&quot;you are to be congratulated. You
-will have much to talk about in years to come--if you survive this
-day--which falls not often to a landsman's lot,&quot; and he ran away as
-gay as a lad himself, all grizzled with service though he was, to
-prepare for assisting in breaking the boom.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So I stayed in the <i>Pembroke</i> and, as you shall see, if you do but
-read, the doing so led to all that happened to me which I have now to
-set down, and all of which--had it not so happened--would have
-prevented this narrative from ever being penned, since it is not to
-describe only the siege of Vigo and the taking of the Spanish galleons
-that I am a-writing of this story.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Therefore I proceed:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Down from the hills already the smoke was rolling fast, obscuring
-the beauteous morn by now; white smoke from the cannon in the
-fort--through which there leapt every moment great spits of flame from
-the big guns' mouths!--dun-coloured smoke from the grenades carried by
-Lord Shannon and Colonel Pierce's grenadiers; black, greasy smoke
-vomited forth from the fuzees. And it came down to the water and
-poured across it in clouds, enveloping the galleons in its wreaths and
-the great French ships of battle; clinging around our own topsails and
-masts, almost obscuring each of our vessels from the other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet not so much, neither, but that--a breeze having sprung up after a
-calm which had enforced us to drop our anchors for a while--we,
-of the <i>Pembroke</i>, could see glide by us a great ship, with her men on
-yards and masts and in fighting tops, all cheering lustily, and some
-a-singing--a vessel that rushed forward as a tiger rushes to its prey.
-At first we thought it was the <i>Royal Sovereign</i>--that great, noble
-ship which transmits a name down from Bluff Harry's days--then knew we
-were mistaken. It was the <i>Torbay</i>, Vice-Admiral Hopson's own, in
-which he flew his flag, her sails all clapt on, her cable training at
-her side, where he had cut it, so as to lose no precious time, her
-course direct for the boom. And after her went ourselves, as hound let
-loose from leash follows hound. Captain Hardy had spoken true--'twas a
-day not to be missed!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We heard a snapping, a crashing--'twas awful, too, to hear!--we heard
-roar upon roar from hundreds of lusty throats in that great ship--we
-knew the boom was gone--cut through as a woodsman's axe cuts through a
-sapling. Amidst all the enemy's fire--fire from the French ships and
-those Spanish forts on shore--we heard it. And we, too, cheered and
-shouted--sent up our queen's name to the smoke-obscured heavens above.
-Some cried the old watchword of past days, &quot;St. George and England&quot;;
-some even danced and jumped upon the decks for glee--danced and
-jumped, even though the hail of ball was scattering us like ninepins,
-or a hundred pins!--even though some lay writhing on those decks, and
-some were lying there headless, armless, legless! What mattered? The
-enemy were there behind that boom, and it was broken. We were amongst
-them now. Let those die who must; those live who were to conquer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Between the <i>Bourbon</i> and <i>L'Espérance</i> the noble <i>Torbay</i> rushed--to
-the jaws of death she went, as though to a summer cruise on friendly
-seas, her anchor cables roared through her hawse-holes--Hopson had
-anchored 'twixt those two great French ships! He was there; there was
-to be, could be, no retreat now; 'twas death or victory.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At first it seemed as though it could alone be the first. The cannon
-grinned like teeth through tier upon tier of gunboats in the
-Frenchman's sides; the balls crashed into the Torbay; they did the
-same with us and Vandergoes' ship, now ranged on the other side of the
-<i>Bourbon</i>--a French fireship had clapt alongside of her, and set her
-rigging alight; her foretopmast went by the board; her sails were all
-aflame; her foreyard burnt like a dry log; her larboard shrouds burnt
-at the dead-eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet still she fought and fought--vomited forth her own flames and
-destruction; still from the throats of those left alive came shouts of
-savage exultation, for, all afire as she was, we saw that she was
-winning. And not only she, but all of us. We had sunk one Frenchman
-ourselves. Vandergoes had mastered the <i>Bourbon</i>--she was done for!
-The <i>Association</i> had silenced a battery ashore. And now a greater
-thing than all happened--Chateaurenault saw that he was beaten, set
-his flagship, <i>Le Fort</i>, on fire, and fled to the shore, calling on
-all his captains to follow him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet still one awful dread remained! The <i>Torbay</i> was burning
-fiercely, charred masts and yards were falling to the deck--itself
-aflame--blocks burning like tarred wood crashed down, too. What if her
-powder magazine exploded! If it did, all in her neighbourhood would be
-destroyed, hurled to atoms, as she herself would be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Almost it seemed as if that had happened now. There came a hideous
-roar, a belch of black, suffocating smoke; it set all sneezing and
-coughing as though a sulphur mine were afire. Yet that explosion, that
-great cloud of filthy blackness, those masses of burnt and charred
-wood hurled up into the air and falling with a crash on every deck
-around, amidst shrieks and howls and curses terrible to hear, though
-drowned somewhat by the booming of the cannon all about, was to be the
-salvation of the <i>Torbay</i>, of ourselves, and of the Dutchmen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For it was the fireship itself that had exploded. It was, in truth, a
-merchantman laden with snuff, which had been hastily fitted up as one
-of those craft. And in so doing the density of the fumes which it
-emitted, and its falling <i>débris</i> when it was burst asunder, helped to
-put out the flames that raged in the <i>Torbay</i> and in us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The firing began to cease even as this happened; the enemy began to
-recognise that 'twas useless. They would have been blind not to have
-so recognised. On shore 'twas easy <i>Association</i>; on the water the
-<i>Bourbon</i> was ours. The lilies were hauled down, in their place
-floated the banner of England; the fireship had vanished into the
-elements, the great boom lay in pieces on the water like some long,
-severed snake. Yet might one have wept to gaze upon the <i>Torbay</i>--the
-queen and victress of this fight--and upon ourselves.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There she lay--Hopson by now in the <i>Monmouth</i>, to which he had been
-forced to transfer his flag, so sad a ruin was she--listing over to
-her wounded starboard side, into which the water poured in volumes, it
-becoming tinged as it mixed with the blood in her scuppers; her yards
-and masts were charred sticks; black bits of sooty, greasy matter,
-which had once been her white sails, floated down slowly to the waves
-and fell upon and dissolved into them. Also her shrouds were but burnt
-pieces of rope and twine now. Upon her deck there were stretched a
-hundred and twenty men, dead or dying. And with the <i>Pembroke</i> it was
-almost as bad. We were shattered and bruised, our foremast gone, our
-own sails shot through and through, and hanging over the sides like
-winding sheets, our own decks charnel houses. Yet we had won the
-fight, the day was ours, the galleons our booty.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But were they? That was the question!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas true, they were all as we had first seen them, though some, we
-noticed, had been run ashore, perhaps to give them a chance of
-hurriedly landing some of their cargo; but, alas! we noticed now that
-they were all aflame, were burning fiercely.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And we knew well enough what this meant--meant that the French and
-Spaniards had set them on fire so that we should benefit nothing
-through their falling into our hands. And all of us saw it at the same
-time--Rooke saw it, Hopson saw it--every man on board our English
-decks who was still alive saw and understood.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">By God's mercy the breeze was still blowing into the strait. Some of
-us still had some sail left clinging to our bruised and battered
-yards; enough to take us farther in, enough to enable the boarding
-parties to row ashore, to reach those burning ships, to save
-something, surely!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From all the ships' sides as we ran up as far as we could toward where
-they lay, came now the hoarse grating of the ropes running through the
-blocks as the boats were lowered. Into those boats leaped swarms of
-men, their cutlasses ready, their pistols in their hands, their eyes
-inflamed with the lust of plunder, wild oaths and jokes, curses--and,
-sometimes, prayers that we were not too late--upon their lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And in our cutter I went, too--appointed to the command of her in
-place of the lieutenant who should have taken that command, but who
-now lay dead upon the <i>Pembroke's</i> deck, a dozen balls in his body.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Jostling one another--for there were scores of boats lowered by now,
-and all making their way, under either sail or the seamen's brawny
-arms, to where those burning galleons lay--we rushed through the half
-mile of water that separated us from them, all eager to board and be
-amongst the spoil. And woe, I thought, to him or them who, when we
-were there, should strive to bar our entrance! Our blood was up,
-fevered by the carnage of the earlier hours; woe to them who
-endeavoured to prevent our final triumph! Through wreckage of all
-kinds we went, spars, yards and masts, military tops floating like
-tubs, dead men face upward, living men clinging to oars and overturned
-boats and shrieking to be saved, while ever still, in front of us, the
-galleons burned and blazed--one blew up as we neared it, another,
-spouting flames from port and window and burning to the water's edge,
-sank swiftly and in a moment beneath the water.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But at last we were up to them, were beneath their bows, could see
-their great figureheads and read their names--most of them so terribly
-sacred that one wondered that even Spaniards should so dare to profane
-those holy words by using them for their ships!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now some orders were issued by a grey-haired officer to those
-close by. The boarding parties were told off in boats of twos and
-threes to the different vessels flaming before our eyes. The one which
-I commanded was directed to a great vessel of three decks, having
-above her upper one a huge poop-royal, and named--heavens, what a name
-for a ship!--<i>La Sacra Familia</i>. And as we swept toward them all we
-saw that one mercy was now to be vouchsafed. There would be no further
-slaughter here; no need for more shedding of blood. The vessels were
-not defended; those who had set fire to them had undoubtedly fled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet up on the poop-royal of that galleon, to which we now clambered by
-aid of rope and ladder--with cutlass in mouth and pistol in belt--as
-well as by chains and steps, we saw there was still some human life
-left. We saw a tall monk standing there, gazing down curiously at us,
-his shaven crown glistening in the autumn sun. Also, it seemed as
-though he smiled a welcome to us, was glad to see us; perhaps regarded
-us as men who might save him from that burning mass.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We rushed on board, and first, before all other things, except a
-salutation which I made to the monk by a touch of the finger to my
-hat, I directed those under my command to endeavour to stifle the
-fire, which seemed at present to be entirely confined to the after
-part of the ship. &quot;For,&quot; said I to those of my own following, and also
-to those who had come in the other boats under the command of two
-bo'suns, &quot;if this is not done there will be no getting at the goods
-whatever. Where generally is the storage made?&quot; I asked, turning to
-one of these officers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Faith, sir, I know not,&quot; he said, with a harsh laugh. &quot;My account has
-been ever with the king's--and now the queen's--ships. We sailors know
-little of such things as stored treasure. Yet,&quot; and he again laughed,
-&quot;we have our opportunity now. If we can but quench this fire, we may
-learn something.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps,&quot; said a voice behind me, musical and deep, and greatly to my
-astonishment--when I turned round and saw who its owner was, namely,
-the monk--speaking in very good English, &quot;I may be of some service
-here. I have been a passenger in her since she loaded at Guayaquil,&quot;
-and his eyes met mine boldly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They were large, roving eyes, too, jet-black and piercing, and looked
-out from a dark, handsome face. A face as close-shaven as the crown,
-yet with the blue tinge all over upper lip and chin and cheeks which
-showed where there grew a mass of hair beneath.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am obliged to you, sir,&quot; I answered, touching my hat again--for his
-manner proclaimed that this was no common peasant who had become a
-monk because the life was easier than that of a hedger and ditcher;
-but, instead, a man who knew something of the world and its
-courtesies. Then, he having told me that all the plate and coin was in
-the middle of the ship, and the merchandise, such as skins and
-leather, Campeachy wood, quinquina, silks, indigo and cochineal in the
-after part, I sent off all the men to endeavour at once to extinguish
-the flames below; to cut off communication between the atmosphere and
-that part of the ship which was already in flames; to close all
-hatches and bulkhead doors; to stop up the crevices by which the air
-could pass to the burning part, and, if possible, to separate the one
-half of the vessel from the other, as well as to pour down water on
-the flames.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, half an hour later--while still I stood gazing down on the men at
-their work, and still by my side stood the monk, uttering no word, but
-regarding with interest all that was doing--one of the bo'suns called
-up to me, saying:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We have scotched it now, sir. There is no more fire left.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4>
-
-<h5>SENOR JUAN BELMONTE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">And now I made my way below by the main hatch--for the after-companion
-was all burnt, so that there was no descent by that, I being intent on
-the men finding out--and setting to work at once on getting at and
-landing--the specie there might be in the ship; for, although the
-galleons were ours now, and 'twas a certainty that neither French nor
-Spaniards could make any attempt whatsoever to recover possession of
-them, there was another matter to be thought about, namely, that this
-one, of which I was, so to speak, in chief command, might be so badly
-injured that she might sink at any moment; and, if she did that, then
-it would be goodbye to any bars of silver and gold, pistoles or
-crusadoes which she might have stowed away in her, ready for the
-Castile mint. And with this apprehension in my mind, I decided that
-the unloading must at once begin.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But as I came down the main companion it was apparent that I must make
-my way aft through the great cabin, since my men were all at work in
-the hinder part of the ship; and, consequently, I put my hand to the
-cabin door to open it, when I discovered that it was closed--shut
-fast. Yet, even as I perceived this, while still I moved the catch
-about between my fingers, wondering what I should do, and whether I
-must not go back and fetch some of the sailors up from the after part
-to burst open the door, I heard a footstep, light, yet firm, tapping
-on the cabin deck; a footstep that, I could very well perceive, was
-coming toward the closed door; and then, a moment later, I heard a
-voice on the other side say something in Spanish, of which I could not
-catch one word; yet I doubted not that a question had been asked as to
-who I was, and what I wanted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Remembering, however, that I stood here in the position of a captor,
-remembering, too, that since all these Spanish galleons had been under
-the protection of the French admiral (with also three Spanish ships of
-war, though 'tis true <i>they</i> did not count for much), I replied in the
-French language, which, as I have before said, I had very well:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am an officer from the English fleet, and am now in charge of this
-vessel. Open the door without delay.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are you an English officer?&quot; the voice now said, in my own
-tongue, to which I--thinking that the tones were soft, gracious ones
-enough--replied:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am an English officer. Open the door at once.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I heard the bolt shot back, and entered the great cabin.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What kind of personage I had expected to find behind that door I
-scarcely now can say--though I do remember well enough that, judging
-by the gentle, musical voice which had replied to my summons, I should
-not have been over-surprised to find myself face to face with some
-Spanish woman--yet the person who appeared before me raised my
-curiosity when we now stood face to face, for, certainly, I
-had expected some one vastly different from him on whom I now
-gazed--perhaps a Spanish sailor; a woman, as I have mentioned, or some
-old don who had managed to get left behind when all the rest had fled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet I saw none of these.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Instead, a youth, somewhat tall--I remember that his eyes were almost
-on a level with mine, and I am tall myself--also extremely handsome,
-while, to add to that handsomeness, his dress was rich, if not costly.
-But first for his appearance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Those eyes were soft, dark ones, such as, I think, our poets call
-&quot;liquid,&quot; and they looked out at me from an oval face, dark and olive
-in complexion, over which the black hair curled in mighty becoming
-waves, though it was not all visible, since on his head he wore a
-beaver cap, looped up at one side with a steel buckle, and with, in
-it, a deep crimson feather--a hat that added extremely to his boyish
-beauty. For that he was a boy of almost tender years was certain. Upon
-his upper lip there was that soft down which is not a moustache, but
-tells only where some day a moustache will be; his colouring, too--a
-deep, rich red beneath the olive skin--proclaimed extreme
-youthfulness. But, what was even more agreeable than all, was the
-bright, buoyant smile with which he looked at me--a smile which
-flashed from those dark, soft eyes and trembled on the full, red lips,
-yet seemed strangely out of place here in this captured vessel, and
-upon the face of a prisoner--for such, indeed, he was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now--even as we were saluting of each other, and while I noticed
-the easy grace with which this youth took off his beaver hat--I
-noticed also the handsome satin coat he wore, the embroidered,
-open-worked linen collar, and the pretty lace at his sleeves;
-perceived, also, that his breeches were lined with camlet and faced
-with white taffeta. I spoke to him, saying:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir, I am afraid this is but a rough visit which I pay. Yet, since I
-find you aboard this galleon, you must know what brings me here; must
-know that it and all her consorts have fallen into our power--the
-power of England and Holland.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In faith, I know it very well,&quot; the young man answered. &quot;Heavens,
-what a cannonading you kept up! Yet--though perhaps you may deem me
-heartless if I say so!--I cannot aver that I am desperate sick at the
-knowledge that you have drubbed France and Spain this morning.
-<i>Carámba!</i> I am not too much in love with either, though you find me a
-passenger here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Monsieur is not then either French or Spanish?&quot; I hazarded, while he
-unstrapped his blade from its <i>porte-epée</i> and flung it on the cabin
-locker as though it wearied him. &quot;Perhaps English, to wit. And of the
-West Indies? A passenger taking this ship as a means whereby to reach
-his native land?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He looked at me with those soft dark eyes--I know not even now why
-they brought up the thought of velvet to my mind--paused a moment then
-said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Monsieur, I do protest you are a wizard, a conjuror, a geomancer. In
-truth you have hit it. I am English, though not by birth--but subject
-to England.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should scarce have thought, indeed,&quot; I ventured to say, &quot;that
-monsieur was of English blood.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No?&quot; with a slight intonation. &quot;And why not? I flatter myself that I
-have the English very well.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have it perfectly,&quot; I replied, making a little bow, &quot;but scarce
-the English look. Now a Spaniard--a Frenchman--I would have ventured
-to say, judging by your appearance, to----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again that merry laugh rang out, and again that handsome youth told me
-I must be a wizard. &quot;For,&quot; said he, &quot;you have pinked me in the very
-spot. My mother was a Spaniard--my father a Frenchman. And we have
-lived so long in Jamaica that I speak English like an Englishman: You
-see?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then almost before I could answer that I did see and understand, this
-handsome youth--who seemed as volatile as a butterfly!--began to sing
-softly to himself:</p>
-<pre>
-
- "And have you heard of a Spanish lady?
- How she wooed an Englishman?
- Garments gay and rich as may be,
- Decked with jewels, had she on."
-
-</pre>
-<p class="continue">While at the same time he picked up an instrument which I learned
-later was known as a viol d'amore, and began to produce sweet sounds
-from it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, this youth won so much upon me, what with his appearance--and
-already I found myself wondering what the ladies must think of
-him!--and his light, merry nature, that, had other things been
-different, I could very well have passed the whole day with him in
-this main cabin, only there was duty to be done. By now I knew that
-the men would most like have reached the bullion chests and be ready
-for getting them out; wherefore, the moment he ceased his song, I said
-as courteously as may be:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have to leave you now, sir--there is work to be done in this ship
-by nightfall. Yet, since you say you are a British subject, we must
-take some care of you. Will you come with me to see one of the
-admirals, who will dispose of you as best may be? If you seek to reach
-England, doubtless they can put you in the way--give you a passage--or
-what do you propose doing?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For answer he shrugged his shoulders indifferently, then said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;England is my destination--yet there is no pressing hurry. I am on my
-road to seek some friends there, but I mind not if I tarry a little.
-One of these friends--oh! a dear old creature, a Saint, I think--I
-have been bent on finding for some years now. And I shall find him.
-Then--but no matter! A few more weeks in comparison with those years
-matter but little. I shall find him. Oh, yes. I have no fear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I, too, shrugged my shoulders now--for this was, after all, no answer
-to my question; then I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But how will you proceed? You can scarce stay here--this galleon will
-probably be sunk by the admiral directly she is unloaded. What will
-you do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He shrugged his shoulders with a look of extreme indifference,
-muttering something in Spanish, which I thought might be a proverb;
-then said: &quot;Indeed, sir, I do not know. But this admiral of yours,
-what will he do with me--where take me if I go with you? I thought to
-ship at one time from Cadiz to England; then, later, when I learned we
-were coming in here, I thought to travel by land to some near port and
-find a vessel for the same place. Now I know not what to do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Neither did I know what to suggest that he should do, except that
-I told him it was very certain he must see the admiral, who, without
-any doubt, I thought, would find him an opportunity of reaching
-England--would probably take him with the fleet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And,&quot; I went on, &quot;this should be of some service to you, in the way
-of money, at least. 'Twill be a good thing for you to be put on
-English ground at no cost to yourself. Also, you may have goods or
-specie in this ship, which can be saved for you. And then, too, you
-will be near those friends you speak of--that one, especially, who is
-a Saint--who will doubtless help and assist you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again I saw the bright, luminous smile come upon his features, as he
-answered:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay! he would assist me, no doubt. Oh! yes. <i>Mon Dieu!</i> Yes! Beyond
-all doubt. And he will be so glad to see me. We have not met for some
-time. But, sir, I thank you very much for your concern about me. Only,
-as far as money goes, I am not needy. I have bills about me now, drawn
-on the old Bank of Castile, and also on some goldsmiths of London, as
-well as some gold pieces in my pocket. While as for the goods or
-specie you speak of--why, never fear! Neither this galleon nor any
-other has a pistole's worth of aught that belongs to me on board--the
-risk was too great with the seas swarming with English ships of war.
-No, sir, beyond the box which contains my necessaries, I stand to lose
-nothing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I rejoice to hear it,&quot; I said, &quot;though doubtless, since you are a
-British subject, all that belonged to you would have been sacred. Yet,
-even as 'tis, 'tis better so.&quot; Then, seeing the bo'sun at the cabin
-door, pulling his long matted hair by form of salute, and, doubtless,
-wondering what kept me so long away from him and his men, I said: &quot;Now
-I must leave you for a time. Yet it will not be long. I trust you have
-all you require to sustain you until we reach the ship I am attached
-to.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But even as I spoke, and without listening much to his answer, which
-was to the effect that a good meal had been eaten that morning before
-the battle began, and that, if necessary, he knew very well where to
-lay his hands on some food, a thought struck me which I wondered had
-not occurred to me before during my interview with him. Therefore,
-turning to him, I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But how comes it that I find you here alone--or all alone but for the
-reverend monk whom I saw above? How is it that you and he did not
-desert the ship as the others must have done?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! as for that,&quot; he replied, still with that sweet smile of his, and
-still with that bright, careless air which he had worn all through,
-and which caused him to appear superior to any of the melancholy as
-well as uncomfortable circumstances by which he was surrounded, &quot;as
-for that, the explanation is simple enough.&quot; Then, speaking rapidly
-now, he went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We saw your great ships break the boom; ha! <i>por Diôs</i>, 'twas grand,
-splendid. We saw your ships range themselves alongside the Frenchmen,
-saw them crash into them their balls, set them afire, destroy them.
-<i>Espléndido! Espléndido! Espléndido!</i>&quot; he exclaimed, bursting into the
-Spanish in his excitement. &quot;Poof! away went the <i>Bourbon</i>, topping
-over on her side, up went the fireship--we heard your shouts and
-cries, heard the great English seamen singing their songs. I tell you
-it was glorious. <i>Magnifico!</i> Only--these creatures here--the
-<i>canailles</i>--these <i>desperdicios</i>--these--<i>Diôs!</i> I know not the word
-in English--thought not so. 'Great God!' screamed Don Trebuzia de
-Vera, our captain--a miserable pig, a coward. 'Great God, they win
-again, these English dogs; curse them! they never lose, we are lost!
-lost! lost! And see,' he bellowed, 'the French admiral lands, he
-flees, deserts his ship, ha! sets it afire. Flee we, too, therefore.
-Flee! Away! To the boats, to the shore, to the mountains. Away! They
-come nearer. Away, all, or there will not be a whole throat amongst
-us.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We knowed that was what would happen,&quot; chuckled the bo'sun, who still
-stood at the open door, his fierce face lit up with a huge grin of
-approval. &quot;Go on, young sir. Tell us the tale.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, scarce heeding him, the youth, who had recovered his breath, went
-on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They obeyed him--they fled. Into the water, up the rocks, off inland
-they went. They never cast a thought to us, to Padre Jaime and myself,
-the only two passengers in the ship. Not they--they cared no jot
-whether we were blown up, or shot, or sunk, no more than they thought
-of their ingots in the hold. Their wretched lives were all in all to
-them now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Therefore they fled and left you here!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They fled and left us here, setting fire first to the ship, and
-caring nothing if we were burnt in it or not. Though that could scarce
-have happened, I think, since it would have been easy enough for us to
-plunge into the water and get ashore. Also the reverend father above
-bade me take heart--though I needed no such counsel, having never lost
-mine--averred that your side had won, that the next thing would be the
-arrival of your boats to secure the plunder--which has fallen out as
-he said--and that then both he and I would be safe. Which also has
-come to pass,&quot; he concluded.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The reverend father appears to be well versed in the arts of war,
-captures and so forth,&quot; I remarked, as now we made our way together to
-the waist of the ship, followed by the bo'sun. &quot;A strange knowledge
-for one of his trade!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Por Diôs!</i>&quot; the young fellow said, &quot;'tis not so strange, neither, as
-you will say if ever you get him to speak about the strange places in
-which he has pursued his ministrations. Why, sir, he has assisted at
-the death of many a dying sinner of the kind we have in our parts,
-held cups of water to their burning lips, wiped the sweat of death
-from off their brows. Oh!&quot; he said, stopping by one of the galleon's
-great quarter deck ports, in which the cowards who fled from the
-heavily armed ship had left a huge loaded brass cannon run out, which
-they had not had the spirit to fire; stopping there and laying a long,
-slim hand upon my arm--while I noticed that the nails were most
-beautifully shaped--&quot;Oh! he has been in some strange places; seen
-strange things, the siege and plunder of Maracaibo, to wit, and many
-other places; seen blood run like water.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The siege and plunder of Maracaibo!&quot; I found myself repeating as we
-drew near the fore-hatches, which were now open. &quot;The siege and
-plunder of Maracaibo!&quot; Where had I heard such words as these before,
-or words like them? Where? where? On whose lips had I last heard the
-name of Maracaibo?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, suddenly, I remembered that that wicked old ruffian, who had been
-fellow-passenger with me in <i>La Mouche Noire</i> had mentioned that place
-to the filthy black who was his servant--or his friend.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And--for what reason I know not, for there was no sequence whatsoever
-in such thoughts and recollections--I recalled his drunken and
-frenzied shouts to some man whom he called Grandmont; his questions
-about some youth nineteen years old, who was like to be by now grown
-up to be a devil like that dead Grandmont to whom he imagined he was
-speaking.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Which was, if you come to think of it, a strange sort of recollection,
-or memory, to be evoked simply through my hearing again the name of
-that tropic town of Maracaibo mentioned by this handsome young man.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4>
-
-<h5>FATHER JAIME.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Under the direction of the second bo'sun, the men who had all come
-into the ship with me had now gotten the battens off and had lifted
-the hatch hoods--for although it has taken some time to write down my
-meeting and interview with this young gentleman, it had not, in very
-fact, occupied more than twenty minutes--and I found them already
-beginning to bring up some large chests and boxes with strange marks
-upon them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also, I found standing close by the opening the monk whom the young
-man had called Father Jaime, he being engaged in peering down into the
-hold with what seemed to me a great air of interest, which was not,
-perhaps, very strange, seeing that the treasure below was now destined
-for a far different purpose from that for which it was originally
-intended.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He turned away, however, from this occupation on seeing us approach,
-and said quietly, in the rich, full voice which I had previously
-noticed, to the young man by my side:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So, Seńor Juan, you have found a friend, I see. You are fortunate.
-This way you may light on your road to England.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you, sir, what is your destination, may I ask?&quot; I said, for I
-knew I should soon have to decide what to do with him. The grey-haired
-officer had given me, among other hurried instructions, one to the
-effect that anything which was brought up from below was to be
-instantly sent off to Sir George Rooke's flagship; and 'twas very easy
-to see that there was none too much specie in this ship--while I knew
-not what was to be done with the merchandise. Therefore, the time was
-now near at hand for me to return and report myself, taking with me my
-findings, while, also, I should have to take with me these two whom I
-had discovered left behind on board.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Father Jaime bowed graciously on my asking this question--indeed, he
-was a far more courteous and well bred man than I, perhaps in my
-ignorance, had ever supposed would have been found amongst his
-class--and replied: &quot;I, sir, have to present myself at Lugo, where
-there is a monastery to which I am accredited.&quot; Then, with an
-agreeable smile, he continued:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I trust I shall not be detained. Already I am two years behind my
-time--as is our young friend here, Seńor Juan Belmonte, and----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Two years!&quot; I exclaimed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In truth, 'tis so,&quot; my young gentleman, whose name I now learned,
-replied. &quot;Two years. These galleons should have sailed from Hispaniola
-that length of time ago, only so many things have happened. First
-there was the getting them properly laden, then the fear of
-filibusters and buccaneers----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That fear exists no longer, my son,&quot; the monk interrupted. &quot;They are
-disbanded, broken up, gone, dispersed. There will be no more
-buccaneering now, the saints be praised.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He said: &quot;the saints be praised yet had he not worn the holy garb
-he did, I should have almost thought that he said it with regret.
-Indeed, were it not for his shaven crown and face, he would not have
-ill-befitted the general idea I had formed of those gentry--what with
-his stalwart form, bold, fierce eyes and sun-browned visage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, the saints be praised!&quot; the young seńor repeated after him,
-&quot;the saints be praised. They were the curse of the Indies--I am
-old enough to remember that. Yet, now, all are gone, as you say,
-dispersed--broken up. Pointis has done that, and death and disease.
-Still, where are they?--those who are alive--I wonder.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There are few alive now,&quot; the monk replied, &quot;and those of no worth.
-Recall, my son, recall what we know happened in the Indies. Kidd is
-taken, Grogniet dead, Le Picard executed. Townley--a great man
-that!--I--I mean, a great villain--fell with forty wounds in his body;
-at Guayaquil nine brave--nine vagabonds--left dead; and more, many
-more.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the villain Gramont&quot;--and now I started; was this whom he called
-Gramont the man that old vagabond Carstairs had spoken of--as I
-supposed--as Grandmont?--&quot;forget not the greatest of them all, holy
-father. What of him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He died at sea. Drowned,&quot; Father Jaime replied. Then added: &quot;He was
-the boldest of them all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twas never known for certain that he was so drowned,&quot; Belmonte said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twas known for certain; is certain. I have spoken with those who saw
-his ship's boats floating near where he must have been cast away and
-lost. Fool that he was! Madman! Louis the King gave him his
-commission, made him Lieutenant du Roi. Then, because the devil's
-fever was hot in his blood, he must make one more of his accursed
-cruises, and go filibustering thus, besieging towns, plundering and
-destroying once more. The fool! to do it 'neath the King's lilies--to
-ruin himself forever, when he was rich, rich--ah, heavens! how rich he
-was! 'Tis well for him that he was drowned--disappeared forever.
-Otherwise the wheel would have been his portion. And,&quot; he added after
-a pause, &quot;righteously so. Righteously so!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Stopping as he said those words, he saw that we were regarding him
-with interest--for, indeed, had this drowned buccaneer been a friend
-of his he could scarcely have spoken with more fervency--then added,
-impressively:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My sons, I knew that man--that Gramont; and I--I pitied him. Knowing
-his fate, and much of his life, I pity him still.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he turned away and began telling of his beads as he strode up and
-down the deck. And I, remembering all I had overheard the man
-Carstairs say, determined that, if the chance arose, I would ask the
-reverend father if he had known this Carstairs, too; for I had
-sufficient curiosity in my composition to desire to learn something
-more about that hoary-headed old vagabond, though 'twas not at all
-likely that I should ever set eyes on him again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That chance was not now, however, since at this moment there came
-alongside the whole flotilla of boats, which had been despatched
-severally to the various galleons, they being at this time all
-collected together ere going back to the admiral, and needing only us
-to make them complete. Wherefore, giving orders to have all the chests
-and boxes which we had unearthed placed in our own boats, we stepped
-over the side, I motioning to the father and the seńor to take their
-places by me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your necessaries,&quot; I said, &quot;can be fetched away later, when 'tis
-decided how your respective journeys are to be brought to an end.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now, ere I get on with what I have to tell, it is fitting that--to
-make an end of this siege of Vigo, which, indeed, reinstated later, in
-the opinion of the Parliament and their countrymen, all those who had
-failed at Cadiz--I set down what was the advantage to England of this
-taking of the galleons, though, in truth, that advantage was far more
-in the crushing blow it administered to the French sea service than in
-aught else; for it broke that service's power more than aught else had
-done since the time of La Hogue, ten years ago; and it crippled France
-so upon the waters that, though she still continued to fight us boldly
-whenever we met, she was able to do but very little harm in that way.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Of the fifteen great ships of war which the French admiral,
-Chateaurenault, commanded, five were burned up, some being set alight
-by themselves ere they fled, the others by us. Four others were run
-ashore and bulged. Five more, not so badly injured, were taken home by
-our fleet, and afterward did us good service against their old
-masters, these being <i>Le Prompte</i>, <i>L'Assure</i>, <i>Le Firme</i>, <i>Le
-Modčre</i>, and <i>Le Triton</i>; while the remaining one, <i>Le Bourbon</i>, was
-captured, as I have said, by Vandergoes, and fell to the share of the
-Dutch. Then, of their frigates, we burnt two, and also a fireship
-other than the merchantman loaded with snuff. Also, we burnt and
-destroyed three Spanish men-of-war.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As to the galleons, eight of them were sunk by their owners, the
-others were divided between our Dutch friends and ourselves. And this
-is what we got for our share: A few ingots of gold, several bars of
-silver and some jewels--the principal thing of worth amongst these
-being a great crown of gold set with rubies; a gold crucifix enriched
-with many stones, seven hundred pounds' weight of silver bars, many
-cases of silver ore, and some enormous cases of plate. Also, there was
-much cochineal, tobacco, logwood, cocoa, snuff and sugar, some of
-which was saved and some was sunk to the bottom. And the gold and
-silver was afterward taken to our English mint and coined into
-five-pound pieces, crowns, half-crowns and shillings, each piece
-having &quot;Vigo&quot; stamped beneath the queen's head, thereby to distinguish
-it. Later on, and somewhat later, too--it was when I drew my share of
-the prize money, to which I became entitled as having taken part in
-that great fight--I observed that my pieces had that word upon them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But alas! there should have been much more, only the galleons had lain
-twenty-five days within that harbour ere we got to them, and, during
-that time, they had landed much which had been sent on to Lugo, and,
-had it not been for that foolish Spanish punctilio, which would not
-allow anything to be done hastily, they would have gotten all of their
-goods and precious things ashore. Only, because they should have gone
-into Cadiz and discharged there, and had instead come to Vigo, much
-delay happened ere the order for their doing so was given. Which was
-very good for us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Our loss, considering the fierce fight both sides made of it, was not
-considerable. Hopson, his ship, because she had borne the brunt of the
-encounter, did suffer the most, she having one hundred and fifteen of
-her sailors killed on the deck or drowned, with nine wounded; the
-<i>Barfleur</i> and the <i>Association</i> had each but two men killed; the
-<i>Mary</i> lost none; the <i>Kent</i> had her bo'sun wounded, while for
-ourselves, we had many wounded, but none that I know of killed. Of
-those who went ashore to attack the Fort of Redondella under his Grace
-of Ormond, none of much note were slain, but Colonel Pierce got a bad
-wound from a cannon shot fired by one of our own men-of-war, and some
-other colonels were also wounded.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas through a mighty mass of wreckage and floating spars, masts
-and yards, that we passed toward the <i>Royal Sovereign</i>, which lay back
-a bit and was nearest the mouth of the strait and beyond where that
-boom had been, and as we did so I saw my young gentleman, Seńor
-Belmonte, turn somewhat pale as he observed the terrible traces which
-battles--and more particularly sea battles--always leave behind.
-Indeed, the soft red flush leapt to his cheeks, and the full scarlet
-lips themselves looked more white than red as his eyes glanced down at
-the objects that went a-floating by on the water; and, perhaps, since
-he was so young, 'twas not very strange that these sights should have
-sickened him. For there passed us dead men with half their heads blown
-off; others with a terrible grin of agony upon their faces; some with
-half their inwards dragging alongside them like cords--the waves all
-tinged a horrid reddish brown--while hats, wigs and other things
-floating by as the tide made, were but cruel sights for so young a
-man--and he, probably, no fighter--to see. And, after such a lusty
-encounter as this had been, one could not hope to witness anything
-much better.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As for the monk--on whom I could not but instinctively fix my eyes now
-and again, for (although I could not have told why) the man had
-fascinated me with the knowledge which he seemed to have once
-possessed of all those hideous filibusters and sea rovers who now, he
-said, were dead and gone and driven off the ocean--he seemed to regard
-these things as calmly and impassibly as though he sat in some lady's
-boudoir. His dark eyes, 'twas true, flashed here and there and all
-around--now on a headless man, and now on the contorted features of
-another, but he paled not, nor did he express or give any sign of
-interest in aught until we ran alongside our noble <i>Royal Sovereign</i>,
-when he cast his eye approvingly over her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A great vessel,&quot; he said, &quot;a mighty craft! Worthy to represent her
-great country&quot;; then grasped the life line hanging down, as I motioned
-him to ascend her gangway, and went on board as calmly as though
-accustomed to going over the sides of ships every day of his life.
-From the main shrouds there hung a flag when we stepped on board,
-which I have since learned to know denoted that a council of war was
-being held in the ship; also there were many captains' gigs and some
-admirals' barges all about her, so that 'twas plain enough to see,
-even without that flag, that a consultation was taking place on board.
-And scarce had I given my orders for the chests to be hauled in than
-the first lieutenant approached me and asked very courteously if I was
-not Lieutenant Crespin.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A moment later I was being ushered into the great main cabin, leaving
-my two companions on the deck for the present--and in another instant
-was making my salutations to the grey-haired admiral, Sir George
-Rooke, who sat at the head of the table, and to his Grace, the Duke of
-Ormond--a brave, handsome soldier--who had come on board after taking
-of the Fort of Redondella.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now I pass over the many flattering things said to me by those
-great officers seated there--since we had flown straight to Vigo after
-the <i>Pembroke</i> had picked up the fleet at sea, and had at once been
-occupied in our preparations for taking of the galleons, this was the
-first time we had met--over, also, the compliments paid me for the
-manner in which I had made my way from Holland to Cadiz and Lagos.
-Suffice it that both Sir George Rooke and the duke told me that my
-services would not be forgot, and that when I returned to my Lord
-Marlborough I should not go unaccompanied by their commendations.
-However, enough of this. And now I told my tale of the morning, and of
-the two persons I had found on board <i>La Sacra Familia</i>--told, too,
-that they were at this moment on board the Royal Sovereign, I having
-deemed it best to bring them along with me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let us see them,&quot; said Rooke, and straightway bade his flag
-lieutenant go bring them in.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But I think that, although I had told all assembled at this board what
-kind of persons these were whom I had discovered in the ship, all the
-admirals, generals and captains were astonished at their appearance
-when they stood before them; while so handsome a show of it did my
-young Seńor Belmonte make, that, perhaps almost unknowing what he did,
-Admiral Hopson pushed a chair toward him and bade him be seated. And
-because such courtesy could not be shown to one of these visitors
-without the same being extended to the other, the monk was also
-accommodated with a chair in which he sat himself calmly, his eyes
-roving round all those officers assembled there.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You were passengers in this galleon--the--the--<i>Sacra Familia?</i>&quot; Sir
-George said, glancing at a paper in his hand, on which I supposed the
-names of all the captured ships were written down, &quot;and as this
-officer tells me, are anxious to proceed to your destination. Will you
-inform me of what that destination is, so that we may assist you in
-your desire?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mine,&quot; exclaimed Seńor Juan--and as his sweet, soft voice uttered the
-words musically, all eyes were turned on him, &quot;is England eventually;
-yet,&quot; and he smiled that gracious smile which I had seen before, &quot;my
-passage was but paid to Spain--and I am in Spain. Beyond being
-permitted to go ashore here with my few necessaries, I know not that I
-need demand any of your politely proffered assistance.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Sir George shrugged his shoulders while he looked attentively at the
-handsome young man--who, I thought, to speak truth, received the
-civilities of his speech with somewhat too much the air of one
-accustomed to having homage and consideration paid to him--then he
-said quietly:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That, of course, shall be done at once. There can be no obstacle to
-that. We only regret that the rigours of war have caused us to
-inconvenience any ordinary passenger. You have of course your papers.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I have them here,&quot; and he produced from his breast a bundle, at
-which Sir George glanced lightly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he turned to Father Jaime, who preserved still the look of
-calmness which had distinguished him all through. Yet I wondered, too,
-that he should have done so, for he had been subjected to even more
-scrutiny than Belmonte had been, perhaps because of the garb he wore;
-scrutiny that, in one instance at least, would have disquieted a less
-contained man, since Admiral Hopson, I noticed, had scarcely ever
-taken his eyes off him since he had entered the cabin, or, when he had
-taken them off, had instantly refixed them so upon his countenance
-that 'twas very palpable to me that the man puzzled him. But what need
-to describe that look which all the world has often seen on the face
-of one who is endeavouring to recall to himself where, or whether, he
-has ever seen another before.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you, sir?&quot; the admiral asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My destination,&quot; the monk replied, his voice firm, full and sonorous
-as before, &quot;is the Abbey of Lugo; and since 'tis far nearer here than
-Cadiz, I can scarce regret finding myself at Vigo, instead of at the
-latter place.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, even as he spoke, I saw Hopson give a slight start and look even
-more intently at him than before.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he bent forward toward Father Jaime, and said quietly: &quot;Reverend
-sir, is it possible that we have ever met before? In the West Indies,
-to wit?&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4>
-
-<h5>WHAT DID THE ADMIRAL DISCOVER?</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Not a month had elapsed ere I stood alone on the beach of Viana, which
-is in the province of Entre-Douro-é-Minho, in Portugal, and watched,
-with somewhat sad thoughts in my mind, the white foresail and mainsail
-of the <i>Pembroke's</i> jolly boat rising and falling on the waters as,
-gradually, it made its way out to sea to where, a league off, there
-lay the English fleet. The English fleet, and bound for England!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Vigo was freed of its enemies and captors; over night, at dark, the
-whole of the British forces had cleared out of the bay, and, this
-morning, Juan Belmonte and myself had been put ashore at this
-miserable Portuguese town, or rather village, lying some twenty miles
-south of the Spanish frontier.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Briefly, this was the reason why I found myself standing alone upon
-this beach watching that fast disappearing boat, while, walking up to
-the town, went Seńor Juan to seek for lodgings for us for the night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After that council was concluded on board the <i>Royal Sovereign</i>--and
-from which Father Jaime, Belmonte and myself had retired after our
-interview with the admirals--the conclusion had been arrived at that,
-the work being done here--namely, the French fleet in our power and
-the Spanish galleons destroyed--it would be impolitic as well as
-unnecessary for the English to remain any longer in the place. This
-decision was, however, come to totally against the desire of the Duke
-of Ormond, who himself was anxious to take possession of the town of
-Vigo, to lie there during the winter months, and, in the spring, to
-open again the campaign against France in that portion of Spain.
-Unfortunately, however, for this idea--which was in fact a mighty good
-one, and, if carried out, might have gone far toward crippling France
-even more than she was eventually crippled--it was impossible. There
-were no provisions whereby his army could be sustained for the winter,
-nor had Rooke a sufficiency in his ships to provide him with, and
-neither would the admiral consent to leave behind a portion of his
-fleet with which--should it come to that--the duke could escape in
-case of necessity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For,&quot; said he to Ormond, as I learnt, &quot;you have seen, my Lord Duke,
-the disaster which has followed on our enemies trusting themselves
-within this narrow and landlocked bay. Would your Grace, therefore,
-think it wise to follow their bad example and give them an opportunity
-which, doubt not, they would take as soon as possible, of retaliating
-upon us?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And to this Ormond could but shrug his shoulders, being able to find
-no answer to such remark. Therefore, at last--for all was not decided
-on the instant, but only after many more councils and much further
-argument--it was resolved that the fleet should remain no longer, nor,
-of course, the land forces neither.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But while all these determinations were being come to, I had had more
-than one interview with Rooke and Ormond (both of whom had entertained
-and made much of, nor ceased ever their commendations of, me), since
-it was very necessary that a decision should be come to as to what was
-to be my future course. For my work was done, my connection with this
-fleet over; I had no more business there. It was time I got back to my
-own regiment. Only how to get there--that was the question!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will scarce find at any port, Spanish or Portuguese,&quot; said the
-admiral to me, &quot;a vessel putting to sea now; the risk is too great.
-For, consider, we are all about, and none know what may be our next
-move--this one has frightened all this part of the world. Then that
-old dog, Benbow, lieth in wait farther up. While to make the seas
-still more dangerous, the French ships of war and the privateers are
-everywhere. In truth, all traffic on the water is at an end for a
-time.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Tis not so on land, though, sir,&quot; I ventured to say, &quot;with a good
-horse I would undertake----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What!&quot; exclaimed Ormond, with a laugh, &quot;not surely to make your way
-to Flanders by land! You would scarce try that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay! but I would, though, my Lord Duke,&quot; I said, laughing, too, at the
-look of amazement on his face. &quot;In very truth, I would. I have thought
-it all over.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis impossible! You would never arrive.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your Grace, I think I should. Permit me to explain. We are here in
-Spain----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay,&quot; said Rooke, interposing, &quot;and so we are. But, Mr. Crespin, you
-would never get ashore, or, getting there, would never escape out of
-Vigo. Remember, the town itself is not in our hands, and the moment we
-were gone you would be set upon, or, even though you should be
-unmolested while we remain here, you would be followed from Vigo
-and----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir,&quot; I interrupted in my excitement, &quot;this is my plan: There
-is a seaport hard by here, called Viana, and 'tis in Portuguese
-territory--therefore neutral--yet inclining more to us than to
-France.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Aye,&quot; said Rooke, &quot;and will come over to us ere long. The king leans
-to our side the most, because we are strongest on the seas--this
-taking of the galleons will decide him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Meanwhile,&quot; I went on, &quot;'tis neutral. Now, from there I can make my
-way to Spain----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's the rub! When you are in Spain. And afterward, in France.
-What then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In both countries I can be a Frenchman,&quot; and now I saw these two
-great officers look at me attentively. &quot;I have the French tongue very
-well--well enough to pass through Spain as a Frenchman, while--when in
-France--I can pass as a Spaniard who knows the French.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'S heart!&quot; exclaimed Ormond, slapping of the table with his be-ringed
-hand, &quot;but I would you were in one of my regiments. You have a brain
-as well as a stalwart form. You must go far; and shall, if my word is
-any good with Jack Churchill.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My Lord Duke, you are most gracious. Yet may I not ask if the plan is
-a fair one? At least, remembering that, by sea, the way is closed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Fair or not fair, at least I brought them to it--more especially
-since, even though they had most utterly disapproved of my proposed
-method, they could neither of them have opposed it. For I was the Earl
-of Marlborough's officer; nay, more, I was his own particular and
-private messenger; I had come under his orders, and was still under
-them. Moreover, his last words to me had been: &quot;Do your duty; fulfil
-the task I charge you with; then make your way back to me as best you
-can.&quot; That was all, yet enough.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Therefore it was arranged without more demur, though Sir George Rooke,
-who was now growing old, shook his head somewhat gravely, even as he
-ceased endeavouring to turn me from what I had resolved on.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For,&quot; said he, kindly, &quot;I like it not. You are still young--some
-years off thirty, I should suppose--and you are a good soldier--too
-good to be spared to any crawling Spaniard's knife or to fall into any
-truculent Frenchman's hands. And I would have taken you to England and
-put in the first queen's ship for Holland, had you chosen. Still, as
-you will, you will. Only, be very careful.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir!&quot; I said, touched at his fatherly consideration. &quot;Be sure I will.
-Yet I think I can take care of myself. I have a good sword and a
-strong arm, and--well, one bullet is much the same as another. If one
-finds me in Spain or France, 'twill be no worse than one in Flanders.
-And, perhaps, my bullet is not moulded yet!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As for his Grace, he took a different tack, he being younger and more
-<i>débonnair</i> than the admiral.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oddsbobs,&quot; he said, &quot;bullets are bullets, and may be a soldier's lot
-or not. But for you, Lieutenant, I fear a worse danger. You are a
-good-looking fellow enough, with your height and breadth, blue eyes
-and brown hair. Rather, therefore, beware of the Spanish girls, and
-keep out of their way--or, encountering them, give them no cause for
-jealousy! Oh! I know them, and--well, they are the devil! 'Tis they
-who wield the knife--as often as not against those whom they loved
-five minutes back.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, looking at the duke--who was himself of great manly beauty--I
-could well enough believe he knew what he was talking of. For, if all
-reports were true--but this matters not.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The time had not, however, yet come, for some day or so, for me to set
-out, since 'twas arranged that I should be put ashore by one of the
-<i>Pembroke's</i> boats when the fleet went out of the bay, and that then
-my last farewell would be made to those amongst whom I had now lived
-for some weeks. Meanwhile, Sir George asked me what had become of my
-young friend, the Spanish gentleman, whom he called my &quot;captive.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, this young captive had had still another interview with him after
-that first one, Sir George having sent for him from the Pembroke, into
-which he had been temporarily received as a guest--since <i>La Sacra
-Familia</i> had been sunk by us after being dismantled of all in her of
-any worth--and he had once more renewed his offer of taking him to
-England. And it surprised me exceedingly--I being present at this
-interview--to observe the extraordinary courtesy and deference which
-he--who was more used to receive deference from his fellow-men than to
-accord it--showed to the youth; for he took him very graciously by the
-hand when he entered the cabin, led him to a seat, and, when there,
-renewed once more that offer of which I have spoken.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Indeed, his politeness was so great that I began to wonder if, by any
-chance, the admiral knew of this young man being any one of extreme
-importance, to whom it might be worth his while, as the chief
-representative of England here, to pay court. Yet, so silly was that
-wonderment that I dismissed it instantly from my mind, deciding that
-it was pity for his youth and loneliness which so urged the other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If you would go with us,&quot; he said, sitting by Belmonte's side, and
-speaking in the soft, well bred tones which were special to him, &quot;you
-should be very welcome, I assure you, sir; and I do not say this as a
-sailor speaking to one who has by chance fallen into his hands, so to
-put it, but as an old man to a--to a young one; for, sir, I have
-children myself, some young as you, some older; have sons and--and
-daughters, and I should be most grateful to all who would be kind to
-them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, as he spoke thus there became visible in Seńor Juan another trait
-of character which I had scarce looked to see, it proving him to be a
-youth of great susceptibility. For, as the admiral made his kindly
-speech, I saw the beautiful dark eyes of the young man fill with
-tears--'twas marvellous how handsome he appeared at this moment--and,
-a second later, he had seized the old man's hand and had clasped it to
-his breast and kissed it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But, even as he performed this action, I also saw Sir George start a
-little, give, indeed, what was but the faintest of starts; yet beneath
-the bronze upon his manly face there rose a colour which, had he not
-been a sailor, and that a pretty old one, might have appeared to be a
-blush. But because he was so manly and so English himself--being
-always most courteous and well bred, though abhorring, as it seemed to
-me, all signs of emotion--I concluded that this foreign style of
-salutation did not commend itself over-much to him; yet he listened
-very courteously, deferentially almost, it appeared, to the words of
-gratitude which the youth was now pouring out--words of gratitude for
-his offer, yet combined also with an absolute refusal of that offer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very well; since you will not, sir,&quot; he said, when the young man had
-finished, &quot;there is no more to be done. Yet, take a word of warning
-from me, I beseech you. You will find it hard to reach England in a
-better way than I have suggested to you. Both France and Spain must be
-overrun with troops of all kinds at this time and--if you fall into
-their hands with your papers about you, showing you are an English
-subject--it may go hard. Also&quot;--and now he tapped the cabin deck with
-his red-heeled shoe and looked down at it for a moment--&quot;also--you are
-extremely well favoured. That, too, may injure you should--should--but,&quot;
-he went on, and without concluding his last sentence, &quot;you understand
-what I mean,&quot; and now he gazed at Seńor Juan with clear, frank eyes;
-gazed straight into his own.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For the life of me I could not understand what he was driving at, even
-if the youth himself could; since how a man should be injured by his
-good looks, even though in a hostile country, I failed to conceive.
-Certain, however, it was that the other understood well enough Sir
-George's meaning--his next action showed plainly enough that he did.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For now the rich warm colouring left his soft downless cheeks, even
-the full lips became pale, and he lifted his long slim hand and thrust
-it through the clusters of curls that hung over his forehead, as
-though in some distress of mind; then said, a moment later, looking up
-now and returning the admiral's glance fearlessly, while speaking very
-low.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I understand. Yet, Seńor, have no fear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But I noticed, all the same, that he lifted his other hand as though
-to deprecate Sir George saying another word, which gesture he too
-seemed quite to understand, since he gave a half bow very solemnly ere
-he turned away.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Later, after Seńor Juan had departed, and when Admiral Hopson had come
-over to the <i>Royal Sovereign</i>, to prepare for another of those endless
-councils which took place daily, Sir George looked up at me from some
-papers he was perusing, and said: &quot;You are in the <i>Pembroke</i>, Mr.
-Crespin. Where have they bestowed that young man?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is very comfortable, sir,&quot; I replied. &quot;They have given him a spare
-cabin in the after flat.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the officers? Do they make him welcome, treat him with courtesy?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, indeed. He is popular with them already, sings them sweet
-songs accompanied by that instrument of his; is a rare hand at tricks
-of all kinds with the pass-dice and cards, and so forth. They will
-miss him when he has gone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph! Does he say who or what he is--which island in the Indies he
-belongs to--who are his kith and kin?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He says not much, sir, on that score; except that he is well enough
-to do--is traveling more or less to kill time--cares very little where
-he goes to for the present, so that he sees the world. As for his
-home, he appears best acquainted with Jamaica.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ha!&quot; said Sir George. &quot;He says all that, does he? Yet, though 'tis
-not permissible to doubt those who stand more or less in the degree of
-guests, I somewhat suspect that young man of not being all he appears
-to be. There is some other reason for his voyage to Europe than that
-he gives; he comes not on mere pleasure only. I know that--some day if
-you ever meet him again you will very likely know it, too, Mr.
-Crespin.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps,&quot; exclaimed Admiral Hopson--who was soon to become Sir John
-Hopson (with a good pension) for the gallant part he had played in the
-late fight--&quot;he was a friend of that accursed monk, although he has
-not levanted as he did. And since you talk of meetings, why, i'fags, I
-would like to meet that gentleman once more.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Levanted!&quot; Sir George and I exclaimed together. &quot;Is the monk set
-out?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, he is,&quot; replied the other. &quot;Went last night--the instant he could
-get his necessaries out of the galleon's hold. It was discourteous,
-too, since I had previously sent to crave a few words with him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'S faith,&quot; Sir George exclaimed with a laugh, &quot;you are not turning
-Papist, old friend, are you? Didst want the monk to shrive or confess
-you, or receive you into his church?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not I--no Papistical doings for me,&quot; the blunt old gentleman replied.
-&quot;The church my mother had me baptised in, and under whose blessing I
-have been fighting all my life, is good enough for me to finish in.
-Still, had I a foolish woman's mind to change, 'twould not be to that
-man I should go.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why!&quot; exclaimed Sir George, &quot;what know you of him? Yet--yet,&quot; and he
-spoke slowly, &quot;you know the Indies, Tom--and the monks are not always
-what they might be. Did you chance to know him, since you sent to
-demand an interview?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I thought so,&quot; said the inscrutable old sea dog quietly, &quot;wherefore I
-sent asking him for a meeting. Yet, as our beloved friends the French
-say, the cowl does not always make the monk. Hey? And, if 'tis the
-man I think, 'twas not always the cowl and gown that adorned his
-person--rather, instead, the belt and pistols, buff jerkin, scarlet
-sash, long serviceable rapier handy, and--have at you, ha! one, two
-and through you. Hey!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And as he spoke he made a feint of lunging at his brother admiral with
-a quill that lay to his hand.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>&quot;DANGERS WORSE THAN SHOT OR STEEL--OR DEATH.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Now I return to the beach at Viana, on which I stood after having
-quitted the fleet--yet still, ere I go on, I must put you in the way
-of knowing how it comes about that for companion I have Seńor Juan
-Belmonte, who at this moment is making his way into what proved to be
-a very filthy town in search of lodgings for us for the night. And
-this is how it came about:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When it was decided finally that I should part from the British
-squadron on the day they cleared out--they intending to anchor over
-night outside of Vigo bay and to send forward some frigates scouting
-ere going on their way to England--I made mention to Belmonte that
-such was my intention. Also I asked him--I finding of him in his
-cabin, where he was reading a Spanish book of love verses--what he
-meant to do with himself, since, if he did not leave the ship when, or
-before, I did, he would be forced to accept Sir George's invitation to
-proceed to England with him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, my friend!&quot; he said, with ever the soft, gentle smile upon his
-handsome features, &quot;my friend and conqueror&quot;--for so he had taken to
-terming me--&quot;I want no terrible journey to England in these great
-fierce ships of war. Tell me, tell me, <i>amígo mio</i>, what you are going
-to do yourself. Your plans! Your plans!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My plans,&quot; I said, seeing no reason why I should not divulge them to
-him, since it was impossible he could do me any hurt, even if so
-inclined, which I thought not very likely, &quot;are simple ones. I go
-ashore at Viana, find a horse--one will carry me part of the journey,
-then I can get another--and so, by God's will, get to the end, to my
-destination.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But the destination. The destination. Where is it? Tell me that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The destination is Flanders, the seat of the present war. I am a
-soldier. My place is there.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Aye, aye,&quot; he replied. &quot;I know. You have told me. Your service is not
-with these ships nor their soldiers, but with others--a great army,
-far north.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is it,&quot; I said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you will travel all that way--mean to travel--alone!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I must,&quot; I said, &quot;if I intend to get there. There is no other way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Take me with you!&quot; he exclaimed, suddenly, springing impetuously to
-his feet from the chair in which he sat. &quot;Take me with you! I will be
-a good companion--amuse you, sing to you, wile away the long hours,
-stand by your side. If necessary,&quot; yet he said this a little slower,
-and with more hesitation, as I thought, &quot;fight with you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, putting all other objections which rose to my mind away for the
-moment, this last utterance of his did not recommend him very strongly
-to me. &quot;Fight for me, indeed!&quot; I thought. &quot;A fine fighter this would
-be!--a youth who had turned pale at seeing a dead man or two floating
-by in the water after the battle, or at hearing the shriek of a
-wounded one as we rowed past him on our way to the <i>Royal Sovereign!</i>&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">However, aloud I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Seńor Belmonte, I fear it cannot be as you desire. The road will be
-hard and rough, the journey long; there will be little opportunity for
-singing and jiggettings. Moreover, death will always be more or less
-in the air. If, in Spain or France, I am discovered--nay, even
-suspected of being what I am, an English soldier--'twill be short
-shrift for me. I shall be deemed a spy, and shot, or hung to the
-nearest tree. Take, therefore, my counsel at once, and follow it. Go
-you to England in this ship, as the admiral invites you. That way you
-will be safe and easy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, no,&quot; he answered. &quot;I will not; I will not. I will go with
-you. I like you,&quot; he said, with a most friendly glance. &quot;If--if you go
-alone--if we part here--we shall never meet again. That shall not be.
-I am resolved. And--and--only let me go, and I will be so good! I
-promise. Will not sing a note--will--see there!&quot; and, like a petulant
-boy as he was, he seized his viol d'amore, which hung on a nail in the
-cabin, and dashed it to the floor, while, a moment later, he would
-have stamped his foot into it had I not stopped him. &quot;Yes, I will
-break it all to pieces. Since it offends you, I will never strike
-another note on it, nor will I ever sing again--not in your hearing,
-at least--though I have known some who liked well enough to hear me
-play--and sing, too.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juan,&quot; I said, not knowing in the least why his impassioned grief
-moved me so much as to address him thus familiarly, which I had never
-done before, &quot;it offends me not at all; instead, I have often listened
-gratefully to the music of your voice and viol. But now--now--on such
-a journey as I go it would be out of place, even if you were there,
-which you must not be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I must. I must. I must,&quot; he answered. &quot;I will. You called me Juan
-just now--ah! you are my friend, or you would not speak thus. Oh!&quot; he
-went on, and now he clutched my arm and gazed fervently into my face,
-&quot;do not refuse. And see, think, Mervan,&quot; pronouncing my name thus, and
-in a tone that would have moved a marble heart, &quot;I shall be no trouble
-to you. I can ride, oh! like a devil when I choose--I have ridden with
-the Mestizos and natives in the isles--and I can use a pistol or
-petronel, also a sword. See,&quot; and he whipped his rapier off the bed
-where it was a-lying, drew it from its sheath impetuously, as he did
-everything, and began making pass after pass through the open door of
-the cabin into the gangway. &quot;I know what to do. Also, remember, I can
-speak Spanish when we are in Spain--pass for a Spaniard if 'tis
-necessary--and--and--and----&quot; he broke off, &quot;if you will not take me
-with you, why, then, I will follow you; track you like a shadow, sleep
-like a dog outside the inn in which you lie warm and snug; ay! even
-though you beat me and drive me away for doing so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again and still again I resisted, yet 'twas hard to do; for, though I
-had spoken against his singings and playings, and kept ever before my
-eyes the stern remembrance of my duty, which was to make my way
-straight to my goal and crash through all impediments, I could not but
-reflect that this bright, joyous lad by my side would help to cheer
-many a lonely hour and many a gloomy mile. Yet again I spoke against
-the project, putting such thoughts aside.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Child,&quot; I said, &quot;you do not know, do not understand. Our--my--path
-will be beset with dangers. <i>I</i> know what I am doing, what lies before
-me. Listen, Juan. 'Tis more than like that I shall never reach
-Flanders, never ride with my old troops again, never more feel a
-comrade's hand clasped in mine; may perish by the wayside, have my
-throat cut in some lonely inn, be shot in the back, taken as a spy.
-Yet 'tis my duty. I am a soldier and a man; you are----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes?&quot; with an inward catching of the breath, a flash from the dark
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A boy; a lad; also, you say, well enough to do, with a long and happy
-life before you, no call upon you to fling that life away. Juan, it
-must not be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It shall,&quot; he said, leaning forward toward me. &quot;It shall; I swear it
-by my dead mother's memory. Boy! Lad, you say. So be it. Yet with the
-will and determination of a hundred men. To-morrow, Mervan, to-night,
-to-day, if I can get a boat to the great ship out there, I visit the
-admiral and ask him to put me ashore with you. And he will do it.
-Great as he is, in command over all you English here, I have a power
-within,&quot; and he struck his breast with his hands, &quot;a power over him
-which will force him to do as I wish. Do you dare me--challenge me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; I answered quietly, though in truth somewhat amazed at his
-words, while still remembering the strange deference Sir George had
-shown all along to the youth. &quot;I dare to say you may prevail--with
-him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Aye--with him!&quot; and now he laughed a little, showing the small pearly
-white teeth, somewhat. &quot;With him! I understand. But you mean not with
-you also. Yet, with you, too, I shall prevail. I will follow you till
-you give me leave to keep ever by your side. Remember, if I am not
-Spanish, I have lived in Spain's dependencies. I can be very Spanish
-when I choose,&quot; and again he laughed, and again the white teeth
-glistened beneath the scarlet lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If,&quot; I said, scarce knowing or understanding what power was
-influencing me, making me a puppet in this youth's hands--yet still a
-yielding one!--&quot;the admiral gives his consent to put you ashore, then
-I----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, Mervan?&quot; he interposed quickly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then I will not withhold mine. Come with me if you choose--remember,
-'tis at your own risk.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In a moment his whole face was transfigured with joy. Seeing that joy,
-I deemed myself almost a brute to have ever tried to drive him away
-from me, although I had endeavoured to do so as much for his own
-safety as my own. He laughed and muttered little pleased expressions
-in Spanish which I neither understood nor am capable of setting down
-here; almost I thought he would Have flung his arms around my neck and
-embraced me. Indeed, it seemed as though he were about to do so, but,
-suddenly recollecting himself, desisted--perhaps because he knew that
-to us English such demonstrations were not palatable.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now I have to tell how Sir George placed no obstruction in the
-way, allowing him to go ashore with me; yet, when he heard that we
-were to travel together the look upon his face was one of extreme
-gravity, almost of sternness. Also, he maintained a deep silence for a
-moment or two after I had told him such was to be the case, and sat
-with his eyes fixed on me as though he were endeavouring to read my
-very inmost thoughts. But at last he said quietly, and with even more
-than usual of that reserve which characterised him:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have found out nothing about this young man yet, Mr. Crespin,
-then?--know nothing more about him than you have known from the first?
-Um?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know nothing more, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again he paused awhile, then spoke once more, with the slightest
-perceptible shrug of his shoulders as he did so:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very well. 'Tis your affair, not mine. You are not under my command,
-but that of the Earl of Marlborough. You must do as seems best to you.
-Yet have a care what you are about.&quot; Then he leant forward toward me,
-and said: &quot;Mr. Crespin, you have done extremely well--have gained a
-high place in our esteem. When his Lordship reads what the Duke of
-Ormond and myself have to say about you, you will find your promotion
-very rapid, I think. Do not, I beseech of you--do not imperil it in
-any way; do not be led away into jeopardising the bright future, the
-brilliant career, that is before you. Run on no rock, avoid every
-shoal that may avert your successful course.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir,&quot; said, &quot;I am a soldier with many unknown dangers before me. This
-boy can add nothing to their number. Yet, sir, for your gracious
-consideration for me I am deeply grateful.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Still he regarded me, saying nothing for a moment or so, then spoke
-again:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dangers!&quot; he said--&quot;the dangers every honest soldier or sailor
-encounters in his calling are nothing; they are our portion; must be
-avoided, if may be; if not, must be accepted. And he who falls in the
-battle has naught to repine at--at least he falls honourably, leaves a
-clean memory behind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But there are other dangers that are worse than shot, or steel--or
-death! Many a brave soldier and sailor has gone under from other
-causes than these. Mr. Crespin, I say no more--have, perhaps, said too
-much, were it not that you have strangely interested me.&quot; Then,
-abruptly, he went on, and as though with the intention of forbidding
-any more remarks on that subject: &quot;Captain Hardy shall be instructed
-to send you both ashore on the morning after we go out. Here are some
-papers from the duke and myself to the Earl of Marlborough. Be careful
-of them; they relate to you alone. I--we--hope they will assist you to
-go far.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I bowed and murmured my thanks, for which he observed there was no
-necessity whatever, then gave me his hand and said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Farewell, Mr. Crespin; we may not meet again. I wish you all you can
-desire for yourself. Farewell.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But he uttered no further word of warning of any kind, and so let me
-go away from him wondering blindly what it was he knew of this young
-man; wondering above all what it was against which he covertly put me
-on my guard.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Later on--though not for some time to come--I knew and understood.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span style="letter-spacing: 9px">
-* * * * * * * * *</span></p>
-
-<p class="normal">I found Juan--after the sails of the boat from the <i>Pembroke</i> had
-faded into little white specks upon the surface of the water, until
-they looked no bigger than the flash made by seagull's wing--found him
-outside the one and only inn of this small town, lolling against the
-doorpost--made dirty and greasy with the shoulders of countless
-Algarvian peasants--and amusing himself by trying to make a group of
-ragged children understand the pure Spanish he was speaking to them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, as he saw me crossing the filthy street, he came over to meet
-me--never heeding the splashing of mud administered to the handsome
-long boots which he had now upon his legs, though he was dainty, too,
-in his ways--and began telling me of what arrangements he had already
-made for our journey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;First, <i>mío amigo</i>,&quot; he said, joyously, &quot;about the horses. Two are
-already in command. One, a big bony creature which is for you, Mervan,
-because you also are big and stalwart, and require something grand to
-carry you--while for me there is a jennet with, oh! such a fiery eye
-and a way of biting at everything near it. But have no fear! Once I am
-on its back, and <i>por Diôs!</i> it will do as I want, not as it wants.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I laughed, then asked if these animals were to be our own.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, our own,&quot; he said. &quot;Our very own. I have bought them--they
-are ours. And, if they break down--yours, I think, must surely do
-so--why, we will turn them loose into the nearest wood, and--buy some
-more.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At this rate we shall spend some money ere we strike Flanders,&quot; I
-said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ho! Ho! Money--who cares for money! I have plenty, enough for you and
-me, too. We will travel comfortably, <i>mon ami</i>; have the best of
-everything. Plenty of money, and--and, Mervan, do you know, if it was
-not for one of the most accursed villains who ever trod the face of
-the earth, I should be so rich that--that--oh! it is impossible to
-say. Mervan,&quot; catching at my arm with that boyish impetuosity of his
-which ever fascinated me; &quot;you are English, therefore you know all the
-English, I suppose. In Jamaica and Hispaniola and all the other
-islands we know everybody. Mervan, who is, or where is, James Eaton?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;James Eaton!&quot; I exclaimed, with a laugh at his innocent supposition
-that we were all acquainted with each other in England as they are in
-the Indies; yet 'tis true that he could not know that our capital city
-alone had so vast and incredible a population as half a million
-souls! &quot;James Eaton! Who and what is he? An officer? If so, I might,
-perhaps, know, or get to know, something of him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;An officer? Oh! yes, <i>por Diôs!</i> he is an officer--has been once. But
-not such as you or those brave ones we have just parted from. An
-officer. <i>Corpo di Bacco!</i> A villain, <i>vagamundo</i>, Mervan--a
-<i>filibustier</i>--what the English call in the islands a damned pirate.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph!&quot; I said. &quot;A friend of yours? Eh, Juan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A friend of mine? Ho! Yes. Mon Dieu! He is a friend. Wait--when we
-are in England you shall see how much I love my friend. Oh, yes! You
-shall see. When I take him by his beard and thrust this through his
-black heart,&quot; and he touched the quillon of the sword by his side as
-he spoke.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And is he the villain who has stolen your wealth?&quot; I asked, as we
-entered now the door of the inn, I nearly falling backward from the
-horrible odours which greeted my nostrils when we did so.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is the villain. Oh! 'tis a story. Such a story. You shall hear.
-But not now--not now. Now we will eat and drink and be gay.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But,&quot; I said, my curiosity much aroused, &quot;if he has stolen your
-wealth how comes it you are rich, as you say? Have you two
-fortunes--two sources of wealth?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; he replied, with his bright, sweet smile. &quot;Two fortunes--the
-one he stole, the other--but no matter for fortunes now. I have enough
-and plenty for myself--and, Mervan, for you if you want it. Plenty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I, too, have enough for present wants,&quot; I said. &quot;Quite enough.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Bueno</i>. <i>Bueno</i>,&quot; he said. &quot;Then all is well. And now to
-eat, drink and be gay until to-morrow. Then away, away, away to
-Flanders--anywhere, so long as we are together. Joy to-day, work and
-travel to-morrow. But, Mervan,&quot; and once more he placed his hand
-supplicatingly on my arm. &quot;Forgive. Forgive me. I--I have brought the
-viol d'amore.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4>
-
-<h5>&quot;IT IS WAR TIME! IF IT MUST BE, IT MUST.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">We were English gentlemen furnished with passports to enable us to
-travel through Spain--which might not be difficult, since there were
-likely to be as many English troops in that country as there were
-French, while one-half of the inhabitants wavered in their espousals
-of either us and Austria or Louis and Philip.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That, at least, was what we <i>meant to give</i> out if anyone in
-Portugal--and in Viana especially--should make it their business to
-ask us any questions, which, however, was not very likely to be the
-case; for, in this miserable hole--and miserable it was beyond all
-thought--there were none who could have any possible right to so ask
-us of our affairs, there being no consul of any country whatever in
-the place--and, for the rest, we were English. That was enough; we
-were English, come ashore from that great fleet whose deeds of the
-last few weeks had spread consternation for leagues around and on
-either side of Vigo, and whose topmasts were now very plainly visible
-a mile or so out from the shore; topsails, too, which would be
-conspicuous enough to all in Viana for another day or so, until the
-scouts returned with their news; and before this fleet had disappeared
-we should be gone, too--on our road to Spain, to France, to Flanders.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That road was already decided on--we were poring over the chart now
-upstairs in the sleeping room Juan had secured for me, he having
-another one for himself on the opposite side of the corridor--poring
-over it by the light of an oil lamp and the flames cast by a bright
-cork-wood fire which we had caused to be lit, since 'twas already very
-cold, it being now November.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We had resolved, however, that the great high road to France would not
-be the very best, perhaps, for our purpose--the road which, passing
-through Portugal into Spain at Miranda and Tuy, runs through
-Valladolid and Burgos up to Bayonne and France, for these towns were
-in the kingdoms of Leon and Castile, and here all were, we learnt, for
-Philip and France; but we knew also that with other parts of Spain it
-was no so. Away on the eastern shores, Catalonia and Valencia had
-declared for Charles of Austria and the allies. Nearer to where we
-were, namely, in Galicia, above Portugal, they wavered. Yet 'twas said
-now that they inclined toward us, perhaps because Vigo is in Galicia
-and, therefore, they had had a taste of how we could be either good
-friend or fateful foe. Certainly we had shown we could well be the
-latter!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; I said to Juan, my finger on the chart; &quot;this way will be our
-road. Across the frontier where the Minho divides the two countries,
-then up its banks to Lugo, and so through the Asturias to Biscay and
-Bayonne. That is our way, and, after all, 'tis not much farther than
-t'other. And safer, too. If Galicia leans to us, so may the Asturians.
-If not, we shall be no worse off than if we traversed Leon, Castile
-and Navarre.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Vogue la galčre!</i>&quot; cried the boy, who generally varied his
-exclamations from Spanish to French and French to English--whichever
-came uppermost--&quot;I care nothing. We shall be together, <i>mio amigo</i>;
-that's enough for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Together for a time,&quot; I put in; &quot;for a time. Remember, once we reach
-Flanders--if we ever do--which is more than doubtful--my service
-claims me. 'Tis war there, hard knocks and buffets for me--for you the
-first sloop or vessel of any sort that will run you over to the
-English coast.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, la, la!&quot; said Juan, &quot;'tis not come yet. We have a month, at
-least, together, and perhaps even then we will not part. This great
-soldier, this fierce captain you speak of, this English lord who
-contends with France--perhaps he will let me fight too. Give me--what
-is it you call it?--a pair of colours. Then we could fight side by
-side, Mervan, could we not?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I nodded and muttered: &quot;Perhaps,&quot; though in truth I thought nothing
-was more unlikely. In some way I had come to have none too great an
-opinion of the youth's courage or capacity for fighting, remembering
-how he had paled, nay, almost shuddered, at the sight of those poor
-dead ones floating in Vigo harbour; while for the &quot;pair of
-colours&quot;--well, there was plenty of interest being made on all sides
-by those of influence in England to obtain such things for their own
-kith and kin. There would be mighty little chance for this young
-stripling to be received into any regiment. Therefore I went on with
-our plans, saying, as I still glanced at the chart:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That must be the road. And from Lugo across the mountains to Baos,
-then to Elcampo, and so to Bilbao up to Bayonne. That is the way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To Lugo,&quot; he repeated, meditatively. &quot;To Lugo. Humph! To Lugo. That
-is the way they went, you know--Chateaurenault and his captains--when
-they fled from you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now I started when he said this, for I had, indeed, forgotten the
-slight rumour I had heard to that effect--forgotten it amidst all the
-excitement of the stirring times that had followed the battle and the
-taking of the galleons. Yet now the fact was recalled to my mind, I
-did not let it alter my determination, and after a moment's
-reflection, I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Still it matters not. They will not have gone that way for the same
-reason that we shall go it. On their road to France! Chateaurenault
-will not stay there, but rather push on to Paris to give an account of
-his defeat--make the best excuses he can to his master. Nor will he
-come back--an he does, he will find nothing here. His ships are sunk
-or being carried to England, and 'tis so with the galleons that are
-not themselves at the bottom of the ocean. 'Tis very well. To-morrow
-we set out for Lugo, take the first step on our road.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And on the morrow we did set out--amidst, perhaps, as disagreeable
-circumstances as could be the case.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For when we rose early the snow was falling in thick flakes; also
-'twas driven into our faces by a stiff northeasterly wind which
-brought it down from the Cantabrian mountains, and soon our breasts
-were covered with a layer of it which we had much ado to prevent from
-freezing on them, and could only accomplish by frequent buffets. Yet
-we were not cold, neither, since our horses were still able to trot
-beneath it--for as yet it lay not upon the roads, and we could thus
-keep ourselves warm. Yet, withal, we made some ten leagues that
-day--the animals under us proving far better than might with reason
-have been expected, judging by their lean and sorry appearance--and
-arrived ere nightfall at a small village--yet walled and fortified,
-because it lies close on to the Spanish frontier--called Valenza. And
-here we rested for the night, finding, however, at first great
-difficulty in being permitted to get into it, and, next, an equal
-trouble in obtaining lodgings in the one inn of the place.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also we learnt that it behooved us to be very careful when we set out
-next day, or we might find it impossible to enter Spain, which now lay
-close at hand, and separated only by the Minho from this place; or,
-being in, might find it hard to go forward.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For,&quot; said the host, a filthy, unkempt creature who looked as though
-he were more accustomed to attending to cattle in their sheds than to
-human beings, but who by great good fortune was able to speak broken
-French, &quot;at Tuy, where you must pass into Spain, they are rigourous
-now as to papers, letting none enter who are not properly provided.
-<i>Basto!</i> 'tis not a week ago that one went forward who was passed
-through with difficulty. And a Spaniard, too, though from the Indies.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;From the Indies!&quot; exclaimed Juan, with impetuosity. &quot;From the Indies!
-Why, so am I and--and this seńor,&quot; looking at me, &quot;both from the
-Indies. Therefore, we can pass also, I should suppose.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, for that,&quot; answered the man, &quot;I know not. Yet this old man went
-through, somehow. He had come up from the south--from Cadiz, as I
-think, or Cartagena, or the Sierras--in a great coach and four,
-travelled as a prince, had good provisions with him, and ho!--he gave
-me to taste of it!--some strong waters that made me feel like a
-prince, too, though the good God knows I am none!&quot; and he cast his
-eyes round the filthy room into which we had been shown. &quot;Also, he had
-his papers all regular; also,&quot; and here he gave a glance at us of
-unspeakable cunning, &quot;he was generous and open-handed. That spared him
-much trouble.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps 'twill spare us, too!&quot; again exclaimed Juan. &quot;We can also be
-generous and open-handed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will do much. Yet the papers! The papers! Have you the papers?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, we had no papers whatsoever that would stand us in such stead;
-therefore, when we were alone together in the room which was to be
-ours, and in which there were two miserable, dirty-looking beds, side
-by side, covered with sheepskins for coverlets--and perhaps for
-blankets, too!--we fell to discussing what must be done; for it was at
-once plain and easy to see that at Tuy we should never get through. I
-had no papers nor passports whatever, while Juan bore about him only
-those which proved that he was a subject of England.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet,&quot; said he, &quot;they knew not that on board <i>La Sacra Familia</i>, and,
-because I could speak Spanish as well as they, deemed me a Spaniard. I
-wonder if I could get through that way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>You</i> might, possibly,&quot; I replied. &quot;I am sure I never should. The
-Spanish which I know is scarce good enough for that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis true,&quot; he said, reflectively--&quot;true enough. Yet, you have the
-French. See, Mervan, here is an idea. I am a Spaniard and you are a
-Frenchman, for the moment. Both countries are sworn friends now as
-regards their government, if not their people. Why should not we be
-travelling together as natives of those lands?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;An we were,&quot; I answered, &quot;we should not be without passports.
-Remember, we come to them from Portugal; therefore, to have gotten
-into Portugal as either Spanish man or Frenchman, we should have
-wanted papers; and we have none. Consequently, the first question
-asked us will be, How got we into Portugal? Then what reply shall we
-make? That we came from the English fleet, which has just destroyed
-their galleons? That will scarce do, Juan, for our purpose, I think.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Acknowledging such to be the case, Juan sat himself down on the dirty
-bed and began to ponder.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At least we will not be whipped,&quot; he muttered, &quot;and at the
-outset, too. Mervan, we must find another road somehow, or, better
-still--there must be some part of the frontier which runs the northern
-length of this miserable land, and which is unguarded. Can we not get
-across without any road? Up one side of a mountain and down another,
-and so--into Spain!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis that I have thought of. Yet there are the horses--also a river
-to cross. And, as luck will have it, the mountains hereabouts are none
-too high nor dense with woods, nor do they run from east to west, but
-rather south and north. Such as there are, you can see from this
-window,&quot; and I pointed in the swift, on-coming darkness of the
-November evening to where they could be seen across the river, their
-summits low, and over them a rusty rime-blurred moon rising.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juan, we must tempt the landlord with some of that <i>largesse</i> which
-the old man who came in the coach seems to have distributed so
-lavishly--only, he has bestowed it on the Spanish side--ours must
-begin here. Come, let us go and see what can be done with him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But what to do?&quot; the boy said, looking at me with his strange eyes
-full of intelligence and perhaps anxiety.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This: there must be some way of traversing the river when there is no
-town on either side--if the worst came to the worst we could swim it
-on our horses at night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;On such a night as this!&quot; exclaimed Juan, shuddering and glancing out
-through the uncurtained window at the flakes of snow which still fell.
-&quot;It would be death,&quot; he whispered, shuddering again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are easily appalled,&quot; I said, speaking coldly to him for the
-first time since our acquaintance. &quot;Yet, remember, I warned you of
-what you might expect in such an expedition as this. You would have
-done better to accept the admiral's offer. A cabin in the <i>Pembroke</i>
-would have been a lady's withdrawing room in contrast to what we may
-have to encounter.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forgive me. Forgive,&quot; he hastened to say pleadingly. &quot;Indeed, indeed,
-Mervan, I am bold and no coward--but, remember, I am of the tropic
-south, and 'tis the cold of the river that appalls me--not fear for my
-life. Like many of our clime, I can sooner face death than
-discomfort.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There will be enough facing of both ere we have done--that is, if we
-ever get farther than here,&quot; I said, almost contemptuously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So be it,&quot; he exclaimed, springing to his feet and evidently bitterly
-hurt by my tone. Indeed, 'twas very evident he was, since the tears
-stood in his eyes. &quot;So be it. We face it! Now,&quot; and he rapped the
-table between us as though to emphasise his words, &quot;continue your
-plans, make your suggestions, bid me swim rivers, cross mountains,
-plunge into icy streams or burning houses, and see if I flinch or draw
-back again. Only--only,&quot; and his voice sank to its usual soft tones,
-&quot;do not be angry with me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That it was impossible to be angry with him long I felt, nor, for some
-unexplained reason, could I despise him for his evident objection to
-discomfort--the discomfort which would arise from so trifling a
-thing--to me, a cuirassier--as swimming one's horse across a river on
-a winter night. And, as my contempt, such as it was, vanished at once
-at his plea to me not to be angry with him, I exclaimed:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At worst it shall be made as light for you as may be, since you are
-only a boy after all! And if that worst comes,&quot; I continued, in a good
-natured, bantering way, which caused the tears to disappear and the
-smiles to return, which brought back to my mind a song my good old
-father used to sing about &quot;Sunshine after Rain&quot;--&quot;if that worst comes,
-why, I will swim the river with you on my back, and your jennet shall
-swim by my horse's side. Now, for the landlord!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We found that unclean personage a-sitting over a fair good fire, which
-roared cheerfully up a vast open chimney from the stone floor upon
-which the logs were, with, by his side, a woman who was blind, as we
-saw very quickly when she turned eyes on us which were naught but
-white balls with no pupils to them. And, because we at once perceived
-that there was no power of sight in those dreadful orbs, I made no
-more to do, but, slipping of my finger into my waistcoat pocket,
-pulled out two great gold doubloons--worth more than our guineas--and
-held them up before him. Then I said in French, and speaking low,
-because I knew not whether that stricken one might understand or not:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See, this will pay our addition and more. Now listen. You may equally
-as well have them as the <i>guarda frontéra</i> at Tuy. Will you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He nodded, grasping the pieces--I noticed that he kept them from
-clinking against each other, perhaps because he wanted not his wife to
-know that he had gotten them--then put each into a different pocket,
-and said: &quot;She understands not the French. Speak.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We have no papers. Listen; we are English! We must cross into Spain,
-Tell us some other road; put us in the way, and--see--to-morrow
-morning, these are for you also.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I took forth two more of the golden coins.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He looked at us a moment, then said: &quot;You--hate--Spain?&quot; Again I
-nodded.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So all of us here at Valenza,&quot; he went on. &quot;A fierce, cruel neighbor,
-would trample on us because we are weak. Will seize us yet an England
-helps not. Crush them--and France--the world's plague! Listen!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, as we bent our heads, he went on: &quot;From here there is a bye-road
-leads to the river bank; it crosses by a wooden bridge into Spain, a
-league this side of Melagasso. I will put you in the way in the
-morning. Once over that bridge, there is a road cut from the rock that
-mounts two hundred paces. There at the summit is the <i>guarda
-frontéra</i>. Two men are there, an old and a young one. Kill them, and
-you are through, leaving no trace behind. Afterward, there is no sign
-of life for three leagues.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Kill them!&quot; I exclaimed. &quot;Must that be done?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay--or silence them. But--killing is best. And--and--the cliff is
-high, the river runs deep beneath. Cast them in, and you are safe.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They may see us passing the bridge--kill <i>us</i> ere we can mount the
-road.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do it in the night,&quot; the fellow whispered. &quot;In the night, when all is
-dark. And 'twill be almost nightfall ere you are there. Do it then.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no other way, no other entrance to Spain?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;None--without papers.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good. It is war time! If it must be, it must.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4>
-
-<h5>&quot;DRAW SWORDS!&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Another night had come--'twas already dark--and Juan and I sat on our
-horses in the cork wood, at the end of which we could hear the Minho
-swirling along beneath the ramshackle bridge that divided Portugal
-from Spain. And, as good fortune would have it, there was on this, the
-Portuguese side, no <i>guarda frontéra</i> whatever. Perhaps that poor,
-impoverished land thought there was naught to guard from ingress, also
-that nothing would be brought from Spain to them. The traffic set all
-the other way!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Because there was no need for us to be too soon where we were now;
-indeed, because 'twas not well that we should be here ere nightfall,
-the landlord had not awakened me until nine in the morning. And then,
-on his doing so, I perceived that the other sheepskin-clad bed by my
-side had not been occupied at all. Wherefore I started up in some
-considerable fright, calling out to him through the door to know where
-was my friend, the young seńor, whom I had left warming himself at the
-great fire below over night, and saying that he would follow me to bed
-ere long.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! he is below,&quot; he replied. &quot;Has passed the night in front of the
-fire wrapped in his cloak, saying that 'twas there alone he could keep
-himself from death by the cold. He bids me tell you all is well for
-your journey, the horses fresh; also there is a good meal awaiting
-you&quot;; whereon I performed my ablutions, hurried on my garments and
-rapidly made my way to the public room below.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juan,&quot; I said, &quot;you should have warned me of your intention of
-remaining below. This is not good campaigning, nor comradeship. Had I
-awakened in the night and found you missing, I should have descended
-to seek for you, fearing that danger had come to you, and 'tis not
-well for travellers to be aroused unnecessarily from their beds on
-winter nights. Also we should keep always together. Soldiers--and you
-have to be one now!--on dangerous service should not separate.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forgive,&quot; he said, as, it seemed, he was always saying to me, and
-uttering the words in his accustomed soft, pleading voice. &quot;Forgive.
-But--oh! Mervan!&quot; pausing a moment as though seeking for some excuse
-for having deserted me for the night--&quot;oh! Mervan! that bed was so--so
-filthy and untempting. And the room so cold, when without fire. And it
-was so warm here. I could not force myself to leave this room.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Remembering what he had said about those who came from the tropics
-dreading cold and discomfort even more than death, I thought I
-understood how he should have preferred sleeping here to doing so
-above. Therefore, I merely said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There might be worse beds than that you would not use--may be worse
-for us ere long. Still, no matter. You slept warm here as I did
-upstairs. Yet 'tis well I did not waken. Now let us see for breakfast
-and our departure,&quot; and giving a glance at the landlord, who was
-bringing in a sort of thick soup in which I saw many dried raisins
-floating, also some eggs and coarse black bread, as well as some
-chocolate which smelt mighty good and diffused a pleasing aroma
-through the room, I tapped my waistcoat pocket to remind him of the
-other doubloons that were in it. And he nodded understandingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The journey to where we now stood this evening was as uneventful as
-though we had been traveling in safety in our own England. The road
-into which the man had put us in the morning led first of all through
-countless villages--I have since heard that in all Europe there is no
-land so thickly sown with villages as this poor one of Portugal--then
-trailed off into a dense chestnut-fringed track that was no longer a
-road at all.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now we knew that we were close unto the spot where our first
-adventure on the journey, that we hoped might at last bring us to
-Flanders, must of necessity take place. We were but half an hour's
-ride from the crazy bridge the man had spoken of as connecting his
-country with Spain--the bridge on the other side of which was the
-rocky path, with, at the top of it, the hut in which we should find
-two Spanish <i>guardas frontéras</i> armed to the teeth and prepared to bar
-the way to all who could not show their right to pass.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet we were resolved to pass--or leave our bodies there.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is,&quot; the landlord had said, &quot;a holy stone at the spot where the
-path leading to the bridge enters the cork wood. You cannot mistake
-it. Upon that stone is graven the Figure, beneath it an arrow pointing
-the way to Melagasso. Your path lies to the left and thus to the
-bridge. God keep you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We left that stone as he had directed, with one swift glance
-upward at those blessed features--I noticing Juan crossed himself
-devoutly--slowly over fallen leaves that lay sodden on the earth
-beneath their mantle of snow, and over dried branches blown to the
-earth, our horses trod. And so for a quarter of an hour we pursued our
-way, while still the night came on swifter and swifter until, at last,
-we could scarce see each other's forms beneath the thick foliage above
-our heads.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet we heard now that swirling, rushing river--heard its murmur as it
-swept past its banks, and its deep swish as it rolled over what was
-doubtless some great boulder stone out in the stream--heard, too, its
-hum as it glided by the supports of the bridge that we knew was before
-us. Also, we saw above our heads a light gleaming--a light that we
-knew must come from the frontiermen's house.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And we had to steal up to where that light twinkled brightly, in what
-was now the clear, frosty air, since the snow had ceased--indeed, had
-not fallen all day--and all was clear overhead; to steal up, and then,
-if might be, make our hasty rush past on our horses' backs, or stay to
-cross steel and exchange ball with those who barred our way.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forward to the bridge!&quot; I whispered to Juan, fearing that even from
-where we were my voice might be borne on the clear night air up to
-that height. &quot;Loosen, also, your blade in its sheath! And your
-pistols, too--are they well primed?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; he whispered back, his voice soft and low as a woman's when she
-murmurs acknowledgment of her love. &quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You do not fear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I fear nothing--we are together,&quot; and, as he spoke, I felt the long,
-slim, gloved hand touch mine.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A moment later we had left the shadow of the wood; we stood above the
-sloping bank of the river rushing by; another moment and our horses'
-feet would be upon the wooden bridge--its creaking quite apparent to
-our ears as the stream swept under it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis God's mercy,&quot; I whispered again to him, &quot;that the river is so
-brawling; otherwise the horses' hoofs upon these boards would be heard
-as plain as a musket's roar. Ha! I had forgotten!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forgotten what, Mervan?&quot; the gentle voice of Juan whispered back.
-&quot;Forgotten what?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If they should neigh! If there should be any of their kind up there!&quot;
-and as I spoke, as the thought came to me, I felt as though I myself
-feared.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Pray God they do not; yet, if they do, it must be borne.&quot; And now I
-noticed his voice was as firm as though he had experienced a hundred
-such risks as this we were running. Then he added: &quot;The Indians muffle
-theirs with their serapes when they draw near a foe. Shall we do
-that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; I answered, &quot;'tis too late. Let's on. Yet, remember, at the
-slowest pace. Thus their hoofs will fall lighter.&quot; And again I
-exclaimed: &quot;Thank God, the river drowns their clatter!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, a moment later, and I had cause for further rejoicing. From above
-where that light twinkled there came a sound of singing--a rich, full
-voice a-trolling of a song, with another voice joining in.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Or was there more than one voice joining in? If so, we might have more
-than the old man and the young one, of whom the landlord had spoken,
-to encounter. Almost directly Juan confirmed my dread.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There are half a dozen there,&quot; he said, very calmly. &quot;I know enough
-of music to recognise that. What to do now?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To go on,&quot; I answered. &quot;See, we are across the bridge--there is the
-road--in another moment we shall be ascending the path. Praise heaven,
-we can ride abreast.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And in that other moment we were riding abreast slowly up that path,
-the snow that lay on it deadening now the sound of the horses' hoofs,
-while the voices within helped also to silence them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know the song,&quot; Juan whispered--and I marvelled at his
-calmness--his! the youth's who had been so nervous when there was
-naught to fear, yet who now, when danger was close upon him, seemed to
-fear nothing--&quot;have sung it myself. 'Tis 'The Cid's Wedding.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twill not be songs about weddings that they will be engaged on,&quot; I
-said, &quot;if any come out of that hut during the next ten minutes; but
-rather screeches of death--from us or them. Have your sword ready,
-Juan, also your pistols.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are ready,&quot; he said. &quot;Yet what to do? Suppose any come forth ere
-we are past the door, over the frontier. Am I to ride straight through
-them--are we to do so?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay. Sit well down in your saddle, give your nag his head, and--if any
-man impedes your way, stand up in your stirrups, cut down straight at
-him, or, if yours is not a cutting sword, thrust straight at the
-breast of--Ha!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">My exclamation--still under my breath, since my caution did not desert
-me--was caused by what now met our eyes, namely, the opening of some
-door giving on to the road in front of where the frontier cabin stood;
-the gleaming forth into that road of a stream of light, and then the
-coming out from the hut and the mingling of some four or five figures
-of men in the glare.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, when this happened, we had progressed up the hillside road
-two-thirds of the way, so that we were not more than seventy paces, if
-as much, from where those people were; yet, as I calculated, even at
-this nearness to them, we might still, if all went well, escape
-discovery. For we were under the shelter of the shelving rock which
-reared itself to our left hands, and not out in the middle of the
-road, which was here somewhat broad; and, therefore, to the darkness
-of the night was added the still deeper darkness of the rock's
-obscurity. And, I reflected, 'twas scarce likely any would be coming
-our way from this party, which was evidently breaking up, since the
-Portuguese and Spaniards did not, I thought, fraternise very much.
-'Twas not very probable any would be returning our way. Consequently,
-I deemed that we were safe, or almost so; that, soon, some of those in
-the road would take themselves off, and would leave behind in the hut
-none but the old man and the young man of whom the landlord had
-spoken. Nay, more, a glance down the road in the direction of where we
-were would, in the darkness of the night, reveal nothing of our
-whereabouts. And I conveyed as much to Juan by a pressure of my hand,
-yet leaning forward, too, over to his side and whispering:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All the same, be ready. It may come to a rush. If one of our horses
-neighs or shakes itself--so much as paws the earth--if a bridle
-jangles--we are discovered.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And a glance from those bright eyes--I protest, I saw them glisten in
-the darkness of the starlit night!--told me that he had heard and
-understood. Told me, also, that he was ready. After that--after those
-whispered words of mine, that responsive glance of his--we sat as
-still as statues on our steeds, hardly allowing our breath to issue
-from our lungs--watching--watching those figures.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">God! would they never separate? Would not some depart and the others
-retire into the cabin and shut the door against the cold wintry night?
-Offer us the opportunity to make one turn of the wrist on our reins,
-give one pressure of our knees to the animals' flanks and dash up the
-remains of the ascent and past the hut ere those within could rush out
-and send a bullet after us from fusil, gun or musketoon?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At last they gave signs of parting--we heard the <i>buenas noches</i> and
-the <i>adiós</i> issuing from those Spanish throats; we saw two of the
-men--their forms blurred and magnified in the outstreaming rays of the
-lamp--clasp each other's hands; we knew that they were saying farewell
-to one another. And then--curse the buffoon!--and then, when they had
-even parted and two had turned toward the door to re-enter, and the
-others had taken their first steps upon the road forward--then, I say,
-one of these latter turned back, made signs to all the others, and,
-when he had fixed their attention, began to dance and caper about in
-the road, imitating for the benefit of his friends, as I supposed,
-some dance or dancer he had lately seen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From the lips of my doubtless high-strung companion there came a
-long-drawn breath; almost I could have sworn I heard the soft murmur
-of a smothered Spanish oath; and then once more those whom we watched
-parted from each other--the buffoonery was over, the imitation, if it
-was such, finished. Again, with laughs and jokes, they broke up and
-separated.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Our chance is at hand, at last!&quot; I whispered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Was it?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The others--those going away--had disappeared round a bend of both
-rock and road; the two left behind were retiring into their house
-when, suddenly, the last one stopped, paused a moment, put up his hand
-to his head as though endeavouring to recall something, then put out
-his other hand, seemed to grasp a lantern from inside the door, and,
-slowly, began a moment later to descend the road where we sat our
-steeds.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now we were discovered beyond all doubt; in a moment or so he
-would perceive us; another, and he would challenge us; would shout
-back to his comrade in the hut--perhaps call loud enough to attract
-the attention of his departing friends. We should be shot down, our
-horses probably hamstrung, we brought to earth, prisoners or dead.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Swords out!&quot; I said to Juan, &quot;and advance. Quick, put your horse to
-the canter at once; ride past him--over him if need be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A moment later and we had flashed by the astonished man, the jennet
-that bore Juan springing up the hill like a cat, my own bony but
-muscular steed alongside; behind us we heard his roars; an instant
-after the ping of a bullet whistled by my ears, fired at us by the
-other one in the hut as we advanced; another moment and he was
-out in the road, endeavouring to swing a wooden gate, that hung
-on hinges attached to the cabin, across the road. Also, which was
-worst of all, we heard answering calls from the men who had gone on
-ahead--tramplings and shouts--we knew that they were coming back to
-help.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But we were at the gate now, and still it was not shut, there wanted
-yet another yard or so ere its catch would meet the socket post, and,
-shifting my reins into my sword hand, I seized its top bar,
-endeavouring to bear it back by the combined weight of my horse and
-myself upon the man striving to shut it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I heard the fellow at the gate call out something of which I
-understood no word, heard Juan give a reply with--who would have
-believed it of him at this moment--a mocking laugh; heard the word,
-<i>Inglese</i>; knew intuitively that he had told them who and what we
-were, and had defied them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And also, as I divined all this, I saw that the other men had
-returned, had reached the gate and were lending their assistance to
-aid in its being barred against us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was war time, as I had said before; I took heart of grace in
-remembering this, and I set to work to hew my way, even though I
-killed all who opposed me, toward the distant goal I sought. One
-brawny Spaniard who, even as he lent his whole weight to the gate,
-drew forth a huge pistol, I cut down over those bars, he falling all
-a-heap in the road; another I ran through the shoulder; and I saw the
-steel of Juan's lighter sword gleam like a streak of lightning betwixt
-the upper and the second bar; I heard the third man who had come back
-give a yell of pain as it reached him, while a pistol he had just
-fired fell to the ground--he falling a moment later on top of it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now there was but the original man left at the gate, and still it
-was not shut! Wherefore I brought the whole strength and power of my
-body to force it back so that there should be room for us to pass.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, even as I did so, I had to desist, for from behind, I heard Juan
-shout:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan, Mervan, help me!&quot; and on looking round I saw that the jennet
-was riderless. Saw also, that he was down, that the man who had begun
-to descend the hill was wrestling with him on the ground, and that, as
-they struggled together, both were rolling over toward the lower part
-of the precipice or rock side, which hung perpendicularly above the
-swift flowing river.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE FIRST FIGHT.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">In a moment I, too, was off my horse--had tied it and the jennet's
-reins together--and had flung myself on the man--a big, brawny fellow
-who had one arm around Juan's body while, with his disengaged hand, he
-felt for a knife in his girdle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Even as I did so I saw that they were both perilously near the edge of
-the rock which hung over the river, that in a few more moments both
-must have gone over it--over and down, crashing through bushes and
-shrubs until they fell into that rapid stream below, or were hurled on
-to the timbers of the crazy bridge, with, probably, their bones broken
-all to pieces.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, small as was the space left in which a third man might intervene,
-be sure I lost no time in doing so, in flinging myself upon that
-muscular Spaniard and in tearing him off his prey. Seizing him by
-the collar of his jacket, one hand around his throat, I dragged him
-from the boy--for I was as muscular as he, and, maybe, younger,
-too--wrenched him to his feet and sent him reeling back into the road.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Catch the horses,&quot; I said to Juan, &quot;quick. And mount yourself. Be
-ready. Once I have disposed of this fellow there remains none but the
-one at the gate.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, although the lad tottered as he rose to his feet, he did as I
-bade him, and, securing the animals, which had but backed a few paces
-down the road, got into his saddle again. Then he said--though
-faintly: &quot;I will go forward and dispose of the remaining man.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet there was still this one to be disposed of--and I understood at a
-glance that I had no easy task before me ere I could do so.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He was a fellow of great bulk--this I could observe in the light of a
-watery half moon that now peeped up over the bend of the rock by where
-the cabin stood; also he was well armed. In his hand he held now a
-long cavalry sword, which he had drawn from its steel scabbard with a
-clash even as he staggered back against the rock; with his other hand
-he fumbled at the silken sash around his waist, in which was the knife
-he had endeavoured to draw against Juan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In God's mercy, he had no pistol!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He muttered some hoarse words--to me they conveyed little--yet no
-words were needed. I knew as well as though he had spoken my own
-tongue that one of three things must happen now: That great inch-deep
-blade either buried in my heart or my head cleft open with it, or my
-straight English weapon through and through him!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then we set to it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As animals which are bereft of speech fight, so we fought now--only
-more warily. For they fly at each other's throats, in a moment are
-locked in each other's grasp, their fangs deep in the other's flesh.
-It was not so with us. We had not to come too close, but rather to
-guard and feint, to avoid each other till the moment, the one critical
-and supreme moment, came. Thus we began.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At first, perhaps, because of the deadly weight of his blade--better
-for cut than thrust--he aimed twice at my head, and tried again a third
-time, then jumped back with another of his--to me--unintelligible hoarse
-and raucous exclamations; for, at that attempt, I had quickly--ay! and
-easily, too--parried the blow, had disengaged my weapon, and, with a
-rapid thrust, had nearly struck home--had missed the inside of his ribs
-by an inch only. Then knew that the next time I should not fail.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Curse you,&quot; I muttered, &quot;if I could speak your <i>patois</i>, I'd tell you
-that you are doomed.&quot; While to myself I said: &quot;He is a clumsy fool,
-and--he is mine.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We had turned in these passadoes, as I drove him back; so, too, I had
-edged him round. Now, 'twas I who had the rock behind me, 'twas he who
-had the declivity of the lower precipice behind him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And he knew it as well as I--saw in a moment all that this meant,
-and--endeavoured to turn again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet he never had the chance. Trust me for that!--as my recollection of
-the daily lessons in the fence school at Hounslow, which for a year
-Dutch William's best <i>ferrailleurs</i> had taught me ere my father got my
-guidon for me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He never had the chance! Yet he strove hard for it, too; proved that
-Spain made no bad choice when she sent him to this frontier post;
-strove hard to beat me round again, to bring my back in the position
-his was--to the lip of the plateau--and failed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">If I could have spoken to him in his <i>patois</i>--for 'twas scarce
-Spanish--if I could have made him understand, if he would have
-discontinued his contest with me, I would have spared him, and
-willingly; would have bidden him let me go in peace, and be saved
-himself. For he was a brave man; too good a one for the doom that must
-now be his. Yet he forced me to it, forced me to go on, ceased not for
-one instant his swinging blows and thrusts, forced me to parry and
-thrust in turn for my own salvation--to drive him back step by step to
-the brink of the precipice behind him. And, now, it was not five paces
-behind him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">His was the danger--I wondered if he knew it--yet mine the horror.
-Above the clashing of our swords I heard now the dull, hoarse roaring
-of the river below, heard its angry swish as it struck past the
-timbers of the bridge below--in my desire to save him I told him madly
-in my best Spanish to desist--to save himself. Also, I think, he saw
-upon my face some look of horror at the fate that must be his, some
-beads of sweat, perhaps, upon it, too--I know I felt them there--saw
-them, and--God help him!--misunderstood them. Misunderstood, and
-thought my look of horror, my sweat, were for my own safety.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With a leap, a roar, he came at me again like a tiger springing at its
-prey, his blows raining upon my sword; almost I thought that even now
-he would have borne me to the earth, have conquered. And I thrust
-blindly, too, in desperation, knew that my blade was through his arm,
-saw him jump back, stagger--and disappear!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And up from below where he had last stood there came a scream of awful
-fear and terror, the branches and the bushes crashed, there was a thud
-upon the water a hundred feet below--and then nothing more but the
-swirl of the river and its hoarse murmur as it swept along.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It had not taken much time in the doing. A moment later I was running
-up the road to where the gate stood, swung back now so that the road
-was clear. And Juan was sitting on his horse, a pistol in his hand,
-and in the road, standing beneath him, his hands by his side, stood
-the last remaining man, dreading to move, palsied with fright, and
-speechless.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What shall we do with him?&quot; the youth asked, turning on me a face in
-which there was now left no vestige of that brilliant colour it had
-once borne. &quot;What? Kill him?&quot; and his eyes flashed ominously, so that
-I knew the lust for blood was awakened.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; I said. &quot;Nay. There is no need for that. Bind him and lock him
-up here in his hut. That will do very well. Also, he is old. What of
-these others?&quot; and I turned to those who lay in the road.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As I looked at them, it seemed that none were hurt to death--for which
-I was thankful enough, since a soldier needs but to disable his enemy,
-and seeks not to take life needlessly. The one whom I had first cut
-down seemed to have but a scalp wound--doubtless the thick, coarse hat
-of felt he wore had turned my blade; he whom I had run through the
-shoulder had but a flesh wound, which would trouble him for some weeks
-at most; while the fellow whom Juan had pinked had got an ugly gash in
-the neck.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We will put them all in here together,&quot; I said, pointing to their
-hut, &quot;then leave them. Doubtless they will be relieved in some hours.
-Yet the longer ere it happens the better. We must press on and on till
-we are well clear of this part of the world. There will be a hue and
-cry.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After saying which, I proceeded to drag the wounded men in--one of
-them was able to enter the place unaided, though not without many
-melancholy groans and ejaculations--and then motioned to the old man
-to follow.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now, obeying me even as I so pointed to the door, he cast an
-imploring glance at Juan, and then muttered something to him, the boy
-answering him with a laugh. And on my demanding to know what he had
-said, my companion replied:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He saw you take up the lamp. Therefore he asked if you were going to
-burn them all when they were locked in the hut.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph!&quot; I said. &quot;It has not quite come to that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Time was, however, precious now, therefore it was useless for us to
-remain here any longer, or to waste any more of it; whereon, again
-taking up the lamp, I carried it out into the road. Then I removed the
-key from where it hung by the side of the door, and, going out, locked
-them all inside.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now,&quot; I said, &quot;they can remain there till some one comes by to set
-them free. Yet, if that some one comes across from Portugal, and our
-late landlord speaks truth, they will be in no hurry to do that
-friendly office for them.&quot; After which I blew out the lamp, and,
-walking to the edge of the under precipice, hurled both it and the key
-down into the river beneath.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For some time after we had set out upon our journey again we rode in
-silence, Juan being as much occupied, I supposed, with his thoughts as
-I with mine. And, indeed, my own were none of the pleasantest; above
-all I regretted that that brave man with whom I had fought had gone to
-his doom. For, although killing was my trade, and although I had
-already taken part in several skirmishes and fights, I had none too
-great a liking for having been obliged to slay him. Yet I consoled
-myself with the reflection that it was his life or mine, and with that
-I had to be content. But also there were other things that troubled
-me, amongst them being what I feared would prove certain, namely, that
-there would be that hue and cry after us of which I had spoken for
-some time at least, and until we had left the frontier far behind.
-Nor, since Lugo was but a short distance from this place, would it be
-possible for us to stop there even for so much as a night's rest. We
-must go on and on till we had outstripped all chance of being
-recognised as the two men who had forced themselves into a hostile
-country in the manner we had done.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now, breaking in on these reflections, I heard Juan's soft voice
-speaking to me, murmuring words of admiration and affection.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan,&quot; he said, &quot;if I liked you before--ay! from the very moment
-you stood outside the cabin door of <i>La Sacra Familia</i> and bade me
-unlock it, and when the first sound of your voice told me I had naught
-to fear--I love you now. My life upon it! you are a brave man, such as
-I delight in seeing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I laughed a little at this compliment, yet soberly, too, for this was
-no time for mirth--also, I recognised clearly enough that every step
-the animals beneath us took brought us nearer to other dangers, by the
-side of which our recent adventure was but child's play--then
-answered:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And what of yourself, Juan? You have done pretty well, too, I'm
-thinking; go on like this, and you will be fitted to ride stirrup to
-stirrup with the most grim old blades of Marlborough's armies when we
-get to Flanders--if we ever do! I thought you nervous, to speak solemn
-truth; now I am glad to have you by my side.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet,&quot; said the boy, his face radiant with delight, as I saw when he
-turned it on me under the rays of the moon, &quot;I was deathly sick with
-fear all the time. Oh! my God!&quot; he cried suddenly, &quot;what should I have
-done, what become of me, if you had been struck down?&quot; Then added,
-anxiously, a moment later. &quot;You are not wounded?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not a scratch. And you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor I, either. Yet I was so faint as I guarded that old man by the
-gate, that I doubted if I could sit the horse much longer; I should
-have fallen to earth, I do verily believe, had you not joined me when
-you did.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor lad,&quot; I said, &quot;poor lad. You have chosen but a rough road, a
-dangerous companion. You should have gone to England in the
-<i>Pembroke</i>, with the fleet. You would have been half way there by now,
-and in safety.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never!&quot; he said. &quot;Never!&quot; And, as if to give emphasis to his words,
-he turned round in his saddle toward me, placing his left hand on the
-cantle as though to obtain a steady glance of my face, and continued.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I told you we were friends, sworn friends and true. Also, that to be
-together was all that I asked. Mervan, our friendship is rivetted,
-bound, now; nothing but death or disaster shall part us--nothing; till
-at least, this journey is concluded. Then--then--if you choose to turn
-me off you may; but not before. You have not yet learnt, do not know
-yet, what a Spanish--a--a man reared amongst Spaniards feels when he
-swears eternal friendship.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After which he regained his position and rode on, looking straight
-between his horse's ears. But once I heard him mutter to himself,
-though still not so low, either, but what I heard it very well:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Friendship. <i>Diôs!</i>&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And this warm, fervent youth, this creature full of emotion and
-glowing friendship, was him against whom the admiral had expressed
-some distaste when he learned that I proposed to ride in his company;
-had doubted if that companionship might not be of evil influence over
-my fortunes during the journey. If he knew nothing, what did it all
-mean? I asked myself. Above all (and this I had pondered on again and
-again, though without being able to arrive at any answer to the
-riddle), why warn me against one whom he, when brought into contact
-with that one himself, had treated with such scrupulous deference?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Even as I thought again upon these things I resolved that as our
-acquaintance, our friendship and comradeship ripened, I would ask Juan
-who and what he was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For at present I knew no more than I have written down--that he was
-young and handsome, and was well to do. But beneath all, was there
-some mystery attached to him? Some mystery which the older and more
-far seeing eyes of Sir George had been able to pry into and discover,
-while mine were still blinded to it?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We were passing now through a wild and desolate region, a portion of
-the western extremity of northern Spain, in which we met no sign of
-human life or human habitation, hardly, indeed, any sign of animal
-life. Also we had struck a chain of mountains densely clothed with
-cork and chestnut woods, the trees of which were bare of leaves, and
-through the branches of which the wind moaned cheerlessly. On our left
-these mountains, after an interval of barren moorland, rose
-precipitously; to our right the Minho rolled sullenly along, the road
-we traversed lying between it and the moor. So desolate, indeed, was
-all around us now that we might have been two travellers from another
-world journeying through this, a forgotten or undiscovered one; no
-light either far or near twinkled from hut or cottage, neither bark of
-dog nor low of cattle reached our ears; all was desolate, silent and
-deserted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, even as the road lifted so that we knew we were ascending those
-mountains step by step, we observed signs which, added to the well
-kept state of the road itself, told us it was not an altogether unused
-one. For though the snow lay hard and caked upon it, we could observe
-where it had taken the impression of cart wheels and of animals'
-hoofs, could perceive by this that it was sometimes traversed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, presently, we observed something else, something that told us
-plainly enough that we were now in the direct way for Lugo, observed
-that there branched into the road we were travelling an even broader
-one than it--causing, too, our own road to broaden out itself as it
-ran further north; a road in the middle of which was a huge stone
-column or pedestal, with arms also of stone upon it, pointing
-different ways, and with, carved on them, words and figures.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And of these arms one pointed west and bore upon it the words: To
-Vigo; another pointed north with, on it, the words: To Lugo.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And seeing all this by the aid of a tinder box and lantern which we
-carried amongst our necessaries--seeing it, too, by craning our necks
-and standing up in our stirrups--we knew that we had now struck the
-route along which those must have come who had fled from Vigo after
-the taking of the galleons.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4>
-
-<h5>MY GOD! WHO IS HE?</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">All that night we rode, yet slowly, too, for the sake of the horses,
-and in the morning--which broke bright, clear and frosty, the sun
-sparkling and shining gaily amongst the leafless branches and trees of
-the forests through which we passed--reached a little town, or
-village, about half way 'twixt the frontier and Lugo, a place called
-Chantada, and not far from another town named Orense, which, because
-it had a large population--as we gathered from a sight of its roofs
-and spires, all a-shining in the morning sun, as we could see very
-well from the mountains as we passed along them--we avoided. Also, we
-avoided it because it lay not so much upon our direct route, by some
-three or four leagues, as Chantada itself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, come what may,&quot; said I to Juan, as we drew near this place, &quot;and
-even though we should be pursued from the border--which is not very
-like--we must stop here for some hours. We require rest ourselves; as
-for the beasts, they must have it; otherwise they will have to be left
-behind and others found. And that would be a pity--they are better
-than might have been looked for!&quot; As, indeed, they were, especially
-considering the haphazard manner in which we had come by them, both
-having kept on untiring on the road, while, as for the jennet which
-Juan bestrode, it was, possibly because of his light weight, as fresh
-as on the hour we set out.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, turning to him, I said, even as I noticed that he showed no
-signs of fatigue--at which I marvelled somewhat!--and that his
-handsome face was as bright and full of colour as it had ever been:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You must be a-weary, Juan? Three or four hours' sleep will do you a
-world of good. And you shall have it, my lad, even though I sit at
-your door with a drawn sword in my hand to prevent interruption.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As usual, he smiled that gracious, winsome smile upon me--a smile
-which was always forthcoming in response to any simple little kindness
-I evidenced to him--and said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I could ride on for hours thus--feel no fatigue. Maybe 'tis the
-brightness of the morning that heartens me so; perhaps the crisp
-coolness of these mountains--Heavens! how different 'tis from aught we
-know of in the Indies!--that makes me insensible to it! Yet, Mervan,&quot;
-and he gave me a glance from his eyes, under the dark and now
-dishevelled curls that hung almost over them, &quot;there is one thing I
-long to do now. Mervan, do not refuse. I have earned the right!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is it, child?&quot; I asked, wondering what strange request he might
-be about to prefer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let me sing and play a little. 'Twill do no harm, and--and--you
-know--the viol is here,&quot; and he touched lightly the valise strapped in
-front of his saddle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sing, if you will,&quot; I said, yet casting a glance around and ahead of
-me to see if there were any about whose curiosity might be attracted
-by the music--though in sober truth it would not much have mattered
-had there been. In such a land as this--though I scarce knew it
-then!--for a traveller to pass along on his way singing for
-cheerfulness and for solace was no strange thing, but rather, instead,
-the custom. &quot;Sing, if you wish--I shall be glad enough to hear a merry
-note or so. For audience, however, there will be no other.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I want none,&quot; he replied, &quot;if you are content.&quot; And by now, having
-got out the little viol d'amore, he struck a few notes upon it and
-began to sing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At first his song was, as I understood and as he told me afterward, a
-love-ballad addressed by a youth to his mistress; the words--as he
-uttered them--soft and luscious as the trill of the nightingale on
-summer night. And his marvellous beauty added also to the effect it
-had on me, made me wonder how many dark, tropic beauties in the lands
-he came from had already lost their hearts to him. Nay, wondered so
-much that, as the last sweet tones of both his voice and viol died
-upon the crisp morning air, I asked him a question to that effect.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ho! Ho!&quot; he laughed, yet softly as he had just now sung. &quot;None! None!
-None! In the Indies I am nothing; all are as dark as I except when
-they are golden--fair--and--and--Mervan, <i>mon ami</i>, no woman has ever
-said a word of love to me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph!&quot; I said, doubting. &quot;Nor you, perhaps, a word of love to them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor I a word of love to them. Never, never. <i>Le grand jamais!</i>&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor ever loved?&quot; with a tone of doubt so strong in my voice now that
-he could not fail to understand it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor ever loved,&quot; he repeated. &quot;Yes--yes--I love now. Now!&quot; Then,
-impetuously, as he ever spoke--like a torrent let loose from mountain
-side--he went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Love! Love! Love! With heart and soul, and brain on fire. Love! so
-that for the creature I adore--have learnt to worship, I would--ah!
-what would I not do? Cast my body beneath that creature, plunge
-through fire or water--Oh!&quot; he exclaimed, breaking off as suddenly as
-he had begun, &quot;Oh! I am a fool! A fool! A fool!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But, surely,&quot; I said, &quot;surely, with such as you are, that love does
-not go unrequited. If you have spoken to the object of this passion,
-told of this love you say you bear--and are believed--it must be
-returned. Such love as yours would not be simulated, must therefore be
-appreciated.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Simulated!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;Simulated. It cannot be simulated, not
-assumed like a mountebank's robe ere he plays a part. Any one can
-paint a flame, any tawdry daubster of an inn signboard, but not even
-Murillo himself could paint the heat. And my love is heat--not--not
-flame.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the lady? The lady?&quot; I asked almost impatiently. &quot;Surely she
-does--she must--return this love.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Volatile as he was, and, changing his mood again in a moment, he
-looked slyly at me under the dark locks, twanged the viol again and
-burst into another song, different from the one he had but recently
-finished, the song which I had previously known him to sing:</p>
-<pre>
-
- "Oh! have you heard of a Spanish lady,
- How she wooed an Englishman?"
-
-</pre>
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am an Englishman now, you know, Mervan,&quot; interrupting the song.
-Then going on:</p>
-<pre>
-
- "Garments gay and rich as may be,
- Decked with jewels, she had on."
-
-</pre>
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did she woo you, then?&quot; I asked, as he paused a moment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For answer he sang again:</p>
-<pre>
-
- "As his prisoner fast he kept her,
- In his hands her life did lie;
- Cupid's bands did tie them faster
- By the twinkling of an eye----"
-
-</pre>
-<p class="normal">He stopped abruptly and pointed ahead of him with the little viol,
-then wrapped it up again in his valise and said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See, <i>amígo</i>, there is the village--what was its name cut on the
-pedestal? Now what are we? Eh? And whence come we if any questions are
-asked?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are a young Spanish gentleman,&quot; I said, repeating a lesson I had
-hitherto in our ride tutored him in, &quot;from Vigo. I am a Frenchman. We
-are on our way to Bayonne to join the French forces. Also, we neither
-of us know English.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Bon, pas un mot</i>,&quot; he replied, catching me up brightly. &quot;<i>Et nous
-parlons Anglais comme une vache parle Espagnol. N'est-ce fas, mon
-ami?</i>&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>C'est ça. En avant</i>,&quot; I replied, and with a laugh we each touched
-our horses with the heel and cantered down into the village of
-Chantada.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas a poor place enough for any travellers to see, consisting of a
-long, but very wide street, with a fountain in the midst of a wide
-open square, around which there lay a number of grunting swine--lean
-and repulsive--and also some score or so of geese, all basking in the
-morning sun.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet next in importance to the church, which was on one side of this
-<i>plaza</i>, was that which we most sought for, an inn, and, perhaps
-because of the road being one of importance 'twixt both Portugal and
-Vigo to France, it was a large, substantial-looking house, long, and
-with many rooms on either side the great porte, as well as in the two
-stories beneath its sloping and serrated Spanish roof; also, it looked
-prosperous--a huge gilt coronet hung out over the unpaved street. For
-name it had painted along all its front, the words &quot;Taverna Duquesa
-Santa Ana.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Under the great archway we rode in, seeing that in a vast courtyard
-there stood a travelling coach on which, although there were no horses
-attached to it, some baggage was still left piled up beneath some
-skins; hearing also the stamping of several horses in their stables.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ask,&quot; said I to Juan, speaking in French--as agreed between us, there
-was to be no more English spoken unless we were certain no ears could
-overhear us--&quot;ask if we can be accommodated for some hours, say, until
-night. Then we must resume our journey. Ask that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Obedient to my behest, the youth turned to a man who came out from the
-door giving entrance to the inn itself and, in Spanish, made his
-demand, whereupon the fellow, after bowing politely, said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is ample accommodation for--for more--alas!--than travel these
-roads.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, because I addressed a word or so in French to him, he continued
-in that language, which, however, he had exceedingly badly:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Messieurs will stay here till night, then push on to Lugo? <i>Bon</i>,
-they will be there by morning. So! So! Yes, in verity, they can have a
-good meal. There are geese, fowls, meat, also some wine of excellence.
-Messieurs may refresh themselves in all ways.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Our horses put in the stable, therefore, we sat down half an hour
-later in a vast <i>sala</i>--in which a great banquet might have been given
-with ease--to a dish of veal, a fowl, and an <i>olla-podrida</i>, all of
-which would have been good enough had they not been flavoured so much
-with garlic that--to my taste, at least--all pleasure was destroyed;
-also we had some most excellent chocolate and some good spirituous
-liquor to follow--at which latter Juan turned a wry face. Then
-ordering another meal to be ready ere we set out--with strict
-injunctions that the flavouring should on this occasion be omitted--we
-betook ourselves to the rooms above, where we were to get a few hours'
-rest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, as we passed along the whitewashed corridor, the windows of which
-gave on to the stable yard, the travelling coach standing there caught
-our eyes, and I said to the host:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have at least some one else here besides us. Some great
-personage, I should suppose, by his equipage,&quot; and I directed my
-glance to where the great carriage was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ho!&quot; said the man with the true Spanish shrug of the shoulder, which
-is even more emphatic than the French one, more suggestive, as it
-seems to me; &quot;a personage of wealth, I should say, but no grandee--of
-Spain, at least.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of what land, then?&quot; I asked. &quot;And why a personage of wealth, yet no
-grandee?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! well, for that,&quot; the man said, with again the inimitable shrug,
-&quot;his deportment, his conduct is not that which our nobility permit
-themselves. Though I know not--perhaps it may be so--he is a nobleman
-of--well--possibly, England. He drinks heavily--name of a dog! but he
-drinks like a fiend, <i>un enragé</i>--cognac, cognac, cognac--also he
-sings all the night, sometimes so that even the fowls and the dogs are
-awakened, also all our house. Yet he pays well--very well!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Doubtless,&quot; I replied, quietly, &quot;an English nobleman. Such is their
-custom, according to the ideas of other nations. Well, let us to
-rest,&quot; whereon Juan and I turned each into a room which the landlord
-indicated, and, so far as I was concerned, I slept calmly and
-peacefully until awakened by him at three of the afternoon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, when I descended to where our other repast was prepared for us,
-which would probably be the last one of a substantial nature which we
-should be likely to get ere reaching Lugo, I found Juan there walking
-up and down the great <i>sala</i>, his sword swishing about against his
-left leg as he turned backward and forward petulantly. Also, I could
-see that something had ruffled his usually sweet disposition--that
-his colour was a little higher than in general, and that the soft
-velvet-looking eyes were sparkling angrily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, what is it?&quot; I asked, even as the landlord brought in the first
-cover, &quot;what is it, my boy? You are ruffled.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be very sure I am!&quot; he exclaimed, speaking rapidly, and of course in
-French, so that the man heard and understood all he said. &quot;I have been
-insulted----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Insulted!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At least rebuffed, and rudely, too; and by, of all men, a filthy
-blackamoor--a--a--<i>por Diôs!</i>--a slave! Oh! that I had him in the
-Indies! He would insult no white one again, I tell you!&quot; and he
-fingered the hilt of his weapon and stamped his shapely foot on the
-uncarpeted floor till his spurs jangled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come,&quot; I said, &quot;you can afford to despise the creature. How did it
-happen?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Happen! Happen!&quot; Juan replied, still angry. &quot;How?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Monsieur saw the black man preparing the luggage on the great coach,&quot;
-the landlord said, as he removed the dish-cover from a course of pork
-and raisins, &quot;and asked which way his master went. And the fellow was
-surly, rude--said that was their business, not the affair of
-strangers. Also, they sought no companions, if--if the young seńor
-meant that----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who never offered our company,&quot; Juan broke in again. &quot;Curse him! I
-wish I had him in the Indies!&quot; he repeated.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come,&quot; I said again, &quot;come. This is beneath you, Juan--to be angry
-with a slave! As well be vexed with a dog that yaps and snaps at you
-when you go to pat it. Sit down and eat your meal. We have a long ride
-before us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Perhaps he saw some sense in my suggestion, for he flung himself into
-a chair and began to eat; and meanwhile the host, who was still
-hovering about, handing us now a dish of mutton dressed with oysters
-and pistachio nuts, and now some stewed pomegranates, chattered away
-at one side, telling us that the negro's master was not well--that he
-had been drinking again; but yet he was determined to set out at once.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Though,&quot; said he, &quot;but an hour before the caballeros rode in he had
-resolved to stay until to-morrow. I know not why he has changed his
-mind so swiftly. Oh!--the drink, the drink, the drink!&quot; and he wagged
-his head.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That the dissolute man whom the landlord considered to be, in
-consequence, an English nobleman, was about to depart there could be
-no possibility of doubt. From where we sat at table, and because
-curtains to the windows seemed to be things of which those who kept
-the inn had never thought, we could see out into the courtyard quite
-plainly. Saw first the horses brought out--four of them--and harnessed
-to the huge, lumbering vehicle--the nobleman would have proved himself
-a kinder-hearted man if he had used six!--saw their cloths taken off
-their backs by the postillion, and observed the latter make ready to
-mount the near side leader. Also we saw the <i>facchinos</i> on ladders
-strapping tight the baggage which had been brought down and hoisted on
-top, then heard the landlord, who had now left serving us to attend to
-his parting guest, give orders that the noble traveller should be
-informed that all was ready for his departure. Upon which we quitted
-our seats at the table and walked over to the window, Juan's curiosity
-much excited at the chance of seeing this drunken English <i>milor</i>, as
-he called him. We had not long to wait. For presently we heard a
-considerable trampling on the stairs and some mumbled words--to my
-surprise the deep, guttural tones seemed familiar!--and then we saw a
-wrapped figure carried out between two of the <i>facchinos</i> and lifted
-up into the carriage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And behind that figure walked a negro, his head also enveloped in a
-rich red shawl--as though the black creature feared the cold night
-air, forsooth!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But, even as they lifted the debauched man into his carriage, the
-wrappings about his face became disturbed and fell back on his
-shoulders, so that I could see his face--and I started as I did so.
-Started even more, too, when, a second later, I heard Juan exclaim in
-a subdued voice:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God, who is he? Almost I could swear----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">While in my excitement I interrupted him, saying:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That an English nobleman! That!--Why, 'tis the drunken old ruffian
-who came from Rotterdam with me in the ship.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And his name? His name?&quot; Juan asked, breathlessly. &quot;His name?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;John Carstairs.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Even as I spoke the postillion cracked his whip, and the great
-carriage rolled out of the courtyard, the lamps twinkling and
-illuminating our faces as it passed before the window. Showed, too, as
-they flashed on Juan's face, that he was once more deathly pale and
-all his rich colouring vanished--as I had seen it vanish more than
-once before.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>BETRAYED.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;His name is Carstairs? Humph!&quot; Juan said to me when the last sound of
-the wheels had died away, and we no longer heard the rumbling of the
-great Berlin upon the stones of the roughly paved street outside.
-&quot;Carstairs!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is the name under which he was entered as a passenger in the
-papers of <i>La Mouche Noire</i>,&quot; I answered. Then continued, looking at
-the boy as a thought came to my mind. &quot;Why! have you ever seen him
-before, Juan, or have you any reason to suppose it is anything else
-than Carstairs?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For the thought that had come to me, the recollection which had
-suddenly sprung to my mind, was the memory of the words Captain Tandy
-had used when first we discussed the old man. &quot;'Tis no more his name
-than 'tis mine or yours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also I recalled that he had said, after meditation, that he was more
-like to have been one Cuddiford than anybody else.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now it seemed as though this stripling who had become my
-companion, this boy whose years scarce numbered eighteen, also knew
-something of him--disbelieved that his name was Carstairs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think,&quot; I went on, &quot;that it is something else? Cuddiford,
-say?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; he replied. &quot;Nay. Not that. Not that. I have heard of
-Cuddiford, though. I think he was brought to London and tried.
-But--but--oh!&quot; he exclaimed, breaking off, &quot;it cannot be!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What cannot be?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If,&quot; he said, speaking very slowly, very gravely now, &quot;if it were not
-eight years since I last set eyes on him, when I was quite a child; if
-he had a beard down over his chest instead of being close shaven, I
-should say, Mervan, that this was the ruffian I have come to England
-to seek; the villain who robbed me of the fortune my father left
-me--the scoundrel, James Eaton.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;James Eaton!&quot; I exclaimed. &quot;The man you asked me about; thought I
-might be like to know?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The same.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Had he, this Eaton, been a buccaneer? for I make no doubt
-that man has.&quot; I said. &quot;The captain of <i>La Mouche Noire</i> thought
-so--and--and--his ravings and deliriums seemed to point that way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know not,&quot; Juan said. &quot;Eaton was a villain--yet--yet--I can scarce
-suppose my father would have trusted him with a fortune if he had
-known him to be such as that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who was your father, Juan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I--I,&quot; he answered, looking at me with those clear starry eyes--eyes
-into which none could gaze without marvelling at their beauty--&quot;I do
-not know.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You do not know!--yet you know he bequeathed a fortune to you and
-left it in the man Eaton's hands.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan,&quot; he said, speaking quickly, &quot;you must be made acquainted with
-my history--I will tell it you. To-night, when we ride forth again;
-but not now. See, our horses are ready, they are bringing them from
-the stables. When we are on the road I will tell you my story. 'Twill
-not take long. Come, let us pay the bill, and away.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will pay the bill,&quot; I said; &quot;later we can regulate our accounts.
-And as you say, we had best be on the road. For if that old man has
-seen me, or if his black servant has done so--it--it--may be serious.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Serious!&quot; he repeated. &quot;Serious! For <i>you</i>, my friend?&quot; And as he
-spoke there was in his voice so tender an evidence that he thought
-nothing of any danger which could threaten him, but only of what might
-befall me, that I felt sure, now and henceforth, of the noble,
-unselfish heart he possessed. &quot;Oh! not serious for you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay,&quot; I replied. &quot;Ay. Precious serious! Remember, he knows I went
-ashore in Lagos bay, that I sailed in the English fleet to Vigo. What
-will happen, think you, if he warns them at Lugo that such a one as
-I--an Englishman--who assisted at the taking of the galleons, is on
-the road 'twixt here and there?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God!&quot; the boy exclaimed, thrusting his hand through the curls
-clustering over his eyes--as he always did when in the least excited.
-&quot;It might mean----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Death,&quot; I said, &quot;sharp and swift; without trial or time for shrift;
-without----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But--whether he be Eaton--or--Carstairs--he is English himself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, and so he is.&quot; I answered, &quot;But be sure he has papers--also he
-can speak Spanish well, will doubtless pass for a Spaniard. Also,
-unless I am much mistook, had a cargo in one of those galleons--for
-what else has he followed up here? For what--but the hopes of getting
-back some of the saved spoil which has been brought to Lugo? That
-alone would give him the semblance of being Spanish--would earn him
-sympathy. Meanwhile, what should I be deemed? A spy! And I should die
-the spy's death.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What then to do next?&quot; Juan asked, with a helpless, piteous look.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is but one thing for <i>me</i> to do,&quot; I replied. &quot;One thing alone.
-As I told you ere we set out from Viana, my task is to ride on
-straight, unerringly, to my goal--on to Flanders, through every
-obstacle, every barrier; to crash through them, if heaven permits, as
-Hopson crashed through that boom at Vigo--to reach Lord Marlborough or
-to fall by the wayside. That is my duty, and I mean to do it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan! Mervan!&quot; he almost moaned.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis that,&quot; I went on. &quot;But--think not I say it unkindly, with lack
-of friendship or in forgetfulness of our new found <i>camaraderie</i>--for
-you the need does not exist.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hear me, I say, Juan. I speak but for your safety. For you there is
-no duty calling; the risk does not exist. You are free--a traveller at
-your ease.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Silence!&quot; he cried--his rich, musical voice ringing clear through the
-vast <i>sala</i> in the midst of which we now stood once more; and as he
-spoke he raised his hand with a gesture of command. &quot;Silence, I say!
-By the body of my dead and unknown father, you do not know Juan
-Belmonte. What! Set out with you and turn back at the first sign of
-danger, and that a danger to you alone! Oh!&quot; he exclaimed, changing
-his tone again, emotional as ever. &quot;Oh! Mervan, Mervan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I spoke but for your sake,&quot; I said, sorry and grieved to see I had
-wounded him. &quot;For that alone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then speak no more, never again in such a strain. I said I would
-never quit your side till Flanders is reached; no need to repeat those
-words. Where you go I go--unless you drive me from your side.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now it was my turn to exclaim against him, to cry: &quot;Juan! you
-think I should do that!&quot; Yet even as I spoke, I could not but add:
-&quot;The danger to you as well as me may be terrible.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No more,&quot; he said. &quot;No more. We ride together until the end
-comes--for one or both of us. Now, let us call the reckoning and
-begone. The horses are there,&quot; and he strode to the window and made a
-sign to the stable-man to be ready for us. Yet ere the landlord came,
-he spoke to me again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Remember,&quot; he said, &quot;that beyond our <i>camaraderie</i>, of which you have
-spoken--ay! 'tis that and more, far more--beyond all this, I do
-believe the old man whose face I saw as the great lamps shone full
-on it is James Eaton. I have come to Europe, to this cold quarter of
-the world, to find him. Do you think with him not half a league ahead
-that I will be turned from the trail? Never! I follow that man to
-Lugo--since his beard is gone I cannot pluck him by that, but I can
-take his throat in my hands, thrust this through his evil heart,&quot; and
-he rapped the quillon of his sword sharply as he spoke. Then added:
-&quot;As I will. As I will.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You do not think he has recognised you, too? Seen you, though unseen
-himself, while we have been in this house, passing through these
-passages and corridors? as I doubt not either he saw me, or that negro
-of his.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He thought a moment after I said this, then suddenly emerged from his
-meditation and laughed a bright, ringing laugh, such as I had learnt
-to love the hearing of.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; he replied. &quot;Nay,&quot; and still he laughed, &quot;He has not--could not
-recognise me. No! No! No! When I present myself to him he--will--he
-will be astonished.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And once more he laughed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What a strange creature it was, I thought. As brave as a young lion;
-as emotional and variable as a woman.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In answer to our pealing at the bell, to our calls also, the
-landlord came in at last, not hurrying himself at all, as it seemed
-to us, to bring the bill. Indeed, we had observed him, as we looked
-forth from the window, engaged in a conversation with two of the
-townspeople--shrouded in the long cloaks which Spaniards wear--their
-heads as close together as if they were concocting a crime, though,
-doubtless, talking of nothing more important than the weather.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The bill,&quot; I said, &quot;the bill. Quick. Our horses await us, and we have
-far to ride.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay,&quot; he replied. &quot;Ay,&quot; and flinging down a filthy piece of paper on
-the table, added: &quot;There is the bill&quot;; and he stood drumming his
-fingers on the table while I felt for the coins with which to pay it.
-Yet, even as I did so, I noticed that the fellow's manner was quite
-changed from what it had been hitherto. His obsequiousness of the
-morning had turned to morose surliness, which he took no trouble to
-conceal. And, wondering if Juan, who was standing by, fastening his
-spur strap, had observed the same thing, I glanced at him and saw his
-eyes fixed on the man.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There are two pistoles,&quot; I said, flinging them on the table. &quot;They
-will more than pay our addition; give the rest to the servants.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay!&quot; he replied. &quot;Ay!&quot; but with no added word of thanks.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is't not enough?&quot; Juan asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is enough.&quot; Then he turned to me and said: &quot;You are riding to Lugo
-to-night?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is our road,&quot; I replied, feeling my temper mount at the man's
-changed manner. &quot;What of it? Does that route displeasure you, pray?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ho!&quot; he grunted; &quot;for that, it makes no matter to me.&quot; Then added:
-&quot;The horses are there,&quot; in so insolent a tone that I had a difficulty
-in restraining myself from kicking or striking him. But I remembered
-that, before all else, our safety had to be consulted, and that naught
-should be done to cause delay to our progress; wherefore, I swallowed
-my ire as best I might.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, as we rode out of the courtyard, I saw at once that Juan's own
-thoughts tended exactly in the same direction as mine, since he said
-to me:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That fellow has been told something by the old man--doubtless, that
-you are English--that we both are. <i>Por Diôs!</i> Suppose he has informed
-him that you were in the English fleet!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have no doubt that the man has been told so,&quot; I replied. &quot;But no
-matter. If it were not for you I should not care a jot.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then once more I saw the dark eyes turned on me, and wished that I had
-held my tongue--at least as regarded the latter part of my speech.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It seemed as if the town had gone to bed already. The great square was
-deserted--except that the geese and pigs were still in it, huddled
-together around the fountain, and severally cackled and grunted as we
-trotted by them; down the long street, as we rode, we saw no signs of
-any one being outside the doors.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, as we neared the extremity of both the town and the street, and
-came to where the latter ended off into a country road stretching
-along a dreary-looking plain, over which the moon had risen, we saw
-that such was not precisely the case. At the end of the street, that
-which was the last building was a little, low, whitewashed chapel;
-above its black door there was a figure in a little niche, with,
-burning in front of it, a candle in a miserable red-glassed lantern;
-and, feeble as were the rays cast forth from this poor, yet sacred,
-lamp, they were sufficient to show us three men on horseback, all
-sitting their steeds as rigidly as statues.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Judging by their long black cloaks and the tips of steel scabbards
-which protruded beneath them, and which were plainly enough to be
-seen, even in that dim, cloudy light, I imagined these men to be the
-town gendarmerie--though doubtless they had some other name to
-denominate them--and supposed this was a comfortable position which
-they probably selected nightly. Also, the position was at both an exit
-and an entrance to the place, therefore a natural one.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A fine night, gentlemen,&quot; one remarked, and next I heard him say
-something to Juan, which he replied to; in both of their remarks the
-name of Lugo being quite distinct to my ears. But, beyond this,
-nothing else passed, and, a few moments later, we were riding at a
-smart trot across the dreary, moor-like plain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They asked,&quot; Juan said, in answer to my question, &quot;if our destination
-was Lugo. That was all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So I thought I heard,&quot; I said. And added: &quot;Until we were past them I
-felt not at all sure they might not be on the lookout for us. Might,
-perhaps, intend to stop us. If Carstairs, or Eaton, or whatever his
-name is, blew upon me to the landlord, he would be as like to do it to
-the authorities also. However, we are in the open now, and all is well
-so far.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">By this time the moon was well up, and we could see the country along
-which we were riding; could perceive that 'twas indeed a vast open
-plain, with, however, as it seemed to me, a forest or wood ahead of
-us, into which the road we were on trended at last. Could see, too,
-the snow lying white all around, as far as the moor stretched, and
-looking beneath the moonbeams like some dead sea across which no ship
-was trying to find its way.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A mournful spot,&quot; I said to Juan, as, half an hour later, we had
-almost reached the entrance to the great forest, which we had observed
-drawing nearer to us at every stride our beasts took; &quot;'tis well we
-made a full meal ere we set out. We are not very like to come across
-another ere we reach Lugo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I spoke as much to hearten up my companion as for any other reason,
-since I feared that, in spite of his bravery and firm-fixed
-determination to never leave my side, he must be very much alarmed at
-the thoughts of what might happen to us ere we had gone many more
-leagues.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But, remarking that he made no answer to my idle words, I glanced
-round at him and perceived that his head was turned half way back
-toward whence we had come, and that upon his face was a look of
-intense eagerness--the look of one who listens attentively for some
-sound.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is it, Juan?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Horses' hoofs on the road behind us,&quot; he said, &quot;and coming swiftly,
-too. Hark! do you not hear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And even as he spoke I did hear them. Heard also something else to
-which my soldier's ears had made me very well accustomed: The clank of
-steel-scabbarded swords against horses' flanks.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is the men we passed by the chapel,&quot; I said, &quot;following us now.
-Yet, if 'tis us they seek, why not stop us ere we left the town? They
-could do as much against us there as here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They were but three then,&quot; the lad answered, calmly as though he
-were counting guineas into his palm instead of the hoof-beats of those
-on-coming horses; &quot;now there are more--half a dozen, I should say. If
-'tis us they follow, they have waited to be reinforced.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I felt sure that he had guessed right, since the very thought
-which he expressed had already risen in my own mind.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE SECOND FIGHT.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">We had entered the forest five minutes later, and be very sure, we
-wasted no more time in waiting for those behind to come up, since, if
-'twas us they followed, we might as well be in its shadow as in the
-open. For if we were outnumbered the trees themselves would afford us
-some shelter, make a palisade from behind which we might get a shot at
-them if 'twas too hot for a hand-to-hand encounter. At any rate, I had
-sufficient military knowledge to know that 'tis best to fight against
-unequal odds with a base, or retreat, to fall back on, than to be
-without one.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet as we rode into this forest I loosened my blade in its sheath, and
-felt with my thumb to see that the priming of my pistols was ready;
-also bade Juan do the same; likewise to keep behind me as much as
-might be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For,&quot; said I, &quot;if they mean attack I will give them no chance of
-beginning it. The first hostile word, and I force my horse between
-them, cutting right and left, and do you the same, following behind
-me. Thereby you may chance to take off those whom I miss.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I laughed--a little grimly, perhaps--as I spoke, for I thought
-that if there were, indeed, six men behind us, my journey toward
-Flanders was already as good as come to an end. Yet, all the same, I
-laughed, for, strange though it may seem to those who have never known
-the delights of crossed steel, a fight against odds had ever an
-exhilarating effect upon me; which was, perhaps, as it should be with
-a knight of the blade.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Juan, however, did not laugh at all, though he told me he would follow
-my orders to the utmost, and, indeed, was so silent that I asked him
-if his nerves were firm. To which he replied that I should see when
-the moment came.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now upon the crisp night air we heard the clang of those on-coming
-hoofs ringing nearer and nearer; a rough or deadened kind of sound
-told us the iron shoes were on the fallen leaves which covered all the
-track from where the wood began; the scabbards of the riders flapped
-noisily now against spur and horses' flanks; bridles jangled very
-near.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then they were close upon us--five of them!--and a voice called out:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Halt, there! You are Englishmen--one a sailor and a spy passing
-through the land.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You lie!&quot; rang out Juan's voice, in answer. &quot;We are not Englishmen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That his reply in fluent Spanish--the Spanish, too, of a gentleman,
-and not of a common night patrol--astonished them, I could see. The
-leader, he who had spoken, glanced round at his four comrades, and, an
-instant after, spoke again:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who are you, then, and why does not the big man answer?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He speaks French. I am Spanish. Molest us not.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Molest! <i>Cuerpo di Baco!</i> We are informed you are English. Produce
-your papers!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We have none. They are lost.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ho! ho! ho!&quot; the leader replied. &quot;Very well, very well. 'Tis as I
-thought. That man is English; he is denounced this night. As for you,
-the accursed English have many possessions wherein our tongue is
-spoken. We understand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And he gave, as I supposed, some order, since all advanced their
-animals a few paces nearer, while, as they did so, Juan whispered to
-me in the French: &quot;Be ready, but do nothing yet.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will return to Chantada with us,&quot; the spokesman said, sitting his
-horse quietly enough, yet with the blade of his drawn sword glistening
-in the moonbeams as it lay across the creature's neck--as, I observed,
-did the blades of all the others. &quot;That finishes our affair. For the
-rest you will answer to the Regidór.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We shall not return. Our way lies on.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So be it. Then we must take you,&quot; and, as he spoke, I saw a movement
-of his knee--of all their knees--that told me they meant to seize us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I knew that the time had come.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At them!&quot; cried Juan at the same moment. &quot;Advance, Mervan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A touch to the curb, and my beast fell back--'twas a good animal,
-that! had, I believe, been a charger in its day, so well it seemed to
-know its work--then a free rein and another touch of the heel, and I
-was amongst them, my sword darting like lightning around. Also, at my
-rear, came the jennet's head; near me there flashed the steel of
-Juan's lighter weapon; and in a moment we had crashed through
-them--they fell away on either side of us like waves from a ship's
-forefoot!--fell away for a moment, though closing again in an instant.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Return and charge!&quot; I cried to Juan, still in French. &quot;At them again!
-See, one has got his quietus already!&quot; As, indeed, he had, for the
-great fellow was hanging over his horse's neck, in a limp and listless
-fashion, which showed that he was done for. But now those four closed
-together as we went at them, Juan stirrup to stirrup with me in this
-second charge, and our tactics had to be changed. We could no longer
-burst through them, so that it was a hand-to-hand fight now; they had
-pistols in their holsters, but no chance to use them; they could not
-spare a hand to find those holsters--could not risk our swords through
-their unguarded breasts; wherefore we set to work, blade to blade.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We should have won, I do believe. Already I had thrust through and
-through one man's arm--as luck would have it, 'twas not the sword
-arm--already they backed before our rain of blows and cuts and
-thrusts, when, by untoward fate, my horse stumbled on the frosty road
-and came down; came down upon his haunches, slipping me from the
-saddle over the cantle and so to the earth; then regained its hind
-legs once more and dashed out from the fray.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now our position was mighty perilous. Above I saw Juan on the
-jennet fencing well with two of the men; over me were the two others
-cutting down at my head, though, since by God's mercy I had retained
-my weapon, their blows were up to now unavailing. Yet I knew this
-could not be for long--nor last--wherefore I cried:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Save yourself, Juan, save yourself; disengage and flee.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Under my own blade, under those two others that beat upon it so that I
-wondered it shivered not in my hand, I saw the boy manfully holding
-his own--once, too, I saw him rip up the jerkin of one of his
-opponents, and heard the latter give a yell of pain--then, &quot;Great
-God!&quot; I thought, &quot;what has happened now?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For there was a fifth man upon the scene. A man, tall and stalwart,
-mounted on a great, big boned, black horse, who had suddenly sprung
-from out a chestnut copse by the side of the track; a man in whose
-hands there gleamed a sword that a second later was laced and entwined
-with those attacking Juan; a man who hurled oaths in Spanish and
-French at them--I heard <i>carambas</i> and <i>por Diôs's</i> and other
-words--which sounded like the rolling of some great cathedral organ as
-they came from his deep throat--<i>tonneres</i>, <i>ventre-bleus</i> and
-<i>carrognes</i> I heard.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Heavens! who was this man who beat back those others as a giant might
-push back a handful of children; whose sword--even as with one hand he
-grasped Juan round the waist--went through an adversary's neck so that
-he fell groaning upon me, his blood spurting as if from a spigot? Who
-was he who laughed loud and long as, with one accord, all those still
-alive turned and fled back upon the road they had come? Fled, leaving
-us, thanks be to God and this new arrival, the victors of the fray.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He sat his horse calmly now, looking after their retreating figures,
-his great sombrero slouched across his face, wiping his blade upon the
-coal-black creature's mane; then, as their figures disappeared from
-our view, he said in French:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Warmer work this, Seńor Belmonte, than twanging viols and singing
-love songs, <i>n'est-ce pas?</i>&quot; and from his throat there came again that
-laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Glancing up, I saw that which caused me to start, even as I heard Juan
-say: &quot;You! You here! And in this garb!&quot;--saw that which made me wonder
-if I had gone demented. For this man who had so suddenly come to our
-rescue, this <i>fine lame</i> whose thrusts had won the fray for us, was
-none other than the monk I had seen on board <i>La Sacra Familia</i>, the
-holy man known there as Father Jaime.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And swiftly as I gazed up at him there came to my recollection old
-Admiral Hopson's suspicions as to having seen him before, also the
-imitation pass he had made across the table with the quill at his
-brother-admiral, and his words:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twas not always the cowl and gown that adorned his person--rather
-instead the belt and pistols--the long, serviceable rapier, handy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What did it mean?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ere he answered either Juan's startled enquiries or my stare of
-amazement, which he must very well have seen in the moon's rays as I
-regarded him, he cantered off after my horse, which was standing
-quietly in the forest side by side with that other animal on whose
-neck the first wounded man had fallen--he was now lying dead upon the
-ground!--and brought both back to where we were, leading them by their
-reins.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will want your horse, monsieur,&quot; he said, &quot;to continue your
-journey. <i>Bon Dieu!</i> you both made a good fight of it, though they
-would have beaten you had I not come up at the moment.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Believe us, we both thank you more than words can express,&quot; I said,
-while Juan sat his jennet, still breathing heavily from his exertions,
-yet peering with all the power of those bright eyes at the man before
-him, &quot;but your appearance is so different from what it was when last
-we met that--that I am lost in amazement. You were, sir, a holy monk
-then.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Cucullus non facit monachum</i>,&quot; he replied, in what I recognised to
-be very good Latin, then added, with a laugh: &quot;In journeying through
-dangerous places we are not always what we seem to be. To wit:
-Monsieur was either an English soldier or sailor when I saw him
-last--an enemy to Spain and France--hating both, as I should suppose.
-Yet now he is a private gentleman, and, I imagine, desires nothing
-less than that his real position should be known.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you--you,&quot; Juan interposed, &quot;you were monk from the first moment
-I set eyes on you, from the hour when we left Hispaniola. Are you not
-one?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My boy,&quot; he said, and as he spoke he touched Juan on the sleeve as
-they both sat their horses side by side--I being also mounted again by
-this time--&quot;my boy, I replied to your companion just now with a
-proverb. I answer you with another: 'Look not a gift horse in the
-mouth.' I have saved your life, at least, if not this gentleman's.
-And----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Juan stammering forth some words of regret for the curiosity he
-had shown, he stopped him with still another touch on the sleeve, and
-said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Briefly, let me tell this: I had reasons to be in Spain, to quit the
-Indies and accompany the galleons, get a passage by some means. It
-suited me to come disguised as a monk; there was no other way. For,
-rightly or wrongly, both Spain and France are my enemies; in my own
-proper character I could never have reached here. Being here, I am
-still in danger if discovered; to avoid that discovery I have now
-doffed the monkish garb, so that all traces of me are lost. Enough,
-however; I am on my road to Lugo. Does your way lie the same road?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We both answered that it did, whereon he said, speaking quickly and,
-as I noticed, in the tone of one who seemed very well used to issuing
-orders, as well as accustomed to deciding for himself and others:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So be it. Let us ride together--and at once. Every moment we tarry
-here makes our position more dangerous. Those men will no sooner have
-returned to Chantada than every available soldier will be sent forward
-to arrest us, even though we be in Lugo itself. You will be recognised
-without doubt if you stay an instant in the town. Your one chance is
-to get into it and out again as soon as may be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you?&quot; I asked, as now we put spurs to our horses and dashed along
-the forest track. &quot;And you? If any of those who were in this affray
-return with the soldiers you speak of, it will be hard for you, too,
-to escape recognition. Your form cannot be disguised.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will be disguised again,&quot; he answered very quietly, &quot;when I have
-once more resumed the monk's garb. I have it here,&quot; and he tapped the
-great valise strapped on his horse's back. &quot;It has not been worn since
-I got ashore at Vigo, and that's far behind this by many leagues.
-There are none here like to recognise me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You stay, then, in Lugo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I must stay. I have affairs.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He said this so decidedly that we neither of us ventured to ask him
-any more questions, though, a moment or two afterward, he volunteered
-to us the statement that, if another horse he had previously bought
-when he landed at Vigo had not broken down, he would long ere this
-have been in Lugo. Only the finding of a fresh animal--the one he now
-bestrode--had taken him some time, and thereby caused him to be late
-on his road, which, as we said gratefully enough, was fortunate for
-us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay,&quot; he replied, &quot;it was; and also that I was breathing my animal in
-the forest at the time those others overtook you. But, <i>nom d'un
-chou!</i> I have been a fighter in my day myself, and, since I could not
-see two men set upon by five, my old instincts were aroused; though,&quot;
-he added, with extreme <i>sang froid</i>, &quot;had it been an even fray, I
-might have left you to it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now it seemed to both Juan and myself as though this man's
-assistance to us necessitated us showing some confidence in him;
-wherefore, very briefly, we gave him some description of why we were
-travelling together, and of how, because Juan had naught else of much
-importance to do at the outset of his arrival in Europe, he had
-elected to be my companion as far as Flanders.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Humph!&quot; he exclaimed at this, &quot;he is a young knight errant, as I told
-him oft enough in the galleon, when he talked some rhodomontade about
-being on his way to Europe to seek out and punish a villain who had
-wronged him. Well, sir, even if he finds not the man, he is likely
-enough to meet with sufficient adventures in your company ere he
-reaches Flanders.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He thinks he has found him already,&quot; I said quietly, in reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What!&quot; and he turned his great eyes on both of us. &quot;Found him. Here
-in Spain!&quot; and he laughed incredulously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He thinks nothing of the kind,&quot; Juan cried hotly, roused more, I
-thought, by that scornful laugh than by my doubting words. &quot;He is sure
-of it!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And then he told the whole story of our having seen the old man's
-coach in the inn, of the black's insolent reply, of his departure at
-night, and of the little doubt there could be that he it was who had
-betrayed us to the people of Chantada; also he added:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I have him. Have him fast. He is but a league or so ahead of us,
-must stop some hours, at least, in Lugo. And then--then, James Eaton,
-look to yourself!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he uttered those words the black horse which the other bestrode
-plunged forward, pricked, as I thought, by some unintentional movement
-of the rider's spur, while that rider turned round in his saddle and
-gazed at Juan, his face, as it seemed to me, livid beneath the
-moonlight.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who? What name is that on your lips?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The name of a damned villain. The name of James Eaton.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;James Eaton. James Eaton--what is he to you, then? What evil has he
-done to you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What evil?&quot; Juan replied, with a bitter laugh. &quot;What evil? and what
-is he to me? Only this: He was left guardian to me by my dead father,
-and--and--he ill-treated and robbed me. No more than that!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You! You! You!&quot; this mysterious man said, his hand raised to his
-eyebrows, his dark, piercing eyes gleaming beneath that hand--upon his
-face a look I could not fathom. &quot;You!&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4>
-
-<h5>&quot;THE COWL DOES NOT ALWAYS MAKE THE MONK.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">We were drawing very near to Lugo now, as the wintry morning gave
-signs of breaking; already the great spurs and cańons of the mountains
-that flanked the east side of the river Minho began to shape
-themselves into something tangible and distinct from the dull clouds
-at their summits, and their peaks and crags to stand out clearly.
-Also, we noticed that villages were scattered about at the base of
-these mountains; observed lights twinkling in the windows of cottages,
-and passed a bridge which spanned the river and carried on a road that
-led from that east side to the western one; a road with, on it, a
-great pedestal of rock, serving, as others which we had passed had
-served us, as milestones and finger-posts; a road leading, as we
-learnt, from another Viana, different from the one in Portugal at
-which Juan and I had landed from the English fleet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We were drawing very near.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For the last two or three hours we had ridden almost in silence, knee
-to knee, all wrapped in our long cloaks, and with nothing breaking in
-upon that silence but, sometimes, the hoot of an owl from out the
-beeches and tamarisks which fringed the road, and sometimes the scream
-of an eagle far up in the mountains, roused, perhaps, from his eyrie
-by the clang of our animals' hoofs upon the hard-bound, frosty earth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet some words had been spoken, too, ere we lapsed into this silence;
-for, as our friend and deliverer had exclaimed, &quot;You! You!&quot; on hearing
-that James Eaton had robbed Juan of whatever might have been left in
-his care by the lad's dead father, Juan himself had quickly exclaimed:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is he known also to you, then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He was once, long ago--ay, long ago!&quot; Then he paused, as though
-unwilling to tell more, though, a moment later, he said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And now you think he is ahead of us?--that we shall find him in
-Lugo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Without doubt,&quot; Juan and I answered, both speaking together, while
-the former went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He must halt for some time in Lugo, if only to get a change of
-horses.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis my belief,&quot; I struck in, &quot;he will do more than that. Judging
-from what I learnt of him in the ship which brought us both from
-Holland, Lugo is his destination, the end of his journey.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wherefore?&quot; the man who had been &quot;Father Jaime&quot; asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because,&quot; I replied, &quot;he was on his way to Cadiz, where, he thought,
-as all did, that the galleons were going in. And he told me in a
-frenzy, when he learnt that the English fleet was about in those
-waters, that he had a fortune on board two of the galleons. Be sure,
-therefore, he would follow them up to Vigo as soon as he could, after
-being put ashore at Lagos and learning that much of the treasure had
-been set ashore and then forwarded on to Lugo----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Would follow them here?&quot; the other said. &quot;Ha! Well, then, we shall
-surely meet,&quot; and he laughed a little, very quietly, to himself. &quot;Must
-meet! And I--I shall have something to say to James Eaton--shall
-recall myself to him. He will be pleased to see me!&quot; and again he
-laughed--though this time the laughter sounded grimly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I also shall have something to say to him,&quot; exclaimed Juan. &quot;To----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Recall yourself to him also,&quot; the other broke in.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps,&quot; the boy replied, &quot;perhaps. We shall see, though it may not
-be just at first.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At first,&quot; said the other, taking him up, &quot;let me present myself. I
-assure you 'twill be best. Let me put in my claim to his attention.
-Then you can follow suit.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I,&quot; I exclaimed, speaking now. &quot;I, too, have something to settle
-with Mr. James Eaton, if that be his name. I owe it to him that my
-journey to Flanders has been interrupted by that scene upon the road,
-owe it to him that I ran a very fair chance of never continuing that
-journey further than a couple of leagues this side of Chantada.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I believe, too, that it was he who drew the attention of a French ship
-of war to the vessel which was carrying me and my intelligence to
-Cadiz, as then supposed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How?&quot; asked the ex-monk, &quot;and why?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The reason wherefore,&quot; I replied, &quot;might be because he suspected my
-mission in some way. The manner in which he let the French ship know
-of our whereabouts was probably by leaving open the dead light of his
-cabin when he lay drinking, while all the others were closed so as to
-avoid her. Oh! be sure,&quot; I continued, &quot;when you two have done with him
-I shall have an account also to make.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We are three avengers,&quot; the other replied, with still that grim laugh
-of his. &quot;James Eaton will have other things to think of besides
-getting back his treasure at Lugo, if it is there; for, when Seńor
-Belmonte and myself and you have finished with him--sir,&quot; he said,
-breaking off and regarding me, &quot;I do not know your name, how to
-designate you. What may it be?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My name,&quot; I replied, &quot;is Mervyn Crespin. May I ask by what we are to
-address you? At present, at least, you do not style yourself 'Father
-Jaime,' I apprehend.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; he said. &quot;Nay--not until I don the cowl again. But, see, none
-of us, I should suppose, are desirous of travelling through this
-hostile country, entering this town of Lugo, which may bristle with
-dangers to all of us, under our right names. Therefore--though even
-thus 'tis not desirous that these names should be spoken more often
-than needs--I will be Seńor Jaime. There are Jaimes for second names,
-as well as first.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And,&quot; exclaimed Juan, entering at once into the spirit of the matter,
-&quot;there are Juans for second names as well as first, also. Therefore I
-will be Seńor Juan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I,&quot; I said, &quot;since I pretend to speak no Spanish, but am supposed
-to be a Frenchman, will be Monsieur Crespin. That is a French name, as
-well as English. There are scores of Crespins in Maine and Anjou--'tis
-from there we came originally. 'Twill do very well.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So, this understanding arrived at, we rode on afterward in that
-silence which I have told you of.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now it was full day, cold, crisp and bright, with the sun topping
-the mountains to our left and sending down fair, warm beams athwart
-the river, which served to put some life into us, as well as a little
-extra heat besides that which the motion of our horses and the glow of
-their bodies had hitherto afforded us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also, we had left the forest now and entered a great plain which
-rolled away to the west of those mountains, and of the river which
-brawled and splashed at their base; a plain that in summer was,
-doubtless, covered with all the rich vegetation for which the north of
-Spain is famed, but that now stretched bare as the palm of a hand, and
-recalled to my mind the fair Weald of Kent when winter's icy grip is
-on it. Yet 'twas well covered with villages, some close together, some
-a league or two leagues apart, and, under where the last spurs of the
-Cantabrian mountains swept round directly to the west, we saw rise
-before us the high walls of a town, with above them an incredible
-amount of towers--we making out between twenty and thirty of these as
-each stride of our animals brought us nearer to them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That,&quot; said Seńor Jaime--as he was now to be called--though God only
-knew what his right name was!--while our eyes regarded it from still
-afar, &quot;must be Lugo. Now let us decide for our plan of action. And,
-first, as to getting into it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you make your entry,&quot; I asked, &quot;as a gentleman travelling through
-the land, or as priest--monk?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As monk!&quot; he replied. &quot;So best! I have other affairs here, besides
-the desire of meeting my old friend, Eaton. Now, observe, this is what
-I propose: You shall go first together--you will have no difficulty in
-getting in, seeing that there is no frontier to cross. Nor will you be
-asked for papers, since, once in, you will not get out again unless
-you appear satisfactory to those who are there.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We must get out again after a short rest, after a few hours,&quot; I
-replied. &quot;I make no manner of doubt that by now we are followed from
-Chantada--if those who are behind us reach Lugo ere we have quitted
-it, we shall be stopped beyond all doubt.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Seńor Jaime paused a moment ere he answered; pondering, doubtless, on
-this being the case. Then, speaking slowly, he said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If--if--'twere possible that you,&quot; looking at me, &quot;and you,&quot;
-regarding Juan, &quot;could also enter the town disguised; could appear as
-something vastly different from what you are, you would be safe; we
-would remain together. And--and--that would please me. We must not
-part, having met as we have done,&quot; and his eyes rested particularly
-upon Juan as he spoke, so that I felt sure he would far less willingly
-part with him than with me; that it was of this bright, handsome boy
-he was thinking most.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I,&quot; exclaimed Juan, &quot;would, above all other things but one--that one
-the not parting company with Mervan, my friend!&quot;--how softly he
-murmured those words, &quot;my friend!&quot;--&quot;stay here. For I am resolved to
-bring to bar that villain, James Eaton. But how--how to do it? How to
-enter the town disguised? We do not travel with masks and vizards, nor
-could we assume them an we did. Also, how to change our appearance
-sufficiently to be unrecognised by any of those behind?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For him,&quot; said Seńor Jaime, addressing Juan, but looking at me, &quot;'tis
-easy enough. I can help him to change himself in a moment. I have
-here,&quot; and he tapped the great valise strapped on to his horse's back,
-&quot;a second monk's gown, of another order than the one I wore--that was
-a Carmelite's and, as you know, brown; the second is a Dominican's,
-and white. The object which brings me to Europe--later you shall know
-it--if it prospers, forced me to provide myself with more than one
-disguise.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then after pausing a moment, perhaps to judge of the effect of this
-announcement on us, he went on: &quot;Well, Monsieur Crespin! What do you
-say? Will you be a monk and stay with Juan till he has seen his
-beloved friend, James Eaton, or will you insist on his abandoning his
-interview with that personage and riding post-haste to Flanders? Only
-remember, if he and you do so, or if you do this alone, the chance is
-also missed of your having a reckoning with that old man also.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now I was sorely posed by this suggestion of his--sorely. For,
-firstly, there was something bitterly distasteful to me, a soldier
-and, I hoped, a brave one, in masquerading in any such guise as this
-suggested. Also, I knew that it ill became me to tarry on my journey
-back for any cause whatever, let alone a new formed friendship for
-Juan Belmonte. My place was with the Cuirassiers, and with them I
-ought to be--both the earls having hinted that there would be some
-hard fighting ere long--while, as for revenging myself on the villain
-whose name now seemed for a certainty to be Eaton, well! that might
-easily be left to Seńor Jaime and Juan. If they did not between them
-very effectually confound that hoary-headed scoundrel, I should be
-much astonished.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On the other hand, there were many things that made for my disguising
-myself ere I entered Lugo, and, rapidly enough as I sat my horse
-deliberating, those things ran through my mind. To begin with, it
-would be full of Spanish and French soldiers and sailors, the runaways
-from Vigo, who, undoubtedly, would have followed the bulk of the
-treasure which had been removed from the galleons and transported
-here; and it was possible that there might be some who would recognise
-me, since I had played a pretty prominent part in the attack. It
-might, therefore, be best that--little as this disguising of myself
-was to my taste--I should do as Seńor Jaime suggested.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, all the same--and in the next moment--I decided that I would not
-do this thing; for, besides that it was too repugnant to me, I knew
-that it would be useless. And, knowing this, I said so, in spite of
-the pleading, pitiful glances which Juan cast at me--glances which
-plainly enough implored me to adopt the monk's dress, and thereby be
-enabled to stay in Lugo until vengeance was wrought upon James Eaton.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; I said, turning to Seńor Jaime, who sat quietly on my horse
-awaiting my answer, while I studiously avoided Juan's gaze. &quot;No, I
-will not do it. I am a soldier, and as a soldier--at least as a man,
-and not a monk--I will get through Spain and France. Besides, the
-disguise would be useless.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wherefore?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In reply to that,&quot; I said, &quot;let me ask you a question: What do you
-intend to do with your horse? Monks do not ride, as a rule--in
-Flanders I never saw one on horseback; also, your boots and great
-steel spurs beneath the gown would betray you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, he seemed very fairly posed at this, and for a moment bent his
-head over his animal's mane, as though lost in thought. Then suddenly
-he burst out into one of his deep, sonorous laughs, and exclaimed:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Body of St. Iago! I never thought of that. Though, for the boots, it
-matters not; I have the monkish sandals with me. And--and--perhaps the
-horse can be smuggled into the town somehow, and with it the boots!
-Ha! I must think!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And again he became buried in thought; yet, a moment later, he spoke
-once more:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If you enter Lugo as you are,&quot; he said, &quot;you will be taken for a
-certainty. There are--there must be--many coming after us from behind,
-from Chantada--they will describe you. Remember, you were not only
-seen under the moon's rays during the fight in the wood, but in the
-town previously. And, if you are taken, there is no hope for you!
-Eaton has told that you are English--fought against the galleons at
-Vigo. God! it means the garrote for both of you. You understand what
-that is? An upright post, a hasp of iron around your neck and it, a
-wheel to screw that hasp tight to the post--with your neck between
-them!--and--and--your eyeballs out of your head--your tongue half a
-foot long. That is what awaits you if you are taken.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will never be taken,&quot; I said, between my teeth, &quot;to suffer that.
-Bah! If I cannot, if we cannot, get out of the town again on the other
-side, have I not this, and this?&quot; and I touched my pistol holsters.
-&quot;They will be in my belt then.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After saying which I turned to Juan to ask him if he agreed with me,
-and saw that Seńor Jaime's ghastly description of the garrote had made
-him as pale as death.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What think you, comrade?&quot; I asked. &quot;Is it not best that you and I
-forego our vengeance on this man, Eaton, and push on as fast as may
-be, leaving him to our friend here, who also seems to have a reckoning
-to make--who appears, also, one who can extort it? Or will you
-disguise yourself and stay behind?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay. Nay,&quot; he answered. &quot;Where you go, I go. And--God knows I am no
-poltroon--yet--yet--I could not suffer that. I have seen it in the
-Indies--oh!&quot; and he put his hands to his eyes, letting his reins fall.
-&quot;Not that, not that!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Will you push on with me, then, foregoing your vengeance?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. Yes, since my vengeance risks such death as that. But,&quot; turning
-to the other, &quot;you proposed a disguise for me. Was I to be a monk,
-too?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; he said. &quot;Nay. But you are a brave, handsome lad--I thought
-that in some way we might have transformed you into a woman. You would
-make a presentable one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A woman!&quot; he echoed, looking mighty hot and raging at the suggestion.
-&quot;A woman!--I, who have fought by Mervan's side! Never. Also,&quot; he
-added, after somewhat of a pause, &quot;it is not as a woman that I intend
-to meet James Eaton, if at all; but as a man demanding swift justice.
-A woman would be like to get none of that from him.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4>
-
-<h5>A NARROW ESCAPE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">That evening--or rather afternoon, when already the wintry night was
-at hand--Juan and I were in Lugo and once more making preparations to
-continue our journey--to go on west now, through the Asturias,
-Santander and Biscay, as our chart showed us, toward St. Sebastian and
-Bayonne, which would bring us into France. But also we hoped that,
-after we had passed by the former of these provinces, on reaching the
-sea, which we should then do, our journey by land might be at an end;
-that we might find, by great good fortune, at some seaside town a
-vessel, either English or Dutch, which would take us north to where we
-desired to go.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But, alas! 'tis useless to write down all the plans we concocted in
-the dirty parlour of the inn we had rested in--an inn dignified by the
-name of the &quot;Pósada del Gran Grifon,&quot; since 'twas not to be our lot to
-make that journey, nor to set out upon it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Let me not, however, anticipate, but write down all that now befell
-us; also let me now begin to tell of the strange marvels that I was
-destined to behold the unravelling of, as also the dangers which from
-this period encompassed me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We were alone, had entered Lugo alone, Seńor Jaime having bidden us
-ride ahead of him and leave him to find his way into the town by
-himself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And,&quot; he said, &quot;be very sure I shall do it. Fear not for me. Only, if
-I come not by the time four o'clock has struck, believe that either I
-have fallen into the hands of the enemy or that, for some reason, I
-have not been able to get face to face with Eaton. Therefore, ride on
-without me. Remember my disguise will save <i>me</i>. You have both refused
-to be disguised. By consequence, look to yourselves. We shall meet
-again. I know your road.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now four o'clock had struck from the cathedral hard by, and he had
-not come. Yet, why not? we asked each other. A peasant whom we had met
-on the road when but a league between us and Lugo had mentioned this
-inn as one where good accommodation for man and beast could be
-obtained, and ere we parted from Jaime we had determined that it
-should be our meeting place.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And still he had not come. And it was four o'clock and past.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We must go,&quot; I said to Juan, &quot;we must go. 'Tis courting frightful
-danger to remain here. Already I have observed half a dozen French and
-Spanish sailors pass this window, whom I saw on board some of the
-ships and galleons; also some officers. If I meet them face to face,
-and they remember me, as I do them, there will be----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What?&quot; asked Juan, his face full of terror.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well--no Mervyn Crespin a few hours hence! that's all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, come, come, come,&quot; he exclaimed, catching at my arm. &quot;For God's
-sake, come! Why, why did we ever enter this town! 'Twas madness. We
-should have remembered they had fled hither.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no other high road to France and Flanders,&quot; I said, &quot;that
-justifies the risk. Yet, Juan, remember, even now it is not too late
-for you to part from me, if you choose. Your coming on here means
-nothing. <i>You</i> did not fight against the galleons; therefore you are
-in no danger----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Silence!&quot; he said again, as he had said once before. &quot;Silence! I will
-hear no word about leaving you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then suddenly he came away from the window, at which he had been
-standing, and crossed the room to me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look,&quot; he said. &quot;Look from out that window into the street; then say
-if it is not too late for us to part--if my danger is not as great as
-yours. Look, I say!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Glancing first at him, in wonderment at his exclamation, and what the
-meaning of it might be, yet with some sort of understanding mounting
-to my brain also, I stepped across to the dirty, unwashed window and
-looked out into the street.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And then I understood.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Through the dim light cast on the now darkened street by oil lamps,
-swung across it at intervals, and also by the candles burning in.
-<i>relicários</i>, set into the walls, as well as by the feeble glare which
-emerged from curtainless and unshuttered windows, I saw a band of men
-slowly passing, their drawn swords in their hands, or with musketoons
-upon their shoulders.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And ahead of all this body, which was composed of perhaps a dozen,
-there marched two of those with whom we had fought on the road between
-Chantada and this place--the leader who had addressed us, and another.
-As they passed along they gazed at each man whom they encountered;
-halting opposite our window, they looked at an inn which faced ours
-directly, a little place on which was painted the name, &quot;Pósada Buena
-Ventura.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Open the window a crack,&quot; I said to Juan--doing so myself, however,
-as I spoke--&quot;and let us listen. Hear what they say. Softly,&quot; and
-following my words we placed our ears to the inch-wide orifice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And then we heard every word as it fell from their lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That house opposite,&quot; the leader said, &quot;is the last to be examined
-except this and another&quot;--while Juan whispered: &quot;I cannot catch its
-name--It sounds like the San Cristobal. Yes. Yes. 'Tis that. Ha! And,
-see, they enter the house opposite. Yet some remain in the street.&quot;
-And we both peered from behind the side of the window at them as they
-stood there in the road, a crowd of urchins gathered round.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We are trapped,&quot; I said, &quot;trapped. We can never get out. The horses
-are in the stables behind--also, the gates are shut.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God!&quot; exclaimed Juan, suddenly, even as I spoke, &quot;they have finished
-there already--are coming here. Another five minutes and they will be
-in this room.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What shall we do?&quot; he wailed a moment later.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Escape while there is time--from this room, at least. Loosen your
-sword in its sheath--follow me,&quot; and I drew him back from the window.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But where? Where to go to?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Out of the house, at least. Come. The stairs lead down to the back
-part of the house; there is the yard and the stables--also a garden. I
-observed it when the horses were put up. Come. There is a wall at the
-end of the garden which separates it from another. If we can get over
-that we can at least escape into the town. By God's grace, there may
-be some way out of it besides the gates. And we have the cloak of
-night to help us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All the time I was speaking I had been drawing Juan toward the door;
-also I had seen that my papers and money were bestowed about me
-safely--I doubted if we should ever see our valises again!--or, for
-the matter of that, our horses. It would be heaven's providence now if
-we ever got out of this town alive, and even that I deemed unlikely.
-And at this crisis that was all we had to hope for, if so much.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lift your <i>porte epée</i> by the hand,&quot; I whispered. &quot;If the scabbard
-clanks on the stairs we are undone. Follow me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In another instant we were outside the door of the room. For
-precaution and as a possible means of gaining time I drew the key from
-the inside of the lock, then placed it in the keyhole outside, made a
-turn and, again withdrawing it, dropped it into my pocket. This would
-take up some moments, while they clamoured without, bidding us open.
-It would take some few more to break down the door, which they would
-very probably do. They might be precious moments to us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was quite dark outside in the corridor, but at the farther end
-there glimmered a faint light from an oil lamp set upon a bracket,
-though its rays scarcely reached here, namely, to the head of the deep
-oak stairs opposite where the door of the room we had just quitted
-was. But from below, which was a stone-flagged passage running from
-the front of the house to the back, there was another light--thank
-God, 'twas nearer the street than the exit to the yard!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We descended seven steps, then the stairs turned sharply from a small
-landing--we ourselves did not dare, however, to turn them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For below, in that cold stone corridor, we heard and recognised the
-voice of the man who had challenged us in the forest ere the fight
-began, a night ago.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here, are they?&quot; we heard him say. &quot;Here--so the birds are caught.
-The one, big, stalwart, brown--that is the English <i>demonio</i>--the
-other, younger, dark, handsome, might play the lover in one of Vega's
-spectacles. Ha! And the third who joined in the murder--an elder one,
-swart and grimy, black as the devil himself--is he here, too?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; said the woman, whose voice told us she was the landlady,
-&quot;there are but two, the bronzed one and the youth. You will not hurt
-him! Nay! Nay! <i>Diôs!</i> he is young and beautiful.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have no fear. <i>We</i> will not hurt either, if they do not resist. If
-they do, we shall cut them down. But--otherwise--no! no!&quot; and he
-laughed a fierce, hard laugh. &quot;Oh, no. There are others to hurt
-them--the governor, the Regidórs, the judges. Ho! They will hurt them
-through the garrote--or--or--the flames. The brasero! The wheel! Now
-lead up to them. Where is the room they harbour in?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will fetch another lamp,&quot; the woman said. &quot;This one is fixed.
-Wait.&quot; And we heard her clatter down the corridor on her Spanish
-pattens. Yet she paused, too, a moment, and turned back, saying:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Spare him--the young one. Heavens! his lips and eyes are enough to
-madden an older woman than I am.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Quick, then, quick,&quot; the other answered. &quot;They sleep in the prison
-to-night, and our supper waits at the gatehouse. Quick.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shall we dash through them?&quot; Juan whispered; and now I noticed that,
-as before in the hour of danger, his voice was firm and steady. &quot;One
-might escape even though the other is taken.&quot; And I heard him mutter,
-in even lower tones: &quot;Pray God it is you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; I said. &quot;No. We go together. Together escape or--die.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, even as I spoke, I saw what I had not observed before, owing to
-the dim light in which all was surrounded; saw that opposite to us on
-the landing--where the stairs turned--there was a door. Closed tight
-into its frame, 'twas true, yet leading doubtless into some room
-opening off the stairs which led up to the other one we had quitted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I was near enough to put my foot out quietly and touch it with my toe
-and--God be praised!--it yielded, opened inward.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Into it,&quot; I said in Juan's ear, &quot;into it. They will pass it as they
-go up to where we have come from. When they have done so we may creep
-down. In!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A moment later we had entered that room, had quitted the stairs--and
-the woman had come back and rejoined the men, was leading them up
-those very stairs, across the very spot where a few instants before we
-had been standing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet our hearts leapt to our mouths--mine did, I know!--when we who
-were standing on the other side of the door heard him stop outside it,
-and, striking the panel with his finger--the rap of his nail upon it
-was clearly perceptible to our eager ears--say to the woman:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is this the room--are they here?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The woman gave a low laugh in answer; then she said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay. Nay. 'Tis mine. By the saints! what should they do there! That
-handsome <i>Inglés</i>, devil though he be!--or that lovely boy? Heavens,
-no!&quot; and again she laughed, and added: &quot;Come. They are here. Up these
-stairs.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Even as we heard their heavy, spurred feet clatter on those stairs we
-were seeking for some mode of escape, and that at once.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Alas! 'twas not to be out of the door again and down into the stone
-passage, as we had thought.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For one glance through a great crack, and we saw, by peering down
-below, that these Spanish alguazils had some method in their
-proceedings. They had left two of their number behind; they stood in
-the passage waiting for what might happen above; waiting, perhaps, to
-hew down the two fugitives whom those others were seeking for, should
-they rush down; waiting for us. There was no way there!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, for the room--what did that offer?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was as dark as a vault--we could distinguish nothing--not even
-where the bed was--at first. Yet, later, in a few moments--while we
-heard, above, the rapping of sword hilts upon the door of the chamber
-we had just quitted--while we heard, too, the leader shouting: &quot;Open.
-Open--<i>Bandidos! Assassinatóres! Espias!</i> or we will blow the lock
-off&quot;--we saw at the end of the room a dull murky glimmer, a light that
-was a light simply in contrast to the denser gloom around--knew there
-was a window at that end.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Was that our way out?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Swiftly we went toward it--tore aside a curtain drawn across a
-bar--the noise the rings made as they ran seemed enough to alarm those
-men above, must have done so but for the infernal din they themselves
-were making--opened the lattice window--and, heaven help us!--found
-outside an iron, interlaced grate that would have effectually barred
-the exit of aught bigger than a cat!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We were trapped! Caught! It seemed as if naught could save us now!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lock the door,&quot; I whispered to Juan. &quot;They will come here next. The
-moment they find we are not in the other room!--ha! they know it now,
-or will directly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For as I spoke there rang the report of a musketoon through the empty
-passages of the house. They were blowing the lock off!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Desperately, madly, exerting a force that even I had never yet
-realized myself as possessing, I seized the cross-bars of that iron
-grating; I pushed them outward, praying to God for one moment--only
-one moment--of Samson's strength. And--could do nothing! Nothing, at
-first. Yet--as still I strained and pushed, as I drew back my arms to
-thrust more strongly even than before--it seemed as if the framework,
-as if the whole thing, yielded, as if it were becoming loosened in its
-stone or brick setting. Inspired by this, I pushed still more, threw
-the whole weight of my big body into one last despairing effort--and
-succeeded! The grate was loosened, torn out of the frame; with a
-clatter of falling chips and small <i>débris</i> it fell into the yard ten
-feet below.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">My prayer was heard!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Quick, Juan,&quot; I said, &quot;quick, come. Out of the window, give me your
-hands. I will lower you. 'Tis nothing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From Juan there came in answer a cry, almost a scream of terror.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Save me! Save me!&quot; he shrieked, &quot;there is another man in the room!&quot;
-and as he so cried, I heard a thump upon the floor--a thump such as
-one makes who leaps swiftly from a bed--a rush across that floor. Also
-a muttered curse in Spanish, a tempest of words, a huge form hurled
-against mine, two great muscular hands at my throat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In a moment, however, my own hands were out, too, my thumbs pressing
-through a coarse beard upon a windpipe. &quot;Curse you,&quot; I said in
-Spanish, as I felt that grasp on me relax. &quot;Curse you, you are
-doomed,&quot; and drawing back, I struck out with my full force to the
-front of me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Struck out, to feel my clenched fist stopped by a hairy face--the thud
-was terrible even to my ears!--to hear a bitter moan and, a moment
-later, a fall--dull and like a dead weight!--upon the floor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come, Juan, come,&quot; I cried. &quot;Come.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4>
-
-<h5>WHO? GRAMONT?</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">As he scrambled through the window--as I let him down by his hands, so
-that, with the length of his arm and mine together, his feet were not
-more than a yard from the ground--I heard those others outside the
-door. Heard also the woman shriek:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is none in here, I tell you--pigs, idiots! If they have
-escaped, 'tis to the street or to the roof. Search those rooms first.
-This is my chamber. <i>Diôs!</i> Are you men to enter thus a woman's
-apartment!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So be it,&quot; the leader said. &quot;We will. But, remember, if we find them
-not we will search this room. Remember!&quot; and we heard him and the
-others striding off to some other part of the house.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">By this time I was myself half out of the window. From the creature I
-had felled to the floor there came no sound; but from the door outside
-I heard the woman whisper:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Renato, come forth. Quick, I say! If they find you here you are lost.
-You will be taken--sent to the colonies. Come forth!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I waited to hear no more, understanding clearly enough that the
-woman had herself been sheltering in her own room some malefactor,
-probably some lover. And, doubtless, he had thought we were seeking
-for him, had found him in that darkened room--that we were the
-alguazils. His presence was explained.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Taking Juan by the hand, I passed rapidly by the stables as we went
-away from the street and up into the garden beyond--a small place,
-neglected and dirty, in which I had noticed, when we arrived, numbers
-of enormous turnips growing--vegetables much used in the country.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, a moment later, we were close by a low, whitewashed wall--'twas
-not so high as my head--over which I helped Juan, following instantly
-myself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Heaven knows,&quot; I said, &quot;where we are now, except that we have left
-the inn behind. This may be the garden of some great <i>residéncia</i>, or
-of another inn. Well, we must get through somehow into the street
-beyond.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And afterward?&quot; Juan asked, his face close to mine, as though trying
-to see me in the dark of the night. &quot;Afterward?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God knows what--afterward! We shall never get out of the gates, 'tis
-certain. There are five--all are doubtless warned by now. Pity 'tis we
-did not follow our friend's suggestion and disguise ourselves. That
-way, we might have been safe. I as a monk, you as a woman, we should
-never have been recognised.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis too late,&quot; said Juan. &quot;Too late now. We must go on; on to the
-end. Yet I wonder where that friend, Jaime, is. Perhaps taken, his
-disguise seen through.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We had reached the house to which this garden belonged by now--a
-different one from the neglected thing we had lately left, well cared
-for, and with great tubs of oleanders and orange trees placed about it
-at regular intervals, as we could now see by the rising moon, which
-was peeping over the chimney tops and casting its rays along a broad
-path which we had followed; were close up to the house, a great white
-one, with this, its garden side, full of windows covered with
-<i>persianas</i>, or jalousies, and from some of them lights streaming.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis an inn, for sure,&quot; I said, &quot;and full of--hark! whose voice is
-that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet there was no need to ask; 'twas a voice not easily forgotten which
-was speaking now; the voice of the man, Seńor, or &quot;Father,&quot; Jaime.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay,&quot; we heard in those rich, sonorous tones, &quot;alive, and here to call
-you to account.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And following this we heard another voice, supplicating, wailing,
-screaming, almost: &quot;No! No! No! Mercy! Pardon!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Beneath the moon's increasing rays we gazed into each other's eyes,
-then quickly, together--as if reading each other's thoughts also--we
-moved toward where those sounds proceeded from.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Toward a room in the angle of the great white house, with a door
-opening on to the garden in which we stood--'twas open now, though
-half across it hung a heavy curtain of some thick material. It was
-easy enough to guess how 'twas that curtain was thrown half back and
-the door stood open.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That way Jaime had come upon his prey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Standing behind that door, behind that heavy half-fallen curtain,
-this was what we saw: The man Jaime, with in his hand a drawn
-sword--doubtless he had hidden it beneath his monk's gown since he
-returned to the assumption of the latter.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In front of Jaime, upon his knees, his hands clasped, his white hair
-streaming behind him, was the man whose name I had deemed to be
-Carstairs, or Cuddiford, but which Juan had averred was in truth James
-Eaton.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Alive!&quot; Jaime went on. &quot;Alive. Villain, answer for your treachery ere
-I slay you. Where is my wealth--my child's wealth. Where is my
-daughter?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he spoke I heard a gasp, a moan beside me, felt a trembling. And,
-looking down, I saw Juan staring into the room, his eyes distended as
-though he was fascinated.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My child,&quot; Jaime went on. &quot;My child. Where is she?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I--I--do not know,&quot; the old man muttered--hissed in a whisper. &quot;I
-do--not know. She left me--years ago. Yet--I loved her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Liar. I have heard of you in the Indies. You stole the wealth I left
-in your hands for her--you drove her forth. Answer. Is she dead?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I lost all in trade,&quot; Eaton moaned again, &quot;all, all. I thought
-to double it--you were dead--they said so--would never come back.
-I--I----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look,&quot; whispered Juan in my ear. &quot;Look behind you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At his words I turned, and then I knew that we were lost, indeed. Lost
-forever.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The men from Chantada, accompanied by those of Lugo, were in this
-garden--had followed us over the wall, had found out our way of
-escape.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We were doomed! The garrote--the stake--were very near now.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They saw us at once, in an instant--doubtless our forms stood out
-clearly enough in the beams of the lamp as they poured forth into the
-garden--and made straight for us, their swords drawn, the unbrowned
-barrels of their musketoons and pistols gleaming in the moonlight. And
-the leader shouted, as he ran slightly ahead of the others: &quot;You
-cannot escape again. Move and we fire on you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet we heeded him not, but with a bound leapt into the room where
-those two were--leapt in while I cried: &quot;Jaime, we are undone. Assist
-us again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then swift as lightning I shut the door to, let fall the curtain and
-drew my sword. &quot;I will never yield to them,&quot; I said. &quot;Juan and I
-escape or die here together.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Together!&quot; Juan echoed, drawing also his weapon forth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was but time to see a still more frightened glance on Eaton's
-face than before--if added terror could come into a man's eyes more
-than had been when those eyes had glinted up at Jaime as he stood over
-him, it came now as Juan sprang to my side, his hat fallen off and his
-hair dishevelled--while those men were at the door giving on to the
-garden. And in an instant it was burst open by them--'twas but a poor
-frail thing!--they were in the room.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yield!&quot; the leader cried, &quot;yield, or you die here at once!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now Jaime was by our side; three blades were flashing in their
-faces; we were driving them back, assisted also by a fourth--the negro
-servant of Eaton, who had sprung into the room from another door. Yet
-that assistance lasted but a second. Doubtless the unhappy wretch
-preferred it, thinking it was his master who was in danger! A pistol
-was fired by some one, and I saw him reel back, falling heavily on the
-floor, dead, with a bullet between his eyes. And, as he did so, from
-Eaton there came a scream, while he flung himself over the creature's
-body.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With those others pistols were now the order of the day, fired
-ineffectually at first, while still I and the leader fought
-hand-to-hand around the room. And I had him safe. I knew if I was not
-cut down from behind that he was mine. My blade was under and over his
-guard. I prepared for the last lunge, when--curses on the luck!--a
-bullet took me in the right forearm; there ran through that arm, up to
-my shoulder, a feeling of numbness, a burning twinge; my sword fell
-with a clang to the floor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And in another moment two of them had sprung on and secured me; two
-others had grasped Juan, and disarmed him, too.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now there was none on our side to oppose himself to them but
-Jaime.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shoot him down! Kill him!&quot; the leader cried. Then added: &quot;You fool,
-there is naught against you, yet, if you court fate, receive it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But, great fighter as he was, what could he do against all those? One
-hung upon his sword arm, another clasped a leg, a third was dragging
-at his neck from behind, a fourth holding his monkish gown.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In another moment he, too, was disarmed. We were beaten--prisoners!
-The lives of all of us were at an end. None could doubt that!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The leader drew a long breath, then turned to where, at the open door
-of the passage, were gathered the landlord, as I supposed; several
-<i>facchinos</i> and some trembling women servants, white to the lips, and
-said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Observe, all you. I take these men--these <i>asasinos</i> within your
-house. I denounce these two,&quot; and he indicated Juan and me, &quot;the one
-as an English spy and a man who fought against us at Vigo, this other
-one, this boy, as his comrade and accomplice. Bear witness to my
-words, also to their deeds of blood.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From that crowd in the passage there came murmurs and revilings in
-reply: &quot;You should have slain them here,&quot; some said; &quot;Better the
-garrote or the flames in the <i>plaza da Mercado</i>,&quot; said others.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As for this monk, this false monk--for such I know him now to
-be--easy enough to recognise him as one of the brigands we fought with
-the other night--had he not joined in this fray he had been safe. We
-sought him not. Now, also, the flames or the garrote for him.&quot; Then,
-breaking off, he exclaimed: &quot;Who is this--and that black slave lying
-dead there?&quot; and he pointed to Eaton and the other. &quot;Who are they?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A gentleman and his servant staying in this, my house,&quot; the landlord
-said, speaking for the first time, &quot;doubtless assaulted by the
-<i>vagabundos</i>. Oh! 'tis terrible.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Off with these three,&quot; the leader said. &quot;To the prison in the
-ramparts to-night--the judge to-morrow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And as he gave his orders his men and the men of Lugo with him formed
-round us, prepared to obey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But, now, for the first time Eaton spoke, approaching the leader
-fawningly, speaking in a soft voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Seńor,&quot; he said, &quot;ere you take them away, a word. This one,&quot; looking
-at me, &quot;you knew already--at Chantada; I have told you who and what he
-is. For the boy it matters not. He is but a follower.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet as he spoke I noticed he carefully avoided Juan's eyes, fixed full
-blaze on him as they flamed from out of his now white, marble face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;These, I say, you know,&quot; he went on. &quot;But for this other one--this
-pretended monk, this brigand of the night--you do not know him; nor
-who he is and what has been. Let me tell you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Viper,&quot; Jaime murmured. &quot;Villain. Thief! Yet,&quot; he continued, &quot;I stoop
-not to ask your silence. Speak. Tell all. But, James Eaton, beware.
-Caged tigers sometimes break their bars and get free.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yours will never be broken,&quot; the leader said, looking at the same
-time with a wondering glance from one to the other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis true. 'Tis very true,&quot; Eaton went on, his voice oily,
-treacherous as before. &quot;Yet since you might break yours, I give this
-gentleman a double reason for binding you faster. Sir,&quot; turning to him
-whom he so addressed, &quot;this monk, this brigand as he appears, would be
-an innocent man were he that alone, in comparison with what he really
-is.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who in the name of all the fiends is he, then? Answer quick.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A murderer,&quot; the old man hissed now, raising his voice, &quot;not
-four-fold, but four thousand-fold. See,&quot; and he pointed his fingers at
-Jaime, &quot;see in him the man who sacked Maracaibo, Guayaquil, Campeachy;
-the man who has burnt men and women alive in their houses like pigs in
-a stye, sunk countless Spanish and French ships, plundered, murdered,
-ravished--the arch-villain of the Caribbean Sea--not dead, but alive,
-and trapped at last. The buccaneer, filibuster, pirate--Gramont!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Amidst their voices--their shouts and cries--for all in Spain had
-known that awful name, though its owner had long been deemed dead and
-lost at sea--I heard a cry--it was a scream--from Juan; I saw him reel
-as he stood by my left side, then stagger heavily against me,
-supported from falling to the floor only by my unwounded arm around
-him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had fainted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, as I held up the drooping form, I learnt the secret hidden from
-me for so many days. I knew now what it was that Sir George Rooke had
-earlier learnt. I penetrated the disguise of Juan Belmonte.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>SENTENCED TO DEATH.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">I lay within a darkened cell in the prison which formed part of the
-ramparts of Lugo. Lay there, a man doomed to death; sentenced to be
-burnt at the stake, as a spy taken in a country at war with my own. To
-be burnt at the stake on some Sunday morning, because that day was
-always a day of festival, because all Lugo would be there to witness,
-because from all the country round the peasants would come in to see
-the Englishman expire in the flames.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Doomed to death!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet not alone. By my side--his right hand nailed to an upright plank!
-(so the sentence had run) to which our bodies were to be fastened by
-chains--was to stand that other man, Gramont--the pirate and buccaneer
-who, as Eaton had testified, had been called the Shark of the Indies.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I had been tried first by the Alcáide of Lugo and the principal
-Regidór, assisted by the Bishop of the province, an extremely old
-man--and had been soon disposed of. Evidence was forthcoming--there
-was plenty of it in Lugo in the shape of French sea-captains and
-sailors from the Spanish galleons--that I had fought with the English
-at Vigo; also, that I had slain men betwixt the border and here. And,
-again, there was the evidence of Eaton that I had travelled from
-Rotterdam as the undoubted bearer of the news that the galleons were
-approaching Spain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also, not content with all this, I was on my way through the land,
-gleaning evidence of all that was taking place within it, so as to
-furnish, as none could otherwise suppose, information to my countrymen
-when I should reach them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No need for my trial to be spun out; one alone of all these facts was
-enough to condemn me, and, after a whispered conference between the
-Alcáide, the Regidór and the Bishop, the latter delivered the above
-sentence, his voice almost inaudible because of his great age, yet
-strong enough for the purpose--powerful enough to reach my ears and
-those of the small crowd within the court house; that was sufficient.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So I knew my fate, and knew, too, that it was useless to say aught, to
-utter one word. I had lost the game; the stakes would have to be paid
-in full.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then began the unravelling of the history of him who stood beside
-me--swarthy, contemptuous--his eyes glancing around that court,
-alighting at one moment on the withered form and cadaverous face of
-the Bishop, at another on the figure of the Regidór, a moment later on
-the Alcáide, a younger, well favoured man, whom I guessed a soldier in
-the past or present.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Gramont's condemnation was assured by the part he had played on that
-night when he assisted us on the road 'twixt Chantada and Lugo. That
-alone would have forfeited his life amidst these Spaniards; yet,
-perhaps from curiosity, perhaps because even they doubted whether so
-summary an execution, and one so horrible, was merited by that night's
-work, they decided to hear the denouncement of Eaton, the story of
-Gramont's past life. They bade the former speak, tell all.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And what a story it was he told!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Sitting in a chair near the Bishop, looking nearly as old as that old
-man himself, he poured out horror after horror; branded the man by my
-side as one too steeped in cruelty to be allowed to live another hour,
-if what he said was, indeed, true.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Told how this man had ravaged all the Spanish main--had besieged
-Martinique, Nombre de Diós, Campeachy, and scores of other places,
-shedding blood like water everywhere--had sunk and plundered ships;
-burnt them and the men in them--burnt them alive; gave instances, too,
-of cruelty extreme.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have known him to tie dead and living together and fling them to
-the sharks,&quot; he said--&quot;dead and living <i>Spaniards!</i> Also hang them to
-the bowsprit by a cord round their waists, a knife placed in one hand,
-so that, while freedom was theirs if they chose to sever the rope, a
-worse death awaited them when they fell into the water--a death from
-sharks, from alligators! Oh, sir, oh, reverend prelate,&quot; he continued,
-stretching out his hands toward the old, almost blind man, &quot;I have
-seen worse than this. Once he and his followers besieged a monastery
-full of holy fathers, governed by a bishop saintly as yourself; and
-they defended it vigorously, bravely--would have driven this tiger
-back but for one thing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What?&quot; asked the younger of the judges, the Alcáide. And I noticed
-that now, as all through this testifying of Eaton, that Alcáide seemed
-less disposed to accept his evidence than the others were. Later on I
-knew the reason that so urged him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What?&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Some of the priests had already fallen into his hands and the hands
-of his crew. Then they it was whom he forced to advance first against
-the monastery--to fire the brass cannon they had brought with them
-against their brethren; forced them to do so, so that those brethren
-should not know them, should shoot them down first.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Also,&quot; said the Alcáide, &quot;it might have been to prevent their firing
-at all. In open war a great commander would, perhaps, have availed
-himself of such a cunning ruse.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I knew for sure this man had been, or was, a soldier.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">More, much more, was told by Eaton--'tis best I set down nothing
-further--then the end came, The sentence was passed; he, too, was
-doomed to die, by my side, on the Sunday that should later be
-appointed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Break off,&quot; the Bishop said. &quot;Justice will be done.&quot; Whereupon he
-glanced down at his papers--I wondering that he could see them with
-those purblind eyes--while, pausing in his attempt to rise, he &quot;Yet
-there was another. The youth&quot;--and here I pricked up my ears, for
-of Juan I had heard nothing since taken to the prison in the
-ramparts--&quot;the youth who fought by the side of this man--this
-spy--this <i>Inglés</i>. How comes it he is not before us?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For a moment, as it seemed to me, the Alcáide hesitated, then he said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is not well. He was hurt in the <i>męlée</i>; he cannot be brought
-before us for some days. Later, if necessary, he can be tried.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Although I had drawn as far away from Gramont as I could since I had
-learned his true nature and character and the bloodshed of which he
-had been guilty, I could not prevent myself from letting my eyes fall
-on him now; and I saw that for the first time there was a look of
-eagerness in his eyes, that he was watching the younger of those
-judges, watching as though filled with an intensity of feeling as to
-what might next be said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If necessary, Capitan Morales,&quot; the Regidór said, speaking now for
-almost the first time, &quot;if necessary! By all reports he is as bad as
-his elder comrades. A wild cat, all say. Why should it not be
-necessary?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is very young,&quot; the Alcáide replied, undoubtedly confused, &quot;very
-young; also he--he--is not well. I should do wrong to produce him
-before you in the state he is. As governor I must use my discretion,&quot;
-and he made a feint of being engaged with the papers before him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I felt sure that he, too, knew Juan's secret, as I now did.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I wondered to what advantage he might put that secret on behalf of
-Juan. Wondered while I felt glad at the thought which had now risen to
-my mind--the thought that, at last, Juan might be saved from our doom.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again the Bishop said at this time--doubtless his worn old frame was
-fatigued by the morning's work:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let us rise. There is no more to be done, since--since--this youth
-cannot yet be brought before us,&quot; and once more he placed his white,
-shrunken hands upon the desk in front of him to obtain the necessary
-aid to quitting his seat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now the governor, whose name was Morales, made a motion of
-dissent, accompanying it, however, by soft, respectful words.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, most reverend father, nay,&quot; he said, &quot;not yet, if you will
-graciously permit that we continue our examination farther,&quot; while as
-he spoke the Bishop sank back again with a wearied look of assent. &quot;I
-am not satisfied.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not satisfied,&quot; the old man whispered, while the Regidór also echoed
-his words, though in far louder tones. &quot;What is it you are not
-satisfied with, Capitan Morales?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;With that man's testimony,&quot; he exclaimed, pointing his finger over
-his desk at Eaton. &quot;In no manner of way satisfied,&quot; and as he spoke it
-almost seemed--I should have believed it to be so in any other country
-but Spain, a land of notorious injustice and love of cruelty for the
-sake of cruelty--as if the crowd in the court somewhat agreed with
-him. Also, even as he spoke, a voice shouted from the midst of those
-forming it:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay! How knows he all this? Ask him that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Glancing my eyes in the direction whence those words came, they fell
-upon a man of rude though picturesque appearance, whose voice I
-thought it was; a fellow bearded and bronzed, with, in his ears, great
-rings of gold; a man whom, I scarce know why, I instantly deemed a
-sailor. Perhaps, one of the many who had fled from the galleons or the
-French ships of war.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am about to ask him that!&quot; exclaimed Morales, though he cast an
-angry glance toward the crowd. &quot;It is his answer to that which I
-require.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then all eyes were instantly directed toward Eaton, one pair flaming
-like burning coals from beneath their bushy brows--the eyes of
-Gramont.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Looking myself at him, noticing the ashy colour of his face as he
-heard that unknown voice uprise amidst the people gathered in the
-court--as also he heard in reply the words of Morales--noticing, too,
-the quivering of his white lips and the look as of a hunted rat that
-came into his eyes--I found myself wondering if he had not thought of
-how his denunciation of the man by my side was his own accusation
-also.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I ask you,&quot; went on Morales, &quot;how you know all these things. None but
-an eye-witness, a participator, could have told as much!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Upon that muttering and gesticulating crowd, upon the shaggy,
-black-bearded Asturians and Biscayans--some of them rude mountaineers
-from the Gaviara and some even ruder sailors from the wild and
-tempest-beaten shores of Galicia--upon the swarthy Spanish women with
-knives in their girdles and babes at their bare breasts, there fell a
-hush as all listened for his answer--a hush, broken only by his own
-halting attempt to find an answer that should be believed--gain
-credence not only with the judges, but the people.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have--heard--it said--heard it told,&quot; he whispered, in quavering
-tones. &quot;'Twas common talk in all the Indies--his name hated--dreaded.
-Used as a means to fright the timid--to----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He paused. For, like a storm that howls across the seas, sweeping all
-before it in its course, another voice, a deeper, fuller, more
-sonorous one, swept through that court and drowned his; the voice of
-the lost man by my side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hear me, you judges,&quot; he cried, confronting all--standing there with
-his manacled hands in front of him, yet his form erect, his glance
-contemptuous, his eyes fire. &quot;Hear me. Let me tell all. I have the
-right--the last on earth granted to one such as I--for one who sees
-and reads his doom in all your faces. Give me your leave to speak.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Speak!&quot; the Bishop murmured, his tones almost inaudible. &quot;Speak--yet
-hope nothing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hope!&quot; Gramont said. &quot;Hope! What should I hope? Nothing! in truth.
-No more than I fear aught. I am the man this one charges me with
-being--am Gramont. That is enough. Gramont, the filibuster--one of a
-hundred of your countrymen, of Frenchmen, of Englishmen. But,&quot; and
-he glanced proudly around the court, &quot;the leader of them all, of
-almost all. Yet, if I am guilty, who is there in the Indies that is
-innocent? Was Morgan, the English bulldog?--yet his king made him
-deputy-governor of his fairest isle. Was Basco, Lolonois--is Pointis?
-Answer me that. And, you of Spain, you, one of her bishops, you, one
-of her soldiers,&quot; and he glanced at each of them, &quot;how often has one
-of you blessed the ships that sailed from your shores laden with men
-of my calling--how often have men of your trade,&quot; again he glanced at
-Morales, &quot;belonged to mine? Yet now I, a Frenchman, a comrade in arms
-of you Spanish, am judged by the words of such as that&quot;--and this time
-his eyes fell on Eaton.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also all in the court looked at him again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now,&quot; went on Gramont, &quot;hear who and what he is--hear, too, how he
-knows all that I have done. He was my servant--my ship's steward
-once--then rose through lust of cruelty to be my mate and second in
-command. And he it was who first whispered that the captured monks and
-priests, as he terms them, should be sent against the monastery at
-Essequibo. Only--he has forgotten, his memory fails--they were not
-monks and priests--but <i>nuns</i>.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, no!&quot; shrieked Eaton, as a tumult indescribable arose within
-the court, while now the mountaineers and seamen howled, &quot;burn him and
-let the other go,&quot; and the fierce dark-eyed women clutched their babes
-closer to their breasts, fingering the hilts of the knives in their
-girdles at the same time.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nuns! Holy nuns!&quot; the Bishop gasped. &quot;Great God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay! Holy nuns. And hear one more word from me; it is the truth,
-though it avails me nothing. I was not at Essequibo then, was far
-away, was, in truth, at Cape Blanco. And he--he--James Eaton, was the
-man.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There rose more tumult and more uproar--it seemed as though all the
-men in the court would force the barrier that separated them from the
-judges and from Eaton and us, the prisoners--would slay that villain,
-that monstrous wretch, upon the spot. But at a look from the Alcáide
-some of the alguazils and men-at-arms by that barrier, thrust and
-pushed them back, and made a line between them and the body of the
-court.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Again listen,&quot; Gramont went on, when some silence had at last been
-obtained. &quot;It is my last word. I was not there--was gone--the band was
-broken up, dispersed. From Spain had come an order from your king that
-those who desisted were to be pardoned; from Louis of France came the
-same news by Pointis. And I was one who so desisted, took service
-under Louis, was made his lieutenant. Also I was on my way to France
-when I was cast away. Cast away, after leaving my child, my wealth, in
-that man's hands for safe keeping. He drove the one from him with
-curses and cruelty, he stole the other. And--hear more--those galleons
-coming to Cadiz were bringing that stolen wealth to him--because I
-knew that it was so I came in them to Spain, hoping by my disguise to
-meet him, to wrench it back from him, to call him to account for his
-treatment of my girl.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On the court there had come a hush--as the calm comes after the storm;
-hardly any spoke now--yet all, from Bishop downward, regarded Eaton,
-trembling, shivering there.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And once more in that hush, Gramont's voice uprose again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For myself I care not. Do with me what you will. But, remember, I
-denounce him, that man there, as pirate and buccaneer ten times more
-bloodthirsty and cruel than any other who ever ravaged the Indies; I
-denounce him, the denouncer, as thief, filibuster and spy. Do with me
-what you will--only take heed. Spare him not. And if you seek
-corroboration of my word, demand it of him who is my fellow-prisoner,
-demand the truth from Juan Belmonte.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4>
-
-<h5>MY LOVE! MY LOVE!</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The days passed as I lay in my dungeon in the ramparts, and each
-morning when the jailer--who, I soon learned, was deaf and dumb--came
-with a loaf of bread and jar of water, I braced myself to receive the
-tidings that it was my last on earth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet a week went by and I had not been summoned to the plank and
-flames--I began, as I lost count of time--as I forgot the days of the
-week themselves--to wonder if, after all, the sentence was one that
-they did not dare to carry out. And, remembering that in Spain nothing
-could be done without reference to the powers at Madrid, I mused upon
-whether, if they did so dare, the sanction for the execution of
-Gramont and myself must be first obtained ere the execution could take
-place; also I mused on many other things, be sure, besides my own
-impending fate, a fate which, I thought, would never be known to any
-of my countrymen, which would be enveloped forever in a darkness
-nothing could lift. I thought of Juan and of the secret which
-that wild, impulsive nature had concealed from me for so many
-days--wondered what would be the end of that career; thought, too, of
-Gramont, the man whose blood-guiltiness had been so great, yet who, as
-he stood by my side a doomed man, had seemed almost a hero by reason
-of his indifference to, his scorn of, his fate.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The dungeon, as I have termed it, though in fact it was more like a
-cell, was in and at the uppermost part of the ramparts of Lugo--noted
-for being the most strongly walled and fortified town in all
-Spain--was, indeed, a room in the great wall which sloped down
-perpendicularly to the Minho beneath; a wall, smooth and absolutely
-upright, or vertical, on which a sparrow could scarcely have found a
-crevice in which to lodge or perch, rising from eighty to a hundred
-feet from the base of the rock on which it was built and through which
-the river rushed. This I had seen as we had passed under it on the
-other side of the Minho when we approached the town; could see,
-indeed, in the daytime as I glanced down on to the river beneath
-through the heavily grated and barred window which admitted light to
-my prison; also I could observe the country outside and the mountains
-beyond, while I heard at night the swirl of the river as it sped by
-those rocks below.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Because there was no chance of escape for any creature immured within
-this cell, since none could force away those grates and bars, even had
-he possessed that strength of Samson, for which I had once prayed;
-because, also, had I been able to do so, there was nothing but the
-jagged rocks beneath, or the swift river, into which to cast myself, I
-was not chained nor manacled; was at liberty, instead, to move about
-as I chose; to peer idly out all day at the freedom of the open
-country beyond, which would never again be mine, or to cast myself
-upon the pallet on the floor and sleep and dream away the hours that
-intervened between now and my day of doom. Nay, I was at liberty, had
-I so chosen, to strangle myself with my bedding, or, for the matter of
-that, my belt or cravat, or end my life in any manner I might desire.
-Perhaps, though I knew not that it was so, it might be hoped such
-would be the end. It might save trouble and after consequences.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">None came near me all the day or night, except that mute jailer, of
-whom I have spoken, when he brought me my bread and water every
-morning, and it was, therefore, with a strange feeling of
-surprise--with a plucking at my heart, and a fear, which I despised
-myself for, that my last hour was come--that one night, as I lay in
-the dark, I heard footsteps on the stones of the passage outside the
-cell door--footsteps that stopped close by that door, some of them
-heavy, the others light. I heard, too, the clash of keys together, the
-grating of one in the huge lock, a moment later.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Remember,&quot; I whispered to myself. &quot;Remember, you are a man--a
-soldier. Be brave.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then slowly the door opened, and a figure came in, bearing a light in
-its hand, while, a second later, the door was closed and locked again
-from the outside; the heavy footsteps were heard by me retreating down
-the passage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The figure was that of &quot;Juan&quot; Belmonte.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You here?&quot; I said, springing up, and then I advanced toward it, my
-hands outstretched, while my companion of so many days sprang to my
-arms, lay in them, sobbing as though with a broken heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do not weep, do not weep,&quot; I said, and, as I spoke, my lips touched
-that white brow--no whiter now than all the rest of the face, &quot;do not
-weep. What is, is, and must be borne.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My love, my love!&quot; those other lips--whose rich crimson I had once
-marvelled at so much--sobbed forth now, &quot;my love, how can I help but
-weep? Oh, Mervan, I have learnt to love you so, to worship you, for
-your strength and courage! And now to see you thus--thus! My God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be brave still,&quot; I said; would have added &quot;Juan&quot;; only, not knowing,
-I paused.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What shall I call you?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juana.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do they--the judges--know?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The Alcáide knows: 'Tis through that knowledge I am here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why,&quot; I whispered, my arms about her as she clung to me, &quot;why was
-this disguise assumed, these dangers run? Oh! Juana, since I learnt
-what you were in truth I have shuddered, sweated at the memories of
-your risks. What reason had you for coming to Europe as a man? and
-with such beauty, too! 'Tis marvellous it was never seen through.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They would not give passage to women in the galleons,&quot; she answered.
-&quot;Therefore I came as I did; also I knew I might better find
-Eaton--confront him, in a garb, another sex, which would prevent him
-from recognising the little child he had treated so evilly.&quot; Then,
-suddenly, with a wail, she exclaimed: &quot;Oh, my God! Mervan, I have not
-come to talk of this, but to be with you for our last hour; one hour
-before we die. The Alcáide has granted me that--and one other
-thing--on conditions;&quot; and I felt her shudder in my arms.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Before we die,&quot; I repeated stupidly, saying most of her words over
-again. &quot;Granted you this and one other thing--and on conditions. What
-conditions? Tell me all; make me to understand. <i>We</i> die? Not you!
-They cannot slay you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From some neighbouring church a deep-toned bell was pealing solemnly
-as I spoke. Far down below, by the river banks, I heard the splash of
-some fishermen's boats as they went by to their night work--always,
-until my eyes close for the last time, I shall remember those sounds
-accompanying her words in answer to mine--shall hear them in my
-ears--her words: &quot;I can slay myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juana!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Must slay myself,&quot; she went on, &quot;there is no other way. Can I live
-without you--or, living, fullfil those conditions?&quot; and, even as she
-said this, our lips met. &quot;But,&quot; I asked, my voice hoarse with grief
-and misery, &quot;what are they, and wherefore granted?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He gives me one life--his--my father's! My God! he my father!--he
-will not give me yours because he thinks you are my lover--and--and
-the condition is that on the night when he is set free, I fly from
-Lugo with him, Morales, to Portugal. He will be safe there, he says.
-'Tis rumoured the king has joined England.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you accept the terms?&quot; I asked, bitterly, knowing that I loved
-this girl as fondly as she loved me. Had loved her since I discovered
-her sex as she reeled into my arms on that night. &quot;You accept?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I accept. Nay!&quot; she exclaimed, &quot;do not thrust me from you--you
-cannot doubt my love, my adoration. Else why am I here a prisoner in
-Lugo--why, except because I could not quit your side, could not tear
-myself from you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How then accept?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Listen. I must save him. God!--he is my father--to my eternal shame!
-Yet--yet, being so, his soul must not go to seek its Maker yet--'tis
-too deeply drenched with crime, he must have time--time to live--to
-repent--to wash away his sins. Oh! Mervan, you are my love, my love,
-my first and only love--will be my last--yet--I must save him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At what a cost! Your own perdition!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no. Listen. Morales leaves here the day before my unhappy father
-is given his chance of escape--the door of his cell will be set open
-for him at night; none will bar his exit by a back way--I, too, shall
-be gone. Morales will take me with him in my own proper garb, that of
-a woman. Then--then--because I shall not believe in my father's
-freedom until I am sure of it, know it, he will join us at the
-frontier--not the one which we passed, but where the road crosses to
-Braganza at a place called Carvallos--and----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will keep your word!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. To myself--not him. My father will be safe--Morales unable to do
-more against him--I--I shall be dead. Once I am assured all is well
-with him I shall end my life. There will be nothing more to live for.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose,&quot; I whispered, &quot;suppose--it might be!--that I should escape,
-and, doing so, find you dead! Oh, Juana, how would it be with me then?
-How could I live?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, my love,&quot; she said, whispering, too, &quot;can you not believe I have
-thought of that--believe that if all hope of your escaping was not
-gone I should not have decided thus? But, Mervan, you are a brave man,
-have faced death too often to fear to do so once again for the last
-time. Mervan, my love, my life--there is no hope. None. He has told
-me--he--Morales--that the morning after all are gone but you, you will
-surely be put to death. My own, my sweet, there is no hope.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If I could escape first----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is impossible. Impossible. Oh! I have begged him on my knees again
-and again to give you the same chance as he gives my father--have told
-him that, since he ruins himself to set free the one, it would cost
-him no more to let both go--yet, yet--he will not.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why not?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have said. And he makes but a single answer. One is my father--the
-other my lover. Laughs, too, and says he does not jeopardise his own
-body--ruin for certain his own life in his own land--to fling that
-lover back into my arms.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Still, if he knows that until a few days ago I deemed you a boy----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Knows it!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;Oh, my God! have I not told him so a
-hundred times--sworn that we were but strangers thrown together scarce
-a month past; had never met before. And to all my vows and
-protestations he replies: 'Knowing you now to be a woman--as I have
-myself by chance discovered--he must love you as I do. I will not save
-him to steal you from me.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet, with this refusal on his lips, you yield--or appear to yield.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My father! My father!&quot; she cried, flinging her arms madly around my
-neck. &quot;My father! My father! For his sake I must yield. Oh, my love,
-my love, my love--I must.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span style="letter-spacing: 9px">
-* * * * * * * * *</span></p>
-
-<p class="normal">I cannot write down--in absolute truth, cannot recall--our last sad
-parting, our frenzied words, our fond embraces. Suffice it that I say
-we tore ourselves apart at the sound of the mute's footsteps--that
-Juana was borne away almost insensible.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For that we should never meet again in this world we recognised--we
-were parted forever. I had found and won--although till lately unknown
-to myself!--the most fond and loving heart that had ever yielded
-itself up to a man--found it only as I stood upon the brink of my
-grave.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet if there were anything that could reconcile me to my loss of her
-it would be that grave, I knew; that--or the casting of my ashes to
-the wind after my body was consumed by the <i>braséro</i>--would bring the
-oblivion I desired. And, since she, too, meant to die the moment her
-father was safe, neither would be left to mourn the other. At least
-the oblivion of death would be the happy lot of both. Yet, as now the
-hours followed one another, as I heard them strike upon the bells of
-all the churches in this old city, and boom forth solemnly from the
-cathedral tower--wondering always, yet resignedly, when I should hear
-them for the last time; wondering, too, when the key would once more
-grate in the lock and I should be summoned to my doom--I cursed myself
-for never having penetrated Juan's disguise, for never having guessed
-she was a woman. Sir George Rooke had done so, I knew now; that was
-what he meant by his solemn warnings to me--fool that I was, not to be
-as far-seeing as he!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There were many things, which I now recalled, that should also have
-opened my eyes--her timidity, her nervousness, the strange power of
-mustering up courage at a moment of imminent danger; also the frequent
-change of colour; the remaining in the inn kitchen all one night; the
-shriek for assistance at the barrier encounter. And yet I had been
-blind, and thought it was a boy who rode by my side through all the
-perils we had passed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I might have saved her had I but had more insight--might have
-refused to let her accompany me; have sternly ordered her to
-travel in some other way than along the danger-strewn path which I had
-come. She would have been safe now--what mattered it what had befallen
-me!--would have been free, with no hideous necessity of taking her own
-life to escape from the love which Morales forced upon her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, as I tossed upon my pallet, thinking of all this--thinking, too,
-of how fondly I had come to love this girl, so dear to me now that we
-were lost to each other forever--I knew, I felt sure, that no stern
-commands issued to her to turn back and quit my side would have been
-of any avail; that, as she had once threatened, she would have
-followed me like a dog, have lain upon the step of the house wherein I
-slept, would never have quitted my side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For hers was the hot, burning love of the southern woman, of which I
-had often read and heard told by wanderers into far-off lands--the
-love that springs in a moment into those women's breasts, and, once
-born, is never quenched except by death--as, alas! hers was now to be
-quenched.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4>
-
-<h5>&quot;AS THE NIGHT PASSETH AWAY.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Still the days passed and I meditated on whether each as it came was
-to be my last. Wondered as every morning I watched the opening of the
-heavily clamped door, if, instead of my loaf and jar of water, that
-deaf and dumb jailer had come to summon me forth to my fate; and
-wondered again at what might cause the delay, since morning after
-morning his behaviour was ever the same, the bread always placed on
-the rough stone shelf that ran around the room, with the water by its
-side. That, and nothing more.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That Juana had gone by now with the Alcáide, I thought must surely be
-the case. I had taken since that night when last we met--and parted
-forever--to scoring with a nail a mark daily on the whitewashed but
-filthy wall, so that thereby I might keep some count of the days as
-they went by, and now there were six of such marks there. Surely she
-was gone--surely, too, I thought, Gramont's escape had taken place by
-now--yet they came not for me. What did it mean?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In my agony at the thought that by now, perhaps, Juana was dead by her
-own hand--I pictured her to myself using the small poniard I knew she
-carried, or the equally small pistol of which she was possessed--I
-groaned--nay! almost shrieked sometimes at my horrible picturings of
-her beautiful form and face stiff with death; in that agony I came to
-pray at last to God that the day or night which was passing over me
-might be my last. That He, in His supreme mercy, would see fit to
-inspire them with the resolve to make an end of me. Prayed that, by
-the time those never ceasing clocks without had struck once more the
-hour they were striking as I made my supplication, my soul might have
-left my body--that that body might be no more than a heap of ashes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For I could bear my existence no longer. My thoughts--of my beauteous
-mistress lying in death's hideous grasp, of my poor old father, and
-the misery which would be his--not at my falling like a soldier, but
-at the mystery which would forever enshroud my death--were more than I
-could support.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But still another day passed--the seventh--and still again at daybreak
-there was no summons to me to go forth and meet my fate. Yet, since by
-the increased pealings of the bells, and by the ringing of some
-sweeter sounding ones than those usually heard, I knew it was the
-Sabbath I wondered that my doom had not come. For the Sabbath was, I
-remembered, the day of execution in this land, because 'tis always a
-fęte day, when the people are at leisure to be excited and amused.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That day passed, however, the night drew on, the dark had come; and
-still I was alive; had before me another night of horror and of mortal
-agony unspeakable to endure.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From my ghastly, silent warder I had tried more than once to obtain
-some hint, or information, as to when I might expect my sentence to be
-carried out--if I could have learnt that, I should have known also
-that Gramont was gone--was free--that, my God! Juana was dead, or near
-to her death. But as well might I have asked the walls of this cell in
-which I was, for a word or sign. I wrote on those walls with the nail
-a question--<i>the</i> question: &quot;When am I to die?&quot; and he stared as
-stolidly at it as though he were no more able to see than to speak or
-hear. Thinking, perhaps, that he could not read, I made sighs upon my
-fingers to him, at all of which he shook his head, though what he
-meant to convey I know not. Yet, had my mind not been so distraught, I
-should have remembered that, perhaps, if he could not understand the
-one neither could he the other. Reflecting later on, however, I felt
-sure that he was able to do both--it was the only way in which one so
-afflicted as he was could have been made to understand his orders;
-and, still later, I knew that such was the case. And now, on that
-Sunday, as the horrid gloom of the winter night enveloped all the
-country around, while up from the pastures and fields there rose a
-vapour or fog, I took a terrible resolve, driven thereto by the misery
-of my reflections.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I determined that, if my death by the hands of the executioner came
-not to-morrow, I would take my own life. I could endure no longer,
-could think no more upon Juana as a dead woman, as one slain by her
-own hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh! Juana, Juana,&quot; I wailed more than once, &quot;my lost Juana.&quot; Then
-added, with fierceness, &quot;Yet--no matter. We meet to-morrow at the
-latest.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Though they had taken my weapons from me ere they brought me here,
-there was enough of opportunity to my hand for accomplishing my
-purpose. There was the nail I had found--my sash, or belt--my
-cravat--either would serve for my purpose if I was brave enough to
-accomplish it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Brave enough--brave enough!&quot; I found myself repeating. &quot;Brave enough!
-Or,&quot; I whispered, &quot;cowardly enough? Which is it? Which?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, as still the long hours of the night went on, and I lay on my
-pallet staring up into the darkness, listening to the hours told over
-and over again by the bells, until my soul sickened at their sound,
-watching a glint of the moon's rays on the metal roof of the
-cathedral, I answered my own question, reasoned with myself that
-self-destruction was the coward's, not the brave man's, act, and
-resolved at last to cast that awful resolution behind me, to endure
-and meet my fate like a man, as a gallant soldier should.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And so, eased--I scarce knew why--by my determination, I fell at last
-into a tranquil sleep, and dreamt that I was back in England, walking
-in my father's old flower garden in the Weald, with my love, Juana, by
-my side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Some unaccustomed noise awoke me from that fair dream--something to
-which I was not used in the long silence of the nights--some sound
-which, as I raised myself on my elbow and peered around the cell, I
-could not understand; for in that cell there was no other presence, as
-for a moment I had imagined when I sprang up, half asleep and half
-awake; the moon, which had now overtopped the cathedral towers, showed
-that plain enough. Deep scurrying clouds were passing beneath her face
-swiftly--obscuring sometimes her brilliancy for some moments, 'tis
-true; yet, as she emerged now and again from them, her flood poured in
-and lit up the whole chamber. There was no one in it but myself!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What, therefore, was the sound I had heard? Stealthy footsteps
-outside?--those of my doomsmen, perhaps!--or was it some silent
-executioner about to steal in on me in the night, thereby to prevent
-the publicity of a death in the market place--a death which might by
-chance be reported to my own countrymen afar off, and like enough, if
-the war rolled down this way, be bitterly avenged? Was that it?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again beneath the moon there passed heavy clouds, extinguishing her
-light so that for a moment my prison was once more steeped in
-darkness--I found myself thinking that there would be snow ere
-morning; that, if that morning brought my death, 'twould be a
-bleak and wintry scene which the flames of the <i>braséro</i> would
-illuminate!--then through a break in those clouds a ray stole forth, a
-ray that glinted in through the iron bars of the window grate, across
-the stone-flagged floor, and onward to the heavily clamped door, then
-was arrested there--one spot shining out amidst those beams with the
-brightness and the dazzle of a diamond.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What was that thing, that spot on which the ray glinted so?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Creeping toward the door, as silently and lightly as I could go, I
-reached it, put out my finger and touched that gleaming spark, and
-found that it proceeded from the extremity of a key which was in the
-lock and which now protruded by a trifle into the room. It was the
-insertion of that key which had awakened me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet--what did it mean, and why, when once in the lock, was it not
-turned; why not followed by the entry of one or more persons into the
-cell?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Were they coming back later to fall on me? Had the key been first
-inserted by some who had withdrawn directly afterward, so that, if the
-noise awakened me, I should sleep again shortly, when they could
-return to finish their work? This must be the true explanation--I was
-to be executed in the depth of the night when all were asleep in the
-old town, when no cry of anguish, no scream from one being done to
-death, would be heard.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet,&quot; I thought to myself, &quot;these precautions are useless. As well
-here as in the flames to-morrow. What matters where or how?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At that moment my ears caught a sound--something was passing down the
-stone passage outside--something that was not the heavy tread of the
-jailer. Instead, a muffled sound--yet perceptible to me. A shuffling,
-scraping sound as though one who was shoeless was dragging each foot
-carefully along after the other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I saw the end of the key which projected through the lock turn--I
-saw it sparkle in the moon's rays--once it grated harshly, creaked!
-And, slowly, a moment afterward the door opened inward, leaving the
-passage outside dark and cavernous. He who had so opened it with one
-hand carried no light in the other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Stepping back from it, watching what should happen next--yet, I swear
-before heaven, with no fear at my heart--why should there be, since I
-desired to die and join my love? yet still with that heart beating
-loudly from excitement--I saw the blackness of the doorway blurred
-with a deeper intensity by a form standing outside it. I saw the
-moonbeams reach that form, lighting it up for a moment and glistening
-on the eyes of it. I saw before me the great figure and heavy, stolid
-face of my dumb, impenetrable jailer. The mute! Also observed that
-under his arm he carried something long--a sword.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">His eyes upon me, he advanced into the cell--I seeing that his feet
-were bare except for thick, coarse stockings which he wore--yet making
-no motion as though to attack me, his action not such as would have
-rendered a more desperate man than myself resolved to defend himself.
-Then slowly, while I, my back against the farthest wall, stared at him
-more in wonder than in awe, he raised the arm under which the sword
-was not borne, and motioned to me with his finger, crooked somewhat,
-to follow him, pointing a moment afterward down the dark passage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So,&quot; I whispered to myself, drawing a deep breath as I did so, &quot;the
-hour has come. He bids me follow him. I understand--it is to be done
-before daylight. Well, I am ready. God give me strength and pardon
-me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I made ready to follow him, while he, observing this, prepared to
-lead the way.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All was profound and dark outside that cell when once we were in the
-passage--so dark that, ere I had barely reached it, I felt his great
-hand upon my arm, felt him clutching my sleeves between his fingers.
-And thus together we went on, he silent as a corpse, except for his
-breathing, which sometimes I heard--sometimes, too, felt upon my
-cheek--I going to my death.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One thing I noticed, even in these moments of intensity. We went the
-opposite way from that by which I had first been brought--the opposite
-way from which his footsteps, when he had been shod, had invariably
-sounded; also the opposite way from which my love had come to bid me a
-last farewell, and had been carried insensible after our parting.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whither was I being taken?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The end of the corridor was reached in the darkness; I knew that by
-the fact that his grasp tightened perceptibly on my sleeve; also that,
-by a pressure of his fingers on it, he was turning me somewhat to the
-left; likewise, that grasp put a degree of curb upon me; a moment
-later seemed to signify that I was to go on again. And it felt to me
-that, in a way, I was being supported--held up.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Another instant, and I knew why. We were descending stairs--on the way
-down, doubtless, to some exit that should lead to my place of doom!
-Still I resisted not. One path to oblivion served as well as another.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">By the manner in which the steps were cut I knew at once that we were
-in some tower, and that the stairs were circular; also my hand, which
-I kept against the side, told me the same thing. Moreover, there were
-<i>[oe]illets</i>, or arrow slits, in the wall, through which I could see
-the moon shining on another wall, which seemed to be some fifty paces
-off--probably, I thought, the opposite wall of some courtyard built
-into, or by the side of, the huge ramparts.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Of sound there was none, no noise of any kind, no tramp of sentry to
-be heard, although I knew well enough that on the ramparts themselves
-soldiers were kept constantly on guard. Nothing; all as still as
-death, the death to which I was being led.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At last the stairs ended. My feet told me we were on the level now, a
-level into which they sank somewhat as I took step after step, whereby
-I judged that we were walking on sand, and wondered in what part of
-that prison, of those huge ramparts, we might be. Surely, I thought,
-some lowermost vault or dungeon, perhaps beneath the foundations of
-the structure, beneath the rocks between which the river flowed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God!&quot; I murmured to myself, &quot;is this my fate? To be immured
-forever in some dark dungeon in the bowels of the earth, where neither
-light, nor sound--never hope--can come again. Better death at once,
-swift and merciful, than this. Far better.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet almost it seemed to my now frighted heart that this alone could be
-the case.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The air reeked and was clammy, as though with long confinement in this
-underground place, and by remaining ever unrefreshed from without by
-heaven's pure breezes was mawkish and sickly as the breath of a
-charnel house--perhaps 'twas one!--perhaps those who died here were
-left to fester and moulder away till their corpses turned to skeletons
-and their skeletons to dust; to die here, where no cry for help could
-issue forth, no more than any sound except a muffled one could
-penetrate, as I knew at this moment, for far above I heard a deep boom
-that seemed like the muffled roar of a cannon--a sound that was in
-truth the eternal bell of the cathedral telling the hour; also another
-broke on my ear--a swift, rushing noise, yet deadened, too--the sound,
-I thought, of the Minho passing near.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, all at once--as I knew that the sickly, reeking air would choke
-me, felt sure that ere many paces more had been traversed I must reel
-and fall upon that sanded floor--there blew upon my face a gust of
-air--oh! God! it was as though I had changed a monumental vault all
-full of rankling dead for some pure forest through which fresh breezes
-swept--far down toward where my dimmed eyes gazed I saw a glimmer of
-something that looked like the light of a coming dawn.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I thanked heaven that, at least, these horrid vaults were not to
-be my prison or my grave; that, let whatever might befall me, my
-punishment was not to be dealt out here.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And ever still as I went on that stricken man walked by my side, held
-my arm with his hand, and directed the way toward the sombre light
-that gleamed afar.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4>
-
-<h5>WHAT HAS HAPPENED?</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The light increased as we advanced; the space it occupied grew larger;
-also it seemed to be entering at what I now judged to be the mouth, or
-exit, of some narrow, vaulted passage, through which we were
-progressing and arriving at the end of; almost, too, it seemed as if
-this passage was itself growing less dark; as if now--as I turned my
-eyes to where the mute walked by my side--the outline of his form was
-becoming visible.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What was I to find at the end of this outlet--what to see awaiting me
-when at last I stood at the opening in the midst of the wintry dawn--a
-scaffold, or the <i>braséro?</i> Which? I perceived now--my eyes
-accustoming themselves to the dusky gloom--that this vaulted way, or
-corridor, was one hewn through a bed of rock, and roughly, too,
-blasted, perhaps, in earlier days; and that all along its sides were
-great slabs, or masses, of this rock, that lay where they had fallen.
-Perceived something else, also--a man crouching down behind one of the
-fallen blocks, his cape held across his face by one hand, so that
-naught but the eyes were visible; the eyes--and one other thing that
-shone and glistened even in the surrounding gloom--a huge gold
-earring, of the circumference of a crown-piece, which fell over the
-crimson edge, or guarding, of that cloak.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Where had I seen a man wearing such earrings as that before? Where?
-Then, even as I went on to my death, I remembered--recalled the man.
-'Twas he who had cried out to the Alcáide in the court, bidding him
-question Eaton as to how he knew so much of Gramont's past--yet--what
-doing here, why hiding behind that fallen mass? Was there some one
-within these dungeons whom he sought--some one for whom an attempted
-rescue was to be planned? I knew of none--knew of no other prisoner
-within these walls--since now Gramont was, must be, as far away as his
-unhappy child--my lost love, Juana. Yet, perhaps, it was not very like
-I should have known.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But now the end was at hand. I scarce cared to turn my eyes to observe
-whether or not the mute had seen the sailor shrinking behind the
-stone; instead, nerved myself, by both prayer and fierce
-determination, to meet my fate, to make my exit into the open as
-bravely as became a man; to let not one of my executioners see that I
-feared them or the flames that were to burn the life out of me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So we drew near the mouth of the passage--moving through the gloom
-that was as the gloom of a shuttered and darkened house on some wintry
-morn--I seeing that, beyond and outside, was a sloping, stone-flagged
-decline that led down to a lane which ran out into the open country
-beyond. We were, therefore, outside the walls of Lugo, and I deemed
-that it was here, unknown to the townspeople, that I was to meet my
-fate.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We stood a moment later on that stone-covered descent, and I gazed
-around it startled--amazed! For here, upon it, was no hideous
-<i>braséro</i> piled up with logs of wood, and drenched with resin and
-pitch to make those logs burn more fiercely; no upright plank nor beam
-against which the sufferer's hand--my hand!--was to be nailed through
-the palm; no executioners clad in black from head to foot. Instead, a
-man in peasant's dress--green breeches, leather <i>zapátas</i> and a
-sheepskin jacket. A peasant holding by the reins two horses, one
-black, the other dappled grey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I felt almost as though once more I should faint--felt as I had done
-in that reeking, mouldy corridor through which I had come--became
-sick, indeed, at the relief, even though 'twere for an hour or so
-only, which was accorded me from instant death, since I knew that here
-that death could not be dealt out.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I turned to the deaf and dumb man--if such he was--who had now
-released my arm--had done so, indeed, since the half light had been
-reached--and implored him to tell me what was intended.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For answer--he guessed, no doubt, the import of my words--he pointed
-to the horses and made signs I should mount one of them. And I,
-incredulous, asking God inwardly what was meant, went toward the black
-one and seizing its reins and twisting a lock of its mane around my
-thumb prepared to do as I was bid, yet with my nerves tingling and
-trembling so that I scarce knew whether I could reach the saddle or
-not.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, ere the attempt was made, as I raised my foot to the iron, the
-mute touched my arm, felt in his belt with the other hand and,
-producing a piece of paper, gave it to me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was from Juana; ran thus in English:</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal" style="font-size:smaller">
-Your road is through Samos, Caldelas and the other Viana. At Terroso
-you will cross the frontier. The jailer will guide you to us. Come
-quickly, so that thereby my fate may be decided.</p>
-
-<p style="text-indent:60%">Juana.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">That was all. All--from her to me! From her to me! No word of love
-accompanying the message. Not one!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She had saved me in some way--had induced the Alcáide to bring about
-my escape also--had done this, yet could send me no greeting such as
-she must have known I hungered for. Was it shame, remorse, that made
-her so silent and so cold? Heartbroken, I thrust the letter into my
-pocket, and, at a sign from the mute, mounted the horse, he doing the
-same with the other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, ere we gave them their reins, he leant across and put into my
-hands the sword he had carried under his arm since first he opened the
-door of my cell; a sword long and serviceable-looking, with a great
-hilt and curled quillon; one that I had seen another like somewhere,
-though where it was I could not recall.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span style="letter-spacing: 9px">
-* * * * * * * * *</span></p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas over twenty leagues to Terroso, I learnt in the course of our
-ride. Diminishing those leagues moment by moment, we went on and on,
-the black horse that I bestrode never faltering in its quick pace, the
-grey keeping close to it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I, my brain whirling, my heart beating tumultuously within my
-breast, my whole being--my soul!--shaken by the release from an awful
-death which had come to me, would have given all that I was possessed
-of if from that stricken, silent, terrible companion by my side I
-could have extracted one word--gleaned from him one jot or atom of
-information! Yet to my repeated exclamations he, seeing that I was
-speaking to him, shook his head persistently; when I made signs to him
-in the alphabet which I felt sure he knew, he turned his face away and
-rode on stolidly. Had a dead man, a spectre, been riding ever by my
-side, swiftly when I rode swiftly, halting when I halted, neither
-could have been more terrible to me than this living creature, so
-immutable and impenetrable.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I was sore beset--distraught, my mind full of fearful fancies! Fancies
-that I should find Juana dead--though, too, I imagined that she would
-not slay herself until she had made sure of my safety, else why her
-letter?--fancies that, since the letter contained no word or hint of
-love, she had forced herself to tear me out of her heart forever;
-forced herself to do so because now she knew she could never be aught
-to me again. These fancies, these thoughts, were awful in their
-intensity; were made doubly so by this silent creature who never
-quitted my side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And once my agony of nerves grew so great that I turned round upon
-him--gesticulating fiercely--hating myself for my brutality in doing
-so against one who was, in truth, my saviour--shrieking at him:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Speak! Speak! For God's sake, speak! Utter some word. Give some sign
-of being alive--a reasoning thing. Speak, I say, or leave me--else I
-shall slay you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I shuddered and could have slain my own self at the man's action.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For he turned and looked at me--it was in the fast gathering
-twilight, as side by side always, we were slowly riding up a mountain
-path--looked--then, as I gazed, the tears rolled down his coarse face!
-And, poor unhappy, afflicted thing! those tears continued to trickle
-down that face till night hid it from my eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I knew now that he understood at least, that he comprehended the words
-of pity and remorse I poured forth before the darkness came; at least
-the touch I made gently on his sleeve was read aright by him. For on
-his broad, expressionless face, to me for so long a stolid mask, there
-came a placid smile, and once he returned my touch lightly as still we
-rode on, and on, and on.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We halted that night to rest our horses and ourselves at a miserable
-inn, high up in the mountains, a place round which the snow was
-falling in great flakes, that seemed, indeed, to be embedded in snow.
-A ghastly, horrid place in which, as I sat shuddering by the fire,
-while my companion and the landlord slept near it--wondering if by now
-Juana had accomplished her dreadful purpose, unable longer to bear the
-company of the man, Morales, to whom she had sold herself; or, almost
-worse still, the company of her sin stained father; wondering too, if
-by now that splendid form was stiff in death!--I almost cursed the
-escape that had come to me. In truth, I think that now, upon this
-night, amidst the horrors of this lonely mountain inn, I was almost a
-madman; for the soft beat of the flakes upon the glass of the window
-seemed to my frenzied mind like the tapping of ghostly fingers; as I
-fixed my eyes upon those flakes and saw them alight one by one upon
-the panes and then dissolve and vanish, it looked to me as though they
-were fingers that scratched at the window and were withdrawn only to
-return a moment later. Also the wind screamed round the house--I
-started once, feeling sure I heard a woman--Juana--shriek my name,
-plucked at the sword by my side and would have made for the door, but
-that the landlord laughed at me and pushed me back, saying that those
-shrieks were heard nightly and all through the night during the
-winter.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At last, however, I slept, wrapped in my cloak before the peat fire,
-the mute in another chair by my side. And so, somehow, the night wore
-through. The morning came, and we were on our road once more, ten
-leagues still to be compassed ere the frontier was reached, with,
-behind us, as now I gathered from my mutilated companion's manner in
-answer to my questions, the possibility that we might be pursued. That
-after us, in hot chase, might be coming some from Lugo who had
-discovered our escape.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The mountain water courses and rivulets hummed beneath the frozen snow
-bound over them by the bitter frost, the tree boughs waved above our
-heads and across our path as, gradually descending once more to the
-plain, the chestnuts and the oak trees took the place of the gaunt
-black pines left behind above; once on this bitter morning we saw the
-sun steal out from amidst the clouds--lying down low on the horizon as
-though setting instead of rising. Yet on we rode for our lives, with
-upon me a deeper desire than the salvation of my own existence--the
-hope that I should be in time to save Juana, to wrench her from
-Morales ere it was too late, to bear her away at last to happiness and
-love unspeakable. Rode on, my black horse stumbling once over a mass
-of stone rolled down from the heights above; the dappled grey coming
-to its haunches from a similar cause, yet both lifted quickly by a
-sharp turn of our wrists and rushing on again down the declivity,
-danger in every stride and only avoided by God's mercy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The leagues flew by--were left behind--a long billowy plain arrived
-at, sprinkled with hamlets from which the cheerful smoke rose to the
-sky; the mute had passes which took us through that other town of
-Viana; the last spot of importance was reached--and passed!--that lay
-between us and the border--between us and Portugal and safety.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then once more our beasts slackened in their stride, again the ground
-rose upward, once more the hills were before us, above them at the
-summit was the frontier, Terroso. Another hour and we should be
-there--Juana's and my fate determined.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To use whips--neither of us had spurs--was cruel, yet there was no
-other way; therefore we plied them, pressed reeking flanks, rode on
-and on mercilessly. And now the end was at hand; afar off I saw a
-cabin over which floated both the banner of Spain and of Portugal. We
-were there some moments later--the mute's papers again examined--our
-passage allowed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We had escaped from Spain!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You ride quickly,&quot; the Portuguese <i>aduanista</i> said; &quot;seek some
-others, perhaps, who come before you?&quot; and he addressed himself to my
-companion, probably because he bore the passports. Then continued: &quot;If
-'tis a seńor and seńora you desire, they are in the <i>fonda</i> half a
-league further on.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>They</i>,&quot; he said, &quot;'<i>They</i>' God be praised!&quot; I murmured. Had any
-tragedy occurred it would not have been &quot;they.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not waiting to answer, but briefly nodding my thanks, we went on, the
-last half league dwindling to little more than paces now.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And then I saw the <i>fonda</i>, a place no bigger than a wooden cabin, I
-saw a woman seated on a bench outside against its wall, her elbows
-upon her knees, her dark head buried in her hands.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She heard the ring of our horses' hoofs upon the road, all sodden as
-it was with half-melted snow, and sprang to her feet--then advanced
-some paces and, shading her eyes, looked up the way that we were
-coming; dashed next her hand across those eyes as though doubting what
-she saw, and ran down the road toward us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As I leapt from my horse she screamed, &quot;Mervan!&quot; and threw herself
-into my arms, her lips meeting mine in one long kiss, then staggered
-back some paces from me, exclaiming:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How! How, oh, my love, how--how have you escaped--found your way
-here--to me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How?&quot; I repeated after her, startled at the question; startled, too,
-at the tone of her voice. &quot;How! Do I not owe my salvation to you--to
-your power over him--the Alcáide?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God! No!&quot; she answered. &quot;Never would he have aided you to escape.&quot;
-Then, suddenly, as some thought struck her, she screamed aloud:
-&quot;Mervan--Mervan--where is my unhappy father?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your father! Is he not here?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No! No! No! Oh, God! what has happened? Has he been left behind to
-meet his doom?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, as she spoke, she reeled and would have fallen had I not caught
-her in my arms.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4>
-
-<h5>&quot;LIAR, I WILL KILL YOU!&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">He had been left behind--and I was here! He whose escape had been
-arranged for was still a prisoner--I, whose doom had been fixed, was
-free.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What did it mean? What mystery had taken place?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One glance toward the <i>fonda</i> fifty yards away was sufficient to show
-that mystery there was--as unintelligible to another as to Juana. And
-more than mystery!--that my presence here was as hateful as
-unexpected, to one person at least. To Morales, the Alcáide!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For even as my love recovered sufficiently to be able to stand without
-my assistance, though still leaning heavily upon me, I--looking toward
-that <i>fonda</i>--saw Morales issuing rapidly from it, his sword carried
-in his left hand, his right hand plucking the blade from the scabbard.
-And--more ominous still of what his intentions were, as well as of his
-fury!--as he ran toward us he flung the now empty sheath away from him
-and rushed forward, the bare blade gleaming.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then as he reached the spot where we both stood together, the mute
-behind us--while, even as I too plucked the sword the poor creature
-had furnished me with from its scabbard and stood upon my guard, I
-saw that his stolid face expressed not only fear but something
-else--astonishment!--Morales shouted, his words tumbling pell mell
-over each other so much as to be difficult of understanding.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wretches! Traitor! Traitress! 'Tis thus I am deceived--hoodwinked!
-Tricked and ruined so that your lover may be restored to your false
-arms. So be it--thus, also, I avenge myself,&quot; and--horror!--he made a
-pass at Juana as she stood by my side. He was a Spaniard--and his love
-had turned to hate and gall!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet ere the shriek she uttered had ceased to ring on the wintry
-morning air, the deadly thrust that was aimed full at her breast was
-parried by my own blade; putting her behind me with my left hand, I
-struck full at him, resolved that ere another five minutes were over
-his own life should pay for that craven attempt; struck full at his
-own breast, missing it only by an inch, yet driving him back from me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Back, step by step, yet knowing even as I did so that' it was no odds
-on me in this encounter, that here was a swordsman who would dispute
-every thrust of mine; that it would be lucky if his long blade did not
-thread my ribs ere my own weapon found his heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It behooved me to be careful, I knew. Already, in the first moment, he
-had settled down to fighting carefully and cautiously; already one
-devilish Italian thrust was given--he must have crossed the Alps, I
-thought, to learn it!--that almost took me unawares; that, had my
-parry not been quick, would have brought his quillon hurtling at my
-breast, with the blade through me. Yet, it had failed! and with the
-failure the chance was gone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know your thrust,&quot; I whispered, maybe hissed, at him; &quot;'twill serve
-no more.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But even as I said these words it came to me that I should not win
-this fight, that he was the better man--my master--at the game--that I
-was lost. And as I thought this I saw--while we shifted ground a
-little on the sodden snow--the mute standing gazing earnestly, almost
-fascinated, upon us; I saw some people at the door of the <i>fonda</i>--a
-man and a woman--regarding us with horror-stricken glances--I saw
-Juana on her knees, perhaps praying! It might be so, since her head
-was buried in her hands!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And if he won, if he slew me, even wounded and disabled me, she was
-lost, too; with me out of the way, with her father dead or still a
-prisoner, nothing could save her. Her last hope would be gone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That spurred me, egged me on, put a fierce and fresh determination in
-my heart, since I had not lost my courage, but only my confidence.
-That, and one other thing; for I saw upon the melting snow beneath our
-feet, even as we trod it into water, a tinge of crimson; I saw a few
-drops lie spotting it--and I knew that that blood was not mine.
-Therefore, I had touched him, had only missed his life by a hair's
-breadth; next time it might not be drops--might be the heart's blood
-of him who had sought that of my loved one!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Still, I could not do it, could not thrust through and through him.
-Every drive, every assault, was parried easily. Once, when I lunged so
-near him that I heard his silk waistcoat rip, he laughed a low,
-mocking laugh as he thrust my blade aside with a turn of his iron
-wrist; I could not even, as I tried, take him in the sword arm and so
-disable him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also, I knew what was in his mind, specially since, for some few
-moments, he had ceased to thrust back at me. He was bent on tiring me
-out. Then--then--his opportunity would have come, would be at hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Disable him! Disable him!&quot; Why did those words haunt my brain, ring
-through it again and again; seem to deaden even the scraping hiss of
-steel against steel. &quot;Disable him!&quot; What memory was arising in that
-brain of some one, something, long forgotten? A second later, even as
-I felt my point bring pressed lower and lower by his own blade, knew a
-lunge was coming--parried it as it came--safely once more, thank
-God!--I remembered, knew what that memory meant.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Recalled a little, hunchbacked Italian <i>escrimeur</i> who used to haunt a
-fence school at the back of the Exchange in the Strand; a man whose
-knowledge of attack was poor in the extreme, yet who could earn a
-beggar's wage by teaching some marvellous methods of disarming an
-adversary. And I had flung him a crown more than once to be taught his
-tricks!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now those crowns should bear interest!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I changed my tactics, lunged no more; our blades became silent; they
-ceased to hiss like drops of water falling on live coals or hot iron;
-almost they lay motionless together, mine over his, yet I feeling
-through blade and hilt the strength of that black, hairy wrist which
-held the other weapon. Also, I think he felt the strength of mine;
-once his eye shifted, though had the moment been any other the shift
-would have been unnoticeable.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That was my time! Swift as lightning, I, remembering the dwarf's
-lessons of long ago--why did I remember also the little sniggering
-chuckle he used to utter as he taught them?--drew back my sword an
-inch, then thrust, then back again with a sharp wrench, and, lo!
-Morales' sword was flying through the air three feet above his
-head--he was weaponless! My own was drawn back a second later, another
-moment I should have avenged his assassin's thrust at Juana--yet I
-could not do it. For he, recognising he was doomed, stood there before
-me, his arms folded over his breast, his eyes confronting mine.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Curse you!&quot; he said, &quot;you have won. Well--kill me. At once.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No need for me to say that could not be. In the moment that I twisted
-his weapon out of his wrist I had meant to slay him, had drawn back my
-own weapon to thrust it through chest and lungs and back, and stretch
-him dead at my feet--yet now I spared him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Villain as he was--scoundrel who would traffic with a broken-hearted
-woman for her honour and her soul as a set-off against her father's
-safety, and, in doing so, also betray the country he served--I could
-not slay a defenceless man.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">His sword had fallen at my feet; one of them was upon it. I motioned
-to him now to return to the <i>fonda</i>--to begone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have missed your quarry,&quot; I said; &quot;'twill never fall to your lure
-again. Away!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, still standing there before us--for now Juana had once more flown
-to my side, and was sobbing bitterly, her wild, passionate words
-expressing partly her thanks to God for my double safety, and partly
-her bewailings that her father had gone to his fate--he had something
-to say, could not depart without a malediction.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Curse you both!&quot; he exclaimed once more. &quot;Curse you! Had I known of
-your trick you should all have burnt and grilled on the <i>braséro</i> ere
-this--ay, even you, wanton!--ere I had let you fool me so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he turned away as though to go back to the <i>fonda</i>, yet returned
-again, and, striding back to where the mute stood motionless, his
-expression one of absolute vacancy--as though, in truth, he was only
-now become dumb from utter surprise--he struck at him full in the face
-with his clenched fist.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dolt, idiot, hound!&quot; he said. &quot;Was it to aid in such treachery
-against me as this that I saved you from the Inquisition? God! that I
-had left them to take your useless life! Dumb fool!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I, standing there, with Juana still clinging to my neck, as she had
-done since the duel was over, saw the man stagger back and wipe the
-blood from his lips; saw, too, his hands clench firmly; saw him take
-one step forward, as though he meant to throw himself upon Morales;
-then stop suddenly, and do nothing. Perhaps even now, after this foul
-blow, he remembered that he had been saved from death once by him who
-struck that blow.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But a moment later he approached the Alcáide, though now humbly, and
-like a beaten slave who sues for pardon, and entreats that no further
-punishment shall be dealt out to him, and, an instant after, began,
-with fingers and hands and many strange motions, to tell his master
-something--something in a dumb language that was, still, not the deaf
-and dumb language in common use, and which I myself chanced to know,
-yet one that none could doubt both of these men were in the habit of
-conversing in.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He was telling some strange tale, I saw and understood by one glance
-at my late opponent's face; neither could any doubt that who gazed
-upon it!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At first that face expressed amazement, incredulity--all the emotions
-that are to be observed on the countenance of one who listens to some
-story which he either cannot believe, or thinks issues, at best, from
-a maniac. Yet gradually, too, there came over the face of Morales
-another look--the look of one who does believe at last, in spite of
-himself; also there dawned on it a hideous, gloating expression, such
-as might befit a fiend who listens to the tortured cries of a victim.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What did it mean? What tale was that stricken creature telling him by
-those symbols, which none but he understood? What? What?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A moment later we knew--if Morales did not lie to us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The mute had ceased his narrative, his hands made no further signs,
-and, slowly, he stepped back again to where the horses we had
-travelled on stood together, the reins of one tied to the other--and
-Morales turned to us, his features still convulsed with that horrible
-expression of gloating.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have wronged you,&quot; he said, raising his forefinger and pointing it
-at Juana, who shuddered and clasped me closer even as he did so; &quot;and
-you,&quot; glancing at me. &quot;The treachery was not yours, but another's;
-unless--unless&quot;--and he paused as though seeking for words--&quot;unless it
-should be termed otherwise. Say, not treachery, but--sublime
-sacrifice.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What!&quot; from both her lips and mine. &quot;What!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your father,&quot; he said, &quot;had his chance&quot;--and again that forefinger
-was pointed at her--&quot;this poor fool, my servant, went to set him free;
-the horse was waiting for him--only, instead, it has borne <i>you</i> to
-safety&quot;--and now he glanced at me--&quot;also there was his sword for
-him--that by your side.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God! My God!&quot; I heard Juana whisper on my breast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Only he--this buccaneer--would not accept it, not take it. He,
-stained deep with crime as he was, his name an accursed one through
-all the Indies--men spit upon the ground there, they say, with
-loathing when they hear it mentioned, even now--could bear all things
-but one. Shall I tell you what that one thing is?&quot; and he glanced
-again at Juana, a very hell of hate in his look.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But she could only moan upon my bosom and murmur: &quot;My father! Oh, my
-father!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He could not bear,&quot; Morales went on, &quot;that his child should be what
-he knew she had become by now--my friend----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Liar!&quot; I cried. &quot;I will kill you for this.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Could not bear that she should bring deeper disgrace than even he had
-done upon your tainted names. Therefore he refused to come; therefore
-he preferred the flames to which he has gone&quot;--a wild, piercing scream
-broke from Juana as he said those words--&quot;and--so--so--that there
-should be nothing rise up to prevent him from going to his death, so
-that he should put away from himself all chance of salvation from that
-death and earn his oblivion from disgrace, he persuaded this fool that
-a mistake had been made--that 'twas you, not he, who was to be saved,
-allowed to escape.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You lie,&quot; I said again. &quot;You lie. Some part of this story is true,
-some false, Gramont never believed that she would give herself to you;
-knew that she meant to slay herself the instant she was assured of his
-safety. Spanish dog, you lie, and I will have your life for it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is true,&quot; he said hoarsely, &quot;as true as that an hour after you
-left Lugo he was led out and burnt at the <i>braséro</i>--the <i>braséro</i>
-that was prepared for you. Now,&quot; and once more he addressed Juana,
-&quot;you have your lover back again--be happy in the possession; in the
-knowledge that his life is saved by the loss of your father's. Be
-happy in that.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE DEAD MAN'S EYES--THE DEAD MAN'S HANDS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Was Juana dying, I asked myself that night--dying of misery and of all
-that she had gone through? God, He only knew--soon I should know, too.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ere I had carried her to the <i>fonda</i>, Morales had disappeared, his
-afflicted follower with him--ere we reached the miserable room, in
-which she had passed the two nights that had elapsed since she had
-come here with him who had bartered for the sacrifice of her honour
-against her father's safety, I heard the trample of horses' hoofs, I
-saw from the inn window both those men ride swiftly away, their road
-being that which led on into Portugal.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was not possible that I should follow him and exact vengeance for
-all that he had done or attempted to do against her, force him once
-more to an encounter, disarm him again--and, when he was thus
-disarmed, spare him no further. Not possible, because, henceforth, my
-place was by her side. I must never leave her again in life--leave her
-who had come to this through her love of me, her determination to
-follow me through danger after danger, reckless of what might befall.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She lay now upon her bed, feverish and sometimes incoherent, yet, at
-others, sane and in her right mind, and it was at one of such moments
-as these that I, sitting by her side, heard her whisper:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan, where is that man--Morales?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is gone, dear heart; he will trouble you no more.
-And--and--remember we are free. As soon as you are restored we can
-leave here--there is nothing to stop us now. My journey through Spain
-and France can never be recommenced--we must make for England by sea
-somehow. Then, when I have placed you in safety, I must find my way
-across to Flanders.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For a while she lay silent after I had said this; lay there, her
-lustrous eyes open, and with the fever heightening and intensifying,
-if such were possible, her marvellous beauty. For now the carmine of
-her cheeks and lips was--although fever's ensign!--even more
-strikingly lovely than before; this woman on whom I gazed so fondly
-was beyond all compare the most beautiful creature on which my eyes
-had ever rested. As I had thought at first, so, doubly, I thought now.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Presently she moaned a little, not from bodily pain, but agony of
-mind, as I learnt shortly--then she said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan, why do you stay by my side--why not go at once back to your
-own land? Leave me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juana!&quot; I exclaimed, deeming that I had mistaken her state, and that,
-in truth, she was beside herself. Then added, stupidly and in a dazed
-manner: &quot;Leave you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay. Why stay by me? You have heard, know all, whose child--to my
-eternal shame!--I am. The child of that bloodstained man, Gramont.
-Ay,&quot; she said, again, &quot;he, that other, Morales, spoke true. There is
-no name in all the Indies remembered with such hate and loathing as
-his. And I--I--am his child. Go--leave me to die here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juana,&quot; I said, &quot;can you hear me, understand what I am saying--going
-to say to you? Is your brain clear enough to comprehend my words?
-Speak--answer me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For reply she turned those eyes on me; beneath the dark dishevelled
-curls I saw their clear glance--I knew that all I should say would be
-plain to her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Listen to my words,&quot; I continued therefore. &quot;Listen--and believe;
-never doubt more. Juana, I love you with my whole heart and
-soul--before all and everything else this world holds for me. I love
-you. I love you. I love you,&quot; and as I spoke I bent forward and
-pressed my lips to her hot burning ones. &quot;And you tell me to leave
-you, because, forsooth! you are his child. Oh! my sweet, my sweet, if
-you were the child of one five thousand times worse than he has been,
-ay! even though Satan claimed you for his own, I would love you till
-my last breath, would never quit your side. Juana, we are each other's
-forever now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No! No! No!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I say,&quot; I cried almost fiercely. &quot;Yes. We are each other's
-alone. You are mine, mine, mine. I have no other thought, no other
-hope in all this world but you. If--if--our faith were the same I
-would send for a priest now who should make us one; there should be no
-further moment elapse in all the moments of eternity before you were
-my wife.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I felt the long slim hand tighten on mine for an instant, then release
-it a moment later; but she said no more for a time. Yet the look on
-her face was one of happiness extreme. After a while, however, she
-spoke again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The admiral knew,&quot; she whispered. &quot;He had found out my secret.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For a moment I could not recall what she referred to--the incidents
-which had happened in such quick succession since we had quitted the
-fleet had almost obliterated from my memory the recollection of all
-that had taken place prior to that time. Yet now I remembered,
-and--remembering--there came back to me Sir George Rooke's strange
-diffidence after she had seized his hand and pressed it to her heart.
-Also, I recalled the deference with which he had treated her whom I
-thought then to be no more than a handsome, elegant youth, as well as
-my feeling of surprise at that deference.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And still, as I reflected over this, there was one other thing in
-connection with him which also came back to me; his words, to wit,
-that there were even worse things than shot or steel or death to cloud
-a brave man's career--that many a soldier had gone down before worse
-than these. And I knew now against what he had intended to warn
-me--against the woman now lying here sore stricken, the woman whom I
-loved and worshipped, the one who had been to me as faithful as a dog.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So be it,&quot; I said to myself, &quot;so be it. If I am to become bankrupt
-and shipwrecked through my love for her, I must be. Henceforth she is
-all in all to me, and there is nothing else in my life. Yet, up to
-now, the admiral's warning has been but little realised--I owe no ruin
-to her, but, rather, salvation.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For I could not but recall that 'twas through her that any loophole of
-escape had come to me in the prison of Lugo; to her unhappy father
-that I owed, if Morales had spoken true, the absolute escape itself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Even as I sat there meditating thus she moaned again: &quot;My father. My
-lost, doomed father,&quot; and once more I heard her whisper: &quot;His child!
-His child! The saints pity me!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now I set myself to place that lost father before her in a far
-different light than that in which she regarded him--to make her
-believe that, when almost all in the Indies who had their account with
-the sea had in their time been much as he had been, his crimes were
-not so black as they appeared to her; to also paint in glowing colours
-that sublime sacrifice--Morales had termed it truthfully!--which he
-had made in remaining behind whilst I escaped, in dying while opening
-to me the path to life and freedom.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juana, my sweet,&quot; I said, speaking low, yet as sympathetically as I
-could to her, &quot;Juana, you deem his sin greater than it is. Also,
-remember, 'tis almost certain Morales lies when he said he died
-because--because--of your flight with him. For, remember--what the
-vagabond forgot in his rage and hate!--remember, he knew of your
-resolve, your determination to pretend to give yourself to him in
-exchange for his safety.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As I said these words I saw her eyes glisten, saw her head turned more
-toward me on the pillow--in her face the expression of one to whose
-mind comes back the recollection of a forgotten fact, a truth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Diôs!</i>&quot; she whispered, &quot;it was so. He knew of my intention. 'Tis
-true; Morales lied. Yet,&quot; she went on a moment later, &quot;yet that cannot
-cleanse him from his past sins, purge his soul from the crimes with
-which 'tis stained.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Crimes!&quot; I re-echoed, &quot;Crimes! Think, recall, my beloved, what those
-crimes were. Those of buccaneer, 'tis true, yet not so bad but that
-all like him were not deemed too sunken in sin to be refused pardon by
-Spain, by France, even by my own land. Those pardons were sent out to
-the Indies shortly before he was thought to be lost--had he returned
-to France, then he would have held a position of honour under Louis.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How?&quot; she asked--and now I noticed that in her face there seemed to
-be a look of dawning hope, a look too, as though with that newborn
-hope there was a return of strength accompanied by an absence of such
-utter despair as had broken her down. &quot;How know you that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was there in the court when he was tried,&quot; I said, &quot;I heard his
-words--and none who heard them could doubt their truth, no more than
-they could his fierce denouncement of that unutterable villain, Eaton.
-Juana,&quot; I said, endeavouring to speak as impressively as was in my
-power, to thrust home more decisively the growing conviction to her
-heart that Gramont was not the devil he had been painted, &quot;you must
-teach yourself to think less ill of your father than report has made
-him. And--and remember, he could have escaped an he would; it was, as
-that man said, a sublime sacrifice when he went to his doom.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But why?&quot; she asked, &quot;why?&quot; Though even as she did so, I saw, I knew,
-that in her heart there was the hope and wish to find something that
-might whiten his memory for her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why,&quot; I repeated, bending near to her, speaking as deeply and
-earnestly as I could; above all, the softened feeling I was
-endeavouring to bring about in her heart toward that lost, dead father
-must be made to grow, until at last she should regard his memory with
-pity if naught else. &quot;Why, because as I do believe, as I believe
-before God, he knew we loved each other, Juana----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, Mervan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because his life was already far spent, because ours were in their
-spring; because, it may be, he knew that with him gone and me escaped
-in his place there was the hope of many happy years before you--with
-me--of years always together, of our being ever by each other's side
-until the end. Juana, my beloved, my love, think not of him as one
-beyond pardon and redemption, but rather as one who purified forever
-the errors of his life by the deep tenderness and sacrifice of his
-end.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I had won.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As I concluded she raised herself from the pillows on which she lay,
-the long shapely arms met round my neck, the dark curly head sank to
-my shoulder; soon nothing broke the silence of the room but her sobs.
-Yet ever and again she whispered through her tears: &quot;My father, my
-unhappy father. May God forgive me if I have judged you too harshly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Soon after that I left her sleeping peacefully and with, as it seemed
-to me, much of her fever gone--yet even as she slept I, sitting
-watching by her side, saw still the tears trickle forth from beneath
-the long eyelashes that fringed her cheeks, and knew that in her sleep
-she was dreaming of him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But again I told myself that I had won; that henceforth the memory of
-her father's erring life would not stand between her and me, between
-our love.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The peasant who kept the miserable inn, and whose curiosity as to all
-that had taken place recently--the arrival of Juana and Morales, the
-duel, and then the rapid departure of him and the mute, while I
-remained behind in his place--was scarcely appeased by my curt and
-stern information that the lady above was shortly to become my wife,
-told me that there was no suitable sleeping place for me other than
-the public room. The other seńor, he said, had had to make shift with
-that, since the one spare room which the seńora occupied was the only
-one available in the house. He supposed, he added gruffly, that I,
-too, could do the same thing. There was a bench--and he pointed as he
-spoke to a rough wooden thing which did not promise much ease or
-rest--on which the other seńor had slept; also a deep chair, in which
-one might repose easily before the fire. Would that do? Yes, I
-answered, either would do very well. I was fatigued, and could sleep
-anywhere. All I asked was that I should be left alone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This was done, though ere the man and his wife departed to their
-quarters for the night the latter took occasion to make a remark to
-me. The lady, she observed, if she might make so bold as to say it,
-seemed to be of an undecided frame of mind. When she and the other
-seńor arrived she had understood that he was the person to whom she
-was about to be married. It was strange, she thought, that the lady
-should elope over the border with one seńor, to be married to another.
-However, she added, it was no affair of hers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is no affair of yours,&quot; I said sternly once more. &quot;Leave me alone
-and interfere not in our affairs. Your bill,&quot; I continued, &quot;will be
-paid; that is sufficient.&quot; Whereon she said that was all that was
-required, and so, at last, I was left to myself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Left to myself to sit in the great chair before the fire and muse on
-all that had lately occurred to make my journey toward Flanders a
-failure; to muse still more deeply on the love that had come to me
-unsought, unthought of; the love that, when I had at last accomplished
-my task and rejoined Marlborough, would, I hoped, crown my life.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, as the snow beat against the window, for once more it was a rough
-night and the wind howled here as it had howled the night before,
-across in Spain--while as before the flakes falling on the rude panes
-seemed to my mind to resemble ghostly finger-tips that touched the
-glass and then were drawn off it back into the darkness without--I
-thought also of the now dead and destroyed man, the buccaneer who, all
-blood-guilty as he was, had yet gone to a doom that he might have
-escaped from.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And my thought prevented sleep, even though I had not now slept for
-many, many hours--my terrible reflections unstrung me--it seemed
-almost as if the spirit of that dead man had followed me, was outside
-the rough wooden door; as if, amidst those falling and swift-vanishing
-snowflakes on the glass, I saw his eyes glaring out of the blackness
-into the room. And soon I became over-wrought, the gentle beat of the
-snow became the tap of a hand summoning me to open and admit his
-spectral form--an awful fantasy took possession of me!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Was, I asked myself--as furtively I turned my eyes to those solemn,
-silent flakes that fell upon the window pane, rested there a moment
-gleaming white, then vanished into nothingness--was the lost soul of
-that man hovering outside the door or that window--the soul that but a
-few hours ago had quitted his body?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">If I looked again at the casement should I see, as though behind some
-dark veil, the eyes of Gramont glaring into the room; see those flakes
-of snow take more tangible form--the form of a dead man's fingers
-scratching at the panes, tearing at them to attract my attention?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Distraught--maddened by the terror of my thoughts, fearful of myself,
-of the silence that reigned through the house, I sprang to my feet--I
-was mad!--I must go out into the gloom and blackness of the night----</p>
-
-<p class="normal">God!--what was that?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There <i>was</i> a tapping at the door--a footstep--next a tap at the
-window. The hands were there; I saw the fingers--the snow falling
-round them--on them. I saw, too, the eyes of Gramont peering in at me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is it?&quot; I cried hoarsely. &quot;What? What?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then through the roar of the tempest without, through the shriek of
-the wind, above the loud hum of the torrent, I heard--or was I mad and
-dreaming that I heard?--the words:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Open. To me--her father.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXIX.</h4>
-
-<h5>&quot;LET US KISS AND PART.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">As I unbarred the door that gave directly from the miserable
-living-room of the house to the outside he came in, the snow upon the
-shoulders of the cape he wore--some flakes even upon his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are alive! Escaped!&quot; I whispered, recognising that this was no
-phantom of my brain, but the man himself. &quot;Safe! Thank God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where is she?&quot; he asked, pausing for no greeting, giving me none. &quot;My
-child! Is <i>she</i> safe? Or--have I come too late?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She is here--safe. It is not too late.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">His eyes roamed round the room; then, not seeing her, he continued:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where? I must see her--once.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Once?</i>&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For the last time. After that we shall never meet again. The shadow
-of my life, my past, must fall on her no more. Yet--once--I must see
-her. Lead me to where she is.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She has been ill, delirious--is crushed by all that has
-happened--by----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All that she has learnt,&quot; he interrupted, his voice deep and
-solemn--broken, too. &quot;Yet I must see her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She is asleep above.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For answer to this he made simply a sign, yet one I understood very
-well--a sign that I should delay no longer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come,&quot; I said, &quot;come.&quot; And together we went up the narrow stairs to
-the room she occupied--stole up them, as though in fear of waking her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Pushing the door open gently, we saw by the rays of the <i>veilleuse</i>,
-which I had ordered to be placed in the room, that she was sleeping;
-observed also that our entry did not disturb her; also it was easy to
-perceive that she was dreaming. Sometimes, as we standing there gazed
-down, the long, dark lashes that drooped upon her cheeks quivered;
-from beneath them there stole some tears; once, too, the rosy lips
-parted, and a sigh came from between them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My child, my child!&quot; Gramont whispered to himself, &quot;child of her whom
-I loved better than my life--that we should meet at last, only to part
-forever!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And from his own eyes the tears rolled down--from his! He stooped and
-bent over her; his face approached hers; his lips touched that white
-brow, over which the short-cut hair curled in such glorious
-dishevelment, while he murmured:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Unclose those eyelids once, look for the last time on me.&quot; Then he
-half-turned his head away, as though to prevent his own tears from
-falling on and awakening her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Was he a sorcerer, I wondered, even as I watched--a sorcerer, as well
-as other things unnamable? Had he the power over his own child to thus
-reach her mind and brain, even though both were sunk in a deep,
-feverish sleep? In truth, it appeared so.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For, even as he spoke, those eyelids did unclose, the dark, dreamy
-eyes gazed up into his, while, slowly, the full, white, rounded arms
-encircled his neck, and their lips met, and from him I heard the
-whispered words:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Farewell, farewell, forever. Oh, my child, my child!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet--and I thanked God for it then, as ever since I have thanked Him
-again and again!--he had turned away ere the answering whisper came
-from her lips, had not heard the words that fell from them--the words:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan, Mervan, my beloved!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thanked God he had not known how, in her sleep, she deemed those
-kisses mine, and dreamed of me alone.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span style="letter-spacing: 9px">
-* * * * * * * * *</span></p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twas went on the storm increased, the snow no longer came in flakes
-against the window of the room below, in which we sat, but, instead,
-lay thick and heavy in masses on the sill without--was driven, too,
-against the window by the fierce, tempestuous wind that howled down
-from the mountains above, and rocked the miserable inn.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no going on to-night,&quot; Gramont said, coming in out of the
-storm after having gone forth to attend to the horse that had brought
-him from Lugo, and having bestowed it in the stables, where were the
-animals on which Juana and I had also ridden. &quot;No going on to-night.&quot;
-Then, changing the subject abruptly, he said: &quot;Where is that man?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not pretending to doubt as to whom he made allusion, I said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The Alcáide?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, the Alcáide.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whereon I told him of all that had happened since my arrival with the
-mute, and of his immediate departure further on into Portugal.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You should have slain him,&quot; he said, &quot;the instant you had disarmed
-him. You loved Juana and she you--she told me so when she divulged his
-scheme to me in the prison--you should never have let him go free with
-life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I <i>had</i> disarmed him. I could not slay a weaponless, defenceless
-man.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;One slays a snake--awake or sleeping. He merited death.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet to him, in a manner, we all owe our lives. Juana--I--you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Owe our lives! Owe our lives to him! To one who trafficked with my
-girl's honour as against her father's freedom; a man who betrayed his
-trust to his own country as a means whereby to gratify his own evil
-desires! And for you--for me--what do we owe him? The chance of my
-escape came from another's hand than his.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;From another's! You could have escaped even without that vile compact
-made between--God help us--Juana and him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay--listen. You stood by my side in the court when they tried us; you
-heard a voice in that court; saw the man who called out in loud tones
-to the man, Morales. You saw him, observed, maybe, that he bore about
-him the signs of a sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he spoke there came to me a recollection of something more than
-this--a recollection of where I had seen that man again, of how it was
-he who crouched behind the fallen masses of blasted rock in the
-passage beneath the bed of the river through which I had passed to
-freedom; also, I remembered the great gold rings in his ears, and the
-glistening of one upon the guarding of his cloak as he shrank back
-into the darkness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I remember him,&quot; I said, &quot;very well--also, I saw him again, on the
-night that mute led me forth, helped me to escape.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis so. That man saved me, was bent on saving me from the moment he
-saw my face in the court. He is a Biscayan--yet we had met in other
-lands; once I had saved his life--from Eaton. He--that doubly damned
-traitor--that monster of sin--had taken him prisoner in a pink he
-owned, yet had not captured her without a hard fight, in which this
-man, Nuńez Picado, nearly slew him. Then, this was Eaton's revenge: He
-bound him and set him afloat in a dismantled ketch he had by him, that
-to which Picado was bound being a barrel of gunpowder. And in that
-barrel was one end of a slow match, the other end alight and trailing
-the length of the ketch's deck.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So slow a match that it would take hours ere it reached the powder,
-hours in which the doomed wretch would suffer ten thousand-fold the
-tortures of the damned. Yet one thing Eaton forgot--forgot that those
-hours of long drawn-out horror to his victim were also hours in which
-succour might come. And it was so. I passed that craft drifting slowly
-to and fro off Porto Rico. In the blaze of the noontide I saw a
-brighter, redder light than the sparkle of sun on counter and
-brass--when I stepped on board the ketch there was not a foot of the
-slow-match left--not an hour longer of life left to the man. Only, the
-bitterness of death was over for him then--he was a raving maniac, and
-so remained for months.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He has at last repaid you in full.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay! In full. He knew the secret way into the ramparts; all was
-concocted, all arranged for our escapes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For yours and hers?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For hers and mine. Had it not been that you had to be saved
-also--that the freedom which Juana had obtained from Morales for me
-must be transferred to you, since I needed it not, she would never
-have been allowed to go forth with him. I or Picado would have slain
-him in the prison and escaped with her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I begin to understand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Twas best, however, to let her go forth unknowing--at least it
-removed him away from what had to be done--made it certain that he
-could not impede your escape. The rest was easy. I persuaded the mute
-that 'twas you, not I, whom it was intended to save, that 'twas for
-you her letter was meant, that it was I who was doomed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Eaton? Eaton?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Eaton has paid the forfeit of his treachery,&quot; he said. &quot;It has
-rebounded on his own head. The <i>braséro</i> thirsted for its victim--the
-populace for its holiday. They have had it. Trust Nuńez Picado for
-that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He said no more, neither then nor later, and never yet have I learnt
-how that vilest of men was the substitute for those whom he had hoped
-and endeavoured to send to the flames. Yet, also, never have I doubted
-that it was done, since certain it is that from that time he has never
-again crossed my path.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The storm increases,&quot; Gramont said, as he strode to the window and
-peered out into the darksome night. &quot;Yet--yet--I must go on at
-daybreak. I--I have that which needs take me on.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stay here with us,&quot; I cried, &quot;stay here. Juana will be my wife at the
-first moment chance offers. Stay.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; he said. &quot;Nay. She and I must never meet again. That is the
-expiation of my life which I have set myself--I will go through with
-it. In that last kiss above, I took my farewell of her forever in this
-world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What will you do?&quot; I asked through my now fast-falling tears, tears
-that none needed to be ashamed of; tears that none, listening to his
-heart-broken words as they dropped slowly from his lips, could have
-forborne to shed. &quot;What is your life to be?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God only knows,&quot; he replied; &quot;yet one of penitence, of prayers for
-forgiveness so long as that life lasts. Thereby--thereby--I shall be
-fitter for the end. I am almost old now; it may not be far off.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Silence came upon us after that--a silence broken only by the howl of
-the wind outside the lonely house, by the thud of snow falling now and
-again from the roof and eaves--blown off by the fury of the tempest.
-But broken by scarcely aught else, unless 'twas a sigh that
-occasionally, and all unwittingly, as I thought, escaped from that
-poor sinner's overcharged breast. Yet, for the rest, nothing; no sound
-from that room above, where Juana lay sleeping; nothing but sometimes
-the expiring logs falling together with a gentle clash in the grate.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then suddenly, as I almost dozed on one side of those logs, he being
-on the other, I heard him speaking to me, his voice deep, sonorous and
-low--perhaps he feared it might reach her above!--yet clear and
-distinct.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Evil,&quot; he said, &quot;as my existence has been, misjudge me not. None
-started on life's path meaning better than I. God help me! none
-drifted into worse extremes. Will you hear my story--such as 'tis meet
-you should know--you who love my child?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I bowed my head; I whispered, &quot;Yes.&quot; Once, because I pitied him, I
-gently touched his hand with mine.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was a sailor,&quot; he went on, his dark eyes gleaming tenderly at that
-small offering of my sympathy, &quot;bred up to the sea, the only child of
-a poor Protestant woman. Later--when Louis the king first fell under
-the thrall of the wanton, De Maintenon, my mother died of starvation,
-ruined by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, ruined ere that
-revocation by the shadow it cast before it on all of our faith. Think
-you that what was doing in the Indies by the Spaniards made me love
-the followers of the Romish church more?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He paused a moment--again he went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In the Indies to which I had wandered, I met with men who had sworn
-to extirpate, if might be, every Spaniard, every one of those who in
-their time swore that there was to be no peace beyond the line. That
-was their oath--we helped them to keep it, made it our watchword, too.
-All of us, Morgan, Pointis, Avery, Lolonois, your other countryman,
-Stede Bonnet, a hundred others, all of different lands, yet all of one
-complexion--hatred against Spain. And there was no peace beyond the
-line. You are a soldier, may be one for years, yet you will never know
-blood run as blood ran then. You may rack cities, even Louis' own
-capital, you will never know what sharing booty means as we knew it.
-Ere I was thirty I possessed a hundred thousand gold pistoles, ere
-another year had passed I owned nothing but the sword by my side, the
-deck I trod.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet,&quot; I said, &quot;when you were lost--disappeared--you left your child a
-fortune--which Eaton stole.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I did more,&quot; he answered. &quot;I left her that--but--I left her another
-which Eaton could not steal. She has it now; it is, it must be safe.
-Do you know your wife brings you a great dowry?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I started--I had never thought of this!--yet, ere I could say aught,
-he went on again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I pass over much. I come to twenty years ago. Eaton was my
-lieutenant; we were about to besiege Maracaibo, a gallant company
-three hundred strong. Well, let me hurry--see, the daylight is coming.
-I must away--Maracaibo fell, our plunder was great. Also, we had many
-prisoners. Amongst them one, a girl, young and beautiful; God! she was
-an angel!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Juana's mother that was to be,&quot; I whispered, feeling sure.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hear me. She was my prize--there were others, but I heeded them not,
-had eyes only for her. Her ransom was fixed at five thousand pistoles,
-because she was the niece of the wealthiest man of all, to be paid ere
-we sailed three days later. And I prayed that they might never be
-forthcoming, that I might bear her away with me, teach her to love me
-as I loved her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And they were not paid?&quot; I asked breathlessly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We did not sail in three days' time; the money of the place had been
-sent away inland on our approach; also one-half our body were all mad
-with drink ashore. 'Twas more nigh three weeks ere we were ready to
-depart.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the lady?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Her uncle had died meanwhile of a fever--yet--yet--the ransom was
-forthcoming. She was affianced to a planter; he came on board my ship,
-and with him he brought the gold.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My oath bound me to take it--had I refused, my brethren had the
-right--since we had laws regulating all things amongst us--to remove
-me from my command. I had to see him count the gold out on the cabin
-table, to tell her she was free to go.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And she went?&quot; I asked again, almost breathless.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXX.</h4>
-
-<h5>GONE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She went,&quot; he continued, &quot;and I thought that she was gone from me
-forever, since, filibuster as I was, as I say, my oath to my
-companions bound me to set her free upon payment of the ransom. Yet,
-by heaven's grace, she was mine again ere long.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He paused, looking out of the snow-laden window through which there
-stole now a greyness which told of the coming of the wintry day;
-pointed toward it as though bidding me remember that his time with me
-was growing short; then went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was ashore for the last time before we sailed for Port Royal; those
-of us who were something better than brutish animals seeking for those
-who were wallowing in debauchery; finding them, too, either steeped in
-drink, or so overcome by their late depravity that they had to be
-carried on board the ships like logs. Then, as we passed down a street
-seeking our comrades, I saw her again--saw her lovely face at the
-grilled window of a house that looked as though it might be a convent;
-at a window no higher from the ground than my own head. And she saw me
-too, made a sign that I should stop, should send on my company out of
-earshot; which done, she said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Save me. For God's sake, save me!'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Save you, Seńorita,' I whispered, for I knew not who might be
-lurking near, might be, perhaps, within the dark room to which no ray
-of the blazing sun seemed able to penetrate; 'save you from what, from
-whom?'</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'From him who ransomed me--<i>Diôs!</i> that you had not taken the money.
-I hate him, was forced to be affianced to him, am a prisoner here in
-this convent until to-morrow, when I am to become his wife.'</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Yet, Seńorita,' I murmured--'how to do it? These walls seem strong,
-each window heavily grated, doubtless the house well guarded--and--and
-we sail at daybreak.'</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Yet an entrance may be made by the garden,' she whispered in reply;
-'the house is defended by negroes only--my room at the top of the
-stairs. Save me. Save me.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again Gramont paused--again he pointed at the day-spring
-outside--hurriedly he went on:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I saved her. Twenty of us--that vile Eaton was one!--passed through
-the garden at midnight--up those stairs--killing three blacks who
-opposed us&quot;--even as he spoke I remembered Eaton's ravings in <i>La
-Mouche Noire</i> as to the dead men glaring down into the passage; knew
-now of what his frenzied mind had been thinking on--&quot;bore her away.
-Enough! three months later, we were married in Jamaica!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He rose as though to go forth and seek his horse, determined to
-make his way on in spite of the snow that lay upon the ground in
-masses--because, as I have ever since thought, he had sworn to undergo
-his self-imposed expiation of never gazing more upon his child's
-face!--then he paused, and spoke once more:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She died,&quot; and now his voice was broken, trembled, &quot;in giving birth
-to her who is above; died when I had grown rich again--so rich that
-when I sailed for France, my pardon assured, my commission as
-Lieutenant du Roi to Louis in my pocket, I left her with Eaton, not
-even then believing how deep a villain he was; thinking, too, that I
-should soon return. Left with him, also, a fortune for her, What
-happened to her and that fortune you have learnt. Yet, something else
-you have to learn. Her mother's name had been Belmonte, and when Juana
-fled from Eaton, driven thence by his cruelty, she, knowing this,
-found means to communicate with an old comrade of mine, by then turned
-priest and settled at the other end of the island--at Montego. Now,
-see how things fall out; how, even to one belonging to me, God
-is good. 'Twas in '86 I sailed for France, my commission in my
-cabin--nailed in my pride to a bulkhead--when, alas! madman as I was,
-I encountered a great ship--a treasure ship, as I believed, sailing
-under Spanish colours. And--and--the devil was still strong in
-me--still strong the hatred of Spain--the greed and lust of plunder.
-God help me! God help and pardon me!&quot; and as he spoke he beat his
-breast and paced the dreary room, now all lit up by the daylight from
-without. Even as I write I see and remember him, as I see and remember
-so many other things that happened in those times.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We boarded her,&quot; he continued, a moment later; &quot;we took her treasure;
-she was full of it--yet even as we did so I knew that I was lost
-forever in this world, all chance of redemption gone--my hopes of
-better things passed away forever. For she was sailing under false
-colours; she was a French ship, one of Louis' own, and, seeing that we
-ourselves carried the Spanish flag, the better to escape the ships of
-war of Spain that were all about, had herself run them up. And we
-could not slay them and scuttle the ship--we had passed our word for
-their safety--moreover, an we would have done so 'twas doubtful if we
-should have succeeded. There were women on board, and, though the men
-fought but half-heartedly to guard the treasure that was their king's,
-they would have fought to the death for them. Therefore, we emptied
-the vessel of all that it had--we left them their lives--let them go
-free.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But why, why?&quot; I asked, still not comprehending how this last attack
-upon another ship--and that but one of many stretching over long
-years!--should be so fateful to him, &quot;why not still go on to France,
-commence a new life under better surroundings?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why?&quot; he repeated, &quot;why? Alas! you do not understand. I, a
-commissioned officer of the French king, had made war on his ships,
-taken his goods; also,&quot; and he drew a long breath now, &quot;also
-there were those on board who knew and recognised me--we had met
-before--knew I was Gramont. That was enough. There was no return to
-France for me; or, if once there, nothing but the block or the wheel.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God pity you,&quot; I gasped, &quot;to have thrown all chance away thus--thus!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He seemed not to heed my words of sympathy, wrung from me by my swift
-comprehension of all he had lost; instead, he stood there before me,
-almost like those who are turned to stone, making no movement, only
-speaking as one speaks who encounters a doom that has fallen on him,
-as one who tells how hope and he have parted forever on wide,
-diverging roads.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There were others besides myself,&quot; he continued, &quot;who had ruined all
-by their act of madness, others of my own land who had gained their
-pardon, and lost it now forever, flung away all hopes of another life,
-of happier days to come, for the dross that we apportioned between
-ourselves, though in our frenzy we almost cast it into the sea. As for
-my share, though 'twas another fortune, I would not touch a pistole,
-but sent it instead to the priest I have spoken of--sent it by a sure
-hand--and bade him keep it for my child, add it to that which Eaton
-held for her; told him, too, to guard it well, since neither he nor
-she would ever see me more!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And after--after?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;After, we disbanded--parted. I went my way, they theirs; earned my
-living hardly, yet honestly, in Hispaniola; should never have left the
-island had I not discovered that Eaton, who even then sometimes passed
-under the name of Carstairs--that was his <i>honest</i> name--and who had
-long since disappeared from my knowledge, was having a large amount of
-goods and merchandise shipped under that name in the fleet of
-galleons, about to sail as soon as possible. And then--then--knowing
-how he had treated the child I left in his care--the child of my dead
-and lost love--I swore to sail in those galleons, to find him, to
-avenge----&quot; He paused, exclaiming, &quot;Hark! What is that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Above--I heard it as soon as he--there was a footfall on the floor. We
-knew that Juana was moving, had arisen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Go to her,&quot; he said, and I thought that his voice was changed--was
-still more broken--&quot;Go; it may be she needs something. Go.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is this our last farewell? Surely we shall meet again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Go. And--and--tell her--her father--nay. Tell her nothing. Go.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">O'ermastered by his words, by, I think, too, the misery of the man who
-had been my companion through the dreary night, my heart wrung with
-sorrow for him who stood there so sad a figure, I went, obeying his
-behest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But ere I did so, and before I opened the door that gave on the stairs
-leading to her room, I took his hand, and whispered:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It <i>is</i> our last farewell! Yet--oh, pause and think--she is your
-child. Have you no word--no last word of love nor plea for pardon--to
-send?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For a moment his his quivered, his breast heaved and he turned toward
-the other, and outer, door, so that I thought he meant to go without
-another sign. But, some impulse stirring in his heart, he moved back
-again to where I stood; murmuring, I heard him say:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In all the world she has none other but you. Remember that. Farewell
-forever. And--in days to come--teach her not to hate--my memory.
-Farewell.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, his hand on the latch of the outer door, he pointed to the other
-and the stairs beyond.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">While I, stealing up them, knew that neither his child nor I would
-ever see him more, and, so knowing, prayed that God would at last
-bring ease and comfort to the erring man.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As I neared the door of the room in which she had slept she opened it
-and came forth upon the bare landing--pale, as I saw in the light of
-the now fully broken day, but with much of the fever gone; also with,
-upon her face, that smile which ever made summer in my heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are better,&quot; I said, folding her to me, &quot;better? Have slept well?
-Is it not so?&quot; Yet, even as I spoke, I led her back to the room whence
-she had come. She must not descend <i>yet!</i> &quot;You have not stirred all
-through the night, I know.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I dreamt,&quot; she said, &quot;that you came to me, bade me farewell forever.
-Yet that passed, and again I dreamed that we should never part more.
-Therefore, I was happy, even in my sleep.&quot; Then broke off to say:
-&quot;Hark! They are stirring in the house. Are the horses being prepared?
-I hear one shaking its bridle. Can any go forth to-day?&quot; and she moved
-toward the window.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, Juana,&quot; I said, leading her back again, although imperceptibly,
-to the middle of the room, &quot;do not go to the window. The cold is
-intense--stay here by my side.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not guessing my reason--since it was impossible she should understand
-what was happening below!--I led her back. Led her back so that she
-should not see one come forth from the stable whom she deemed dead and
-destroyed--so that she should not be blasted by the sight of her
-father passing away in actual life from her forever; then sat down by
-her side and led the conversation to our future--to how we should get
-away from here to England and to safety. Also, I told her not to
-bewail, as she did again and again, my failure to proceed further on
-my journey to Flanders and the army; demonstrated, to her that, at
-least, there had been no failure in the mission I had undertaken;
-that my secret service had been carried out--and well carried out,
-too--and, consequently, my return mattered not very much with regard
-to a week or month. The allies, I said, could fight and win their
-battles very well without my aid, as I doubted not they were doing by
-now, while--for the rest--had I not done my share both here and in
-Spain? Proved, too--speaking a little self-vauntingly, perhaps, by
-reason of my intense desire to soothe and cheer her and testify that
-she had been no barrier in my path to glory--that I, also, though far
-away from my comrades, had stood in the shadow of death, had been face
-to face with the grim monster equally with those who braved the
-bayonets, the muskets and the cannon of Louis' armies.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But all the time I spoke to her my apprehension was very great, my
-nerves strung to their bitterest endurance, my fear terrible that she
-would hear the man below going forth, that she might move to the
-window and see him--and that, thus seeing, be crushed by the sight.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For I knew that he was moving now--that he was passing away forever
-from this gloomy spot which held the one thing in all the world that
-was his, and linked him to the wife he had loved so dearly; knew that,
-solitary and alone, he was about to set forth into a dreary world
-which held no home for him nor creature to love him in his old age. I,
-too, heard the bridle jangling again; upon the rough boards of the
-stable beneath the windows of the <i>fonda</i> I heard the dead, dull thump
-of a horse's hoofs; I knew that the animal was moving--that he was
-setting out upon his journey of darkness and despair.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are sad, Mervan,&quot; she said, her cheek against mine, while her
-voice murmured in my ear. &quot;Your words are brave, yet all else belies
-them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is not for myself,&quot; I answered. &quot;Not for myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The starry eyes gazed into mine, the long, slim hand rested on my
-shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For whom?&quot; she whispered. &quot;For whom? For him? My father?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I bowed my head--from my lips no words seemed able to come--yet said
-at last:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For him. Your father.&quot; Then, for a moment, we sat there together,
-saying nothing. But soon she spake again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My thoughts of him are those of pity only, now,&quot; she murmured
-once more. &quot;Pity, deep as a woman's heart can feel. And--and--my
-love--remember, I never knew who my father was until that scene in the
-inn at Lugo--thought always his, our name was in truth Belmonte. The
-secret was well kept--by Eaton, for his own ends, doubtless; by my
-father's friend, the priest who had once been as he was, for his past
-friendship's sake. If I judged him harshly, a life of pity for his
-memory shall make atonement.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As she said these words, while I kissed and tried to comfort her, she
-rose from where we were sitting and went to the window, I not
-endeavouring to prevent her now, feeling sure that he was gone; for
-all had become very still; there was no longer any sound in the
-stable, nor upon the snow, which, as I had seen as the day broke, had
-frozen and lay hard as iron on the ground beneath it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet something there was, I knew, that fascinated her as she gazed out
-upon the open; something which--as she turned round her face to me--I
-saw had startled, terrified her. For, pale as she had been since we
-had met again here, and with all the rich colouring that I loved so
-much gone from her cheeks, she was even whiter, paler than I had ever
-known her--in her eyes, too, a stare of astonishment, terror.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mervan!&quot; she panted, catching her breath, her hand upon her heart,
-&quot;Mervan, look, oh, look!&quot; and she pointed through the window.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See,&quot; she gasped, &quot;see. The form of one whom I deemed dead--or is he
-in truth dead, and that his spectre vanishing into the dark wood
-beyond? See, the black horse, that which he bestrode that night--oh!
-Mervan--Mervan--Mervan--why has his spirit returned to earth? Will it
-haunt me forever--forever--punish me because of my shame of him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And while I saw the horseman's figure disappear now--and forever--into
-the darkness of the pine forest, she lay trembling and weeping in my
-arms. To calm which, and also bring ease to her troubled heart, I told
-her all.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXI.</h4>
-
-<h5>ALWAYS TOGETHER NOW.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The frost held beneath a piercing east wind which blew across the
-mountains that separated Portugal from Leon, so that now the snow was
-as hard as any road and there was no longer any reason to delay our
-setting forth. And more especially so was this the case because my
-beloved appeared to have entirely recovered from the fever into which
-she had been thrown by the events of the past weeks.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am ready, Mervan,&quot; she said to me the next day, &quot;ready to depart,
-to leave forever behind these lands--which I hope never to see
-again--to dwell always in your own country and near you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Wherefore I considered in my mind what was best now to be done.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That we were safe here in Portugal we knew very well--only it was not
-in Portugal that we desired to remain, but rather to escape from; to
-cross the seas as soon as might be--to reach England or Holland. Yet
-how to do that we had now to consider.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I had said we were safe here, and of this safety we had sure proof not
-many hours after her unhappy father had departed on his unknown
-journey; a journey that led I knew not where, no more than I knew what
-would be the end of it. And this proof was that, in the afternoon of
-the same day, the landlord of the inn came running in to us as fast as
-he could scamper across the already frozen snow; his face twitching
-with excitement, his voice shaking, too, from the same cause.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Holy Virgin!&quot; he exclaimed, while he gesticulated like a madman, his
-wife doing the same thing by his side, &quot;who and what have I sheltered
-here in my house. Pirates and filibusters, gaol breakers and
-murderers, women whose vows are made and broken day by day. 'Tis mercy
-we are not all stabbed to the death in our beds,&quot; and again he
-grimaced and shook and spluttered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are as like,&quot; I said sternly, with a tap to my sword hilt, &quot;to be
-stabbed to the death now, and at once, if you explain not this
-intrusion and your words, fellow.&quot; For he had roused my ire by
-bursting in on Juana and me in the manner he had done, and by
-frightening her, as I knew by the way she clung to me. &quot;Answer at
-once, what mean you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There are at the frontier,&quot; he said, speaking now more calmly, also
-more respectfully as he noted my attitude, while his wife ceased her
-clamour too, &quot;some half dozen Spaniards from Lugo, all demanding where
-you are--and--and the wo--the lady; also asking for one they call
-their Alcáide, as well as another, who, they say, is a hundred-fold
-assassin. Likewise they vow they will have you back to Lugo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Will they! Well, we will see for that! Meanwhile, what say the
-frontiermen on this side, here in Portugal?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They dispute. They refuse. They say 'tis whispered o'er all our land
-that the king has joined with the English brigands----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fellow! remember.&quot; And again I threatened him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;With the English nation against Spain and France. It may be so or
-not; I do not know. Yet I think you will be spared to--to--slay----&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Again he halted in his speech, reading danger in my glance, while I,
-turning to Juana, bade her keep calm and await my return from the
-border, to which I meant to proceed to see what was a-happening.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At first she would not hear of my doing this; she threw herself upon
-my neck, she besought me by our newborn love, by all our hopes of
-happiness in days to come, not to go near those men, Reminded me, too,
-that even now we were free to escape, to seize upon the horses, push
-on further into Portugal and to safety. Also she pleaded with me to
-remember that if aught happened to me, if I was taken again and
-carried back to Spain, all hope would indeed be gone, no more escape
-possible. Wept, also, most piteously, and besought me to recollect
-that if aught such as this befell she would indeed be alone in the
-world, and must die.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet I was firm; forced myself to be so. In my turn, bade her remember
-that I was a soldier, that soldiers could not skulk and run away when
-there was naught to fear.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For,&quot; I said, whispering also many other words of love and comfort in
-her ear, &quot;it may be true that the king has joined with us. For months
-it has been looked for, expected. And if 'tis not even so, these
-people hate Spain and all in it with a deep hatred. They cannot harm
-us, certainly no half dozen can. 'Twould take more than that. Let me
-go, sweetheart.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And gently I disengaged her arms from my neck and went away amidst her
-prayers and supplications for my safety; amidst also the mutterings of
-the landlord to the effect that the <i>Inglés</i> seemed to fear neither
-devil nor man.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas not many moments to the border 'twixt the two countries, and I
-soon was there--seeing, however, as I hurried toward it, to the
-priming of my pistols, and that my sword was loose enough in its
-scabbard for easy drawing forth--and there I perceived that a harangue
-was going on between the Spanish and Portuguese frontiermen, while, on
-the side of the former, were also the half-dozen Spaniards, of whom
-the inn keeper had spoken. And amongst them I recognised two or three
-of those who had captured us in the inn garden at Lugo.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ha!&quot; one of them called out as I approached. &quot;Ha! See, there is one,
-the second of the brigands, though not the worst. <i>Assassinator!</i>&quot; he
-shrieked at me, &quot;we must have you back at Lugo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Best take me, then,&quot; I replied, as I drew close up, &quot;yet 'twill cost
-you dear,&quot; and as I spoke I whipped my sword from out its scabbard.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was to be neither fight nor attempt to capture me, however; in
-truth, as you have now to see, my weapon had done its last work in
-either Spain or Portugal, since the men on this side meant not that
-the Spaniards should have their way.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Back, I tell you,&quot; shouted the Portuguese chief, &quot;or advance at your
-peril. We are at war; 'tis known over all our land the <i>Inglés</i> are
-our allies. You have come on a bootless errand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now this, as I learnt later, was not the case in absolute fact, since
-Portugal joined not with us till the next spring had come, yet it
-served very well for my purpose; for these Spaniards did doubtless
-think that they would have got me--and, I suppose, Juana,
-too--bloodlessly, and have been able to hale us back to Lugo and its
-accursed <i>braséro</i>. But now they found out their mistake; they would
-have to fight to get me, and as, I think, they feared my sword as much
-as the four or five others of my new-found Portuguese friends, they
-very wisely desisted from any attempt. And so, after many angry words
-exchanged on both sides, in which I took no part, I went back to the
-inn, feeling sure that, unless I ever ventured into Spain again, I was
-free of its clutches.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span style="letter-spacing: 9px">
-* * * * * * * * *</span></p>
-
-<p class="normal">Once more, a few hours later, my love and I were on the road as
-travelling companions, only now we were lovers instead of friends, and
-the companionship was, by God's mercy, to be for the length of our
-lives. And sweet it was to me, beyond all doubt, to have her by my
-side, to hear her soft voice in my ears, and to listen to the words of
-love that fell from her lips--sweet, too, to me to make reply to them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For one thing also I was devoutly grateful, namely, that I had not
-hesitated to tell her that her father still lived; that he had yet, by
-heaven's grace, many years before him in which to expiate his past;
-that he had escaped the awful end to which he had been doomed, and
-which, during some few hours, she imagined he had suffered--devoutly
-grateful that I had done this, because, now, the sorrow which she felt
-for the erring man was chastened by the knowledge that it was not too
-late for him to repent and obtain pardon, and that his death, whatever
-it might be, could scarce be one of such horror as that from which he
-had escaped.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After some consideration I had decided that 'twould be best we should
-make our way to Oporto, where I thought 'twas very like we might find
-some ship for either England or Holland--perhaps, also, since the
-trade of that town with England is of such extreme importance, some
-vessel of war acting as convoy for the merchants. Moreover, the
-distance was not great in so small a land as this, and by the chart I
-carried seemed not to be more than thirty or forty leagues, though to
-compass them we should have to pass over mountains more than once. Yet
-the horses were fresh--I rode now my own on which Gramont had come and
-had then exchanged for the black one on which I had escaped, it having
-been prepared for me ere I took his place--the snow was hard as iron;
-it was not much to do. And, much or little, it had to be done.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And so we progressed, passing through Mirandella and Murca, striking
-at last a broad high road that ran straight for Oporto--scaling
-mountains sometimes, plunging sometimes into deep valleys and crossing
-streams over shaking wooden bridges that by their appearance seemed
-scarce strong enough to bear a child, yet over which we got in safety.
-And, though neither she nor I spoke our thoughts, I think, I know,
-that the same idea was ever present to her mind as to mine, the idea
-that we might ere long come upon some sign of her father. For, now and
-again, as she peered down upon the white track we followed, losing
-more than once the road, yet finding it again ere long, she would rein
-in the jennet and look at the tracks frozen in the snow, then shake
-her head mournfully as we went on once more.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But of Gramont we saw no sign--nor ever saw him again in this world.</p>
-
-<p class="normal"></p>
-
-<p class="normal">Going on and on, however, we drew near as I judged, to the coast,
-still climbing the mountains and still passing at other times through
-the valleys, over all of which there lay the vast white pall burying
-everything beneath it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">We heard also the great river that is called the Douro, rolling and
-humming and swirling beneath the roof of frozen snow which, in some
-places, stretched across it from bank to bank. In some places, too,
-where the road we traversed approached nearer to the stream, we saw it
-cleaving its way through banks so narrowed by their coating of ice
-that it o'erleapt and foamed above the sides, while with a great
-swish, such as a huge tide makes upon a shingly beach, its waters
-spread out with a hissing splash from their eddies and swept over the
-borders on either side. Yet, because the way this river rushed was
-likewise our way to peace and happiness--the road toward the great sea
-we hoped so soon to traverse--we regarded it with interest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See,&quot; I said to Juana, as now we rode close to it, so that at this
-time our horses' feet were laved by its overflow, &quot;see how it bears
-down with it great trees from far inland, from where we have come;
-also other things, the wooden roof of some peasant's hut, some
-household goods too. I fear it has swept over the country, has burst
-in places from its narrow frost-bound sides.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">'Twas true--such must have happened--for even as I spoke, there went
-by the body of a horse--the creature's sides all torn and lacerated,
-doubtless by some narrow passage in which the spears of ice would be
-as sharp as swords' points; then, next--oh! piteous sight!--a little
-dead babe rolled over and over as the waves bore it along in their
-swift flight.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look, look,&quot; she murmured, pointing forward to where the river
-broadened, but out into the breadth of which there projected a spur,
-or tongue of land; &quot;look! that catches much of what comes down--see!
-the dead horse's progress is stopped upon it--and Mervan, the little
-babe is also rolled on to that slip of land while there are many other
-things besides; more bodies of both men and animals.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There were, in solemn truth. As we rode nearer to that jutting
-promontory, we saw that much of what the Douro had brought down was
-stopped by it; upon the frozen tongue of land protruding were mixed in
-confusion many things. The dead horse and another which had preceded
-it; some poor sheep, a dog, the little babe which had just passed
-before our eyes, and two or three dead men; some on their backs, their
-arms extended on that frozen refuge--one on his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mostly they were peasants; their garb told that, also their rough,
-coarse hands, which showed black against the leper whiteness of the
-ice and snow beneath them. But he who lay upon his face was none such,
-his scarlet coat, guarded with galloon, had never graced a peasant's
-back, no more than any peasant had worn that sword (with now both
-blade and scabbard broken) that was by his side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And halting upon the little ridge which made the summit of that
-promontory and gazing upon that man, I knew as well as if I could see
-his down-turned face, whose body it was stretched out there upon its
-icy bier.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Also I saw that she knew, too. Neither scarlet coat nor battered
-weapon was strange to her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will descend,&quot; I said, speaking in a low voice, such as those
-assume who stand in presence of the dead. &quot;I will descend and make
-sure,&quot; whereupon she bowed her head in reply, making no demur. At that
-moment she, perhaps, thought it best to make sure that he who had
-sought her soul's degradation would never traffic with another woman's
-honour.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But as I went down on foot now to that tongue of land on which the
-drowned reposed, I had another reason besides this of making sure that
-the body was that of her tempter, the Alcáide. I desired to discover
-if 'twas by the river alone that he had come to his death (borne down
-and into it by some streamlet nearer the Spanish border), and not by
-the avenging weapon of him who said that I should never have spared
-him, have never let him quit my side with life. For they might have
-met, I knew; the one who went first might have been belated on his
-road--snowbound; the second might have overtaken him, his vengeance
-have been swift and sure.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Stepping across the bodies of the drowned animals, avoiding those of
-the peasants, and putting gently aside that of the little babe, I
-reached him, recognising as I did so the coal black hair flecked and
-streaked with grey, the rings upon the hands stretched out, backs
-upward. Then I turned him over, seeing that the face was torn and cut
-by the jagged ice through which he had been hurried, also bruised and
-discoloured. But in all the body no sign of rapier wound, nor pistol
-shot, nor of avenging finger marks upon the throat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So I went back to her and took my reins from her hands and once more
-we set out upon our way.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But the dark, lustrous eyes as they gazed into mine asked silent and
-unworded questions--so that I guessed my thoughts had been in her
-mind, too!--and when I answered with as equal a silence I knew that I
-had brought comfort to her heart.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE END.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The early part of September, 1704, had been stormy and wet and very
-dismal, so that all in London feared that the great spectacle, which
-had been arranged with much pains and forethought for the seventh of
-that month, must be impaired if not totally ruined by the inclemency
-of the weather. And many there were who, during the night that passed
-away and when the dawn came, rose from their beds to peer out and see
-what the day promised.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet by great good fortune none were doomed to disappointment. For from
-away over the river, down by where the great ships were all a-lying
-dressed with flags, the sun came up in great magnificence and
-splendour; the clouds turned from purple to a fair pure daffodil; a
-sweeter autumn morning none had ever seen nor could hope to see.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now from very early in the morning the crowd came in from far and
-wide, from north and south and east and west, from the villages along
-the river as far away as sylvan Richmond on one side, or Hampstead on
-another; while the gentry drove in from their country seats at Clapham
-or Kensington and on the road that leads to Fulham. Also those
-regiments at Hounslow, and the foot guards at Kensington, as well as
-the city militia from the east side, were all making their way into
-the town, with drums a-beating and flags streaming out to the fresh
-morning air and trumpets braying, while in the city itself my Lord
-Mayor was getting ready to proceed to Temple Bar, there to receive the
-queen and court.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For this day, the seventh of September, had been fixed for the
-thanksgiving for the victory of Blenheim which the Duke of Marlborough
-had recently won. The pity only being that, of those who were to take
-part in the great ceremony, my Lord Duke could not be there, he being
-still engaged on the Continent.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Nevertheless, from St. James' there set out so great a company for St.
-Paul's that 'tis never likely any one then alive could expect to
-witness a more noble and imposing sight. For there were all the great
-officers of state, with, amidst them, the queen in a sumptuous coach
-drawn by eight horses, Her Majesty being ablaze with jewels. Alone she
-went in that coach excepting one companion, a lady dressed as quietly
-and simply as could be any lady in the land, there being neither at
-neck or bosom or throat, or in her hair, any single trinket to be
-seen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet, I think, she was that day the proudest woman in all England, not
-even excepting great Anna, since she was the wife of the conqueror who
-had trampled Louis and his armies under foot; was Sarah, Duchess of
-Marlborough. Could any female heart have desired to be more!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In front of, as well as behind, and on either side of that chariot of
-state, there rode the Queen's Guards; yet ahead of those who rode
-behind--he being nearest to the back of the carriage--was one who
-yielded to none in thankfulness and gratitude for all which Providence
-had seen fit to do for him. An officer this, one handed, his left
-arm bound up--it having been nearly lopped off at Blenheim by one of
-the Elector of Bavaria's huge dragoons, whom that officer slew a
-moment later with his right hand--whose scarf, sword knot,
-richly laced scarlet coat and gold cockade proclaimed him a colonel
-of horse--myself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From where we entered the Strand--by the cross set up here--we saw
-that all the shops were boarded up and scaffolded, partly to resist
-the crowd and partly to furnish benches on which sight-seers might
-sit. On those benches, also in the shop windows, on the bulks and at
-the windows of the tradesmen's parlours above, was a noble and
-splendid company, the ladies of which had all adorned themselves with
-their choicest dresses and ribbons and laces, the more to do honour to
-those other two ladies in the great coach. Then, behind, came the
-lords of Parliament and the gentlemen of the Commons, also the
-Bishops in their wigs and lawn--each and all in coaches drawn by
-six horses--as well as many others of the nobility; while from the
-churches along the route, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, St. Mary's in
-the Strand and St. Clement's Danes, the bells clashed and clanged,
-and, inside, the organs blew and anthems pealed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At Temple Bar there was a great halt, since the gates were shut, yet
-opened as the queen came to them, whereon my Lord Mayor, surrounded by
-the aldermen and sheriffs, in their red robes and on horses richly
-caparisoned, received Her Majesty, the former handing to her the sword
-of the city, which she at once returned; after which we progressed
-once more toward St. Paul's, where, later, the dean preached a moving
-sermon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now my eyes were fixed and searching for a face--two faces--at a
-window beyond the Church of St. Dunstan's in Fleet street--which was
-all hung with banners and adornments stretched across from side to
-side--and presently I saw that which I sought for--a lady on a balcony
-holding up a little wee child in her arms, a lady dark and beautiful
-and dressed all in her best, her robe a rich brocade, with, at her
-breast, a knot of ribbons, the colours of the Fourth Horse--the woman
-who has ever been in my eyes the fairest, most lovely of her sex, my
-loved and honoured wife. And she stood there seeking for me, leaning
-over the balcony to wave and kiss her hand, took, also, our babe's
-little one in her arms and caused it to wave, too.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Riding by, I looked up and saw them, and blessed God--blessed God and
-praised His name, because He had seen fit to bring us safe through all
-the dangers we had encountered together, because He had seen fit to
-give to me for wife the sweetest woman the world held, and to bring us
-safe into haven at last.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For that, as well as all else, I blessed and praised His name, even as
-from roofs of houses and taverns the salvos roared forth, the bells
-pealed from the steeples, and we progressed through the city;
-companies ranged 'neath their banners, and, between the lines kept by
-the militia, the queen bowing from her side of the coach, the great,
-stately duchess from hers, the people shouting all the time, and
-crying but two names, &quot;Anne&quot; and &quot;Marlborough,&quot; and women holding up
-their children, so that, in the days to come, when those children were
-old, they might say they had gazed on the wife of the greatest soldier
-in the world. And thus, at last, we came to St. Paul's and gave
-thanksgiving.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was when night had fallen after Blenheim that my Lord Duke sent for
-me to his room in the inn, where he and the Marshal Tallard--who had
-led the French, and been defeated that day, and was now an honoured
-and well-cared-for prisoner of his Grace--were quartered, and spoke to
-me as follows:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Colonel Crespin--for such you will be when the next gazette is
-published--if it were not that others have a prior claim, it should be
-you to whom I would confide my message to the queen and lords. For,&quot;
-and he smiled sweetly, as usual, though, to-night, a little wearily,
-&quot;I have a recollection of your value as a bearer of despatches; yet,
-all the same, you shall go to England. You have a wife and child
-there, I know.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And again he smiled as I bowed before him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For which you have to thank me. By St. George, I never thought when I
-sent you on that journey you were going sweetheart hunting, too.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whereby you will perceive that his Grace knew very well all that had
-befallen me two years before, when I set out for Spain to find, if
-might be, the English fleet. It would be strange, indeed, if he had
-not known it, for my story had been told all over the forces from the
-moment I returned and joined my regiment; nay, more than once, I had
-told it to Marlborough himself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall not be far behind you,&quot; he continued, &quot;the New Year should
-see me home, too. Yet I have messages for the queen and my own wife.
-You shall bear them. It will give you an opportunity of seeing your
-own wife. She is, I hear, vastly beautiful.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In my eyes, my lord Duke, the most beautiful woman in the world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is as it should be. So,&quot; he continued simply, &quot;I think of mine.
-But, also, you must see the queen. She has heard of your adventures,
-wishes she had seen you when you were on leave in England. Tell her
-all--tell her as bravely in words as you can be brave in action--and
-you will not stop at the command of a regiment of horse. See also
-my wife; her influence is extreme--our enemies say 'tis a bad
-influence--yet she will help you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I did see the queen on my arrival in England, also the great
-duchess, Sarah, on the night before we went to St. Paul's; after which
-I wondered no more how every one loved the former, spoke of her,
-indeed, as the &quot;Good&quot; Queen--a title, I think, as dear and precious as
-that of &quot;Great,&quot; which Elizabeth had worn. She was very ruddy, I
-noticed when I stood before her, her beautiful red-brown hair bound
-most matronly above her brow, while her arms--which were bare, to
-show, as I have heard, their extreme beauty--were most marvellous to
-behold, as well as her hands. Yet, queen as she was, and a well
-favoured one, too, it was more on the other lady who stood behind her
-that my eyes rested; for she was beautiful beyond all I had imagined,
-so that I wondered not that report said the duke loved her as fondly
-as when they were boy and girl together, she only a maid of honour,
-and he an ensign. Yet, also, I thought that beauty marred by an
-imperious haughtiness which made her seem the queen and the real queen
-seem her subject.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So, Colonel Crespin,&quot; Her Majesty said to me, &quot;I set eyes on you at
-last--you of whom I have heard so much. Well, I am vastly proud to
-know so brave a gentleman. Later, I must also know your wife--whom I
-hear you wooed and won in a strange fashion.&quot; Then changing the
-subject swiftly, while her kindly eyes rested on me, she said: &quot;Your
-father must be very proud of you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not knowing what reply to make to such a compliment, I could but bow
-again, whereon she continued:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your arm is bound up, I see--I hear you got the wound at Blenheim.
-'Tis very well. In after years it will be as great a distinction to
-have had that wound as any honours or titles that may come to you. It
-does not prevent your riding?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I murmured that it inconvenienced me but very little, whereon Her
-Majesty said:</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is also well. To-morrow I desire you follow my coach to St.
-Paul's. I love my people to see those who have served me bravely,&quot;
-whereon, with a gracious inclination of her head, accompanied by a
-sweet smile upon her honest, kindly face, she turned and left the
-apartment, the duchess bowing too, though somewhat more haughtily than
-the queen had done. Yet she whispered a word in my ear as she passed
-out; a word appropriate enough to one as proud as she.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have served <i>him</i> well,&quot; she said. &quot;Those who do that are my
-friends forever.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now the rejoicings for our victory at Blenheim were over--the
-siege and taking of Gibraltar three weeks before, by my other friend,
-Sir George Rooke, being not forgotten--the crowds had dispersed, the
-great banquet to be given by the city was near at hand and the
-illuminations of London were beginning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yet I had no desire to be feasting in the midst of that great
-company--instead, I was seated in the room from the balcony of which I
-had seen my wife that morning; her head upon my shoulder, her lips
-murmuring words of love inexpressible in my ear; words in which,
-amongst the rest, I caught those that told me how proud she was to
-have won me from all other women, how proud and happy in knowing that
-we were each other's forever in this world.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span style="letter-spacing: 9px">
-* * * * * * * * *</span></p>
-
-<p class="normal">What need to set down more--what more have I to say?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Only this. That never would she hear of redeeming any of that second
-fortune which her unhappy father had left in the custody of the priest
-in the Indies who had once been as he himself was; and consequently,
-that from the time we became man and wife no further intercourse was
-ever held between us and those far-off islands from which she came.
-Nor was that fortune wanted--God has ever been good to us; I have
-prospered exceedingly in my soldier's calling; all is very well.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Of him, Gramont, we have never heard more. Yet that, somewhere, he is,
-if still alive, expiating his past I have never doubted. The truth was
-in the man's eyes as he spoke to me on that morning when he went forth
-broken-hearted from the house which held his child; the truth, and a
-firm determination to atone by suffering and hardship for all that he
-had done. And what stronger or more stern resolve could any sinner
-have taken than that of his? The determination to tear himself away
-forever from the companionship of his newly found daughter, and to
-remove thereby from her forever the shame of his presence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come, Mervan,&quot; she said to me, as now the autumn evening turned to
-night, and from every house in Fleet street the illuminations began to
-glisten. &quot;Come, you must prepare for the city banquet.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; I said, &quot;nay. I need no banquets, would prefer to stay here by
-your side.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And so I would you should do. Yet you must go. I will not have you
-absent from so great a thing. You! my hero--my king. And while you are
-gone I will watch over our child, or solace myself with this.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And as she spoke she went over to where the spinet was, and touched a
-smaller instrument that lay upon it--the little viol d'amore from
-which we have never parted, and never will.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br><h4>THE END.</h4>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h5>PRINTED BY STROMBERG, ALLEN &amp; CO.<br>
-FOR<br>
-HERBERT S. STONE &amp; COMPANY<br>
-PUBLISHERS<br>
-CHICAGO<br>
-1897</h5>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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