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Title: 'Gainst the might of Spain
A story of the days of the great Armada
Author: Percy F. Westerman
Illustrator: Savile Lumley
Release date: July 1, 2026 [eBook #78984]
Language: English
Original publication: London: The Pilgrim Press, 1914
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78984
Credits: Produced by R.G.P.M. van Giesen. Thank you Ru!
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'GAINST THE MIGHT OF SPAIN ***
{Illustration: cover & spine}
'GAINST THE MIGHT OF SPAIN
{Illustration: THE ESCAPE.
_Frontispiece._] [_Page 154._}
'GAINST THE MIGHT
OF SPAIN
A STORY OF THE DAYS OF THE GREAT ARMADA
BY
PERCY F. WESTERMAN
AUTHOR OF "UNDER KING HENRY'S BANNERS"
"THE WINNING OF THE GOLDEN SPURS"
ETC. ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY SAVILE LUMLEY_
LONDON
THE PILGRIM PRESS
16 PILGRIM STREET, E.C.
CONTENTS
--.--
CHAP. PAGE
I. THE PILOT WHO DID NOT RETURN . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
II. THE _DAMSEL OF LYME_ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .11
III. CAPTAIN HANNIBAL CLEAT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
IV. JACK STAYNTON . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
V. CAPTAIN CLEAT IN HIS TRUE COLOURS . . . . . . . . . 44
VI. A PIRATE IN SPITE OF MYSELF . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
VII. CATCHING A TARTAR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
VIII. CAPTURED! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
IX. DON IAGO D'ALVAREZ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
X. ABOARD THE _SAN JOSEF_ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
XI. THE INQUISITION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
XII. IN THE TORTURE-CHAMBER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139
XIII. THE ESCAPE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
XIV. A TIMELY RESCUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
XV. OFF TO THE SPANISH MAIN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171
XVI. THE MOUNTAIN PASS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
XVII. BRINGING BACK THE SILVER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
XVIII. AT BAY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
XIX. THE TAKING OF THE GALLEON . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217
XX. BRINGING IN THE PRIZE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
XXI. THE GREAT ARMADA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
XXII. ENGLISH DOGS AND SPANISH BULLS . . . . . . . . . . . 266
XXIII. THE FIRESHIPS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 274
XXIV. THE LAST OF THE _DAMSEL OF LYME_ . . . . . . . . . . 285
XXV. IN THE QUEEN'S PRESENCE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
--.--
THE ESCAPE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._Coloured Frontispiece_
"THE TWENTY-NINTH DAY OF JUNE!" HE EXCLAIMED IMPATIENTLY
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Facing p._ 48
MY JAILERS HALTED BEFORE A SMALL OAKEN DOOR . . . . . . . 122
FOUR MASKED AND HOODED FAMILIARS ENTERED . . . . . . . . . 128
THUS WE SPENT A HORRIBLE NIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176
"HAVE THE SPANIARDS LANDED?" I ASKED . . . . . . . . . . . 240
WE HAD PLAYED OUR PART . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
'GAINST THE MIGHT
OF SPAIN
--.--
CHAPTER I.
THE PILOT WHO DID NOT RETURN.
I WAS born on the 6th day of July in the year of grace 1568, in the
parish of Crofton, in the county of Southampton.
My father, Richard Roy, was one of the Queen's pilots, and no man
knew the tides, currents, and hidden dangers of the Channel 'twixt
Scilly and the Forelands better than he.
Fourteen years before I was born, he being then but twenty-five, my
father brought into Southampton the ship that bore the heir to the
throne of Spain--the same Philip whom all England abhorred till the
time of his death. 'Twas on the occasion when this prince came to wed
our Queen Mary. Even then the haughty Spaniard was unpopular, and my
father roundly detested the task which had been entrusted to him.
Yet, since 'twas his duty, he did it right well, bringing the
prince's ship safely into Southampton, despite a thick sea-fog.
At length, wearying of staying in home waters, my father engaged in
several ventures on the Spanish Main. Here he met with varying
fortunes, having been twice cast ashore on the coast of Yucatan. On
the second occasion he formed an acquaintanceship with a Spanish
grandee, Don Iago d'Alvarez. Friendship I will not term it, as events
proved; yet since necessity knows no law, 'twas in my sire's interest
to work with this Spaniard.
Together, with the assistance of the Indians, they found and worked a
rich mine in the mountains that, like a backbone, traverse the
Spanish colony of Mexico--or New Spain, as they would call it.
With many mules laden with silver the adventurers journeyed towards
the coast, and losing heavily both in men, beasts of burden, and
precious metal, they succeeded in coming within sight of the shore
somewhere in the neighbourhood of the city of Vera Cruz.
That night Don Iago made excuse to go into the city, and in his
absence my father learned from one of the Indians that a rupture had
occurred 'twixt England and Spain. This might or might not have been
true, but the rest of the Indian's tale was of far greater import as
far as my sire was concerned. In short, Don Iago had gone to obtain
the aid of one, Don José da Silva. My father was to be treacherously
slain, and his share of the hard-gotten booty was to be divided
'twixt the two rascally Spaniards.
Black rage entered into my father's heart. Vowing that neither of the
villains should set eyes on the treasure, he dismissed the Indians,
and having taken possession of the map of the mine, without which it
was well-nigh impossible to find the spot again, he drove the baggage
mules with their precious burdens over the edge of a deep ravine,
through which the Rio del Foy gains the sea. Thus having thwarted his
treacherous companion, my sire fled southwards, casting about him to
find a means whereby he could leave the inhospitable shore of Mexico.
This he succeeded in doing, and after divers adventures, perils, and
hardships, again set foot in his native land in the year 1566.
The same year he married, and settled down once more to his calling
as a pilot, though the restless spirit of adventure sorely tempted
him again to seek for the vast treasures of the silver mine of San
Luis. Yet, held by home ties, he remained at Titchfield Haven, making
a modest living by piloting vessels within the limit of a line drawn
'twixt Lepe and Alverstoke Point.
In my younger days I regarded my parent as a giant, though I have
since outstripped him in height. He could, I remember, by standing on
tiptoe touch the crown of the arch of Crofton Church door with his
head, and 'tis seven feet less a bare four inches. Moreover, he was
broad in proportion, with massive chest and limbs, and muscles corded
like the trunk of an oak. On one occasion I remember seeing some
deep, curiously-shaped scars upon his back, whereat he made such ado
to conceal them that I forbore to ask him concerning them. That night
I asked my mother, but she firmly and gently bade me wait till I was
older ere I learnt the cause of those healed wounds.
One night, when I was twelve years of age, it fell, as frequently
happens, a flat calm. My father had returned, saying that, as no ship
was in sight and none likely to arrive this tide, he would retire to
rest.
I well remember that evening. It was hot and oppressive. The sun had
sunk behind a high bank of deep copper-coloured clouds, while the
lead-tinted sea rolled sullenly without any breeze to cause the
commotion. The sea-gulls, with plaintive cries, flew landwards, as if
the unnatural calm disturbed them, while away to the south-east I
noticed the distant flashes of summer lightning.
It was so hot and uncomfortable that I could not sleep, but lay in my
bed listening to the dull roar of the ground-swell upon the sand
flats that encumbered the mouth of our haven, for as such we
invariably spoke of the entrance to the tidal Titchfield River.
Shortly after midnight--for I remember hearing the great clock of
Place House chime the hour of twelve--there came a loud summons at
our door, and a voice exclaimed:
"Does Richard Roy, the pilot, dwell here?"
"Ay," assented my father. "What's amiss? Marry! I know most men
hereabouts, but I cannot recognise the sound of your voice."
"That can abide, pilot. But the pinnace _Speedie_, of Brixham, would
fain enter the haven."
"I'll be with you, gossip; but i' faith you must have caught a
favouring breeze, for at sunset there was naught in sight and no wind
withal."
A few minutes later my father, having bidden my mother farewell, with
the assurance that he would be home ere morning, unbarred the door.
I heard the footsteps of my sire and his companion crunching on the
shingle, then the sound of oars being thrown into the boat, and the
creaking of the thole-pins as the little craft put off to the
pinnace.
Shortly afterwards I must have fallen asleep.
I awoke with a start, to find the red glare of the rising sun shining
on my face. The sky was heavy with swiftly-moving masses of ragged
clouds, while seawards the white-crested waves were lashing
themselves furiously on the flat shore.
It was now low tide. The haven was dry, but no vessel lay on its
muddy bed. Looking landwards up the level valley of the Meon River, I
could see as far as the towers of Place House and the little hamlet
of Titchfield. Lying alongside the quay abreast of my Lord
Wriothesley's mansion were two vessels, but since I knew them well by
sight, 'twas certain that neither was the Brixham pinnace.
Seaward no ship was to be seen, either at anchor within the shelter
of Calshot Castle or under way towards the distant Wight.
The _Speedie_, if such she were, had vanished as mysteriously and as
unseen as she had arrived off the haven overnight.
So fierce was the storm that I made much ado to keep the casement
from being blown to by the force of the wind, while the loose, dry
sand above high-water mark was being blown landwards in great eddying
clouds. Ashore the full-leaved trees were bending greatly to the
wind, some of them having already been uprooted by the fierce blast;
the like I had never before seen.
Going downstairs, I found my mother sitting at the window, pale and
weary with watching, for 'twas ever thus whenever my father was at
his work in a storm.
"Oh, Ralph, what has befallen your father?" she exclaimed. "He went
off to some ship yesternight, and has not returned."
"Naught, I trust," I replied bravely, for I had unbounded confidence
in my sire's resolution and seamanship. "Perchance the tide fell
overmuch before the _Speedie_ could enter the haven, and he has taken
her to Southampton."
"You talk like a full-grown man, Ralph," she exclaimed, comforted, no
doubt, by my reply. Then her curiosity got the better of her
distress. "How came you to know that the ship was the _Speedie_?" she
asked.
"I heard the man call my father soon after midnight."
"Tell me, Ralph," she continued anxiously, "did he talk like--like an
Englishman?"
"Ay, though not like the people of these parts. He said he was of
Brixham; and where might Brixham be, mother?"
"I thank Heaven he was a Devon man," said my mother, ignoring my
question, and then, as if speaking to herself, "Oh, Dick, why did you
put off to that ship?"
Slowly the day passed. The gale abated almost as suddenly as it had
sprung up, and once more the fishing boats that had lain snugly in
the sheltered harbours and creeks of the Isle of Wight began to run
for home.
To our anxious inquiries the fishermen could give no news. No strange
craft named the _Speedie_ had been met with.
Late that afternoon I trudged into Southampton, but though my father
was well known in the port, he had not been seen there, neither had
any ship put in that bore the name of the Brixham pinnace.
An anxious night succeeded a trying day, but still no news. Two small
traders had been cast ashore, one at Stone Point, the other off
Warsash, and in both cases their crews contrived to reach land
safely; but neither vessel was the _Speedie_.
The days ran into weeks, till blank despair that had succeeded the
period of anxiety gave place to the strange calm of resignation.
At length, at the invitation of some of her relatives, my mother sold
up her home and moved into a small house at Portsmouth, having enough
to keep us in comparative comfort.
Thus in my fourteenth year I found myself about to be bound 'prentice
to learn the art and mystery of a mariner, and it is at this point
that my narrative begins.
CHAPTER II.
THE _DAMSEL OF LYME_.
ONE afternoon I was sitting on the beach close to the iron chain that
crosses the mouth of the Portsmouth Harbour--the same chain that had
been wrought at great expense by the order of King Henry, the father
of our gracious sovereign Lady Queen Elizabeth, for the purpose of
keeping out hostile ships, though many would have it that 'twould not
avail 'gainst a man-of-war standing in with wind and tide.
With me was my boon companion, Jack Staynton, a lad two years my
senior, and son of the selfsame Roger Staynton who had been
disfranchised under strange circumstances during the late reign.
The elder Staynton was a man of uncommon ideas, who firmly believed
in taking stern measures to redress his grievances when milder
actions failed.
Nearly thirty years before he was master-gunner of the town of
Portsmouth, and received an offer to be made a burgess. But being
accused of having unlawfully taken possession of an iron gun
belonging, 'tis said, to the town and not to Her Majesty, he took
umbrage, and promptly told the Mayor that the burgess-ship was not
worth a clout to wipe his dirty shoes, and that he would not accept
the so-called honour.
Smarting under the insult, the Mayor "presented" Roger Staynton for
not giving up the gun, and the master-gunner was ordered to surrender
the piece of ordnance by a certain date. Staynton appealed to Her
Majesty in vain. Thereupon, with a score of boon comrades he hauled
the cannon to the Mayor's house, and calling his worship forth, had
him placed astraddle of the piece, chaining his ankles together so
that the unfortunate chief magistrate could not release himself. All
that night the Mayor remained in possession of the town's gun, and in
a far different manner than he bargained for; but ere morning Roger
Staynton was on the high seas, bound for the coast of Flanders, where
he served bravely with the Dutch 'gainst their Spanish oppressors.
These doings occurred in the reign of Bloody Mary, but on Her Most
Gracious Lady Queen Elizabeth's accession Roger hastened to return
home, and was reinstated in his office of master-gunner.
Jack Staynton showed fair promise of inheriting his sire's impetuous
bravery and hot-headed disposition. Withal he was good-hearted and of
a pleasant manner, save when thwarted in what he considered to be his
rights. Though two years older than I, he was full three inches
shorter in stature, his body being over broad in proportion to his
height.
From his cradle his father had taught him to hate the Spaniards, and
that doctrine, being akin to mine own, strengthened our mutual
friendship.
"By Kit! yore's a strange rig," exclaimed Jack, pointing to a long,
rakish-looking pinnace that was standing in towards the
harbour. She was about fifty feet in length, with a deep sheer
amidships, her poop being well raised, though not so lofty in
proportion to many of the Queen's ships. She had both fore and aft
masts, raking well aft. Her mainyard had been lowered, for her crew
were shortening sail, but from her foreyard a huge square sail was
drawing to the following breeze.
"Ay, 'tis not a craft of these parts," I replied. "Yonder sail was
not cut in the ports of Hampshire or Sussex. Mark well the tumble
home of her sides, and her long, lean bows. She must be a wholesome
vessel for hard weather, and swift withal."
"Well spoken, young master!" exclaimed a fisherman who was standing
close by. "'Tis the _Damsel of Lyme_, and hath been arrested by the
Vice-Admiral Horsey on a charge of piracy on the high seas."
"Is that so?" asked Jack eagerly. "And what will come o' it?"
"They will take her into the Camber Quay. If so be the charge is
proved, 'tis the halter for her crew," replied the man. "Perchance
you would like to see the pinnace moored; that being so, I'll put you
across in my boat."
We eagerly assented, and accompanying the fisherman along a narrow
tongue of shingle that separated the harbour from the vast extent of
mud that at high tide served as the Camber, we crossed to the quay.
Here many of the townsfolk had already assembled. There was Master
John Highfield, the Mayor, with Master Owen Tottye, who had held the
office two years before. They were holding close converse with a
short, rotund man whose white hair and grey pointed beard contrasted
strangely with his deep red complexion.
"'Tis Sir Henry Radclyffe, the Governor of the town," whispered Jack,
as we clambered up the worn stone steps of the quay. "A right worthy
gentleman, and a brave soldier. My father has served under him in
times past, and has nothing but praise for him."
"Yet he seems to have continual differences with the Mayor," I
replied.
"'Tis but natural, when a town has two masters," remarked Jack
sagely. "Dost not remember last Monday before Michaelmas, when the
same Mayor was elected, how that my father had orders from Sir Henry
concerning the discharge of ordnance from the platform for the
Mayor's salute, and that this Master Highfield had words with the
Governor regarding the number of guns that were to be fired? 'Tis
even the same, and perchance 'twill always be."
Jack was right, for at that moment a dispute was in progress as to
who should have charge of the prisoners--five evil-looking cut-purses
who had been caught in the very act of robbing a Shoreham trader off
the Isle of Wight. The Mayor claimed the culprits under the
jurisdiction of the town, while Sir Henry Radclyffe insisted that
they should be the prisoners of the State.
"Well met, Master Staynton!" exclaimed the Governor, as Jack's
father, the master-gunner, came up and saluted his superior. "I would
have your advice on this matter."
Thereupon Sir Henry proceeded to give his version of the affair,
while the Mayor and his councillors, knowing the master-gunner of
old, drew long faces at the obvious decision of the old war-dog.
"Of a truth, Sir Henry, you could not do better than follow the
example of your predecessor, the worthy Sir Adrian Poynings," replied
the master-gunner. "With him right was might and might was right; so,
saving your presence, I will send for the guard."
"Excellent!" exclaimed the Governor. "You hear, Master Mayor? I will
have and hold these caitiffs. You can hold the pinnace and dispose of
her as you think fit. 'Tis but dividing the spoil."
Under the circumstances the Mayor could but submit. The prisoners
were removed to the guardroom, while the Town Clerk and his
assistants proceeded to take an inventory of the confiscated pinnace.
No one saying us nay, we mingled with the burgesses and townsfolk who
were wandering all over the little craft, inspecting with evident
curiosity the vessel that had earned such an infamous notoriety in
the Channel.
On board I was surprised at her roomy appearance. Save for the break
of the poop, I found she was flush fore and aft, a low bulwark
for'ard giving slight protection to a couple of small iron sakers,
while on her poop an iron culverin was mounted on a swivel, so as to
command a wide range on both sides of the ship.
Abaft the foremast was a large hatchway giving access to the hold,
while betwixt the mainmast and the poop a smaller opening led to the
main cabin, the space under the poop-deck being entirely open save
for a low bulkhead rising to a height barely two feet from the deck.
This, then, was the _Damsel of Lyme_, a vessel that had kept the sea
in all weathers for more than two years, during which period it was
known that she had taken much booty both from the Spaniards and our
own countrymen, disposing of it at a handsome profit in the ports of
Brittany.
All at once my attention was directed towards a tall, bearded man
clad in a jerkin and trunks of blue serge, while around his neck hung
a silver whistle on a chain of the same metal. Round his waist was a
broad belt of undressed leather, in which was thrust a short
sheath-knife, counterbalanced by a bulky wallet.
His head was closely cropped, revealing a high forehead. His
eyebrows, instead of being arched, seemed to form one continuous
straight line, while his deep-set eyes had a grave expression. His
nose was straight and inclined to broadness. Beyond that the rest of
his face was hidden by his reddish-hued beard.
That he was a stranger to the town I had no doubt, for I knew nearly
every one by sight. None of the other persons on board spoke to him,
though many were the inquisitive glances that were thrown towards the
tall seaman--since seaman he must surely be.
Presently he straightened himself--for being 'tween decks he had been
unable to stand upright--till his head and shoulders appeared above
the coamings of the hatch.
"Sink me," I heard him mutter, "this craft ought to suit me right
well." Then, seeing us, he said:
"Tell me, shipmates, is there a decent, well-conducted inn where I
may obtain good accommodation?"
"There is the Star hard by the Town House, in the High Street," I
replied, flattered to think that the stranger should condescend to
address us as shipmates.
"A fig for the Star," he bellowed, heedless or ignorant of the fact
that Giles Bickley, the host, was within earshot. "The sack was sour
and the mulled ale as flat as a duck pond. I tarried there overnight,
and this morning my head was as thick as this carline."
"Then there are the Dragon, the Lyon, the White Hart, and the Rose,
all standing close together just off St. Nicholas Street," quoth
Jack. "'Twould be hard if a veteran salt like you, good sir, did not
find one of these to his liking."
"Cleverly said, my young haul-the-bowline; but, tell me, is the law
long-winded in this town? When is the matter concerning the disposal
of the _Damsel of the Lyme_ likely to be settled?"
I shook my head. Such things were beyond me.
"'Twould not be amiss to ask my friend's father," I remarked. "Yonder
he stands. He is called Roger Staynton, and he is master-gunner of
this town."
"What! Do I hear aright? Old Roger Staynton? Grammercy!"
And springing upon the deck without deigning to make use of the
ladder, the stranger leapt upon the quay and made his way towards
Jack's father.
Curious to know more of this remarkable personage, we followed, and
were surprised to see the master-gunner wring the stranger's hand
with unwonted vehemence.
"Holá, comrade!" he exclaimed. "Only to think that I should see
Hannibal Cleat again! Man, methought you had gone down in the
Venture, when I saw her with mine own eyes founder off the Texel."
"'Tis a long story, Roger, and 'twill keep. But----"
"Nay, stand not talking here. Do me the honour of staying at my
abode, Captain. What I have is at your service. Jack," he added,
"hasten and inform your mother that I am bringing an old friend,
Captain Hannibal Cleat (of whom she has ofttimes heard me speak), to
see her. Ralph, you can go with him, and await our coming. No doubt
the Captain will make you yearn for a life on the salt seas."
CHAPTER III.
CAPTAIN HANNIBAL CLEAT.
IT was quite a sumptuous repast that Mistress Staynton had provided,
and Captain Cleat did full justice to it. During the meal he spoke
little, saying that 'twas his custom to do one thing at a time, and
that right well.
But after dinner was over and the last bumper of sack drained, Master
Roger Staynton led the way to the garden. It was a delightful spot,
cool even in summer. Seven or eight large oak trees spread their
branches over the springy turf of the lawn, that on three sides was
enclosed by a lofty stone wall partially garbed in ivy.
Betwixt the trees could be seen the tower of the Church of St.
Thomas, but beyond that there was nothing to show that the
master-gunner's garden was in the midst of a town. Even the rumble of
the carts over the rough streets and the noise and bustle of the
townsfolk seemed unable to penetrate the seclusion of this walled-in
place; and here in his hours of leisure Master Staynton forgot even
his oft-recurring bickerings with the Mayor and his associates.
Here, sprawling at his ease on an oaken bench, Captain Hannibal Cleat
made up for his reticence at table, and tale after tale he told of
the Spanish Main, of the Caribs, of tempest and calm, of battles
against Dons, Turks, and infidels, till I almost forgot I was in the
master-gunner's garden.
"The sea! There is naught like it for a sturdy English lad!" he
exclaimed. "It passes my understanding why the youth of this country
hang back, when so much profit and adventure await them in foreign
parts. What say you, young master? Your name has again slipped my
memory."
"Ralph Roy," I replied. "And soon I am to be bound 'prentice to learn
the art and mystery of a mariner."
"So? To whom?"
"Perchance to Master William Terge, who commands the good ship
_Loyalty_, or else to Master Dionysius Savage, of the Ark. But 'tis
the amount of the premium that is to be considered, since my mother
can ill afford to give much."
"Hast no father?" asked the Captain.
"My father was a Queen's pilot. Richard Roy his name. He was lost off
this coast in a great storm. His name, perchance, is known to you,
good sir?"
"Roy?" exclaimed the Captain reflectively. "I verily believe I can
call him to mind. Have we not met him in the course of our wanderings
abroad, Roger?"
"Nay, I cannot recall it, comrade," replied the master-gunner. "I
have only made Mistress Roy's acquaintance since she came to dwell in
Portsmouth."
"Then let it pass. But should I be able to buy the _Damsel of Lyme_
in open market, wouldst be willing to be bound 'prentice to me?"
"'Tis a small craft to adventure yourself in, Hannibal!" exclaimed
Roger Staynton; "and a boy would find it go hard with him in a gale
of wind."
"Tut, tut! I mean to have two 'prentices. They would be as happy as
sandboys. As for the _Damsel of Lyme_, she is small, yet well found.
Which is to be preferred, Roger--a sweet, wholesome craft of little
tonnage, with sound gear and well manned, or a lubberly ship with
rotten tackle, such as is oft to be seen at sea in all weathers?"
"You already speak as if the pinnace were yours, comrade," remarked
the master-gunner with a grim smile.
"Roger, I thought you knew me of old. Hast ever seen me to be bent
from my purpose?"
"Ay, once," replied the elder Staynton, laughing. "Dost remember that
little affair at Aix in '63?"
"Let that pass," interrupted Captain Cleat, in obvious confusion;
then, recovering his composure, he continued: "Well, Master Roy,
we'll put off the answer to my question for a while, but should you
care to broach the subject to your mother, with the deepest respects
of Captain Hannibal Cleat, 'twould not come amiss. Tell her that the
premium is of little moment, provided that the 'prentice is able and
willing. 'Obey orders unquestioningly': that's my advice to all lads,
whether they be budding seamen or mere land-lubbers."
However, I did not mention the matter to my mother that night,
preferring to see whether Captain Cleat did succeed in purchasing the
pinnace. I had also made up my mind to ask Jack Staynton some
questions concerning his father's old comrade; so after breakfast on
the following day I made my way to the house in Hog market Street.
Jack was already out, having gone down to the quay with his
fishing-line. Thither I hurried, only to find him standing outside
the gate, where a broad-sheet had been fixed to a notice board on the
wall.
"What do you make of it, Roy?" he asked, being an indifferent
scholar. At that time I was only a little better, but by dint of much
puzzling and cudgelling of my brains I deciphered the crabbed
writing.
It was as follows:--
1) "An Invitory taken y{e} XXI day of June in y{e} XXV yeare of
our soveraigne ladye Elizabeth by the grace of God of Englande,
ffrance and Ireland, Quene defender of the fayth, etc., of all such
goods as are in y{e} Damsell of Lyme of y{e} burden of XXI tunns.
Imprimus a pinnace w{th} y{e} mayne and fore masts and yards to
y{e} same.
Item on grapnell w{th} an olde Cable con XIV vadom.
Item on iron pott w{th} a well kettell.
Item ij longe oars ij bowes, on hand-sawe and ij hatchetts. Item on
ax, on compas, on olde sworde, ij sakers and on culverin.
Item a water barrell and a stoupe.
Item a mayne sayle w{th} a topp sayle.
Item a tilt sayle of VIIj brethes of clothe to the houps.
Item a ship cheste and in the same two remnants of whyte wulley
clothe of IIj elles on littell vynager bottell a q{rt} can a virkyn
of salt.
Item three hogshedds of powder whereof one is spoylt XXIV shott of
yron XXX shott of stone.
By Mr. John Highfield esquire maior it is appointed that y{e}
Damsell of Lyme be sold in open courte on y{e} twenty-nynth daie of
June, 1582 at y{e} houre of XI in y{e} forenoone."
1) Taken from a contemporary record.
"So the pinnace is to be sold in eight days' time," remarked Jack.
"Captain Cleat will have to wait awhile. But the charge against the
crew was soon proved."
"Ay, up to the hilt. They are to be chained to posts on the
foreshore, so that the rising tide will drown them," I replied.
"Master Jennings told me of the sentence this morning. But what think
ye of your father's guest?" I asked bluntly.
"A hearty sea-dog, nothing more or less," replied Jack. "True, he's
given vent to many strange oaths and has played havoc with the mulled
ale and sack, but he is ever most devout in all religious exercises,
which pleases my mother mightily."
"Is he," I continued anxiously, "a man who would prove a just and
honest master? I am in no mind to be bullied and browbeaten by any
man."
"I trow you will have to put up with plenty of hard words and harder
knocks ere you come to man's estate," replied Jack sagely. "But I
would I were with you in this matter, Ralph. Did not Captain Cleat
say he would want two 'prentices?"
"Would your father say yea?" I asked eagerly.
"I can but ask him. But here comes the Captain."
"Good morrow to ye, lads," was Captain Hannibal's gruff yet hearty
greeting. "I heard it said that the announcement of the sale is out."
"Ay," announced Jack, after he had returned his salutation. "'Tis on
the other side of the quay gate."
"By my beard, I can make nought on't," grumbled the Captain, after he
had stood in front of the notice, had inclined his head to the left
and to the right, and had walked backwards for several paces in his
efforts to read the crabbed writing. "Canst read, shipmate?" he
bellowed in my ear.
"I'll try, sir," I replied; and, having already deciphered the Town
Clerk's manuscript, I proceeded quickly with my task, the Captain
gripping my shoulder heavily in his eagerness.
"The twenty-ninth day of June!" he exclaimed impatiently. "What
long-winded lubbers they are! Master Jack, your good father will tire
of his old comrade ere then."
"Nay, I can answer for that, Captain Cleat," replied my companion.
"But if Ralph goes as your 'prentice, could I not go also? I remember
you said you wanted two."
"Nay, lad, 'tis not to be thought of. Many a long-standing friendship
has been wrecked upon the rocks of enmity through the like. I am too
much beholden to your sire to take upon myself the care of his son.
'Twould also capsize the proper feeling 'twixt master and 'prentice
were I to have you aboard. Therefore think no more of it, my lad."
Then, observing our crestfallen looks, he clapped each of us on the
back. "Cheer-ho! 'tis for the best. Perchance you'll both be
shipmates on the same craft ere another seven years are spent. Did
you say aught to your mother, Ralph?"
"Nay," I replied. "I waited----"
"Waited for what?" demanded Captain Cleat peremptorily. "Did I not
tell you to ask?"
"I thought 'twas a request," I faltered.
"Request? Sink me! I never request--I order. Mark it well."
And, turning on his heel, Captain Hannibal Cleat lurched away in true
nautical style, leaving me to wonder at the varying moods of the man
who might by mine own choice become my master.
CHAPTER IV.
JACK STAYNTON.
ACTING on Captain Cleat's so-called order, I told my mother of his
proposal to take me as 'prentice. Although glad of the offer, since
the question of a premium was a weighty one, she did not at once give
her consent, but made inquiries of Master Roger Staynton concerning
his old comrade.
"'I faith, Mistress Roy," he replied, "what would ye have me say?
Captain Cleat has been my boon companion divers times past, and
though he is rough in manner and speech, I wot that he is
good-hearted and just withal. Certainly he is a man of many parts and
many peculiarities, but I would not tarry to send mine own son to sea
with him. Yet--and I look upon it as one of the Captain's whims--he
straightway refused him."
With this qualified recommendation my mother sought fit to accede to
Captain Hannibal Cleat's demand, and it was decided that, should the
Captain put to sea in the _Damsel of Lyme_, I was to be bound
apprentice to him for six years, to learn the art and mystery of a
seaman in consideration of the sum of five pounds.
At length the day appointed for the sale came round, and early in the
morning Jack and I went aboard the _Damsel of Lyme_, where, in
company with about a score of other lads, we swarmed up the rigging
in spite of the efforts of the tipstaffs to dislodge us.
Beneath we could see Captain Cleat as he paced the deck with a
self-confident manner, as if he were already in command; yet we
noticed that he shrewdly took stock of each newcomer, viewing in him
a possible rival for the possession of the _Damsel of Lyme_.
Just before the hour of eleven the Mayor, his assistants, and a score
of burgesses arrived on the scene, attended by the sergeant-at-mace,
the town clerk, two scriveners, the crier, and a guard of javelin
men.
At the quay-side they waited, the Mayor looking with ill-concealed
annoyance in the direction of the Governor's house, for ere the sale
could commence, being partly a State affair, 'twas necessary that the
Governor or his representative should attend in person.
It was quite ten minutes past the hour when the roll of drums
announced the arrival of Sir Henry Radclyffe. Attended by a
half-company of archers and pikemen, with several captains, the
master-gunner and master-bowyer in his train, the Governor strode
with measured step to the quay-side, where he gravely received and
returned the salute of the representatives of the borough.
Then at a sign from the Mayor a tall, gaunt man, dressed in sober
russet, mounted upon a rostrum, and proceeded to give a voluminous
description of the confiscated pinnace.
"Cut it short! Cut it short!" I heard Captain Cleat mutter
impatiently. Several of those whose business it was to bid for the
_Damsel of Lyme_ began to cough, with the same idea of curtailing the
speaker's verbosity, but all to no purpose. The man was not to be
gainsaid, and though he undoubtedly heard the muttered interruptions,
he sonorously continued his discourse.
At length the bidding began, Captain Cleat taking no active part
during the first five offers. Then the bids seemed to hang fire, in
spite of the official's urgent appeals to the sound judgment of his
audience.
Planting his legs firmly apart, as was his wont, Captain Hannibal
Cleat tapped his well-filled wallet, then folded his massive arms
across his chest.
"Enough of this child's play, my masters!" he exclaimed. "I mean to
bid and bid hard, so if there be a man worthy to be called a man let
him bid against me. Only mark well lest I let him have the pinnace at
a long price," and straightway the Captain bid a pound more than the
last offer.
The challenge was taken up by a ship-master of Poole, but after a
while, fearing that the Captain would avail himself of his threat,
and leave the pinnace on his hands at a high price, the Dorset man
fell out, leaving Captain Cleat to buy the _Damsel of Lyme_ for the
sum of thirty-four pounds.
For the next three days the Captain worked from morn till night on
his new purchase. He had shipped two hands--rough-looking men they
seemed to me--and the task of refitting the pinnace proceeded amain.
Yet he found time to accompany my mother and me to the house of
Master Owen Tottye, a former mayor and magistrate of the town. By him
I was formally bound 'prentice to Captain Cleat, and a copy of the
indenture handed to my mother.
This done, Master Tottye gave me a short homily on the necessity for
obedience, and exhorted me to strive to make my way in the world.
The magistrate was in truth well qualified to give advice, for he had
risen himself. When first he came to Portsmouth he set up as a
glover, but "not being free," had been presented and fined eleven
times. Yet in spite of persecution--for 'twas nought else--Master
Owen Tottye succeeded in being elected a burgess. Nor was he content
to remain such, for ere long he became mayor's assistant and finally
mayor. 'Tis said that he hoped again to receive the honour of being
elected mayor at the hands of his fellow-townsmen.
Nor did Master Tottye's kindness end with words of cheer, for ere we
left his house he gave me an order on his neighbour Jennyns for two
ells of russet cloth and three ells of blue serge, so that I might be
suitably apparelled in my new condition in life.
I now entered upon my duties as Captain Cleat's 'prentice, and was
soon well acquainted with the tar-brush, the caulking-iron, the
serving mallet, and divers other implements used by seamen when
refitting their craft. But though the Captain worked me hard, I had
no cause to complain, since he himself worked as hard as any of us.
At length the day appointed for the departure of the _Damsel of Lyme_
came round. She was bound for the Coast of Guinea, there to trade
with the negroes or blackamoors, and on this account the pinnace was
well armed. Certain busybodies went so far as to say that Captain
Cleat's close friendship with the master-gunner stood him in good
stead, but of the truth of the report I knew nothing. But many
expressed their opinion openly and freely that the _Damsel of Lyme_
was undermanned for such an enterprise. This coming to the ears of
Captain Cleat caused him to swear so roundly that even I, knowing his
failings in that direction, was mightily astonished.
The _Damsel of Lyme_ was to sail at tide-time, which happened to be
at three in the afternoon, so that full advantage of the down Channel
stream could be taken.
At noon, the Captain having gone ashore for dinner, and the two hands
being below, I saw Jack Staynton standing on the edge of the quay.
"Hist!" he exclaimed in a low voice, for he was aware that the hatch
of the forepeak was open, and that the two seamen were below, "I want
to speak with you, Ralph."
Without waiting I crossed the gangplank, and stood beside him. I must
have looked a fine scarecrow, being unkempt, in my rough clothing and
smothered with iron rust and tar, while he was neatly attired in
white doublet, plum-coloured breeches, and dark blue hose, with
pinch-beck shoes mounted with polished steel buckles.
"Has Captain Cleat taken another 'prentice yet?" he asked.
"Nay, nor is he likely to," I replied.
"Then, Ralph, I'm coming with you----"
"Gracious----"
"Nay, give not vent to wonderment, but rather give me your help. The
coast is clear let me hide in the hold, and then, Ralph, we'll still
be comrades together."
Overjoyed at his proposal, and counting not the cost of our
ill-advised action, I led Jack down the after-companion. But to my
surprise the hold was battened down, and secured by an iron padlock.
Why that should be so was beyond my understanding, since I knew that
'twas only partly filled with sea-stores, it being the Captain's
intention to lower three hogshead of flour into it ere we set sail.
"I have it," I whispered. "I'll stow you in the Captain's cabin. When
he finds you 'twill matter little once we are at sea, since he is so
beholden to your father."
To this Jack agreed, and treading softly aft we gained the cabin
without interruption.
Here we cast about to find a safe hiding-place, but without success,
till I espied a ring-bolt set in the floor betwixt the table and the
stern window. By our united efforts we succeeded in raising a
trap-door, that at first sight looked like part of the deck,
disclosing a dark opening.
"'Twill be the very thing," whispered Jack.
"But be careful, it may be deep down," I added, as my companion
prepared to lower himself into the hole. "Stay while I procure a
lantern."
"There is no need," he replied. "My feet already touch the bottom.
'Tis sand or something of that sort. Now, Ralph, put the cover on."
"But you will die for want of air," I objected.
"Needs be as needs must," he replied nonchalantly. "Should it be
necessary I'll heave my back against the cover and raise it."
I had hardly hidden my daring friend and returned to my task--which
was that of tarring the dead-eyes--when I saw Captain Cleat returning
across the quay.
He had several heavy packages under his arm, and declining my offer
to help him, bore them into his cabin. There he remained for some
considerable time, while I waited in fear and trembling lest the
Captain should place his chair on top of Jack's place of concealment,
and thus unwittingly cause him to die of suffocation, or at least
compel him to make himself known, and so frustrate our plot.
Presently Captain Cleat reappeared, glanced at the wind-vane, and
gave orders for sail to be set. 'Twas a full hour before high water,
but the breeze was favourable. Unfortunately for me this hurried
departure prevented me from seeing my mother, who was to have come
down to the quay to bid me God-speed. There was one consolation: I
had already bidden her farewell in the privacy of our own home.
Nimbly the two seamen sprung aloft and set the foresail. Captain
Cleat at the tiller shouted to me to haul first on one sheet then on
another, till in the confusion I was unaware that our voyage had
really commenced.
But 'twas so, and soon the _Damsel of Lyme_ was curtsying to the
short steep waves, with my fellow-voyager, Jack Staynton, still
undiscovered in his cramped and dismal retreat.
CHAPTER V.
CAPTAIN CLEAT IN HIS TRUE COLOURS.
UNFORTUNATELY, the wind that had served us so well in clearing the
harbour soon fell light, and barely drifting with the tide, the
_Damsel of Lyme_ stood slowly down the Solent.
I now had time to ponder over recent events, for Captain Cleat,
roundly cursing the faint breeze, had retired to his cabin, leaving
one of the seamen, a red-faced, curly-headed lout with a vile
temper--as I soon found out--at the tiller. This seaman rejoiced in
the name of James, but whether 'twas his Christian name or otherwise
I could never find out. When he was not spluttering with rage he was
peevish, often complaining like a spoilt child; and looking back, I
cannot call to mind which mood was to be preferred. From my first day
afloat I got to loathe my shipmate, while he took every opportunity
to make my lot uncomfortable.
The other seaman, known as "Old Garge," as a tall, sparsely-built man
of about forty. He, too, roundly detested his shipmate, but since
James was in petty authority, being regarded as first mate of the
pinnace, he thought fit to keep in with him. Nevertheless, Garge was
of a kindly nature, despite his rough exterior, and, when out of
James' sight and hearing, did not hesitate to show me a deal of
consideration.
The pinnace still carried way, being borne rapidly westward by the
strong tide. We were abreast of Lymington River, when I heard Captain
Cleat bellow out for James to come aft. It was such a roar that the
Captain gave--though he was always shouting when on shipboard--that
even the surly seaman showed signs of surprise and ran aft in no
leisurely manner.
Presently up the after-hatchway appeared the head and shoulders of
Captain Hannibal Cleat. Then he paused to give vent to a string of
curses, and with a heave, assisted by his man, he brought into view
my friend Jack Staynton.
Even I could scarcely recognise him. His face and hands, being moist
with sweat, were smothered with a charcoal-like substance, while his
smart clothes were soiled and discoloured by the same gritty stuff.
To the accompaniment of a liberal dose of handcuffs and kicks, my
unfortunate companion was dropped upon the deck like a sack, where he
lay entreating the Captain to forbear and hear him, while I stood by
helplessly looking on at the inhuman treatment bestowed by a man who
had been Master Staynton's guest for weeks past.
At last the lad contrived to make Captain Cleat understand that he
was Jack Staynton. Thereupon he withheld his hand.
"Then what are you doing aboard the _Damsel of Lyme_?" he demanded
with an oath. "Sink me, I took you for a stowaway! How did you get
here?"
"I hid," replied Jack. "You said you wanted another 'prentice----"
"In the face of what I told you, you tried to fool me, eh?"
interrupted Captain Cleat. "Now, you couldn't have got down that
hatch by yourself. Who helped you? that leather-livered cub, Roy,
I'll swear."
Jack did not reply; thereupon the Captain called me.
"Here, you lying son of a sea-cook; what made you try and play the
fool like this?" Then in a softer tone he added: "Jack, dost know
what's on your clothes? 'Tis gunpowder, so stand aside and shake the
grains clear to lee'ard."
I trembled in spite of myself, for I remembered having offered to
light Jack's hiding-place with a candle lamp.
"I'm not to be thwarted," continued my master. "To that end I'll put
you aboard the first vessel we meet. Unless mine eyes deceive me,
there's a shallop standing in past Hurst Castle. Think of your
parents' anxiety, Jack."
Somehow or other I did not think that these last words rang true, and
there was a strange expression in the Captain's eye that boded no
good for me when once my comrade was clear of the ship.
"Nay, sir," quoth Jack. "Concerning my parents, they have already
decided to send me to sea; moreover, I have told Master Ridge to let
them know ere nightfall. That being so, why cannot I remain? You need
not fear to treat me as the others, and, grammercy, I've had a full
share already, methinks."
"Nay," replied Captain Cleat shortly. "'Tis useless to think of it."
With that he walked over to where James had resumed his place at the
tiller, and bade him steer towards the little craft we had sighted.
She was a fishing-boat, and the wind being light and contrary, they
had taken to their oars, and were attempting to take advantage of the
counter eddy that swirls past the walls of Hurst Castle.
"'Tis not to be, Ralph," said Jack, "so the best of friends must
part. But the Captain seems of a strange nature--far different from
when he was at our home. Methinks you will find him a hard master."
{Illustration: "THE TWENTY-NINTH DAY OF JUNE!" HE EXCLAIMED
IMPATIENTLY. [_p. 30._}
"He dealt brutally with you," I replied.
"Ay, I wot I am one mass of bruises. But, there, 'twas done in a
temper, and he knew not who I was. Now, Ralph, I want you----"
My companion's request was interrupted by the Captain shouting for
him to come aft, for the shallop, in reply to a hail, had rounded-to
and lay alongside our quarter.
"In you jump, young master," ordered the Captain. "These men will
land you at Portsmouth as soon as can be done; 'twill cost thy father
a mark; but do you present him with my compliments and say 'tis a sum
well spent."
With that, and before Jack could bid me farewell, Captain Cleat
lifted him clear of the low bulwarks and dropped him into the arms of
one of the fishermen.
For a long time I watched the distance slowly lengthen between the
two vessels, till a beam wind springing up that was favourable to
both, the shallop was lost to view in the haze.
Suddenly I was interrupted by the Captain's strident voice:
"Boy, come aft--I want you."
I hastened to obey, and standing bareheaded before him, was cowed by
the malevolent expression upon his bearded face.
"Now, you insubordinate young whelp, I would have words with you.
First tell me, why did you break into my cabin, being contrary to my
orders?"
"I knew of no such order, sir, neither did I break into the place."
"You lying, prevaricating young sea-lawyer!" he stormed. "I'll teach
you to obey. Take off your doublet."
Slowly I did as he ordered. My senses were numbed, yet I knew that I
was to be soundly whipped. I remember looking longingly at the shore,
and had it been nearer I would have sprung overboard and made an
effort to reach it. Captain Cleat must have read my mind, for he
shouted, "Wouldst add the crime of breaking ship to your other
villainies? Oh that a youth so wholly wicked should have been palmed
off on me!" and he seized me by the arm.
I remembered his grip when outside the quay gate. 'Twas vice-like
then, but now 'twas like to snap my arm. Then tearing my doublet from
my back, he called to James to trice me to the mast.
Taking his place at the tiller, the Captain watched the proceedings
with a fiendish leer, while his assistant was not one whit less eager
to carry out his orders.
'Twas over at last, and with my back torn and bruised with the savage
rope's ending, I was cast loose and told to make myself scarce.
Blindly I groped my way to the forepeak, where Old Garge, who had
heard the noise on deck, but had not thought it prudent to show
himself, washed my wounds with fresh water, and told me to lie down
in my bunk.
Early next morning I was awakened by the tramp of feet on deck. "Up
with you," said Garge; "they're changing watch, and 'tis your trick."
Painfully I gained the open air. Away on our starboard hand was a
long line of lofty rugged granite cliffs fringed with a line of white
foam, while seaward the skyline was unbroken.
But 'twas not the land that attracted my attention; on deck were six
ferocious-looking rascals besides Captain Cleat and his minion James.
I vaguely remembered having seen the men before, till, like a flash,
the truth came to me. They were the former crew of the _Damsel of
Lyme_, who, being convicted of piracy, were to have been drowned at
the foreshore this very day!
Observing my unrestrained look of surprise, Captain Cleat called me
over to where he stood.
"Well, sirrah! cannot I ship a number of new hands without causing
you to gape like the mouth of the bottomless pit? Know you that these
new shipmates of ours were transferred from the barque _Nonsuch_
during the night, they having had good and just cause to take up
their discharges from that ship?"
"But they are the same men as I saw marched off under guard from
this----"
I stopped suddenly, for the Captain's look of surprise at my
announcement gave place to a grim smile.
"Sink me, young Roy!" he exclaimed, "you are far smarter than I
thought. Ay, you are right, and being a sensible lad, you will keep
your own counsel--and mine--in this matter. There's a quick fortune
to be made upon the sea, my hearty, and we are going to do it. A fair
share for each of the crew, but 'twill mean hard work and no
shrinking at trifles. When Captain Hannibal Cleat means to do a thing
he is not to be turned from his purpose. Thus, for example, 'twas I
who secured these men's release and brought them safely aboard, here
to follow once again their calling. But, mark you, one unguarded
word, and you are food for the sharks. E'en if you give us the slip
you are doomed, for be it a score or more years hence the end will be
sure and certain. More, you are even now one of the crew of a pirate
ship, and if captured will assuredly be hanged in chains, for who
would take your word, being caught red-handed? Now for'ard you go,
and learn your trade at the hands of the crew."
Quickly I went, for I had good cause to remember the rope's end. I
was well-nigh stunned by the startling news, yet the fact was plain
enough. Captain Hannibal Cleat had shown himself in his true colours.
CHAPTER VI.
A PIRATE IN SPITE OF MYSELF.
'TWOULD have needed a strong-minded man with plenty of supporters to
have defied Captain Cleat. Much as I longed to be able to refuse
flatly to serve him, I felt that such a course was inadvisable--nay,
'twould be sheer madness. Moreover, I had such faith in my master's
word that I was convinced that he would have his revenge should I
contrive to break out of the pinnace.
Whatever happened I must submit--reluctantly all the same--and trust
to Providence to deliver me from the meshes of the net that had been
cast about me.
The nine desperate ruffians on board the pinnace lost no time in
preparing to attack the first helpless ship that stood across their
path, and hours were spent in practising the management of the little
craft in action.
Two of the crew manned each of the sakers, and three worked the long
culverin. Captain Cleat had charge of the helm, James was stationed
for'ard, while my duty was to bring powder from the magazine.
To my surprise this magazine was not the place in the Captain's cabin
where Jack had hidden himself, but in the midship hold, where the
powder was stored in huge casks, one barrel only to be opened at a
time as required. This being so, I thought, to what purpose was that
quantity of loose powder kept under the floor of the after-cabin?
After practice with the cannon, the men were exercised with their
arquebuses and long-bows, followed by drill with the cutlass, pike,
and boarding-axe; and the whole of the forenoon passed so rapidly
that I had little time to ponder over my distasteful position.
Meanwhile the breeze had held true, and the _Damsel of Lyme_ was well
on her way down Channel. Late in the afternoon the cry of "Sail-ho!"
brought the watch below tumbling up on deck.
The pinnace's course was altered to intercept the on-coming ship,
while the Red Cross was hoisted to her peak.
"What d'ye make of her?" asked Captain Cleat of his minion James, as
the pair of rascals stood upon the poop.
"Not too big for us to tackle," replied the mate. "A Hollander by the
cut of her bows."
"We could do with a leavening of Dutchmen," continued the Captain
reflectively. "Give 'em plenty of spirits and they'll fight for any
one save a Don. Bid our men lie hidden, and lay us alongside."
Nearer and nearer came the strange craft, the water hissing sullenly
from her bluff cutwater. Then just as James was about to lay the
pinnace across her path, the lofty sides were lined by full twoscore
men, whose breastplates and steel morions showed above the bulwarks,
while from her hitherto unseen ports a tier of brass muzzles were
thrust aggressively forward.
"Where are you coming to, you lubberly rascals?" roared a hoarse
voice. "Heave-to and give a fair account of yourselves."
My heart bounded for joy, for caught redhanded, ere the rascally crew
had time or opportunity to communicate with their friends ashore, it
was more than possible that I might escape their clutches and their
threatened revenge.
Motioning his armed crew to remain hidden, Captain Cleat came to the
gangway.
"_Golden Cross_ ahoy!" he shouted. "I bear letters for the worthy
Captain Amyas Thorrogood."
"This is not the _Golden Cross_," replied the officer on the Queen's
ship for such she was; "who and what are you?"
"The _Mary_ of and from Weymouth," replied Captain Cleat. "Chartered
by Sir John Granville to bear letters to Captain Thorrogood."
"Then make sure 'tis the _Golden Cross_ ere you stand across the bows
of another Queen's ship. Get you on your way."
Laboriously the yards of the pinnace were swung round, and she stood
off on her former course, the overjoyed rascals still lying hid till
the cause of their alarm was well-nigh hull down.
"'Twas a near thing, Cap'n!" exclaimed James, with a mirthless laugh.
"But for your ready wit----"
"Avast flattery," replied Captain Cleat shortly. "It served its
purpose."
All that night and the following day passed without incident, but
just as it was getting dusk, the granite cliffs of Land's End showing
a league or so on our starboard quarter, another sail was reported.
This time 'twas a small sloop manned by four men and a boy.
Unsuspectingly they allowed us to approach to within half a cable's
length, but on Captain Cleat hailing to them to heave-to they took
alarm, put their helm hard down, and attempted flight.
We immediately stood in pursuit, the wind being well on our beam, and
now the _Damsel of Lyme_ showed her speed. Yet the chase was no bad
sailer, and all but held her own.
James was for letting her have a dose from the culverin, but to this
Captain Cleat objected, saying that the noise of the firing would
bring some of the large armed fishing luggers out of Penzance to see
what was amiss.
"Then we stand to lose her in the darkness," objected the mate.
"Peace, fool," replied the Captain, giving a swift glance shorewards.
"Keep her as she is till I give the word, then see to it that you put
the tiller hard over."
Onward tore the sloop in search of shelter or succour, while at her
heels raced the _Damsel of Lyme_, with her ferocious crew ready to
cast grapnels and board the moment 'twas possible to come within
reach.
"Down helm!" roared Captain Cleat, having caught sight of a peculiar
swirl in the water ahead of the two vessels.
Round swung the _Damsel of Lyme_, but ere the pursued could realise
the meaning of this sudden change of course the sloop struck with
terrific force upon a submerged rock. For a brief instant she pounded
heavily, her mast going by the board with a crash, then gradually
sank till she settled upon the reef.
Hastily the pinnace was hove-to, her longboat swung out by means of
tackles from her yard-arms, and into it swarmed James and four of the
men, all armed to the teeth.
Being but a short distance on, I could follow their movements with
ease. Ignoring the entreaties of the master and crew of the sloop,
the villains plundered all that was of value in the cabin. 'Twas but
little, and this served to exasperate the pirates.
"Shall we finish the business?" shouted the mate, passing his
forefinger lightly across his throat.
"Stave in their boat--'twill suffice," replied the Captain; and in an
undertone he added, "'Tis not the first time that the Runnelstone has
served me well--I pray 'twill never be otherwise."
Promptly the pirates carried out the Captain's orders. The only boat
carried by the sloop--and a frail cockle-shell at that--was shattered
across keel and garboards by a few heavy blows with an axe.
Already the waves were beginning to break asunder the planks on the
weather side of the doomed sloop, and her utter destruction would be
the matter of about half an hour. Mutely the crew watched with
despairing eyes the double work of the sea and of the scum who
infested it. They knew the significance of the mate's question, and,
realising that 'twould be useless to beg for mercy, could only wait,
trusting in some chance of fate whereby they might escape.
Their diabolical act having been accomplished, the pirates prepared
to re-embark in the longboat that was moored bow and stern on the
lee-side of the shattered sloop. As they did so Old Garge suddenly
seized the boy, and, in spite of his cries of terror, bore him to the
side and dropped him upon the boat's bottom boards.
I could see James grumblingly protest at this act of mercy, but the
old seaman for once stuck to his point, and soon the longboat was
alongside the pinnace as she tossed and pitched in the short steep
seas. By dint of great exertion and no little risk the boat was
hoisted in, and the work of retrimming the sail was proceeded with.
Ere the _Damsel of Lyme_ had covered half a league no traces of the
wrecked sloop remained, the seas sweeping over the dreaded rock. One
act of wanton cruelty had been committed, and the pirates were no
better off, save to the extent of a few barrels of stale provisions,
some trivial objects from the cabin, and a terror-stricken boy.
"The snivelling youngster may be the cause of our undoing," grumbled
James. "'Twould be well to toss him overboard."
"He'll come in handy to help serve the guns, sir," remarked Garge.
"Besides, he'll soon knuckle under."
"I'll warrant he will," replied Captain Cleat grimly, "or I shall
have something to say in the matter. You, Roy, take this blubbering
boy for'ard, and see to it that he mends his ways, and that quickly."
Ere long I succeeded in quieting the lad, who was not ten years of
age, and gained his confidence sufficiently to hear his story.
It was his first voyage, the sloop being the _Jane_ of and from
Padstow, and bound for Ipswich.
Beyond that he could tell me little, having been down with
sea-sickness during the voyage round Land's End. It was a matter of
some trouble to understand all he said, for he spoke in a quaint
Cornish dialect, many of the words being beyond my comprehension.
After a while I told him of the circumstances under which I had been
bound 'prentice to this villainous Captain Cleat, and impressed upon
him the necessity, for his own sake, of obeying the pirates' orders,
since he might plead compulsion if good fortune delivered him from
this accursed ship.
With that he brightened up, and began to tell me--as they say
Cornishmen are fond of doing--all his family's history, bringing in
names of people whom I never expect to meet. Yet I gleaned that the
lad's name was Dick Buzza, his father being a fisherman of Padstow.
The _Jane_ was not manned by any of the lad's relations, but every
member of her crew was an acquaintance of the elder Buzza, so that
the ruthless abandonment of the hapless men told heavily upon the
sole survivor.
For the next month our cruise was full of incident. Hardly a day
passed without some vessel or other being spoken. In some cases
Captain Cleat thought fit to maintain the role of harmless trader; in
others he did not hesitate to cripple the stranger with gun-fire, and
complete the work by boarding and cutting down every member of the
crew. Then, having plundered the prize, he would send her to the
bottom.
Soon our booty became so large that the _Damsel of Lyme_, deeply
laden, was compelled to put into an obscure port of Brittany, where
unscrupulous persons were ever ready to purchase the ill-gotten cargo
without troubling how or whence it came.
Even though I made up my mind to break away from these lawless
ruffians at the first available opportunity, it seemed as if I was
doomed to exist in a state of bondage, for while in port I was not
allowed to set foot ashore. Even my actions while on deck were
subjected to a strict watch. This, in a measure, was a kind of
consolation, for had Captain Cleat had confidence in the effect of
his threat he would not have been so jealous of my liberty while in
port.
In any case I knew full well that my life was in peril on board the
_Damsel of Lyme_--be it at the hands of the pirates or their
antagonists. This thought prompted me to cast about to find some
means of freeing myself from the toils of Captain Hannibal Cleat, but
ere long my deliverance was effected in a very unsatisfactory manner.
It was, indeed, a case of out of the stock-pot into the fire. But of
that anon.
CHAPTER VII.
CATCHING A TARTAR.
ONE bright morning the _Damsel of Lyme_ cast off from the quay at
Plougastel and headed for the open waters of the vast Bay of Biscay.
The number of our crew was now increased by two, the new hands being
two drunken Breton fishermen who had been induced to serve aboard the
pinnace under no false pretences. Fishermen they were termed, yet I'd
wager that they were wreckers.
With stores replenished and the men flush with money--for the _Damsel
of Lyme_ had weighed directly the proceeds of the booty had been
apportioned--the pinnace sailed with a definite object in view.
A rich convoy was expected at Corunna from the Indies, and, since
'twas almost certain that the merchantmen would straggle, Captain
Cleat hoped to be able to cut off one of the deeply-laden craft
without much chance of being discovered. So a course was shaped
towards Cape Finisterre, where more express news might be obtained as
to the expected arrival of the Hispaniola Fleet.
For five or six days the _Damsel of Lyme_ cruised off the north-west
Spanish coast. Several small coasting craft were judiciously
questioned, for Captain Hannibal Cleat was a born play-actor, and
adopted the role of a pilot of the Douro River to perfection. Thus,
without causing alarm, he was able to obtain all the information
possible, though 'twas not sufficient nor definite enough to please
him.
At length, above the long regular rollers of the Atlantic appeared
the topsails of a large fleet, straggling over more than ten miles of
sea.
The wind was north-west, and the ships were sailing as close to the
wind as possible. This was to our advantage, since those that made
the worst leeway tailed off the farthermost from their escort.
"'Tis the silver fleet, sure enow!" exclaimed the Captain. "We'll lie
close, and ere morning yonder caravel will be ours."
He pointed to a cumbersome-looking high-sided vessel that, unable to
sail within a point of the next worst ship, had already drifted a
good league from the rest of the convoy.
A look of malevolent joy passed over the features of the rascally
crew. There was determination written on their faces; they meant to
take the marked ship at all costs. Some of their number might fall
and could ill be spared, but, after all, what mattered? The larger
would be the share of the spoil.
Running well before the wind the _Damsel of Lyme_ passed a good two
leagues from the caravel, and, as darkness set in, turned her course
towards the twinkling poop-lanterns of the unsuspecting Spaniard.
Captain Cleat's plans were well laid. The three pieces of ordnance
were crammed to their muzzles with scraps of iron, the arquebuses
were carefully charged and primed, while every man, stripped to the
waist, had decorated his bronzed face and body with weird designs in
red ochre and white chalk.
"Mark well what I say, boys," ordered the Captain; "when we board do
you remain here. Recharge all three cannon and keep your matches
ready for instant use."
Although the pinnace was a pirate ship the Spaniards are our natural
enemies; thus I had no compunction in carrying out my instructions
with a good grace.
At about two hours after midnight the pinnace crept within
pistol-shot of the caravel, yet not a sound betrayed our presence to
the careless watch on deck.
We could see her tall masts and faintly-drawing canvas standing out
against the darkness of the night, the phosphorescent swirl from her
rudder, and the curling bow-wave from her bluff entry. Occasionally
we could hear the quick chatter of a pair of quarrelsome sailors, or
the twang of a mandolin, while through her brilliantly-lighted
stern-gallery windows came the clatter of the dice, for her officers
were playing far into the night.
Motioning the helmsman to keep an even course, Captain Cleat sprang
into the main chains on the larboard side. For a few moments he
watched, then his stentorian voice awoke the stillness of the night.
"Surrender, you Spanish dogs!"
He spoke in English, knowing full well that the officers, as well as
most of the common seamen, would readily understand the stern
summons.
'Twas all confusion. Men rushed hither and thither, but for the most
part they clustered in the bulwarks, ready to repel with pike and
sword any attempt at boarding.
This was exactly as Captain Cleat wished, for when the crush was at
its height he gave orders to open fire.
The iron hail tore gaps in the dense mass of men, then ere the
survivors could recover from their surprise, the two vessels were
rubbing sides, and every man aboard the pinnace discharged his
arquebus, then leapt for the lofty bulwarks of the caravel.
All this while we were not idle, for we placed double charges into
the culverin and the two sakers, filling up their gaping muzzles with
a mixture of death-dealing missiles.
Just as we had completed the task I suddenly became aware of a
strange lull in the conflict. Then, with a yell of rage and pain,
Captain Hannibal Cleat's enormous body leapt from the bulwarks of the
Spanish craft right on to our narrow deck.
"Let 'em have it!" he shouted to me, at the same time running forward
with an axe.
The blinding flash of the culverin and the death-dealing storm of
iron checked those of the Spaniards who would have jumped aboard us.
The first saker cooled their ardour still more, and, ere I could
bring the match to the third piece, Captain Cleat had severed the
rope that held us to the caravel, and instantly the gap betwixt us
began to widen.
"Bravely done, lad!" shouted my master, as he came aft for the
tiller. 'Twas the only sentence of admiration he had ever addressed
to me since I set foot aboard the _Damsel of Lyme_, and the pleasure
of hearing him speak thus made me forget that I was aught but an
Englishman fighting 'gainst the might of Spain.
Once more another irregular volley whizzed around us, but the pinnace
was already slipping through the water, and beyond a few splinters
and the severing of a rope or two no great damage was done. This
discharge was followed by a desultory fire till the last report
echoed across the sea.
The _Damsel of Lyme_ was lost to the sight of our foes in the
blackness of the night.
Beyond the few words Captain Cleat had uttered when he regained the
deck of the pinnace not a word had been spoken. He remained at the
helm, his huge body leaning heavily upon the massive oaken tiller and
his head slightly inclined as if lost in thought. Owing to the
darkness I could not distinguish his features, but the exertion had
evidently told upon him, since I could see his broad shoulders
heaving regularly in the effort to recover his breath.
'Twas certain that the _Damsel of Lyme_ had met her match. The
attempt to board had been repulsed, and, with the exception of
Captain Cleat, every man of her crew who had set foot upon the
Spaniards' deck had either been captured or killed.
CHAPTER VIII.
CAPTURED!
NO sooner were we well away from the Spanish ship which we had so
rashly attacked than I bethought me of young Dick Buzza.
I looked around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Mustering up
courage, I braved the Captain's displeasure, and thrice called the
lad softly by name. Still there was no answer.
As Captain Cleat did not call me to silence, but remained at his
post, I went for'ard, thinking the lad was down below.
My voice echoed in the empty space of the fo'c'sle, but there came no
reassuring reply. Then the thought flashed across my mind that
perhaps the boy had been struck by a chance shot; yet I had heard no
cry of pain on board the pinnace.
It did not take me long to complete the round of her decks, but no
body lay upon her planks.
There were splinters, shattered blocks, and several ropes, while here
and there a gaping hole in the bulwarks testified that some of the
caravel's shot had told. Presently I came across a dark stain upon
the deck. Close to it was another, and more leading in a well-defined
path, till they reached the tiller, where the Captain still remained
in his attitude of seeming ease.
"You are wounded, sir!" I exclaimed, in alarm and anxiety. An hour or
so previously I would have welcomed the fact, but now, under
different circumstances, I felt sincerest compassion towards the
Captain.
"Ay, Roy," he replied, in a deep voice. "They've done for me. The
rascally caravel was packed with soldiers, and we ne'er had a
chance."
"Perchance 'tis not a mortal wound," said I. "Can I wash and bind it
up? I am not used to so doing, yet I'll do my best."
"All the binding in the world will do no good," he replied. "'Tis
bleeding inwardly. See," and, tearing open his doublet, he disclosed
a small wound in the right breast, from which the blood welled
slowly.
"Tomorrow you and the Cornish lad will be alone," he continued. "See
to it that you save the pinnace from the Spaniards. Steer
nor'-nor'-east, and, perchance, you'll be picked up by an English
craft. Make good your case, and all will be well. But if----"
Here he broke off and begged for water. This I procured, and at the
same time told him of the disappearance of Dick Buzza.
"Frightened out of his wits, I'll warrant," quoth he. "You'll
doubtless find him down below in the hold. Now leave me and get you a
decent rest, for by to-morrow you'll have your hands full, yet keep
within hearing, lest I call."
To this I demurred, but Captain Cleat insisted with such vehemence
that I instantly obeyed, wondering why he should, when at the point
of death, show such unwonted consideration for the 'prentice he had
so harshly ill-used.
I lay down upon the deck close to the foremast, with a coil of
rope for a pillow and a piece of canvas over me to keep off the heavy
dew. For a long while I could not sleep, for the excitement of the
conflict, Dick's disappearance, and the Captain's injuries were
constantly in my mind; but at length I fell into a troubled slumber.
Suddenly I was awakened by hearing the Captain shouting my name. I
started to my feet and looked around, hardly able to grasp the
situation.
It was broad daylight; the sun's rays glanced upon the long swell of
the ocean, the crests of which were ruffled by a faint southerly
breeze. Not a sail was in sight, which was much to be thankful for.
"Come hither, boy!"
The strength of the Captain's voice astonished me. Surely a man at
the point of death could scarce shout like that? Then, as I drew
near, I perceived a strange look in his eyes.
"Hasten," he continued. "Look around. We are in the midst of the
Spanish ships. They lie thick around us; but, sink me, they'll not
take the _Damsel of Lyme_!"
He paused for a moment to take his breath, then, speaking rapidly in
short, almost incoherent sentences, he continued:
"Quick, lad. Under the cabin floor lies the powder. You know of it
full well. Young Staynton was hidden there. Take this pistol, fire
right into the thick of it, and we'll make one last journey together.
Stop not to think--obey."
I stood still, trembling like a leaf. The Captain was in the grip of
delirium.
"What ho, there! Mutiny? Sink me! James! George! come hither, and
toss this rascal overboard. Where are you? A murrain on all of you,
then; I'll fire the mine myself."
Silently I crept behind him and placed myself betwixt the cabin and
the tiller. At all events, I must prevent Captain Cleat from putting
his insane resolve into execution.
"Ha, there you are, you young rogue! Now, for the last time, wilt do
it? Nay? Then take this, for Captain Hannibal Cleat was never known
to miss."
Flourishing the heavy pistol, the demented Captain aimed full at my
head and pressed the trigger. I could hear the wheel rasping 'gainst
the flint, and saw the powder splutter in the pan. Then, moved by a
sudden impulse, I threw myself flat upon the deck. The weapon
exploded with startling report, the bullet passing through the low
bulkhead a foot or so above my head.
I picked myself up and scrambled over the breastwork, determined to
do my utmost to keep the madman at bay.
Then it was that his tone of command turned to one of entreaty.
"Hearken, Roy, and use discretion. Wouldst prefer the slow, lingering
tortures of a Spanish prison to the swift, sharp ending that would
come if we fire the powder?"
"You are mistaken," I replied. "There are no Spanish ships in sight."
With that he broke into a storm of cursing, and, leaving the tiller,
he lurched, knife in hand, towards my place of shelter.
I saw that I must act, and that quickly. Seizing a musquetoon and
wielding it clubwise, I stood on the defensive. The odds were
with me, since he was already reeling with exhaustion.
Three steps did he take, then, without any apparent warning, his
knees bent, and he fell in a heap upon the deck.
Throwing down my now needless weapon, I hastened to where he lay. One
brief glance was sufficient. Captain Hannibal Cleat was no more.
I was now free to search for Dick Buzza, so, dragging the Captain's
corpse into the shade of the poop, and covering it with an ensign, I
hastened to take a lantern and examine the two holds. I hoped that in
his fright the lad had rushed below and had fallen asleep through
sheer weakness, but a thorough search revealed nothing. His fate was
a mystery. I could only conjecture that, a prey to an irresistible
terror, he had leapt over the side.
On returning upon deck I found that the pinnace had run up in the
wind, and was lying hove-to.
Using my very scanty knowledge of seamanship, I contrived to lower
the maintopsail, square the foresail, and thus sail easily before the
wind.
By lashing the tiller I was enabled to leave the helm for long
periods, in order to attend to the preparation of my meals and to
make a thorough examination of the ship.
Ere leaving the Brittany ports she had got rid of the bulk of the
booty, but there was enough money and valuables to make a man rich
for life. 'Twas ill-gotten, truly, but that was not of my doing, so I
prepared to return to England according to Captain Cleat's
instructions ere his fit of madness came over him.
I therefore heaved the Captain's body over the side, having first
attached a piece of ballast to his feet. Then, gathering all the gold
pieces I could find, I placed them in a canvas sack and stowed them
in the limbers of the ship, so that only by the most minute search
would they be likely to be discovered.
I next proceeded to make all shipshape as far as possible, clumsily
splicing all the ropes that had been shot away, and clearing the
splinters and fragments from the deck.
Fortunately, the pinnace was well provisioned, and there was water in
abundance.
The wind, too, held true, and my spirits rose. Given fine weather and
no interference from hostile ships, I hoped to sight the English
coast within seven days. There I would run the pinnace ashore, taking
the bag of gold, and leave her to her fate. Next time I ventured
afloat I would exercise more discrimination in the choice of a
vessel, for though I hated my lot aboard the pirate ship, my desire
to take to the sea remained as strong as ever.
In this way, musing on the bright future, I continued to indulge in
pleasant day-dreams that, as each hour passed, seemed to approach
nearer to their realisation.
As night came on I lashed the helm and turned in to a comfortable
bunk in the after-cabin, trusting that the wind would hold during the
hours of darkness. Worn out and absolutely overdone with the
succession of exciting experiences, I fell into a sound, refreshing
sleep, awaking when the sun was high in the heavens.
My first thought was to wonder whether the horizon was clear of other
vessels. Truth to tell, I was not anxious, under present conditions,
to meet even an English ship, while the thought of coming across an
Algerine or a Spaniard filled me with keen anxiety.
As far as I could see there appeared no cause for alarm, but the
broiling heat of the sun had caused a slight haze to lie in thin
banks of fleecy mist upon the sea. Yet the breeze still held, and the
ship was keeping fairly on her course.
Knowing the speed of the pinnace under ordinary conditions, and
making due allowance for her reduced speed, I guessed that I was
about a hundred leagues north-north-west of Cape Finisterre, and
every hour my chance of falling in with a Spanish vessel was most
surely diminishing.
So, having seen that the _Damsel of Lyme_ held fairly on her course,
I kept the helm lashed, and went to prepare a meal. This occupied the
best part of an hour, and when I came on deck again I fancied I saw a
sail away down to the south-west.
Filled with apprehension, I made my way aloft, and from the
maintopmast head looked in the direction of the object of my
suspicions.
They were only too well founded. Visible above the bank of mist were
the topsails of a large galleon, though her hull was as yet partly
concealed by the haze.
"A Spaniard without doubt," I muttered; then taking courage in the
fact that, perchance, those on deck might not have observed my small
craft, I swarmed down on deck and proceeded to hoist the maintopsail.
It was a hard task for one pair of hands, but by the aid of tackles I
succeeded in getting the heavy yard up chock-a-block, and squaring
the drawing canvas.
Nobly the pinnace responded to the increased call upon her speed,
and, leaving a long wake astern, she slipped swiftly through the
waves.
This continued for about an hour, and, to my unbounded satisfaction,
the gap between the two vessels began to widen appreciably.
Suddenly I noticed a dark line ruffling the waters astern. The mist
disappeared as if by magic, disclosing every detail of the pursuing
craft. Almost at the same time I saw men swarming up her rigging to
shorten sail.
I knew full well what it meant. It was a squall approaching, and I
was helpless to act. Already the way of the pinnace was too great to
allow one to leave the helm. One instant's neglect to grasp the
tiller would have caused her to broach to, with disastrous results.
It must be a case of holding my course and trusting to Providence.
On board the galleon they were barely in time ere the squall overtook
her. For a moment her bluff bows sank deep in the water, then, as she
gathered an increased way, the foam flew in cascades from her stem.
This much I was able to discern by taking hasty glances over my
shoulder, and, apprehensively, I waited for the powerful gust to
overtake me.
Bracing myself at the tiller, I endeavoured to keep the _Damsel of
Lyme_ straight before the wind. I could hear its moaning, yet dared
not face the on-coming danger. Then, with a loud groaning and
straining, the braces began to tauten, and the canvas to belly out as
the first puff struck the pinnace; but ere she could gather
sufficient way, the main squall swooped down.
I felt the water swirling up to my knees, while in the midst of a
deafening crash the mainmast snapped off three feet from the deck,
the wreckage wrenching the foreyard from its slings. Then, as the
little craft broached to, the vicious green seas swept clean over
her, and it was as much as I could do to save myself from being swept
overboard.
Within ten minutes the squall had passed, and the weather was calm
again, though the sea still ran high. The pinnace still floated, and,
in spite of the trailing wreckage, seemed fairly buoyant.
I looked around for the Spanish ship. During the squall she had
considerably overrun the _Damsel of Lyme_, but had backed her
mizzen-topsail, with the evident intention of sending a boat.
My dreams of reaching England with the pinnace were doomed to be
rudely shattered. I could think of no satisfactory plan to evade
capture. If I hid below, it was unlikely that the Spaniard would be
content with an informal search, and being discovered would add to my
troubles. Neither could I hope to pass for a Frenchman, or, in fact,
anybody but an English lad.
The Spaniards' longboat was hoisted out, and two officers and half a
score of seamen tumbled into her. With the exception of the officers,
who wore rapiers and pistols, the boat's crew were unarmed. The
blades of the oars fell into the water with alacrity, and quickly the
boat headed towards the _Damsel of Lyme_.
When within a short distance of the pinnace, one of the officers
stood up and hailed me, but, being ignorant of the language, I could
only shake my head.
Thereupon he tried again, apparently in another tongue, and meeting
with the same result, tried yet again, this time in fair English:
"What ship is that?"
"The _Damsel of Lyme_, armed trader."
"Then throw me a rope."
I heaved with more vigour than precision, for the coil flew straight
at his head. Only by raising his arm was the officer able to avoid a
blow on the head, and even then his velvet cap fell from his
closely-cropped hair.
He muttered angrily in his beard, and disdainfully threw the rope to
the bowman, who quickly brought the boat alongside. The crew, led by
the officers, swarmed over the side, and the _Damsel of Lyme_ was in
the possession of the hated Spaniards.
"Where is the Captain?" demanded the officer who had before spoken to
me.
He was a man of about fifty years of age, tall and slender, with a
bronzed face, narrow, beady eyes, and, as I mentioned before, short
black hair and pointed beard. His olive complexion was rendered still
more swarthy by constant exposure to the salt breezes and the glare
of the sun, but I noticed that his hands were long and thin, the
well-cared-for fingers being heavily jewelled.
Knowing it was of no use to mince matters, I told him of our
encounter with one of the ships of the Hispaniola Fleet, and how
Captain Cleat had met his end.
"This, then, is not a ship belonging to the heretic Queen of England?
Where are the ship's papers?"
I could not enlighten the haughty officer concerning the second
question. The first I preferred to ignore. Thereupon he gave orders
to the boat's crew, who immediately went below to search the vessel.
The two officers remained on deck, the one questioning me closely,
while the other smiled complacently, and stroked his beard as his
companion translated my replies.
"What is your name, you piratical young dog?" he asked, after a
while.
I told him.
"Roy? Are you, perchance, a relative of one Richard Roy, aforetime
pilot to His Most Gracious Majesty King Philip?"
"He was my father, sir," I replied eagerly. "Why do you ask? Is he
still alive? Do you know where he is?" and a string of similar
questions delivered with the impatience of youth, and with the
keenness for information respecting my long-lost parent.
To all this my questioner seemed absolutely indifferent, and with an
exasperating languidness entered into conversation with his
fellow-officer, though at times they gesticulated with their hands,
after the manner of the people of southern climes.
Presently one of the seamen returned, and made a voluble report,
while in a few moments he was joined by another, who bore a
bejewelled crucifix that Captain Cleat had taken from a Spanish
vessel many years ago, and had kept on board in an iron-bound trunk.
Both officers had crossed themselves at the sight of this silent
witness to rank piracy, and, after giving several orders, the one who
had spoken with me got into the longboat.
Thereupon two of the sailors motioned me to follow. Since my arms
were not bound nor any attempt at ill-usage had been made, I began to
feel more at ease, though I knew full well that I was a prisoner, and
a member of the crew of a pirate to boot.
As the boat pushed off I could see that the Spaniards who had been
left on board the pinnace were hard at work cutting away the
wreckage, so that it was evident that they meant to stand by the
prize, and not remove the booty and scuttle her. No doubt they had
found out that the _Damsel of Lyme_ was thoroughly seaworthy as far
as her hull was concerned, and that she was built on good lines for
swift sailing. Properly handled, she would prove a valuable asset to
any fleet.
As I looked back at her, I felt that another chapter of my life had
come to a close. It had not been a pleasant one, 'tis true, but it
might well have been worse. I was now face to face with captivity in
the hands of the hated Spaniards.
Many and fearsome were the stories I had heard of their cruelty to
heretics, and as I turned and gazed at the vast bulk of the galleon I
prayed for strength to bear my tribulations with the fortitude of a
true-born Englishman.
CHAPTER IX.
DON IAGO D'ALVAREZ.
THE galleon was at least four times the length of the _Damsel of
Lyme_, and carried two tiers of guns, with additional ordnance under
her poop. Even at her waist she was full twenty feet above her
waterline, while fore and aft she towered to almost twice that
height.
She was painted black, with two broad yellow bands, while her stern
was finished off with two wide galleries richly gilded. She had three
masts, with a short one at her bowsprit, each of which carried a
circular top, whence bowmen and arquebusiers could seriously annoy an
enemy at close range.
Over her taffrail, which was fitted with three enormous lanterns with
elaborately decorated ironwork, floated the red and gold flag of
Aragon and Castile, with its embellishments too numerous to describe.
As the boat swept past her stern, I read the name _San Josef_.
Directly we came over the side my captor had me led to the
quarter-deck, where stood the Captain, a man even more haughty in
manner and dignified in appearance than the officer who had me in his
charge.
It was a lengthy report that the latter made, but when he had
finished, the Captain gravely inclined his head without saying a
word.
"Boy, you are to be my prisoner," announced his subordinate. "Yet,
'tis in your hands to decide what your treatment shall be. Give us no
trouble, and answer me well and truly, and 'twill go easy with you.
Now go forward and get food and drink. Yon seaman will provide you in
that way. Then see to it that you are well washed, and don clean
apparel. This done, you will be brought to my cabin, for I have much
to say to you."
With that I was led away, wondering mightily at the condescension of
my captor, and more concerning his knowledge of my father.
It was about high noon when, having carried out my instructions, I
was taken aft. As I passed along the upper deck I could see that the
_San Josef_ had resumed her course, and was steering approximately
due east.
Something compelled me to walk to the leeside, and though the seaman
who accompanied me followed close at my heels, he made no effort to
prevent me. I was not mistaken. Wallowing half a cable's length
astern was the _Damsel of Lyme_, towed by a huge hempen hawser, while
the men who had been left on board were still busily engaged in
rigging a jury mast. I could not help wondering whether they had
discovered my secret hoard of gold, or whether the limbers of the
pinnace still guarded my easily gotten wealth.
A smart touch upon my shoulder recalled me to my position. My
guardian pointed significantly towards the companion-ladder, and,
descending a semicircular flight of steps, I gained the maindeck.
Here the space seemed immense, for I could actually stand upright
under the deck-beams, while betwixt the rows of ordnance there was a
clear space of full ten paces. The galleon was a veritable floating
castle.
Still aft we went till the sailor stopped short before a door over
which was a plate of brass engraved with the words _Tiente Po_, which
I afterwards learnt signified First Lieutenant. Here he knocked, and,
on being answered, carefully opened the door and beckoned me to
enter.
I found myself in a spacious cabin, well lighted by the windows in
the stern gallery. The place was splendidly furnished, the table and
chairs being of walnut. Rich hangings covered the walls, while on the
floor a thick green and gold carpet deadened every sound of one's
feet. Through the windows I caught sight of the _Damsel of Lyme_
still yawing as she laboured through the green rollers in tow of the
huge galleon.
Seated at the head of the table, and idly toying with a massive
silver goblet, was the officer who had brought me from the pinnace.
Without speaking, he motioned me to stand at the foot of the table.
This I did, and he remained for some moments looking fixedly at me
with his small, sharp eyes, till I began to feel ill at ease.
"Well, Señor Ralph," he began at length, "I trust you will, for your
own sake, answer me fully and truly. Has your father ever said aught
to you concerning one Don Iago d'Alvarez?"
"Nay, sir," I replied, which was the truth, since my father had said
little to me relating to his adventure, which I have heretofore
mentioned.
"Art quite certain? Then I am Don Iago d'Alvarez, and a friend of
your father. Now, has he ever said aught about a certain mine in New
Spain?"
"Ay," I replied. "But of that very little."
"'Tis well. Now listen. Many years ago he and I discovered a rich
mine. Unfortunately, we were--shall I say--separated? Consequently
the locality of the mine remains a secret. Now, if I give you safe
conduct through France to your home, will you lay hands on a certain
chart, somewhat like this one, and bring it to me? That done, I swear
by my patron saint that you will be set free, and, moreover, a fair
portion of the proceeds of the mine will be yours."
"Before I answer, Don Iago, where is my father? Is he still alive?"
For a half instant the Spaniard's brows contracted.
"He is; but, you may regret to hear, he is--shall I say--detained?
To put it briefly, he is a prisoner. Yet he is my comrade. Years ago
we swore everlasting friendship; that friendship still exists. Now,
if you can lay your hands on the chart, the profits of the mine will
go partly towards the payment of your father's fine and partly to me,
while both parties will, I know, contribute towards the share that
you will have well and truly earned.
"Now consider; the time is short. Ere tomorrow morning we shall reach
Vigo, make over the prize, and put to sea again. If you have not then
decided, there will be no other course open than to hand you over to
the Governor of the town as a pirate. Agree to my terms, and you will
be shipped to Bordeaux or Nantes, whence you can travel overland to
Le Havre, and so to England."
There was something about d'Alvarez's manner that caused me to
hesitate. In spite of his professions of friendship, there was a
veiled menace in his speech.
"I'll go right willingly," I replied, "provided that I first see my
father and obtain his permission."
Again Don Iago contracted his brows, then, discarding his haughty
calmness, he exclaimed impatiently:
"That is impossible. Your father cannot be seen by anybody save the
officers of Government and the members of the Holy Office."
"Then how am I to know whether he is alive; and what pledge have I
that, should the plan be found and the mine rediscovered, my father
will obtain his release?"
"You have the word of one of the hidalgos of Spain," he replied
grandiloquently. "Let that suffice."
"'Twill not suffice for me," I rejoined with English bluntness.
"Until I see my parent and obtain his free and full permission to do
what you ask, the matter must remain as it is."
"Consider, my boy!" he exclaimed angrily.
"I have considered," I replied shortly.
"You refuse?"
"I do."
"Then on your head be the consequences. Your fate as a pirate will be
sure and swift; as a heretic 'twill be none the less sure, but
long-drawn, since 'tis not the custom of the Holy Office to send
heretics to the stake without first inflicting pain upon their bodies
to purge their stubborn souls. Now choose quickly; my terms or the
tender mercies of the Inquisition."
'Twould be vain to pretend that I was aught but horribly frightened.
To fall into the hands of the Inquisition was ever regarded as the
most awful fate that could befall a hapless prisoner, and the
memories of the cruelties inflicted upon free-born Englishmen during
the last reign still rankled in the hearts of my fellow-countrymen.
Therefore it was not surprising that I tried to temporise.
"'Tis a strange way to show your friendship for my father, Don Iago.
I pray you, think more of the matter. Without the plan all hope of
finding the mine is, I take it, lost. With both my father and me kept
prisoners you will not gain anything. All that I ask is to see my
father and obtain his permission."
"By my head!" he exclaimed in a passion. "Am I to be talked to thus
by a mere boy? Terms, forsooth! 'Tis I who hold the stakes. Your doom
is sealed, young fool!"
Before I had time to say or do more he clapped his hands, and
immediately two soldiers entered the cabin.
Don Iago snapped his fingers and thumb expressively, the men stepped
beside me, and laid their hands heavily upon my shoulder. I glanced
at the Spaniard. He had resumed his seat, and was again toying with
the goblet, as if unmindful of my presence. Thinking it useless to
say more, I preserved silence, and, unresistingly, was led from the
cabin.
Down in the bowels of the great ship I was taken, till forward in the
gloom of the orlop deck I was thrust into a small prison-like den,
lighted only by a horn lantern swinging from the low deck-beam.
Here, with the dexterity acquired by long practice, the soldiers
clapped me in bilboes, so that I could scarce move a yard in any
direction. Then, having made sure that the padlock was properly
secured, they left a pannikin of water and a crust of rye-bread by my
side, removed the lantern, and left me.
I heard the oaken door creak on its hinges and the dismal sound of
the rusty bolts being shot. Then, in utter darkness, I lay a helpless
prisoner. 'Twas my first taste of captivity in the cruel clutch of
Spain.
CHAPTER X.
ABOARD THE _SAN JOSEF_.
FOR a long while I lay motionless, too much overwhelmed with the
horror of my position even to think. The darkness was so intense that
it actually seemed to have weight. It pressed, as it were, upon my
eyes as I strove to discern my surroundings.
To add to my discomfort, the peculiar motion of my prison, totally
different to the heave of the deck that I was so accustomed to, told
upon me. The jerky swaying caused my manacles to chafe my wrists and
ankles, while the chains rattled dismally with every roll of the
ship.
Not so very far beneath the rough flooring the noxious bilge-water
surged incessantly, while through a seam in the stout planking a thin
stream of water trickled, to join the confined liquid in the hold.
Ever and anon came the thud of a wave as the galleon lifted her bluff
bows to the billow, while the timbers groaned and creaked
complainingly at the tremendous hammering of the angry sea.
At length I bestirred myself, and began to grope as far as my fetters
would allow. The men had left me half lying, half sitting, upon a
massive timber or rib, to which my chains were fixed. This rib was
about eight inches in width and the same in thickness, curving
abruptly in an upright direction just beyond the part on which I lay.
By placing my hand downwards I could touch the moist and slimy
planking, betwixt which and the floor was a gap of nearly a palm's
breadth, through which every abnormal heave of the ship caused the
bilge-water to sluice upwards and over the floor.
Still groping, I found my hands come in contact with the
after-bulkhead. 'Twas so solid that by knocking upon it only a very
slight sound was produced. The other bulkhead was equally thick,
while my scope of chain was insufficient for me to try the door.
Then I tried my fetters. They fitted so closely that there was
certainly no possibility of being able to slip them off, while, being
without a file, I could not sever the links. Otherwise I believe I
would have freed myself, waited till the door was unbarred, made a
dash on deck, and thrown myself into the sea.
But calmer counsels prevailed. I resolved to bear my troubles
manfully, but to let slip no opportunity whereby I could effect my
escape.
Presently I began to get hungry, and, remembering that the soldiers
had placed bread and water on the floor close to the timbers on which
I was sitting, I felt cautiously till my fingers came in contact with
the bread.
Instead of the hard crust the bread was soft and clammy. The
bilge-water had spoilt it utterly. Even as I grasped the food I felt
something glide over my hand. It required no one to tell me that the
intruder was a rat.
Quickly withdrawing my hand, my elbow struck the pannikin, and ere I
could prevent it the whole of the water was spilt with the exception
of, perhaps, half a gill. This I drank, so as to make sure of it, and
my thirst being somewhat assuaged, I felt better. Ever and again I
would shake my fetters violently for the purpose of scaring off the
rats, for, attracted by the ryebread, others had joined the first,
and were scampering all over the place.
As the time slowly sped the rats grew bolder, and even the most
violent rattling failed to keep them off. They even jumped over me,
and more than once I was badly bitten by their sharp teeth, till I
began to be afraid that ere long my strength would give out, and,
from sheer exhaustion, I would fall a prey to the loathsome
creatures.
Suddenly there was a cessation to the rats' attentions, and I was
left alone. Then it was that I became aware that the wind and sea
were increasing, for the galleon heeled and floundered till I was
well-nigh thrown from my precarious perch. Moreover, the bilge-water
began to increase in volume, and although for some time I comforted
myself with the thought that 'twas owing to the increased list of the
ship, I was at length bound to come to the conclusion that the
galleon was leaking badly and the water was slowly and surely
gaining.
Above the now frequent buffeting of the waves against the planking I
could distinguish the clank of the pumps and the subdued sounds of
the men rushing hither and thither on deck.
More and more sluggish became the motion of the _San Josef_, till in
my feverish brain I imagined that the huge vessel was already
plunging to her ocean grave. Then she heeled till the floor seemed
nearly vertical, and the bilge-water surged and frothed furiously
through the aperture betwixt the planking and the stringers.
'Twas then that I gave myself up for lost, yet the sense of
self-preservation was not lacking. I tore at my chains till the
leg-irons cut into my ankles and the manacles lacerated my wrists;
yet I felt no pain, though my injuries were severe. My body was
numbed, but my anguished mind was fully alive to the gravity of my
condition.
It seemed hours ere the galleon recovered her normal heel, and even
then, in the darkness, I felt none too sure of it. But in a measure I
was reassured. The _San Josef_ still remained afloat.
Still, the disquieting knowledge came home to me that the vessel was
leaking badly. Already, during the intervals of the galleon's
recovery, the water lay a foot deep over the floor of my prison,
while, as she heeled to the blast, the depth increased till, sitting
upright on the rib, I was submerged up to my waist.
Then it was that I raved and shouted, but in vain. Even had my
captors been inclined to show pity, the roar of the elements and the
thick walls of my prison effectually deadened every sound. Presently,
numbed with the cold and terrified into a state bordering on madness,
I fell into a kind of stupor.
Of how long I continued thus I have not the faintest recollection,
but after awhile I was compelled to stand as upright as the height of
the deck beams would permit to prevent the water washing over my
face. Bracing myself as firmly as possible, I strove to keep my feet,
the strain upon my manacles serving to steady me, save when a heavy
roll threatened to pitch me into the deepest part of the accumulated
bilge-water.
Hope seemed dead, for I felt that I would be unable to withstand the
strain for long. Already I imagined myself sliding inertly into the
water that was fast filling my pitch-dark prison.
Soon the sickening list to starboard gave place to a succession of
short, steep pitches, while the _San Josef_ seemed to be sailing more
upon an even keel. She had, without doubt, altered her course, and
was running over shallow water before a heavy sea.
Then, without warning, came a dull, grinding crash, and I was thrown
violently sideways till brought up by my fetters. With the shock the
bilge-water surged forward with such irresistible force that some of
the oaken planks of my prison were wrenched from their fastenings.
Like a foaming torrent the flood continued till, standing with my
head and shoulders 'gainst the deck overhead, it reached above my
chin.
Almost as suddenly the water subsided, the motion of the vessel
became comparatively easy, and I heard the hempen hawser rush through
the hawsepipe.
The _San Josef_ had gained a harbour of refuge and had anchored in
sheltered waters. This knowledge, even though it might be but a brief
respite to my miseries, was comforting, and, overcome by the sudden
change, I fell senseless across the oaken timber to which I was
fettered.
When I opened my eyes I was at first unable to think where I was or
what had happened. After a while I found myself lying on the
quarter-deck with my head supported by a coil of rope. My doublet had
been opened, and my chest and forehead had been sprinkled with
vinegar.
The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky; the galleon had
taken in her canvas and now rode head to wind. Lying on my back I
could see the truck of her tapering main t'gallant describing a
swinging motion across the sky as the ship rolled slightly to the
ground-swell within the harbour.
Then my upward vision was interrupted by a man bending over me, and
in an instant I recognised Don Iago d'Alvarez. There was a strange,
almost indescribable, look in his eyes. 'Twas as if he feigned
compassion, though he meant it not. Behind the mask of kindness
lurked implacable cruelty; avarice prompted him to adopt the guise of
benevolence.
For a few moments he stood regarding me, then, speaking to some of
the seamen, he indicated a part of the deck where the mainmast threw
a deep shadow athwart the glistening snow-white planks.
Thither I was taken, and a tankard of wine poured down my throat,
while a chirurgeon placed some bandages round my chafed and bleeding
wrists and ankles. These attentions eased both my body and mind, and,
greatly comforted, I lay still, watching the seamen attend to their
duties.
My field of vision was restricted to a portion of the quarter-deck,
the poop, and the main and mizzen masts. The tall bulwarks hid the
view of the land, so that I could not see what manner of place it
was. 'Twas certain that the harbour was nearly landlocked, for though
the breeze whistled through the rigging aloft, the huge galleon
hardly responded to the combined pressure of the wind and the
ground-swell.
Evidently the _San Josef_ had been sorely damaged in the gale. The
men were handing down the maintopsail, which was rent from the
gore-cloth to one of the clews. The running gear had suffered
considerably, while a portion of the larboard bulwarks had been swept
away. This had caused some of the ordnance to break loose, for there
were two falcons and a long brass saker lying overturned 'gainst the
starboard poop-ladder. The pumps, too, were working incessantly,
showing that the leaks had jeopardised the galleon.
Then my thoughts turned towards the _Damsel of Lyme_. I wondered
whether she had been safely towed into port, or whether, in the
height of the gale, her captors had been compelled to cast her
adrift. Once or twice I attempted to struggle to my feet and look
over the bulwarks to see if the pinnace had also gained the harbour,
but the effort was beyond me. Each time the chirurgeon hastened to my
side, giving me far more attention than a prisoner, and a pirate to
boot, ought to expect.
This puzzled me greatly. The sudden change from mental and bodily
torture to careful consideration seemed so unreal that my misgivings
increased.
Presently four seamen approached, and, lifting me in their arms,
carried me to the gangway. Here a shore boat was lying alongside, and
into it I was placed. Without delay the boat pushed off and rowed
rapidly towards the shore.
Now I could see about me. On all sides save the harbour entrance the
land rose abruptly from the waters of the harbour. Ahead clustered
the houses of a town of considerable size, the place being strongly
walled and protected with several forts. Two castles also guarded the
mouth of the harbour. Several vessels of all sizes were lying at
anchor, and I looked in vain for the graceful outlines of the _Damsel
of Lyme_.
Smartly the boat was run alongside a stone quay fronting the
water-gate. The latter was so narrow that scarcely three men could
enter abreast, while a horseman would have to stoop to pass under the
pointed arch. Above the gateway was a coat-of-arms carved in the
white stone, while yet higher were three rows of narrow slits for
musketeers and bowmen.
Awaiting us on the quay was the captain of the guard and a file of
pikemen, all accoutred with breast and back pieces, steel morions,
long swords, and, in the case of the men, pikes nearly twenty feet in
length. The officer had, in addition to a long glistening rapier of
exquisite steel, a dagger slung at his right hip from a richly
embroidered belt.
The boat was immediately challenged, but, on the coxswain producing a
letter, the guard fell back and allowed us to pass. I could not
repress a shudder as I was led beneath the frowning battlements. But,
to my surprise, it was not a prison or a castle to which my guards
brought me. We passed along a steep, narrow street, flanked by low
stone houses, either flat topped or roofed with brown-red tiles. The
absence of timber in the walls gave the town a totally different
aspect to the houses at home, while the white stonework almost
dazzled me.
Well-nigh choked with the dust that whirled in dense clouds through
the streets, the sailors held on their way, surrounded by a throng of
townsfolk--men, women, and children--all eager to see the English lad
who had been taken by the great galleon. Here and there stalwart
soldiers, bronzed with campaigning in New Spain, would pass some
jesting remark to my guards, who would as readily reply, and raise a
peal of merriment from the onlookers. What they said I knew not,
though by their gestures 'twas evident that I figured as the object
of their jests.
Since I was still in charge of the seamen and had not been handed
over to the military guard, I began to think that, after all, my
destination was not to be the gloomy dungeons of the castle. In a way
I was right, for after traversing the crowded market-square and
another long street, my captors halted before a large stone villa,
standing in extensive grounds enclosed by high stone walls.
The gate was opened by an old manservant wearing a livery of black
velvet, and, led by him, we passed through an orange grove to the
house.
Here I was placed in a small room, evidently a kind of study, for
quaint maps hung on the walls, a huge globe stood in one corner,
while several leather-bound books were ranged on shelves. On the
table were drawing instruments, an astrolabe, and a mariner's
compass.
Without a word or a sign my captors left me, locking the door as they
did so.
Left to myself, I made a tour of the room to see if there was any
possibility of escape.
There were three windows to the room, each filled with stained glass.
The first opened without difficulty, but I found that 'twas placed in
a deep recess, the walls being quite two feet in thickness, while at
the other end a strong iron grille prevented any egress by this way.
It was the same with the other windows. Nothing but a strong file
would have enabled me to break out of my place of detention.
Nevertheless, I had an uninterrupted view on three different sides.
The room was apparently one of the lower storeys of a tower forming
an angle of the house. To the eastward I could see over a thick
forest of olives to a range of blue hills that stood out clearly
'gainst a cloudless sky. Southward lay a portion of the town, a maze
of red and white stonework, while westward another part of the town
sloped steeply towards the harbour. Far beyond the castle-guarded
entrance I could see the horizon, dotted with the sails of a large
fleet.
Then I turned my attention to the maps, thinking they might give me
some idea of the surrounding country. Most of them were Spanish, and
unintelligible to me, both as to locality and the names written
thereon; but presently I found a chart of Southampton Water, drawn by
one Duns Vincent at the sign of the Antelope at Cheapside. Across it
were several notes written in Spanish, while, to my surprise, I read
in the bottom left-hand corner the words, "Ric: Roy, his Mappe. A.D.
1552."
It was my father's chart. How, then, could it have been brought
hither?
Beneath it were others of English draughtsmanship, mostly at various
portions of the Channel, the approaches to the Thames, and the Essex
coast. On every one were marginal notes in Spanish, with
unintelligible markings at various points.
Then I turned my attention to the table. Thinking some of the
instruments might serve me to some useful purpose at no distant date,
I selected a long steel pair of compasses with two fine points. These
I was about to conceal in my hose when a voice exclaimed:
"That will not serve, rascal!"
Turning suddenly, I found myself confronted by Don Iago d'Alvarez.
CHAPTER XI.
THE INQUISITION.
UNOBSERVED, the Spaniard had turned the well-oiled lock and silently
gained the room. How long he had been there I knew not, but, caught
fairly in the act of attempted concealment, I could only look at him
in blank dismay.
"Ah, Señor Ralph!" he remarked at length, "'tis a sad failing with
lads. They are always prying into other people's business, and
helping themselves to anything that meets their eye."
"Since some of the charts are my father's," I retorted, "'tis meet
and proper that his son should be allowed to examine them."
Don Iago's face betrayed no surprise at my reply.
"These charts seem to interest you as much as others interest me. To
come to the point: You are now in my house, a fact that proves to you
that I am able to control your immediate future. You have had a
foretaste of what may happen if you obstinately refuse to accept my
conditions."
"I refuse to accept your word," I replied. "How can you place
reliance on my promise to return with the chart when once I am safe
at home?"
"To be blunt with you, your father will be a hostage for your safe
return. He knows the position of the mine without having to make use
of the plan, but, like you, he is obstinate."
"Then I, too, will be obstinate," I rejoined doggedly.
"My lad," said d'Alvarez softly, "I am sorry for you. There is no
alternative but to hand you over to the Holy Office. More, you will
be employed to compel your mulish sire to disgorge the secret. 'Tis a
last resource, but 'twill not fail."
For a few moments he eyed me keenly, as if to detect any sign of
wavering, but I maintained a resolute silence.
Seating himself at the table, Don Iago leisurely took pen and paper,
wrote a few lines and sprinkled them with sand.
"Here is the order delivering your body and your soul to the
jurisdiction of the Holy Inquisition," quoth he. "Yet, 'tis not too
late to change your mind."
"Nay," I replied. "My conditions are simple enow. I ask but to see my
father, obtain his free consent, and your desire will be gratified.
Otherwise, I refuse, and you can do your worst."
"By the Virgin!" he exclaimed vehemently, "you shall see your father,
but not in the way you wish."
Thereupon he folded and sealed the missive and rang a bell. The
summons was answered by two powerful-looking men dressed in the same
sombre livery as the servant who had admitted me into the house.
Seizing me by the shoulders they marched me forth into the courtyard,
where a file of pikemen stood waiting as if anticipating the use of
their services. My arms were secured behind my back, and, surrounded
by the soldiers, I was marched down the street towards the harbour.
Having traversed the marketplace, the pikemen, instead of taking the
road that led to the water-gate, turned off to the left and skirted
the water front of the town for a considerable distance.
At length I saw before me a formidable-looking fortress, which I
rightly guessed to be the prison wherein heretics and other offenders
'gainst the Popish faith were confined.
It consisted of a lofty eight-sided keep, surrounded by a high
embattled "curtain," without which was a double moat crossed by
drawbridges, each of which was defended by a barbican. The outer moat
appeared to be tidal, but the inner one was filled with stagnant
water.
At the outer gateway we were met by an officer and a guard of
fully-armed soldiers. The order for the delivery of my body was
presented and duly signed, and the pikemen handed me over to the care
of half a score of arquebusiers.
By them I was taken across the first drawbridge and placed in a low
stone chamber with a heavily-groined roof.
{Illustration: "MY JAILERS HALTED BEFORE A SMALL OAKEN DOOR." [p.
124.}
Here four stalwart men, clad in leathern jerkins, seized hold of me.
In a few moments I was stripped to the skin, while to prevent the
possible concealment of a weapon or tool of any sort they ran their
fingers through my hair and even forced open my mouth.
Having satisfied themselves on this point, they made me don a loose
garment not unlike a friar's gown, and fastened fetters to my wrists.
The end of a rope was placed round my neck, one of my jailers holding
the other end, and in this manner I was marched across the inner
drawbridge into the castle itself.
Within all seemed ominously quiet. Here and there were a few monks
with clasped hands and downcast eyes, as if unaware of their
surroundings, some austere-looking priests, and several brawny men
clad similarly to my new custodians.
Passing through the triple gateway of the principal tower, I bade
farewell to the open air and the direct sunlight for many a long day.
Through a sombre passage I was led slowly and silently, as if the
dignified progress were calculated to fill me with awe and terror.
Presently my jailers came to a halt before a small oaken door studded
with nails. It was so low that it was necessary to descend three more
steps ere a man could pass beneath the flattened arch.
Back swung a heavy door, disclosing a stone-vaulted passage, from
which a dank, unwholesome odour emanated. Taking a torch from an iron
rack, one of the men lit it and preceded me the others following
almost on my heels, after the hindermost man had kindled another
torch and carefully relocked the door.
I counted twoscore paces ere the men halted before one of the double
row of iron-bound doors that flanked the passage. Over it was the
number nineteen, and so long as I remained in the prison I was to be
known by that number.
Within the cell, which was barely seven feet by five, the furniture
consisted merely of a wooden bench at a height of about two feet from
the ground, an earthenware basin and platter, a small bundle of
straw, and a coverlet of sackcloth.
One of the thick stone walls was pierced by a small aperture that
admitted both light and air--though there was little indeed of the
former, for my hasty look around was possible only by the flicker of
the torches.
It was a prison wherein a miserable captive had not the remotest
chance of escape, but even this did not satisfy my jailers; they must
needs fasten a chain round my left ankle ere casting loose the
fetters that bound my arms.
Then, having filled my pitcher with water and placed a small brown
loaf upon the platter, they left me to my own resources.
I waited till the last sound of their departing footsteps died away,
and then mounted upon the bench and raised myself to the aperture.
This I accomplished with difficulty, for although the length of the
chain permitted me to move thus far, I had to raise its weight in
addition to my own.
Owing to the thickness of the walls and the narrowness of the opening
in the stonework my range of vision was greatly restricted, but I
made the discovery that my cell was partly below the surface of the
water in the inner moat. A rise of a foot in its level would flood
the prison.
On the farther side of the moat a wall rose sheer to a height of
quite twenty feet, the masonry being so smooth that even a rat could
not obtain a foothold, while on the summit a musketeer was slowly
pacing to and fro.
Eager to learn whether the adjoining cells were tenanted, I dropped
back to the floor and knocked upon one of the intervening walls with
my platter, putting my ear to the stonework to catch the faintest
sound of a reply to my signal. But 'twas in vain; it was the silence
of the tomb.
Then I tried the opposite wall, but my ear detected the sound of a
most dismal groaning that I was glad to abandon my efforts in that
direction. Evidently my neighbour had been the victim of excruciating
torture, and had been carried back to die--or to survive solely for
the purpose of being put to the rack again.
By degrees my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and ere nightfall I
could discern objects in the cell with as much ease as I had in the
torchlight. Strangely enough it was not the fear of what was going to
happen that troubled me; it was the deadly monotony that threatened
to reduce me to the lowest depths of despair.
Then day after day went by till I lost all count of time. Save for
the regular visits of my jailers when they came to supply me with
food and water, and an occasional glimpse of the sentry on the wall
of the moat, I saw the face of no human being.
After many days I began to realise that my strength was failing me.
This I knew to be due mostly to my meagre fare, but 'twas also owing
to a lack of exercise. Over the former I had no control, but
hereafter I made it part of my daily business to work my arms and
legs till the muscles once more began to resume their wonted strength
and suppleness.
At length--it must have been some months after the _San Josef_
brought me into harbour--I was startled by the entry of a number of
men, whose heads were hidden under long, black, cone-shaped hoods,
with holes for their eyes and mouths. They were the "familiars" of
the Holy Inquisition.
They filed in silently till the little cell was filled to
overflowing. Without speaking a word, they seized me and stripped my
cloak-like garment from my shoulders till it served only as a
loin-cloth. Into the dismal stone passage I was thrust, then,
preceded and followed by the "familiars," was made to traverse a
portion of the tunnel-like shaft till further progress was stopped by
a blank wall.
Stooping down, one of the men raised a circular slab disclosing a
spiral staircase. Descending, I found myself in another passage even
more foetid than the other, for the walls were green with slime, and
moisture trickled 'twixt every joint in the masonry, causing the
torches to splutter and give forth thick smoke continually.
Presently the procession stopped abreast of a deep recess. Here,
covered with a sheet, lay a man, so grievously mishandled that his
groans were terrible to listen to.
Some of the "familiars" seized the litter on which he lay and bore it
joltingly along the passage I had traversed; whilst the others, now
numbering but four, compelled me to resume my way.
{Illustration: "FOUR MASKED AND HOODED FAMILIARS ENTERED." [p.138.}
At the end of the subterranean gallery its whole width and height
were taken up by a double door. This could be opened only from the
remote side, and in reply to a thunderous knock--to enable those
within to hear, so thick was the timber--the door was flung back.
For an instant I was almost blinded by the sudden glare, and ere I
had time to take in the scene I was pushed forward into a large room
and the doors fastened behind me.
The place was nearly a score paces in length, and almost the same in
breadth. The walls, floor, and ceiling were of stone, the latter
being heavily groined, with a double row of massive rounded pillars
to bear the weight of the roof. At one end of the central aisle, if I
may term it so, was a raised daïs hung with crimson cloth, above
which was a large crucifix.
Seated on the daïs were three men clad in crimson gowns and wearing
masks. These were the Chief Inquisitor and his two assistants.
In front and slightly below the daïs was a long table, covered with
books and bundles of parchment, while two scriveners were waiting to
set down whatever the Inquisitors thought fit to dictate.
Away on the left glowed a brazier of coals, by the side of which a
hooded "familiar" was ostentatiously heating a pair of long-handled
pincers. Hard by stood the rack, with its complication of pulleys and
levers, ready to wring from some unhappy sufferer a confession to a
crime he had never committed.
The only officers of the court who were not masked were two pikemen,
clad in breast and back pieces, and steel caps somewhat resembling
the "pot" of our train-bands.
Standing betwixt two pikemen, with the "familiars" behind me ready to
carry out the behests of their masters, I faced the three
Inquisitors.
With neither undue haste nor unnecessary delay, one of the scriveners
read an indictment in Latin. What it was about I was totally ignorant
of, and for the first time in my existence I regretted having refused
the offer of old Master Ridge, the apothecary, to teach me that
tongue. However, when the reading was completed, the scrivener
translated it in very fair English.
It was formidable enough in all sooth. I was charged with being
concerned in a heinous crime against the Holy Church, to wit, the
theft of a jewelled crucifix identified as having been taken from the
cathedral of Carthagena. Furthermore, I was a heretic. These crimes
brought me within the arm of the Inquisition. As for the charge of
piracy, that had been waived by the Spanish civil courts in order to
let the Holy Office wreak its vengeance upon me.
On the first charge I battled desperately for my life, vehemently
protesting that I knew nothing of the church ornament till a seaman
of the _San Josef_ found it in Captain Cleat's chest.
As to being a heretic, I admitted I was such according to the Popish
tenets, but stoutly maintained that I was a member of a religion
established by the laws of the realm of England.
Whether the scrivener translated all I said I know not, but within
ten minutes my sentence was pronounced.
As a sacrilegist and a heretic I was to be burned at the stake.
Although I had secretly expected it, the actual pronunciation of my
fearful sentence made me reel as if stricken with a club. I turned
faint and dizzy, my knees shook, and but for the support given by the
two soldiers I would have fallen to the ground.
They made no attempt to remove me. As I cowered and trembled the
Inquisitors seemed to be taking an unholy delight in watching my
misery and despair.
Then the Chief Inquisitor spoke. He had a sweet, melodious voice, the
sound of which made me marvel how a man who delighted in inflicting
torture and death could speak in such a tone.
When he had finished, the scrivener who acted as interpreter told me
that for the time being the execution of my sentence would be
deferred or even mitigated. On the earnest supplication of the right
worthy Don Iago d'Alvarez mercy might yet be shown me. If, on the
other hand, I was obstinate and stiff-necked, torture would be
inflicted ere the final punishment took place. In the meantime I was
to be removed and allowed the ministrations of a priest to prepare my
stubborn mind for the fruits of the true Church.
With that I was marched off--not back to my cell, but to another on
the opposite side of the passage.
My jailers kept their torches without, so that at first I could not
discover my limited surroundings, but soon I was aware that the cell
possessed another occupant. A man was crouching on the low wooden
bench, his hunched shoulder denoting complete apathy as to what was
going on. I could see that he was of massive frame, though his flesh
was shrunken till his cheek-bones protruded under his waxen
complexion. A tangle of long dark hair and beard nearly concealed his
features.
Somehow or other my instinct told me that it was none other than my
father, yet I kept silence till the door closed upon us. Then I
called him by name.
Instantly he started, drew his hand across his forehead as if to
collect his wits, then springing to his feet with an alacrity that
seemed surprising, he grasped me by the shoulder.
"Who are you?" he demanded; then looking earnestly into my face he
exclaimed, "Ralph, my son, what evil chance has brought you here?"
For some time after the first few moments of surprise we were deep in
conversation, question and answer following in quick succession; then
he besought me to tell him of the circumstances under which I was
made a prisoner of the Inquisition. We talked in low tones, fearful
lest an unseen listener was lurking to trap us into some diabolical
snare.
When that ended, he told me the whole story of his dealings with Don
Iago d'Alvarez, of the finding of the mine, of the Spaniard's
treachery, and of the loss of the silver in the Rio del Foy. "As for
the chart he seeks, Ralph," continued my father, "it still remains
hidden in our house at Crofton. Without it even I would be unable to
find the spot, and it is certain that I cannot commit the secret of
the mine within my breast."
"But my mother left the house soon after you disappeared," said I.
"Then if we ever escape from this grave danger the plan can easily be
obtained. Something seems to tell me that we may yet be delivered
from these fiendish toils. Were I sure it would be otherwise, Ralph,
I would as lief strangle you with mine own hands and beat my brains
out against this wall, rather than suffer the tortures these
incarnate fiends love to inflict."
"Tell me," I said presently, "what happened on the night you were
called away and did not return?"
"It is a long story, Ralph. Briefly, it was the doing of d'Alvarez
and his crafty companion José da Silva. Knowing where I lived, and
wishing to gain the coveted information--thinking, possibly, that I
kept the chart ever on my person--they obtained an audience with
Philip of Spain and suggested the great importance of securing the
person of an English pilot well acquainted with the Channel. I know
not whether 'tis now common knowledge at home, but ere long--though
it may be years hence--Spain will try her utmost to bring England
once more under her yoke. Here it is well known that a large
fleet--the largest that the world has ever yet seen--will be built
for that purpose, and having use for skilled pilots, the King of
Spain did not hesitate to give his ear to the counsels of d'Alvarez
and his craven friend.
"So when I was called upon that night I went, mistrusting no one, and
on boarding the ship that lay off the haven, 'twas no _Speedie_ of
Brixham, but a swift galeas of Cadiz. I discovered the trap ere their
longboat ran alongside, but 'twas too late. Several of the rogues had
broken pates to remember me thereby, but by weight of numbers they
secured me.
"When the vessel reached Spain I was taken to the Escurial into the
presence of King Philip. I was offered much gold and plenteous
rewards should I take service under him and the expedition prove
successful--though the Dons had few doubts as to the latter.
"'Heretofore I was your Majesty's pilot,' I replied. 'And though
'twas by order of my sovereign, 'twas the worst bit of work I ever
did for my country. Rest assured, sire, that 'twill not occur again.'
"With that I was hastened off to prison, tortured all to no purpose,
for I swore that nothing would make me play the traitor.
"Then it was that d'Alvarez interposed, claimed my person from the
King, and obtained his consent to do with me as he would. Now,
indeed, he has, through you, hit me hard, but as I hope for eternal
salvation, I believe in my heart that you and I will see Old England
again."
"And I, too, will be resolute, hoping for a happy issue out of our
misfortunes," I added.
At length, by the dimming of the light that filtered in through a
narrow grated opening, we knew that evening was drawing nigh. Still
we talked in undertones, happy in our reunion in spite of the
miserable conditions under which we had met.
Suddenly the door of our cell was opened and the four masked and
hooded "familiars" entered. Ghostlike they indicated that I should
accompany them. My father clasped me in his arms to take possibly a
last farewell, but roughly we were separated, and with a long
despairing look I was led forth.
Stripped as before to my waist they brought me to the
torture-chamber; then, having placed me between the two pikemen, the
"familiars" departed.
CHAPTER XII.
IN THE TORTURE-CHAMBER.
ALL this while the three Inquisitors sat on the dais, immovable as if
carved in stone, while I stood trembling, yet striving to be brave.
Presently the "familiars" returned, haling with them my father, who
was scantily attired in much the same manner as I was.
He was placed slightly in advance of me, a pikeman on either side of
us, while the four "familiars," like foul birds of prey, grouped
themselves in the rear, ready to obey the injunctions of their
superiors.
The Chief Inquisitor addressed my sire in Spanish--a language with
which he was well acquainted, though to me 'twas quite unintelligible.
Then ensued a passage of arms betwixt the two, the ecclesiastic calm
and dignified since he held the upper hand, my father alert yet stern
in his manner of reply. Evidently his stubbornness began to wear the
patience of the Inquisitor, for he pointed to the rack once or twice,
then as significantly pointed to me.
Like a flash the meaning of the gesture came home to me. I was to be
tortured in order to wring a confession from my father. For him the
rack had little terrors; his indomitable courage had carried him
through the ordeal beforetimes; but the diabolical design of striking
at him through me was more than he could bear.
Stepping backwards a pace he hissed in my ear, "Hold the door if you
can, Ralph."
Before I could comprehend the meaning of his words the soldiers
seized him by the shoulders.
'Twas their last act upon this earth, for, with a sudden impetuous
heave, my father shook himself clear. His huge, powerful hands
gripped each of the astonished pikemen by the throat, their heads
crashed together with tremendous force, and without so much as a
groan they sank lifeless to the ground.
'Twas done in the twinkling of an eye. Then, with a bound, my father
sprang towards the rack, wrenched one of the levers from its socket,
and threw himself upon the four "familiars."
They were not lacking in courage and strength, and, like dogs baiting
a bear, they set upon my parent.
Over and over they rolled, my father's head and shoulders momentarily
appearing out of the tangle of struggling black forms, while I stood
by, hardly knowing what I was to do, though my father's injunction
rang in my ears.
As the fierce struggle continued, I saw the torturer quit his place
by the brazier and, with a pair of glowing tongs in his hand, creep
stealthily to aid his fellows.
Now was my opportunity to be up and doing. Drawing the sword of one
of the dead pikemen, I struck so shrewd a blow that the dog died
without even a cry; then, turning my attention to the struggling
throng on the stone floor, I sent two of the "familiars" to their
last account.
Well-nigh breathless, my father arose and loosened his grip from the
windpipe of another. The fourth lay with his back broken, groaning
horribly.
"The door!" shouted my father.
I was barely in time. Like a sly fox one of the scriveners had darted
under the dais, crept round the farthermost wall, and made a rush for
the door. Once without, the alarm would have been raised; but e'en as
he fumbled with the bolts my blade pierced his shoulder-blades and he
fell.
Then ensued a terrible pause. Dropping the handspike, my father
stooped and took possession of the second pikeman's sword. Then he
waited to regain his breath, his eyes fixed upon the three
Inquisitors, who sat almost transfixed with terror upon the dais.
They read in his eyes the denial of mercy that they had so often
decreed.
As he advanced, the Chief Inquisitor started to his feet, imploring,
raving, and shouting for the help that was not to be forthcoming, for
the well-nigh sound-proof room now served another purpose.
But I had my work cut out. The remaining scrivener, taking his
courage in his hand, seized a pike and ran at me with the fury of
despair, as I stood before the door.
I guarded the savage pike-thrust only too well, for the keen blade
sank deep into the ash, and with a sudden wrench I found my weapon
torn from my grasp.
The next instant we were at hand grips, the scrivener heavy and
stout, I tall, lithe, and somewhat weakened by the meagre fare. Thus
we were pretty evenly matched, and over and over we rolled, I trying
to grasp his flabby throat, while he strove to thrust his pointed
ink-horn into my eyes.
Thus we grappled for, I should think, a full five minutes, till I
felt his breath come in laboured gasps. Then, with all my force, I
smote him on the temple with my clenched fist, and, kneeling upon his
body, I pressed his throat till he ceased to breathe. 'Twas a fearful
thing to do, but it was a question of life against life.
I rose to my feet and looked around. Two of the Inquisitors had given
up the ghost, but the chief was backing slowly round the chamber, my
father, looking like a veritable avenging fury, thrusting savagely
with his blade, yet forbearing to strike home.
The doomed man was shrieking like a cornered rat, all to no purpose,
while my father, uttering maledictions in English and Spanish,
prolonged the torture that served as the Inquisitor's just
retribution. At length a quick, merciful thrust completed the ghastly
business, and my father spurned the body with his foot.
"Thanks be to Him who has given us the victory!" he exclaimed; then
with the same breath he added, "We're in grievous peril still, Ralph.
We must needs think what had best be done."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE ESCAPE.
AS my father spoke, the gravity of our position came home to both of
us. Here we were, penned up in the torture-chamber in the innermost
recesses of the castle, likely at any moment to be surprised by the
garrison or some of the officers of the Inquisition, while every exit
was strongly guarded with armed troops.
Even should we escape from the precincts of the fortress we knew not
whither to flee. The very name of the town wherein we were was
unknown to us.
For the time being we were safe. We could hold our own 'gainst
tremendous odds in the strongly-walled chamber, but ere long hunger
would compel us to succumb. Therefore it was useless to remain
inactive: we must take steps to find a way out. But how?
"Roy, my son," exclaimed my father, "I have it. 'Tis hazardous, but
there are chances in our favour. We will don the garments of these
slain dogs, and take upon us the role of officers of the Inquisition.
'Tis now night, which is also in our favour."
"And whither? To the mountains?" was my question.
"Nay, lad, the sea--ever the sea. Thereon lies our salvation. Now,
quickly."
Without more ado we stripped the bodies of two of the slain members
of the Holy Office, girded a sword and dagger apiece beneath the
cloaks, and enveloped our heads with the hideous cowls and masks.
"This will not serve," commented my father, as we surveyed each
other. "Is it meet that two officers should thread dark passages
without a link-bearer? Cast off your attire, Roy, and take this garb.
You must be one of the hooded varlets, and bear a torch to light the
way."
In a few moments I was dressed in the garb of a "familiar." We then
prepared to cover our retreat, for should any one without gain easy
entrance, the alarm would be raised ere we could obtain a fair start.
Accordingly we dragged the rack across the floor and placed it at a
pike's length from the door. This required great effort, for the
massive frame could only be moved inch by inch. But 'twas done at
last. We then unbolted and partly opened the door, resting the butt
ends of the pikes 'gainst the lowermost portion of the rack and their
heads 'gainst the door, so that when 'twas shut the pikes would fall
to the ground, forming a wedge that would defy the efforts of half a
dozen strong men.
Then, having taken a torch, we sallied out, walking with measured
tread, and my father inclined his head over a breviary. Yet I wot we
both kept one hand upon the hilts of our daggers, ready to strike a
swift blow should occasion arise.
Unseen we traversed the lowermost passage, ascended the spiral stair,
and gained the upper corridor. At the end I knew was the low doorway
communicating with the courtyard, and the door itself would be
closely locked and bolted.
But as we approached, in fear lest our progress should be hindered, a
dark form glided from a recess that had escaped my notice when I was
brought hither, and a hooded and cloaked servant threw open the door
with obsequious mien.
My father bestowed upon him a blessing--though in his mind I doubt
not that he would rather have given the dog a dagger-thrust--and the
next moment we were under the light of the stars, breathing in the
pure air that had for so many long days been denied us.
But the most difficult part was yet to come. We were clear of the
prison itself, with its pitiless and cruel guardians, but now we must
reckon with the soldiers at the postern and the two barbicans. Should
they demand a password we should be undone.
'Twas folly to hesitate. With outward boldness, though I felt my
heart beating rapidly, I led the way, holding the torch well above my
head, while my father followed three paces in the rear, still
ostentatiously engaged with his breviary.
Now we were within a score paces of the postern, the guards were
preparing to receive us, when a hooded figure advanced and spoke to
my father with much the same tone of servility as his fellow had
done.
With admirable composure my parent replied, imitating the voice of
the Chief Inquisitor to perfection, while I walked slowly backwards
till I stood behind him, so that the flicker of the torch threw his
hooded and masked face into shadow.
After a short conversation my father turned, and, with the "familiar"
slightly behind him, walked in a totally different direction to that
leading to the postern. Whither the pair were going I had not the
slightest idea, whereas, in my capacity of link-bearer, I ought to
have preceded them. Neither dare my father give me directions or any
explanation of the conversation; so, helplessly, I trailed behind the
quasi-Inquisitor and his subordinate.
Our conductor came to a halt before an arch, within which was
apparently a stone wall, though screened from observation from the
courtyard by two flying buttresses connected with a trellis fence of
iron, over which the roses grew in profusion.
What he did I could not see, but a large portion of the masonry swung
round on a pivot, easily and noiselessly, disclosing a yawning
cavity.
While the man was thus engaged my father found an opportunity to bid
me enter fearlessly. This I did, and found myself on the topmost of a
short flight of steps. I descended, my sire following. The next
instant we were alone.
"Providence is with us," quoth he. "This is the secret passage to the
Chapel of San Thomé, and is used by the principals of this accursed
place. Yon rogue, who has served us so well, told me that the second
drawbridge was raised, owing to some mishap."
"Then how can we gain our way from the chapel?"
"Methinks 'tis easier to escape from a chapel than from a castle, my
son. Courage! Did I not say that 'twould end well for us?"
With that we relapsed into silence, walking swiftly through the
subterranean passage, our footsteps echoing and re-echoing along the
invisible tunnel; every moment was precious.
We must have traversed a good four hundred paces when our passage was
barred by a door as strongly constructed as those in the castle.
Cautiously and carefully we examined the door, but no sign of a lock
or bolt was visible on the side on which we stood. It seemed as if we
were fairly trapped. At any moment our flight might be discovered and
the shouts of our pursuers fall upon our ears. Moreover, the torch
was rapidly burning out, and in a few minutes we should be in utter
darkness.
"Stand to your dagger," said my father. "We must take the hazard,"
and as he spoke he knocked loudly and peremptorily upon the oaken
door.
With mingled feelings of doubt and hope we heard the bolts being shot
back; the door was flung open, and we found ourselves in the
dimly-lighted chapel of St. Thomé.
A lay-brother who had opened for us bent low in deep abasement, while
my father, still retaining his marvellous presence of mind, bestowed
a benediction upon him.
Then louting to the altar as he passed--though I knew 'twas greatly
against the grain to do so--he made instinctively towards a similar
portal in the northern wall of the building.
Once more we found ourselves in the open air. We were evidently in a
priory garden. In the closely-cut turf--well kept in spite of the hot
climate--cypress and olive trees were planted, while against one of
the walls a huge vine extended its branches.
Even in our flight we paused to taste of the grapes, and never did
fruit seem sweeter to our parched throats after our strain of mind
and body, following months of miserable captivity. As we ate we
conferred as to the best course to pursue, or, rather, my father
deliberated and gave his opinion, and I unhesitatingly accepted it.
"We must not risk passing through the dormitories or other domestic
buildings," said he. "We dare not tempt fate too much. Methinks
beyond yon wall we'll find a street or lane."
So saying, he climbed a tree growing close to the vine-covered wall,
and clambering along one of its branches, allowed his weight to bend
it till he could with ease drop upon the wide coping of the
stonework.
"'Twas as I said," he whispered. "Haste, follow."
'Twas soon done, and we found ourselves in a narrow lane with houses
of a superior kind facing the long wall we had just scaled.
I had extinguished and dropped the torch ere making the climb, so
keeping well in the deep shadows, we glided rapidly along the narrow
streets in the direction we supposed the harbour to lie.
Once or twice we lay close, as a half-drunken soldier or a belated
townsman passed, but without interruption we came to an alley, at the
end of which we could just distinguish the starlit sea.
"Oh for a vessel of sorts, be it but a cock-boat!" muttered my
father, as we reached the brink of a little quay littered with nets
and other gear pertaining to the fisherman's craft.
Grinding their sides against the piles were several small boats, none
of which contained oars, masts, or sails; but farther out were moored
some ten or fifteen larger craft, evidently sea-going fishing-boats,
some of which had their masts shipped, while others had them lying
across their broad transoms.
Seizing a painter, my father tried it; then swung himself nimbly and
softly into one of the little boats, steadying her alongside while I
joined him.
Then bidding me steer for the nearest craft at anchor, he took hold
of one of the bottom boards and paddled rapidly, grumbling softly
under his breath at the phosphorescent swirl that followed each
stroke of his unwieldy paddle.
Following his instructions, I steered, but on approaching the nearest
vessel my eye caught the outlines of a craft that seemed familiar to
me. I looked again, hoping against hope; but there was no mistaking
the vessel, though her rig had been altered. 'Twas the _Damsel of
Lyme_!
Eagerly I whispered the news of my discovery. My father ceased
paddling, and shaded his eyes as he took stock of the pinnace.
"She is much of a handful," he whispered dubiously.
"But I know her well. She is one of the swiftest boats that ever
sailed upon the sea," I added.
"If that be so," he replied, "lay us alongside as softly as you can."
Within another minute I was treading the familiar deck. My father
dropped silently into the after-cabin and also explored the fo'c'sle
to make sure that no one was aboard. Having satisfied himself on that
point, he turned the cock-boat adrift and proceeded to set sail.
In place of the huge spread of square sails two long, unwieldy yards
lay athwart her deck, their halyards still bent. Her new owners had
converted her rig into that of a felucca, possibly intending to use
her on the Mediterranean, since that form of sail is somewhat rare on
the north-west coasts of Spain and Portugal. Whether her speed would
be thus affected we knew not.
Swiftly, yet deliberately, we set to work to make sail. I was sent
aloft with a leather bucket half full of water, with instructions to
thoroughly douse the blocks lest the squeaking of the tackle would
betray us. Then slowly but surely the foreyard was hoisted, the cable
cut, and with scarce a ripple the pinnace heeled and glided towards
the fort-guarded entrance to the harbour.
It must have been betwixt midnight and the early hours of the morning
that we set sail. Behind us lay the dark outlines of the town, with
ne'er a light visible, backed by the dark, tree-clad hills. Not a
sound was to be heard save the howl of a dog. Otherwise 'twas like a
city of the dead.
But ahead lanterns twinkled on the buttresses of the two castles,
showing that their garrisons kept watch and ward. Even with her dark
brown sails and sombre hull the _Damsel of Lyme_ would run great risk
of discovery as she ran the gauntlet.
My father stood at the tiller, his feet placed wide apart and his
hands lightly grasping the curved wood. His old facility had come
back to him, and already he had gained the feel of the vessel's helm,
while he critically watched the huge sail, ready to order me to tend
the sheets the moment the wind veered as little as half a point.
Satisfied with the speed of the pinnace, we made no attempt to set
the mainsail till clear of the harbour. To do so would require our
united efforts, and with the helm left unattended in that narrow
waterway the consequences would be fatal to our enterprise. So we
held on, praying that our bid for freedom would be successful.
As we swept past the fort on the larboard hand a hoarse voice hailed
us, to which my father promptly replied.
Evidently the reply did not satisfy the vigilant sentinel, for he
hailed again, ordering us (so I was afterwards told) to heave-to
while a boat put off to make the customary examination.
"Lie down, Ralph; their bullets will be singing past us ere long," he
cautioned, and directly afterwards the report of a musket echoed in
the still night, a shot whistling betwixt our masts.
The firing was taken up on both sides of the harbour, bullets
striking the water or passing overhead; though several cut through
our foresail the damage was but slight, and the pinnace still held on
her course.
Then to the bark of the small pieces was added the deep roar of the
heavy ordnance, the weighty missiles singing blithely as they skimmed
above our heads, knocking up showers of spray as they struck the
water.
But already the _Damsel of Lyme_ was slipping away rapidly from the
forts, and their shots began to fall short, though for a long time
afterwards the flashes of the ordnance were plainly visible.
"Blaze away, you Spanish dogs!" shouted my father gleefully. "Ralph,
my boy, we're out of it at last, so yo ho! for Old England."
CHAPTER XIV.
A TIMELY RESCUE.
ERE long the loom of the land was lost to sight in the darkness, and
with a freshening wind the pinnace tore seawards. Should the breeze
hold we feared no danger of pursuit, for the _Damsel of Lyme_ could
show a clean pair of heels to any bluff-bowed Spanish craft, and even
outstrip their swift galleys, for the sea was too high to allow their
oars to be used to advantage.
"Nevertheless, Ralph," quoth my father, "we'll hold westward till
daybreak, so as to get a good offing. If those rascals come after us
they will take it for granted that we are hugging the shore so as to
make the shortest track to England. Now, since you know the ins and
outs of this staunch craft, do you make an examination below deck,
and let me know what water and provisions are aboard. After that you
had better turn in, for by sunrise I'll warrant I can do a sound
sleep."
Taking a lantern, I first explored the great cabin. 'Twas much in the
same state as when Captain Cleat used it, though the rich hangings
and silver vessels had vanished. Evidently the pinnace had been made
ready for a long voyage, for there was wine in plenty, besides
newly-made bread, so that without troubling about the stores in the
hold there would be ample for our sustenance.
Then I bethought myself of the little magazine under the floor.
Setting the lantern down at a safe distance, I whipped off the hatch,
and, lying full length, groped with my hand. The powder had gone, but
the place was nearly chock-full of seemingly long bundles of oiled
canvas. One I pulled out, and, stripping off the wrappings, disclosed
a brand-new arquebus. I tried another, with the same result. The
cuddy contained a veritable armoury.
I next turned my attention to the after-hold. As far as I could make
out by the aid of the lantern, this was also full of munitions of
war, for there were steel headpieces, breast and back plates, pikes,
swords, partisans, and halberds, the metal being carefully coated
with tallow to preserve it from rust.
The forehold, besides containing plenty of provisions in casks, held
quantities of pressed fodder, several ladders, mattocks, shovels, and
other implements for use in siege work, and at least a dozen barrels
that, from being painted red, I concluded contained powder.
Thence I made my way to the forepeak, wherein I had heretofore spent
so many unhappy days and nights, which now, compared with the horrors
of the prison of the Inquisition, seemed easy to be borne.
The place was much the same as before: the stove of sea-coal in the
centre, and a double row of bunks on either side.
Whilst I stood, lantern in hand, a loud snore made me start so that I
nearly dropped the light. Yet I took courage, and looked again.
In one of the bunks lay a soldier, fully accoutred even to his
leathern hip-boots. He was sprawling on his back, his head thrown
back and his mouth wide open; one hand trailed over the side of the
bunk, while on the floor lay his steel helmet and an overturned
leathern jack, from which the liquor had run to leeward owing to the
heel of the ship. He was apparently the ship-keeper, and had been
indulging in a heavy carouse, for his slumber was that of a man deep
in drink.
Hastily I returned, and informed my parent of my discovery.
"Do you take the helm," said he. "I'll have him triced up soon enow.
But stay," he added, "'tis best to make certain of him. I'll lash the
helm, and do you come with me."
Taking up a coil of fine rope and a short iron bar, my father went
for'ard, while I, having set down the lantern, stood by ready to give
assistance should it be required.
But the Spaniard gave no trouble. He was still sleeping heavily.
Without difficulty his legs and arms were securely pinioned, while,
to make doubly sure, we shackled a short length of chain round his
waist, fastening the other end to a pig of iron.
This done, we left him to be astounded, on awakening, at his change
of fortune. In a way 'twas fortunate for him, for had he been
discovered by his captain he would assuredly have been hanged,
whereas we spared him his life.
Worn out with my exertions, I soon fell asleep. It was nearly high
noon when I awoke, for my father, in spite of his fatigue, had
forborne to waken me at daybreak.
"A few hours' slumber will set me right," he replied, when I
reproached him for not rousing me before. "Meanwhile do you keep the
pinnace due north. Methinks we have already made sufficiently to the
westward to shake off pursuit."
Ere I had been two hours at the tiller, the wind, hitherto steady and
true, began to pipe down, till the pinnace barely answered her helm.
Oft the great lateen sails would flap idly, then as a puff struck
them they would draw so quickly that the mast and cordage groaned
under the sudden strain. Again the breeze would head us a little, so
that I frequently had to put the vessel off her course.
This continued for some time, till the sea subsided somewhat, and
thus eased the strain upon the tiller, for with the light breeze and
the tumble of the waves, my arms were aching as I continuously
checked the tendency of the rudder to fly hard over.
Being left more at my ease I happened to glance astern. To my
surprise I saw a vessel barely two miles away on our starboard
quarter and heading straight for us.
Instantly I called to my father, and as promptly he roused and came
running on deck. One look was sufficient.
"'Tis a Spaniard sure enow; and a galley to boot!" he exclaimed. "And
where has the wind gone?"
Just then another stray puff gave us steerage way, and the _Damsel of
Lyme_ heeled gracefully to the welcome draught. But it did not last,
and soon the pinnace was wallowing helplessly in the long, oily
swell.
Being useless at the helm, I assisted my father to load the culverin
and the sakers, putting a heavy stone ball cased in lead in the
former, and a double charge of slag in the latter. Then behind the
rudder head we raised a pair of stout hatches, so as to protect us
from the fire of the arquebuses, which ere long would begin to sing
around our heads, while the loading of a score of wheel-lock pistols
completed our preparations for defence.
"We'll hold out till the last, Ralph," said my father resolutely.
"They must never take us alive. But oh for a good breeze!"
The galley was now within range. Urged by fifty oars she was rapidly
overhauling us, though the breeze had again sprung up sufficiently
for our sails to draw. Ahead a dark patch upon the water denoted a
strong wind, but with remorseless obstinacy the belt of light air
still enveloped us.
Calmly my father sighted the long cannon, directing me with a motion
of his hand to ease the pinnace till the muzzle pointed straight at
the Spanish craft.
With a deafening roar the charge was fired, and we watched the shot
travel straight for the galley. But to our disappointment it passed a
span or so above the poop, though we were not sure that it had not
struck some of the soldiers who were gathered upon the sloping deck.
With the utmost haste another charge was rammed home and fired.
This time the shot pitched fairly upon the bank of oars on the
larboard side, breaking the ash poles like straws. Amid a roar of
rage the galley swung round, till the shipmaster could prevail on the
slaves who manned the starboard bank to desist from rowing.
Ere they could adjust their oars we had gained a good half-mile, but
still the wind held provokingly light.
Then, hand over hand, the galley began to make good her lost ground,
while we prepared to try another shot at our pursuers. But this time
the missile fell short, and, throwing up a tall column of spray,
rebounded well over the oncoming vessel. They were now within musket
range, and instantly gave us a volley.
Crouching behind the improvised mantlet my father held the pinnace on
her course, while I, having little hope yet praying for a fresh wind,
lay flat upon the deck, sheltered by the sheer of our poop.
"Ralph," shouted my father, "stand by. The pinnace carries way. When
they come nigh I mean to down helm and ram the galley amidships. Can
we but hold our own 'gainst those who clamber on our fo'c'sle all may
go well with us."
This plan seemed feasible, for the galley, instead of running
straight under our quarter, was drawing abeam at the distance of a
pistol shot, so that we had sufficient room to swing round and strike
her fairly in the waist.
But my father's resolve was doomed to failure, for an unlucky shot
cut through the sling of our mainyard, and the long, heavy spar came
crashing upon our deck, the folds of the canvas trailing in the sea
on both sides.
A roar of exultation came from the Spaniards; but their joy was
short-lived, for my father loosed the contents of one of the sakers
at them.
The heavy charge, spreading like a fan, well-nigh cleared her
fo'c'sle, and, profiting by this diversion, we drew clear under
foresail alone.
"A breeze!" shouted my father.
Astern the water was being churned into the little white-crested
waves. Down swooped the wind, and before it fled the _Damsel of Lyme_
like a wounded sea-bird.
There was little need to tend the helm. Regardless of the bullets,
that even now began to fall short, we gathered in the trailing canvas
that threatened to check the vessel's way. Meanwhile the galley
sternly continued the pursuit.
Speeding aloft with a coil of rope under his arm, my father prepared
to haul down the main halyard block so as to bend it to the fallen
spar, but while thus engaged I heard him shout, "A sail! Right
ahead!"
Desisting in his work, he gained the deck and came aft.
"Heaven forfend it be a Spanish ship!" he muttered. "She's right in
our course, and a vessel of no mean size."
With a still rising wind we held our own against our pursuers, but
momentarily we were drawing rapidly nearer to the stranger.
She was a barque of about 200 tons, yellow hulled, with towering
fo'c'sle and poop, though not so lofty as the majority of Spanish
ships. She had struck her t'gallants, and under topsails and courses
lay close-hauled on the starboard tack.
"What do you make of her?" I asked anxiously. "She shows no ancient."
"I know not; but we will show ours," replied my father. "Run below to
the flag locker and see if an English flag is therein."
Amidst a medley of bunting I found one stained and ragged, yet 'twas
the Cross of St. George, in spite of its woebegone state. Quickly it
was hoisted to the fore-truck, where it fluttered out bravely in the
strong breeze.
In reply the stranger hoisted her colours, but owing to her canvas it
was at first impossible to distinguish them. But as the ancient drew
clear above the topsail-yard we both cheered madly with sheer
thanksgiving. It was the Cross of St. George.
The galley saw it too, and, sheering off, began to make for the
shelter of a friendly port. But against the now heavy sea and with
her oars greatly undermanned her progress was but slow.
Round swept the barque in pursuit, her double row of ordnance run out
for action. As she passed us a voice hailed us in stentorian tones:
"Lay to, friend; we'll be with you ere night."
Then as she thrashed her way through the foam we saw written on her
stern the words: "_Nonsuch_ of Dartmouth."
CHAPTER XV.
OFF TO THE SPANISH MAIN.
BEING unable to lay to, in response to the _Nonsuch_, we lowered the
fore lateen sail and drifted with the wind. Then, having rove a fresh
sling to the mainyard and made good sundry defects, we paid a visit
to our prisoner below decks.
The man had been aroused by the noise of our guns, and, to his
surprise and terror, had found himself securely bound and under heavy
fire; for though the danger of his being hit was slight, several of
the arquebus balls had embedded themselves in the planking of the
pinnace.
But when my father spoke to him, promising him quarter on the
understanding that he gave no trouble, the soldier recovered his
composure. He had reasons to be thankful for his change of
circumstances, for, he told us, he was a Majorcan who had been
compelled to join a newly-raised levy for service in Flanders.
When my father asked him straightly if the munitions on board were
not intended for an invasion of England, the man shook his head.
Whether he was really ignorant or deliberately so we could not
decide.
"And mark my words, Ralph," observed my father, "if I tell them at
home of these preparations for invasion I shall only be laughed at.
Yet 'twill come ere long. The King of Spain merely waits to draw to
himself the sympathies of the English Papists--then he will move. Yet
methinks these English Papists would vastly prefer a Protestant
English Queen to an arrogant Romish Prince."
Meanwhile our rescuer, the _Nonsuch_, and her chase were well-nigh
hull down, but by the dull rumble of an incessant cannonade we knew
that they were hotly engaged. Of the issue we had no doubt, for with
the strong wind the barque could manoeuvre well enough to prevent the
troop-laden galley running alongside, while her ordnance ought soon
to send the Spaniard to the bottom.
As night fell the wind dropped. All sounds of firing had ceased. We
hoisted the most powerful light we possessed to the mainmast, then,
dog-tired, we sought slumber.
Just at sunrise we were hailed by the welcome sound of a gruff and
hearty English voice.
Lying a cable's length off our quarter was the _Nonsuch_, her sides
pitted with musket balls and her sails holed in many places, showing
how fierce had been the resistance of the Spanish arquebusiers.
Hanging to our main-chains was a longboat filled with bronzed seamen,
while in the stern sheets was one whom I instantly recognised as my
old companion, Jack Staynton. By him was seated his father, the
doughty master-gunner, now clad in a serviceable garb of russet
brown, with a silver whistle slung from his neck.
"What cheer-ho, shipmate!" shouted the latter, as he swung himself
nimbly over the side. "Right glad were we to drive off those rascally
Dons. But, by Christopher! I've seen you before, my lad!"
"Ay," added Jack, who had followed his parent. "What manner of chance
brings you here, Ralph?"
In a few words we explained the circumstances under which we found
ourselves on board the _Damsel of Lyme_, not forgetting to mention
the end of Captain Hannibal Cleat.
"Sink me if I should have thought it!" exclaimed Master Staynton.
"The cap'n was ever a sorry rogue, a stickler at nothing to gain his
ends, yet I marvel that he turned pirate. Had he contented himself
with taking Spanish ships 'twould have been a right proper course,
and I would have sent my son with him."
"And how came you, sir, to take to the sea?" I asked.
"Envy of some of my fellow-countrymen, and hatred and malice towards
the Dons," he replied. "Since several gentlemen of Devon have
adventured themselves to good account, methought 'twas time I
followed their example. I could not find zest enough even to enter
into another passage of arms with the rascally Mayor, so I sold my
appointment as master-gunner, raised all the money I could, and
fitted out the _Nonsuch_. It has not been a prosperous voyage, though
we have cleared our outlay with a bit to spare, not to speak of the
excitement and the experience gained thereby. Now we return to refit,
so, an ye will, I'll send half a score of stout seamen to lend a hand
to get the _Damsel_ safe home. How say you?"
My father was pleased beyond words with Master Staynton's offer, and
soon the two vessels were sailing in company, though it was necessary
to check the way of the pinnace, otherwise she would easily have
outstripped the barque.
Without further incident we drew within sight of Old England, but
when off the Lizard a tempest drove us to take shelter in the harbour
of Fowey, where for nearly three weeks the vessels rode storm-bound.
Thus Jack and I had ample opportunities for renewing our friendship
(if it can be said 'twas ever severed). He was serving aboard the
_Nonsuch_ as his father's 'prentice, and had--though he told me
not--done right well in several stiff fights.
Old Roger Staynton, too, was a frequent visitor to the _Damsel of
Lyme_. No doubt he found that the Madeira and Alicante stowed aboard
the pinnace was much to his liking; but, at the same time, he
conceived a strong attachment towards my father.
"Dick," quoth he, one evening, as the pair sat over a right royal
repast, "I've a mind that you sail in company with me; share and
share alike. Now, look you. The scurvy Poole man whose ship was to be
my consort has basely failed me. With more men I could do much. Since
the year draws to an end I mean to lay up till Lady Day, so you can
sit at your ease at home till then. Say not that you're loth to have
another fling at the Spanish dogs?"
"Nay," replied my father grimly. "Give me the chance, and I'll do my
best 'gainst the murderous Dons. But there is the question of money."
"Pshaw!" ejaculated Roger. "The _Damsel_ is yours by right of
conquest. Of recompense for services rendered to you by the _Nonsuch_
we'll say nothing. The Queen will claim her per centum, but a tithe
of the store of the munition of war aboard the pinnace will serve.
{Illustration: "THUS WE SPENT A HORRIBLE NIGHT." [_p. 190_.}
I'll see to that, for my old patron, Sir Henry Radclyffe, has the
ordering o' it. The _Damsel of Lyme_ is a sweet little craft, Dick,
of which you may justly be proud. Come now, clench the nail on the
head and say yea."
"But the men?"
"Men? Bless me! One has only to beat a drum at Point and thrice as
many Portsmouth seamen as ye lack will be at your bidding, willing to
be paid by the profits or not at all. If you have no better
objection, gossip, you had as lief say yea straightway."
"Whither would you cruise--the Indies?"
"A profitable ground."
"Have you given a thought to the Spanish Main?"
"Did I know it well I would go willingly, but 'tis strange waters."
"But not to me, Roger. Listen."
And forthwith my father proceeded to give Master Staynton the story
of his adventure in the uplands of Mexico.
"You could lay your hands on the silver?" demanded the master-gunner.
"Enough to ballast both ships. Eighty well-armed men would suffice.
Twelve days' marching, with scant possibility of armed resistance,
and we can gain the spot."
"Twelve days from the sea is a hazardous journey," objected Master
Staynton reflectively. "And how is the silver to be brought to the
coast?"
"There are slaves to be had in plenty," replied my father. "Moreover,
there are few armed Spanish ships off that coast, seeing that they
are wanted to escort the Hispaniola fleets. The Spaniards would never
expect a descent upon the mainland."
"Then 'tis a bargain, Dick?"
"It is, comrade."
And, leaning over the table, the two adventurers shook hands, thus
sealing the compact that was to lead us into strange adventures upon
the Spanish Main.
. . . . . . .
The winter passed quickly, for what with the joy of my father's
return after many years, and of mine own after many months of
captivity, and the preparations for our next venture, and divers
other circumstances, we had scarce time to look around ere spring was
upon us.
Thanks to the good offices of the Governor of Portsmouth, Her
Majesty's permission for us to adventure in the Indies was obtained
without difficulty. With her natural caution the Queen forbade us to
molest the Spaniards in any way yet we knew full well 'twas an empty
order, for had not Drake and Hawkins done likewise, to the outward
displeasure and with the secret approbation of their Royal mistress?
Of the munitions of war found on board the _Damsel of Lyme_ we
retained sufficient to more than fully equip the crews of the
_Nonsuch_ and the pinnace, handing over far more than the customary
tithe to the Governor of Portsmouth. The residue was sold at a low
rate--though 'twas all profit--to the train-bands of Portsmouth and
Chichester.
Meanwhile, my father had repurchased our old home at Crofton, and the
precious plan of the silver mine of San Luis was discovered after
having lain undiscovered for years in its hiding-place. When I saw
the intricate markings on the map, and the complicated directions how
to take this and that path or such and such a mountain pass, I could
well understand that the mine was beyond finding save by means of the
plan.
At length all our preparations were complete. The two vessels had
been breamed and tarred, all stores were on board, and 120 men--good
seamen all and trained to the use of arms--were signed on.
Captain Roger Staynton--to give him his new title--was to be in
supreme command, with my father as his immediate subordinate. There
were two mates to the _Nonsuch_--Tom Harvey and Will Sutton--both
Portsmouth men, and one mate--John Coombes, a native of
Bosham--appointed to assist my father on board the _Damsel of Lyme_.
Jack Staynton and I again served as 'prentices, though by now we were
fairly capable in the art and mystery of seamanship.
Thus it came about that on the morning following Lady Day in the year
1584--it being my sixteenth birthday--the two vessels weighed and set
sail for the distant Spanish Main.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE MOUNTAIN PASS.
OUR outward voyage was slow. Tempests and provoking calms delayed us
so much that 'twas not until the twenty-eighth day after leaving
Spithead that we sighted Yucatan. Thence, without espying any other
craft, we ran into the great bay of Campechy, where we encountered a
storm known as El Norte for the space of three days, which drove us
out of our course and into a hazardous position on a lee shore.
Finally we came to a secure anchorage at the mouth of a little river
some twenty leagues from the city of Vera Cruz. As far as we could
see, the district was uninhabited. There might be Indians dwelling in
the forests, but there were no signs of any Spanish settlements, for
which we were indeed thankful.
We then held a council of war, and, after much careful deliberation,
decided to land seventy men under the orders of my father to make the
expedition to the mine.
The _Damsel of Lyme_ was therefore dismantled and anchored in a
secluded creek, while the _Nonsuch_, under Captain Staynton, was to
cruise in the offing, putting into the river at certain fixed times
on the chance of picking up the expedition on its return.
At first we hoped to be able to ascend the river in boats, but at
less than a league from its mouth we found it so encumbered with
rocks and so rapid in its course that such an expedient was
impossible.
It was on the last day of June, every man heavily laden, the
expedition set out on its hazardous enterprise, Jack Staynton, at his
earnest request, accompanying us.
On the second day we fell in with a party of Indians who, on being
offered payment, and finding that we were not the dreaded Spaniards,
readily provided us with men and mules, for though 'twas less than a
hundred years since the first horse was seen in this part of the
world, both horses and mules were to be had in plenty.
On and on we toiled, for the sun was broiling, but every day found us
higher above the sea, till in the evening of the ninth day we saw a
range of snow-capped mountains, from some of the peaks of which thin
columns of smoke were issuing.
"Yonder is the burning mountain they call Huitzel!" exclaimed my
father, pointing to the loftiest of the smoking peaks. "We have done
well, for almost under its shadow lies the mine of San Luis. Courage,
men; all being well, every one of you will have enough and to spare
for the rest of your lives."
With that the seamen took heart, for the long journey into the
unknown and the thought of being separated from the sea had tried
them sorely. But, on the other hand, the Indians showed signs of fear
at the burning mountain, and nothing would induce them to go farther.
Finding threats and promises equally useless, we had no course but to
leave them behind. They readily consented to wait till our return;
so, taking the baggage animals with us, we entered on the final
stages of our outward journey.
Now 'twas up and up, passing through grim defiles, so narrow that
save for a brief two hours the sun's rays never shone upon the arid
path, while any of the boulders that hung menacingly over the edges
of the precipice on either side would assuredly seal us up in a
fearful trap should they topple from their precarious bases.
Anon the way would trend round the face of a tremendous cliff, midway
'twixt summit and base. Often the path was barely two feet in width,
and a false step would have sent us headlong for a distance of thirty
fathoms. At some of the narrowest parts a man would crawl carefully
with a rope round his middle, and on gaining more secure foothold
would steady the cord whilst his comrades trod the dizzy path in fear
and trepidation. Yet the mules, heavily laden as they were, traversed
the hazardous way with seeming ease, their unshod hoofs finding a
safe foothold on the slippery rock.
"'Twill be but another hour to sunset," remarked my father, as we
halted at a wide recess that cut deep into the mountain. "Now comes
another perilous journey, much like the last. 'Tis half a league in
length. What say ye, men? Shall we push on and gain the level ground
ere night, or camp here?"
"We'll push on, sir, if you give the word," shouted several of the
seamen, for they were right glad to have done with the dizzy path,
e'en though they were used to going aloft in a gale of wind.
"So be it then," replied my father. "'Tis the last difficult portion
of our journey."
Slowly the men who formed the advanced guard filed along the awesome
path. Next came the mules, with my father, Jack and I, and the rest
of the men bringing up the rear.
Presently the train of mules came to an abrupt halt. One of their
number, being unable to pass the projecting ledge by reason of its
package slipping to one side, obstinately refused to move, nor could
we get to it on account of the other animals, whose baggage hung well
out over the edge of the abyss.
At length the mule knelt down, and the others walked carefully over
it, till we were able to come up to the spot where it had been
stopped.
"The baggage must go!" exclaimed my father. "Do you, Jenkins, cut the
bundle adrift."
With that one of the seamen lashed a rope round him, and gave the
other end to his comrade to hold. Then, knife in hand, he crept
cautiously along the narrow ledge to free the animal of its burden.
He had all but succeeded when the mule, starting to its feet, lashed
out with its hind legs, striking Jenkins full in the chest. The next
instant man and mule disappeared over the edge of the precipice.
With a jerk that well-nigh capsized the men who were holding it, the
rope tautened, having fortunately caught in a small projection at the
brink of the chasm. Twenty feet below us our unfortunate comrade was
swinging helplessly at the rope's end, his breath well-nigh knocked
out of his body by reason of the kick and the fall.
'Twas, indeed, a desperate situation. At any moment the rope might
slip over the rock that held it, and, running back, would jerk from
their precarious foothold the men who had hold of it.
"Can you climb, Jenkins?" asked my father, leaning cautiously over
the edge of the cliff.
"I've not the strength to raise my hand, sir," panted the man. "Can
you lower me to the bottom?"
"There's not enough rope. Besides, how could we draw you up again?
We'll have you with us in a trice, never fear."
It was an easy matter to encourage the unfortunate seaman, but a
difficult one to extricate him from his plight.
Crawling along the ledge till he came to the knob of rock that held
the rope, one of the seamen made the discovery that there was a deep,
narrow cleft in the path close to the base of the cliff that rose
above it on our right. Into this he drove his dagger till only the
hilt was visible.
"Can you pass another rope for'ard, sir?" he asked. "We'll reeve a
bight, and lower that to Jenkins as well."
In a few minutes another rope, passing round the hilt of the dagger,
was lowered to the now well-nigh exhausted man. Then, gripping the
hilt of the weapon firmly with his hands, the seaman gave the word to
haul away handsomely. But barely had the others taken the strain when
they were called upon to stand by.
"The rock will cut the rope through like a knife," said the seaman.
"We must needs put something down to ease the chafe."
So saying, he stripped off his coat and doublet and, wrapping them in
a bundle, placed them under the rope where it grated against the
sharp edge of the rock. Once again the others hauled slowly, and to
every one's relief we saw Jenkins' head and shoulders appear over the
ledge.
But the task of assisting him upon the path was one of extreme
difficulty, since a man had barely room to brace himself for the
effort. Yet 'twas done, greatly to our joy, and the rescued man lay
stretched upon the narrow ledge, weak and helpless, but safe.
By this time it was dusk, and in a very few minutes the short
tropical twilight would give place to intense darkness. With the
utmost dispatch we proceeded on our way, crawling and worming along
the dangerous path.
Suddenly a loud noise like the exaggerated whirr of an axe against a
grindstone smote on our ears.
"Lie down, every man of you!" shouted my father, and immediately we
all obeyed, wondering what would happen.
Then, like the rush of escaping waters, a fearful whirlwind swept
along the face of the cliff. Had we been standing we should have been
inevitably swept off the narrow path. As it was, we could only lie
close, wondering how the advance party and the mules were meeting
these conditions.
For full five minutes the blast continued, bringing with it thick
clouds of dust from the arid valley below, till our eyes were
smarting painfully with the irritating grit.
Then, almost as suddenly as it had come, the wind ceased, and all was
perfectly still. It was now pitch dark, and willy-nilly we were
compelled to stay where we were till dawn.
Presently the dull rumble of distant thunder echoed through the
gorge, and ere long lightning began to illumine the sky at frequent
intervals.
Then the wind rose again, but no rain fell. Vicious flashes of
lightning played across the face of the cliff. At one moment we could
see everything around us with startling clearness; at another we were
enveloped in the inky blackness, while the rock under us vibrated
with the deafening crashes of the thunder.
Thus we spent a horrible night, and were greatly rejoiced when the
storm passed away, and the distant snowclad peaks grew rosy under the
rays of the rising sun.
We found the rest of the expedition safe and sound, with the
exception of a mule that had been struck by lightning. They were
awaiting us on a gently sloping platform at the far end of the pass,
having gained this more desirable camping-place while we had been
engaged in effecting the rescue of the seaman Jenkins.
After breakfast the march was resumed, my father heading the column,
since it was necessary to take the right track out of many divers
turnings. The road was now comparatively broad, so that four men
could comfortably walk abreast, but at almost every half-mile there
was a fork, so that without the aid of a map one could easily have
taken twenty wrong turnings; while everywhere the road was ankle-deep
in sand and dust.
Yet with the utmost confidence my father led the way. On the return
journey there could be no difficulty, since the forks ran in the
direction we were taking.
Presently we came abreast of a long cleft in the rock, so narrow that
a man would have trouble to edge his way through without turning
sideways.
"Unpack the mules, my lads!" exclaimed my father in a loud voice.
"Here is the mine!"
CHAPTER XVII.
BRINGING BACK THE SILVER.
WITH the utmost eagerness the men fell to unloading the baggage from
the mules, which were then turned out to graze on the rich pastures
that grew in these high altitudes. Then, armed with mattocks and
spades, a score of lusty seamen followed my father, Jack, and me into
the mine, leaving the remainder standing to their arms lest the
Spaniards should, by any possibility, follow and attempt to surprise
us.
It was a matter of some difficulty to traverse the narrow winding
defile, the rocks on either side being worn smooth by the action of
the moving sand. The alkali-like dust lay thick on the path, and as
we wormed our way, edgewise at times, the cloud of disturbed sand
well-nigh choked us.
With us we trailed a long rope, twice the length of the defile, a
stout snatch-block, and a long narrow bag made of the strongest
canvas, for the use of these articles formed the only practical way
of removing the precious metal.
Presently the natural cutting opened up into a vast circular pit, the
brink of which seemed more than a thousand feet above us. Even in the
subdued daylight, for the sun was not high enough to shine into the
pit, we could see the rocks gleaming with the virgin silver.
Lustily we fell to work, cutting and hacking at the mineral, and
placing it in the canvas sack. As fast as the latter was filled it
was hauled through a defile, emptied, and pulled back to be
replenished. This we continued for two hours, till, caked with dust
and sweat, we were glad to desist and allow our places to be taken by
another relay of seamen.
Long before nightfall we had taken enough silver to more than load
our mules, so leaving twenty men to continue the work of mining, we
started at daybreak to traverse the mountain pass once more.
This we successfully accomplished, and, having hidden the load,
returned with the unladen animals well before dusk.
On the following morning the mules were again laden, and as much of
our baggage as could be dispensed with was thrown aside and carefully
hidden lest any wandering party of Spaniards or Indians should find
the mine.
Then for the fourth time we negotiated the fearsome pass, though,
strangely enough, elated by our success and hardened by familiarity
with the dangers of the mountains, we pursued our way with fair speed
and no little confidence.
At length we came to the end of the defile, and below us swept the
vast tree-covered plain. The want of fresh water urged us to reach
the banks of a stream we knew of ere night, so, leaving the mules
under the care of a party of seamen to follow more leisurely, the
rest of us pushed on to find a camping-place for the night.
Eager to leave the arid sands around us, Jack Staynton and I hastened
ahead. Just as we gained the first outlying tree--'twas little better
than a stunted thorn--we espied what appeared to be a broad series of
furrows running athwart our path. As we approached we found that
'twas the hoofprints of many animals still fresh in the dust.
"Let us hasten back, Ralph!" exclaimed Jack. "There's something
strange about these marks--horses, it may be, and if so, it means
that the Spaniards are nigh."
Swiftly, yet cautiously, we regained our main body, which,
fortunately, remained in a shallow depression betwixt the mountains
and the forest, though screened from the latter by the ridge of low
rocks.
My father looked grave at the news.
"We must await the coming of the mules," said he. "Then, if it comes
to the worst, we can make a good stand on yonder ridge. Do you,
Coombes, make haste back to the baggage train and bid them come up to
us hot foot."
While the mate had gone on his errand, three men, swift of foot, were
sent on to explore the ridge, having been given strict orders not to
fire their pieces or unnecessarily show themselves unless discovered
and attacked by the Spaniards.
Just as the mule train came up with us one of the scouts returned
with the news that everything seemed quiet in front. Accordingly, the
order was given to continue the march, and three hours before sunset
the whole of our little force occupied the crest of the rocks
abutting on the forest.
Here we made preparations to spend the night, piling up big stones to
form loopholes for the musketeers, and hedges of prickly thorn to
keep off a charge of horse. Of water we had barely enough to go
round, but in spite of the heat and their thirst the patient mules,
tethered in the centre of our fortifications, maintained almost
perfect silence.
An hour later we were startled to hear the sound of heavy firing
proceeding from the direction of the forest, and presently we espied
our Indian bearers streaming in flight towards us. Evidently their
terror of the brutal Spaniards was greater than their dread of the
smoking mountain.
The fugitives ran with almost incredible swiftness, their feet
skimming over the sand, while a hundred paces in the rear floundered
some threescore Spanish horsemen. They had, for the most part,
discarded their steel plates, and wore the thick but light cotton
clothing adapted from the conquered Mexicans. They had slung some
musketoons across their backs, and, lance or sword in hand, were hard
in pursuit of the Indians. With cries of "San Iago!" they rode
eagerly with loose rein.
Now, as luck would have it, the pursued headed almost straight
towards our fortalice, keeping slightly to our right. Unperceived by
friend or foe, we lay still, with arquebuses at the ready, awaiting
the signal to fire a volley.
"Let 'em have it!" shouted my father.
The hiss of the smouldering matches was drowned by the crash of
twoscore pieces, and when the smoke had cleared away a fearsome sight
met our eyes.
The ground about our right front was littered with dead and wounded
men and horses. Of the survivors some of the more dauntless still
pressed forward; others, irresolute in the face of new danger, reined
in their steeds, cursing in impotent rage, while a few turned tail
and rode away from the scene of the ambush.
Although no order had been given to that effect, our men had almost
invariably aimed at the riders, and when they fell, their steeds,
trained to superb discipline, remained standing by their dead or
dying masters, save where, maddened by wounds, the horses followed
the fugitives from the field.
There were not sufficient survivors to offer much resistance.
Throwing down our discharged weapons, we fell upon them with our
swords. One or two fought bravely till pulled from their horses; but
those who did not seek safety in flight were soon prisoners in our
hands.
"Would we had netted the lot," said my father, gazing towards the
rapidly vanishing Spaniards. "They'll make trouble for us ere we see
the _Damsel of Lyme_ once more." Then turning to one of the
prisoners, evidently an officer of rank, he addressed him in Spanish.
But the man obstinately refused to reply, and though my father
appeared to threaten him, not a word would he utter, merely scowling
with black rage upon his captor.
Nor were we any more successful with the other prisoners--seven in
number. With the utmost resolution they kept silence, although
threatened with death should they withhold the required information.
"'Tis not my purpose to do them hurt," said my father in an
undertone. "Yet must we find out whether our retreat is threatened."
By this time the fugitive Indians, seeing that their pursuers
themselves had been put to flight, began to return. In reply to our
inquiries, one of their number, who spoke Spanish fairly well, told
us that they had been surprised in the woods by the Spaniards, but
had managed to get clear with the loss of seven killed and wounded by
the first discharge of the Spaniards' arquebuses.
"Threaten to turn 'em over to the Indians, sir," counselled one of
our men, who had himself been a prisoner of the Dons, and had
suffered accordingly.
Acting upon this advice my father again addressed the Spanish
officer, and, at the mere threat of such a fate, the prisoner gave
the desired information.
It was startling enough in all sooth. News of our expedition had
filtered through--possibly by means of the Indians we had
engaged--and a strong force, of which the party we had overcome was
the advance guard, was on its way from the city of Vera Cruz to
intercept us on our march to the sea.
On this we held another council of war. Some proposed that we should
hide the silver and march light, taking another route to the coast;
others that we should hold what we had, and trust to Providence and
our own strength to fight our way to the sea; while others even more
daring suggested that we should retrace our steps, cross to the great
ocean that lies on the west side of the Spanish Main, and there build
a ship large enough to take us round the great cape that lies towards
the cold unknown ocean of the south.
After much deliberation it was decided to adopt the middle course,
holding to the hard-gotten silver at all costs; and at daybreak,
having ordered the beasts of burden, and shared their loads with the
Indian carriers, we resumed our march, keeping strict military
formation on our return to the sea.
Unmolested, though worn out with ceaseless vigilance, we progressed
till within a day's march of the haven where we had left the _Damsel
of Lyme_. Here, instead of following the left bank of the turbulent
stream, we crossed and followed the opposite bank, thus putting a
river that increased in size and strength as we descended betwixt our
foes and ourselves.
Now we came in touch with the Spaniards once more, for strong bodies
of musketeers and archers appeared on the foreside of the river and
opened a heavy fire whenever they caught a glimpse of us through the
thick brushwood.
We now thought it advisable to release our prisoners, with the
exception of the officer, for they greatly hampered our movements by
reason of the men required to guard them.
That night we encamped, lighting huge watch-fires, but before
midnight we were once more on the move, leaving the fires to delude
the enemy into the belief that we were halting till daybreak.
'Twas well that we did so, for barely had we covered two leagues when
we heard the sounds of firing. The Spaniards had contrived to cross
the river, and had made a surprise attack upon our abandoned
camping-site.
In a measure this was fortunate, for we had diverted their march from
the direction of the creek in which the pinnace lay hidden; but, at
the same time, we were separated from her by an arm of the sea nearly
three miles in breadth.
At length we came in sight of the ocean once more, for on emerging
from the dense scrub we found ourselves on a narrow neck of land
surrounded on three sides by low cliffs, and forming one of the arms
that enclosed the estuary of the river.
Here we immediately proceeded to entrench ourselves, for there was no
time to be lost. A shallow ditch was dug, and a low breastwork was
thrown up across the narrowest part of the projecting land, while on
the farthermost side of the ditch a wall of thorns was constructed
that would greatly hamper a charge of horse, but at the same time
would offer no impediment to our bullets.
Then, having finished with the Indians and the mules, we dismissed
them, knowing that the former could make good their escape with ease
ere the Spaniards were upon us. At the same time, we promised good
payment to the Indians should they be able to furnish us with
supplies of food before we were closely beset.
Acting upon a prearranged plan, we made three separate fires, damping
the wood so that it threw up a dense smoke. This was for the recall
of our consort, the _Nonsuch_, although we knew not whether she was
still in the offing.
Water there was in abundance, there being several springs close to
the sand at the edge of the sea; yet, though separated from the salt
ocean only by a few paces, the liquid was perfectly sweet and
wholesome.
"Courage, my lads!" exclaimed my father. "Here we can hold out for
weeks, if needs be."
"I'd rather that we had the pinnace to fall back upon, sir," observed
Coombes. "I would make an essay to bring her across."
"But how so?" asked my father. "She is dismantled, with no sails
aboard. And, moreover, how are we to get across the mouth of the
river?"
"I'll swim for it, sir, if three others are willing to make the
attempt. Then trust me to get her across somehow."
"Then go, and God speed you, Coombes," replied my father.
Had he needed them, the mate could have had a score of men to
accompany him, for all who could swim well were ready to make the
attempt, though they knew the dangers, both from the reptiles that
infested the river and from sharks that came in across the bar.
Undeterred by these terrors, Coombes selected his three comrades and
made ready for the swim.
CHAPTER XVIII.
AT BAY.
AMID the heartfelt encouragements of their comrades the four
swimmers, having divested themselves of their clothing, slipped into
the sea. It now wanted nearly an hour to dead low ebb, so that for
half the time allowed to cover the distance the intrepid men would be
swept seawards, while the young flood would bear them shorewards once
more.
Long we watched them, as, swimming with easy yet powerful strokes,
they cleft the muddy waters of the estuary till to the keenest eye
only four black dots were visible above the cream-coloured breakers.
Yet we were not idle, for we strengthened our defences, overhauled
our stores, arms, and ammunition, and sent men out to bear us word at
the approach of our foes.
Some of the Indians came in during the morning, bringing with them
native fruits and baskets woven with rushes containing a dark, sticky
mess. What this was composed of we knew not, but 'twas pleasant to
the taste, and satisfying to boot, in spite of its appearance. Thus
on the score of hunger and thirst we had no fear, and, confident of
being able to withstand thrice our number of Spaniards, our hopes ran
high.
It was almost an hour before midnight when our outposts brought in
the exciting news that the Spaniards were close upon us. Instantly
every man was at his post, handling his piece with the utmost
coolness.
The moon was on the point of setting. Its deep yellow disc was just
visible above the distant treetops, thus bathing us in its light,
while the forest was in the most sombre darkness.
Although we lay low the Spaniards espied us. But they forbore to
close, remaining at a distance, and keeping up a straggling fire with
their arquebuses, the bullets singing well over our heads or burying
themselves in the sand.
"They mean to play with us," remarked my father. "Then, when we are
weary with long watching, they'll attempt to carry our position by
assault."
"But they'll not do it, sir," added a seaman resolutely. "All our
spare muskets are loaded with swan-shot. At close quarters that will
be more than they can stand."
"We may as well encourage them," said my parent. "Do you order the
men to gradually diminish the firing. Then, if they think our
ammunition has run low, perchance they'll try to rush our defences."
Well can I recall that night. Behind their defences our men were
laughing and talking as if in a peaceful camp, except the few who, at
intervals, thrust their arquebuses through the rough embrasures, and
aimed at the spluttering flashes of their foemen's muskets. On the
high-lying open ground in our rear the three beacon fires burned
furiously, throwing a ruddy glare upon the distant forest. The fires
served a double purpose: they called our comrades on board the
_Nonsuch_, to our aid, and also gave us timely warning should any of
the Spaniards leave the edge of the forest.
Yet we did not come off scathless. A musketeer, just as he was in the
act of aiming, had his trigger-finger shattered by a ball, and I call
to mind how lustily he railed at his foes as comrades applied rough
bandages to his severed member. Another seaman had his temple seared
by a bullet, yet, when he had recovered from his temporary swoon, he
insisted on again taking his place in the defence.
At length, as my father had predicted, the Spanish musketeers' fire
burst forth most furiously, and at the same time a strong troop of
horse bore down upon our left flank. These never had a chance, for
ere they could close they became entangled in our barricade of
thorns, and as the horses reared and plunged we fired charges of
small shot into the struggling press. A few of the riders dismounted
and forced their way through the hedge, only to be shot down or
thrust through by push of pike; and in the utmost disorder the
survivors fled to the shelter of the forest, pursued by the taunts
and gibes of our exultant men.
Almost immediately an attack was made upon our right by a body of
infantry, composed of both musketeers and pikemen. Had both attacks
been delivered at once things might have gone badly with us, for the
infantry came on with the utmost steadiness in spite of the hail of
shot we poured into them.
Twice they gained a lodgment on our low breastwork, and each time we
bore them back with musket, pike, and sword, till, finding that they
were unsupported by their horse, the infantry gave back, leaving us
with five dead and seven badly wounded men to show how fierce had
been the conflict.
With that they left us in peace for a while, and as the sun rose we
cast long and anxious glances, both to seaward, whence we expected
the _Nonsuch_, and also across the estuary, where the pinnace had
lain hidden and dismantled.
Seaward the horizon was unbroken, but, labouring heavily across the
bay, we could see the slender masts of the _Damsel of Lyme_ swaying
to and fro like a giant pendulum. The four gallant men had succeeded
in extricating the pinnace from her retreat, and were sweeping her
across the estuary, since there was not a sail left on board.
Fortunately, the weather was calm, though the ebb ran strongly
athwart the vessel's course, thus driving her far to seaward.
"Let us hope that it does not come on to blow!" I exclaimed. "Without
canvas the pinnace would be unmanageable, and our own position worse
than before."
"They'll fetch in all right on the flood," said one of the men
encouragingly. "After all, what's the hurry? We are enjoying
ourselves right royally."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a dull boom came from the
direction of the forest, and with a rush and a roar a round shot
ploughed away part of the top of our rough breastwork, scattering the
earth and stone in all directions.
The Spaniards had contrived to bring up a piece of ordnance and had
commenced to open fire.
"Tut! This is more than we bargained for," quoth my father, plucking
at his beard, as was his wont when annoyed. "'Twill be hazardous for
the pinnace to be brought to land, and equally so to us while we
embark. Now, lads, who'll follow me and drive those dogs from their
gun?"
Every man within hearing signified his willingness to take part in
the sally, but young Jack Staynton took upon himself to utter a
protest.
"'Tis hardly right that you should go, sir, craving your pardon. If
ill betide, who can worthily take your place? Moreover, 'tis better
if the men chosen for this affair are young, active, and fleet of
foot. Therefore I beg of you that I may take charge of the party."
For a few moments my father looked astonished at such a proposal
coming from a lad, e'en though he were nearly full grown.
"You speak with sense, young master," he replied. "But you forget one
thing--that your sire will hold me answerable for your safety."
"That safety must give place to the safety of the whole expedition,
sir," said my comrade. "Therefore give me permission to lead the
onfall."
In the end Jack gained his point, another shot rebounding from the
earthworks hastening my father in his consent. It was my wish to
accompany my companion, and since Jack had been allowed to face the
risk I, too, obtained leave. From the crowd of volunteers we selected
five young and active men, used to give and receive hard knocks, and
zealous in their work.
Our preparations were soon made. Throwing off most of our apparel so
as to permit the freest use of our limbs, we armed ourselves with a
brace of pistols and a hanger apiece. One of the men also carried a
hammer and half a dozen spike nails.
Crouching behind our breastwork, we made our way to the extreme
right, where the cliff was about a score feet from the water's edge.
Fortunately the tide, though now on the flood, was still low, leaving
bare a narrow track of mud and sand, sufficiently firm to allow us to
walk without fear of sinking above our ankles.
Along the shore we crept cautiously, one after another, for by this
means we could place ourselves within fifty paces of the position of
the ordnance. The gun was partly screened by the trees that
terminated almost at the water's edge, but with astonishing laxity
the Spaniards had neglected to guard the base of the line of low
cliffs. Had they advanced to the attack by this way, and taken us on
the flank, things might have been different, but they had thrown away
the opportunity, and we were making use of it.
When as close to the battery as we durst go without being perceived,
we halted to recover our breath, for the climbing and wallowing
through the ooze had somewhat tired us. Then, tightening our belts
and looking once more to the priming of our pistols, we waited till
Jack gave the signal.
Suddenly the gun thundered again.
"Now have at them!" shouted my comrade, and ere the white cloud of
smoke had drifted from before the piece of ordnance we were tearing
pell-mell across the intervening stretch of ground.
With a loud "Hurrah!" we burst upon the dumbfounded Dons, snapping
our pistols full in their faces and falling upon them with our keen
hangers. Not knowing our numbers, they gave back, shouting to their
comrades for aid.
Meanwhile Skelton, the seaman entrusted with the task of spiking the
gun, did his work right well, driving in the long nail right to its
head, so that the metal, bending inside the bore of the piece of
ordnance, could not be removed save by dint of much time and labour.
Our work completed, we turned and raced back to our comrades, heading
straight for our defences instead of taking the way by the foot of
the cliffs.
Now, the Spanish musketeers, guessing the nature of our errand, and
seeing that we were not of their party, opened a furious fire upon us
as we ran; while our men behind the breastwork lustily replied in
order to keep down the enemy's fusillade.
It was a race for life, each man for himself, for the swiftest soon
outstripped those who were slower of foot.
Thus far we had come unscathed, save for a few slight injuries,
during our assault upon the Spanish cannoneers; but when about
half-way across I suddenly felt a most terrible pain in my left leg,
as if 'twas seared with a hot iron.
I staggered a few paces, then, in spite of my efforts to keep my
feet, I rolled over like a felled ox.
In so doing I must have cried out, for Jack Staynton, who was but a
few paces ahead, turned and ran back to me. Others in front also
returned, while those behind crowded round, till the group offered a
fine target for the musketeers.
"Tarry not!" I exclaimed feebly, but the others took scant heed of my
words. Kneeling with his back to me, Skelton called to them to hoist
me on his shoulders, and in a trice we were once more lessening the
distance between us and safety, Staynton keeping behind me with drawn
hanger as if to shield me from the chance of another shot.
Every stride of Skelton's long legs sent a dull aching pain through
me, but even as he ran I could not help turning my head in the
direction of the enemy's position.
"Put me down and run, Skelton," I almost shouted. "They come! They
come!"
From the corner of the forest spurred half a dozen horsemen, all
superbly mounted, and with fierce shouts rode furiously at us. As
well might a palsied rat seek to 'scape a trained whippet.
"Nay, young master!" exclaimed the brave seaman. "To me, comrades;
we'll drive these rascals off!"
Nevertheless he did set me down, and drawing his hanger stood over
me. Jack likewise took his stand at Skelton's sword arm, while the
others turned grimly like bears at bay in the baiting-pit.
Like a whirlwind the horsemen were upon us, seeking to ride us down.
Skelton's hammer, hurtling through the air, ended the career of one
of them, but ere he could properly guard himself he went down before
another's sword.
Even as I saw him falling something struck me on the head. Thousands
of red and white lights flashed before my eyes, and my senses left
me.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE TAKING OF THE GALLEON.
WHEN I came to myself I was lying in the small state-room or cabin of
the _Damsel of Lyme_. I lay on a mattress placed on the floor, and
noticed the oak beams over my head.
For awhile I pondered, trying to recall my thoughts, and wondering
how I came to be lying there. Then the incidents of our stand 'gainst
the Spaniards on the isthmus came back to me, and, anxious to know
what had taken place since I was stricken down, I attempted to rise.
But the effort was beyond me, and with an involuntary groan I sank
back once more upon my pillow.
Then it was that I became aware that my head was swathed in bandages,
while a sharp stinging pain in my leg told me that that was also
bound so tightly that it seemed as if I were lashed to the floor.
There was no one else in the cabin, but overhead there was much
scurrying and trampling of feet, while the slight list told me that
the pinnace was once more under way.
For a while I lay thus, longing for some one to appear, while, in
addition to the pain of my injuries, my throat burned like a
limekiln.
Then the agonising thought came across my mind: Had the pinnace been
taken, and was I a prisoner? If 'twas so, it was unlikely that I
should be placed in the cabin; yet the doubt haunted me, and I
strained my ears to catch the shouts of the men on deck.
After awhile I heard a voice, which I recognised as that of Coombes,
the mate, shout, "Hard over; let her come round," and then, with an
inexpressible feeling of relief, I knew that I was safe in the hands
of my friends.
But even then doubts arose in my mind. How had my father fared in the
final stages of the fight--and Jack Staynton too? I remembered seeing
him waiting to receive the charge of the Spanish horse. And Skelton
also; he, I knew, went down as he strove to defend me; yet I
survived, and why not he?
In the midst of my suspense the door was softly opened and Jack's
head cautiously appeared. Seeing me awake, he stepped in, with
mingled joy and anxiety written in every line of his face. As he did
so, I saw that his left arm was in a sling.
"How fares it, Jack?" I asked.
"Hist," he replied, holding up a finger warningly. "You must not
speak yet awhile. Your father will be right glad to see you have
--awakened," he added after a brief pause.
"Is he hurt?" I asked, in spite of my comrade's injunction.
"Nay, sound as a bell; and all's well with those of us who are left.
Now, rest easy, Ralph. Later I'll tell you of the whole matter."
"Water," I begged.
Thereupon he held a pannikin to my lips 'Twas water mingled with some
sour compound, such as the Spaniards use in cases of fever, and,
parched as I was, I took a deep draught, e'en though I would have
vastly preferred the liquid without the drug it contained.
Thereupon Jack left me to acquaint my father of my recovery. But on
my parent's arrival he was even more uncommunicative than my comrade,
for he forbade me to speak, and, holding my hand, told me to try and
slumber. In a very few minutes, overcome with weakness, I slept.
From that time my progress, though slow, was steadily maintained, and
within a week I was able to sit up for an hour or so and engage in
conversation.
Jack soon told me all concerning the last stages of the defence. So
well did our little party defend themselves that ere the Spaniards
could achieve their object several of our men left the shelter of the
breastwork and drove them off with the loss of three of their number.
Skelton and I, the only two members of the sallying party who were
badly hurt, were carried in. Skelton's injuries consisted of a nasty
cut across the head, caused by the partly parried stroke of the
Spaniard's sword, and a broken rib, for one of the horses had trodden
upon him as he lay on the ground. As for me, I had received a musket
ball that grazed the muscles of my left leg, and a blow across the
head that all but fractured my thick skull.
Soon after the return of the sallying party the pinnace had been
brought in close to shore. Safe from the fire of the Spaniards' heavy
ordnance, yet galled by the fire of the arquebuses, our men contrived
to ship the whole of the silver by means of a whip and tackle betwixt
the ship and the shore. Then, those on board covering their comrades'
retreat, the remainder of the defenders gained the decks of the
_Damsel of Lyme_.
Fortunately, what little wind there was came off shore, and by the
aid of the sweeps the pinnace was taken beyond the range of the
enemy.
There they drifted, under bare poles, and had it come on to blow
things might have gone badly with us, being helpless in a dismantled
ship. But on the morning of the following day, to our joy the
_Nonsuch_ bore up to us, and the work of transhipping the pinnace's
gear was put in hand immediately.
Within twenty-four hours the yards were sent aloft, the sails bent,
and the proper quantity of stores and ammunition placed on board;
and, having achieved the object of the expedition, both vessels set a
course towards Old England.
During this time I had lain unconscious, and it was not until the
sixth day following my injury that I came to myself.
Fearing to make the Windward Passage, or, indeed, any of the straits
betwixt Hispaniola and the adjacent islands, since the Spanish ships
of war were known to be thereabouts, we stood north-eastwards,
passing between the dangerous cays of the Bahamas.
Thereafter, having navigated this part of the Indies successfully, we
stood northwards, intending to put into one of the ports of the
newly-founded settlement of Virginia to replenish our fresh
provisions.
Here we found that the poor planters whom Sir Walter Raleigh had sent
over to form the colony were in a most distressed condition, for
sickness, mortality, and the ravages of the Indians had reduced the
survivors almost to starvation. Some of them implored us to give them
a passage home, and Captain Staynton consented to receive a score of
them. After remaining here for nearly two months, for the weather
during this time was most unpropitious, we again set sail, having
left a goodly store of powder, of which we had plenty, for the use of
those of the planters who were still determined to maintain the
struggle for existence in that ill-starred land.
By this time I had quite recovered from my wounds, though at times
the muscles of my calf twinged painfully. Yet, in general, the use of
my limbs was not impaired, nor was my health adversely affected by
reason of my hurts and the long period of my recovery.
On the third day out the wind, hitherto fair, shifted nor'-east, and
at length blew so hard that we were compelled to scud under
close-reefed fore courses only. Four days it continued thus,
finishing with such a tempest the like I wish never to see again.
With morning 'twas almost a calm, though the sea ran high by reason
of the vexed condition of the waves during the gale. But when we
looked around for our consort, the _Nonsuch_, she was nowhere to be
seen.
"She'll have weathered it, sir," observed Coombes. "What the
pinnace'Il go through the barque'll make light of. We'll pick her up
sure enow in a day or two."
The day wore on, and though a sharp look out was kept no signs of our
consort were visible; so at night we hove-to, firing a gun at every
quarter of an hour in the hope that the _Nonsuch_ might hear the
report and bear up to us.
Early on the following morning the look out reported a sail hull-down
on our larboard bow. Our course was thereupon altered, and soon we
perceived the vessel which had apparently hove-to.
"That's the _Nonsuch_ sure enow," said Coombes confidently, as he
made his way down from aloft. "She's heard us, and is waiting for us
to come up."
But the mate was wrong, for as we rapidly approached, the wind being
fresh and steady, we perceived the vessel to be a large galleon. She
had evidently suffered severely in the gale, for her topmasts had
gone by the board, leaving only her fore and main lower masts
standing, the mizzen having also carried away. She had sent her lower
yards up, and under courses only was she scudding before the breeze.
"A Don, sure enough," remarked my father. "We'll nab the rascal."
"Let us hope that she is not crowded with soldiers," said I, bearing
in mind the lesson Captain Hannibal Cleat had learned to his cost on
board this very craft.
"That we must guard against," he replied. "Meanwhile see to it that
guns are fired, and our own ancient dipped repeatedly as if we are
calling upon our consort."
Though the _Nonsuch_ might be leagues away, or perhaps at the bottom
of the sea, we might reasonably expect to profit by the trick. Then,
as we approached within range, we let fly with our culverin, aiming
wide so as to show that we had no wish to provoke should the Spaniard
have a mind to surrender.
But the galleon held resolutely on her course, making no signs as to
her preparations for defence or otherwise, although I felt sure that
I saw the sun glint upon polished steel morions just above the
weather bulwarks.
Rapidly we came up with her, for she being partially crippled, we
could sail three leagues to her one. On her gilded stern we could
discern the name _Sol del Esto_.
Presently she altered her course, and began, by reason of her small
spread of canvas, to edge more off the wind. As she did so, she
exposed the whole of her broadside--twenty-five demi-cannons.
Swiftly we altered helm, till the pinnace placed herself in the same
relative position as heretofore--namely, fair in her wake. This was
sufficiently easy to do, since the galleon durst not lay too close to
the wind with her scanty canvas, and we were thus able to rake her
with our culverin and sakers, while in reply she could but use two
falcons that projected through ports on either side of her rudder.
"Now let her have it right royally," shouted my father, and in
obedience to his orders we kept up a steady fire, sending shot after
shot crashing into her towering stern.
The Dons were not slow in replying, but the range of the falcons was
not enough to do us harm, the balls plunging finally into the sea at
a hundred feet or more from the pinnace.
Every time the galleon yawed the watchful Coombes had the pinnace
about with the utmost swiftness, so that ere the Spaniard's broadside
guns could be brought to bear, the _Damsel of Lyme_ was once more
dead astern of her gigantic antagonist.
Soon the graceful stern of the galleon resembled a woodseller's
booth. Splinters of timber were flying at almost every shot.
"Stick to it, my lads!" shouted my father. "'Tis more than they can
stomach. Another ten rounds and we'll make them cry halt."
This seemed likely to be the case, for the Spaniards, finding that
their stern-chasers did not avail, had ceased firing. Yet they had
not surrendered, for when one of our shots carried away the ancient
from the staff another was instantly hoisted on a pole, and lashed to
the stump of her mizzen-mast.
Suddenly there was a tremendous crash, accompanied by the shattering
of woodwork and cries of pain, while I felt myself hurled to the deck
by an irresistible rush like a whirlwind.
Yet I was little hurt, for almost instantly I sprang to my feet and
looked around. The first I saw was my father lying in a pool of blood
and two others slain by his side.
His face was set and drawn with pain, and as I ran to him I saw that
his left foot had been carried away at the ankle.
"Tell Coombes to carry on with the matter, Ralph!" he exclaimed. "The
rascals have crippled me. Bring Cox to me----"
The sentence remained unfinished, for, overcome by the pain and the
loss of blood, he swooned.
There was no time for useless lamentations. Giving the first mate my
father's orders, I ran to fetch Cox, who was a skilful leech as far
as seamen went. Together we carried my father below, and, having been
reassured that the wound would not be likely to prove mortal, I
returned to my duty.
The Spaniards had dragged aft an enormous serpentine, and by the
simple expedient of blowing out a portion of their already shattered
stern, were able to train the formidable piece of ordnance upon us
with disastrous effect.
Again they fired, the heavy shot whizzing through our topsail, but
doing no other damage.
"Mark you whence that came?" asked Coombes of the gunner at the
culverin. "I pray you, as you value your life, clap a shot
immediately below it."
Calmly the veteran gunner sighted his piece, whilst his assistant
applied the linstock.
Anxiously we watched the course of our shot, and to our great joy saw
the missile land home fairly beneath the jagged hole that served as a
gun-port. When the flying fragments had fallen, a huge rent extended
from the improvised port almost to the upper rudder-brace. Our shot
had dismounted the long gun, causing it to plunge into the sea.
With that down fluttered the Spanish flag. We cheered lustily, but in
the midst of our exultation we realised that our task was still no
light one. How could we, with our few men, hope to take possession of
a prize carrying perhaps fivescore soldiers in addition to her crew?
CHAPTER XX.
BRINGING IN THE PRIZE.
'TWAS certainly a most perplexing problem, for we dared not board,
neither could we send a boat to take possession, for had we done so,
the Dons could have held our men as hostages and defied us to fire.
Moreover, my father was the only one aboard the pinnace who could
speak Spanish, and he lay unconscious in the hold, whither he had
been taken to be well out of the way of any chance shot that might
strike us.
Finally, we decided to send a boat, and lay hold of the galleon's
quarter. We were then to hail her in English, for we hoped that
amongst her complement some might understand us. Then, if the
surrender was made in good faith, we were to desire the Spanish
captain and three of his officers to board the _Damsel of Lyme_, and
with these important hostages it would be fairly safe to take
possession of the prize.
"Master Roy, 'tis you who must see this through," said Coombes. "If
the officers come off, you must board the prize and take steps to
secure her. Ten men only can be spared."
"Very good," I replied joyfully. "But what can I do with the
galleon?"
"We'll bear you company with the pinnace under shortened sail. If so
be we fall in with another Spaniard, you must leave the prize and get
aboard the pinnace as best you can. Our cargo is too precious to
risk."
Having obtained leave to take Jack Staynton with me, I obtained nine
volunteers to man our cock-boat. Then pulling well out of the direct
line betwixt the two ships, so that we would not impede the fire of
the pinnace should the Dons act treacherously, our men rested on
their oars when within pistol shot of the shattered stern of the _Sol
del Esto_.
For a while there was no audible reply to my hail, though the
bulwarks were lined with olive-skinned faces. Presently an officer
replied that the galleon had indeed surrendered.
"We would that your captain come aboard us," I shouted.
"That, señor, is impossible. Our captain is slain."
Thereupon I asked that five of her officers should be rowed off to
the _Damsel of Lyme_ to prove the sincerity of the declaration of
surrender.
To this the officer demurred, saying that the word of a hidalgo was
sufficient pledge.
"Nay, señor," I replied. "'Twill not pass in England. Personal
security we ask, and must have, otherwise it is my order to tell you
we must open fire once more."
Thereupon the Don promised compliance, and we waited while the
officers were taken in their own boat to the pinnace. Then, having
received a hail from Coombes that we might proceed, we ran alongside
the towering galleon and, making fast our cock-boat, climbed on
board.
It was a strange sight that met our eyes as we gained the deck.
Ranged in lines four deep on the larboard side of the waist were some
of the best veteran soldiers of Spain, for, we afterwards learnt,
they were returning to Flanders, after having been sent thence to
engage in a war with the Indians of New Andalusia.
Dejection, hatred, mortification, and rage were writ plain upon their
faces; yet like lines of polished steel they stood, with their arms
laid before them on the planks, awaiting their captors ten Englishmen
under the orders of a youth of sixteen!
"Roberts," said I to one of the men, "do you go below and examine the
hold. See carefully to it that there be not more than one hatchway."
For most of these galleons have a clean run in their holds from the
cable tier right aft, with only a long hatchway amidships.
The man departed on his errand, and in the meanwhile we made the
remaining officers retire to the great cabin, into which we locked
them, leaving but one, who could speak English passably, to give the
necessary orders to the soldiers and mariners.
Presently Roberts returned with the news that there was but one exit
from the hold, and that there was half a fathom of water over the
ballast. Accordingly, we set the Spanish seamen to work to man the
pumps, and when they had drained the hold, we told the officer to
order his men to go below.
'Twas a harsh course to have to pursue, but 'twas stern necessity.
Had we confined them to the orlop and lower decks the prisoners would
have been a source of trouble to us, since they might have clambered
out of the lower deck ports and attempted--with every chance of
success--to retake the ship.
Ere we secured the troops and seamen under hatches we trained two
pieces of ordnance, crammed with small shot, upon the hold, so that
the prisoners could see that we meant to do our work thoroughly. Here
we stationed a sentry with a lighted port-fire, placing a second at
some distance from him, so that the former could not be surprised and
cut down without the latter being able to raise the alarm.
We then set the ship on a north-westerly course, the _Damsel of Lyme_
keeping well on our quarter. Several times the handy pinnace closed
in, hailing us to make sure that all was well. I learnt that my
father had recovered from his swoon, and was still low from loss of
blood, but otherwise was well on the road to recovery, unless
gangrene or some other disease set in.
Of the nature of the galleon's cargo we could only hazard a guess.
Her papers showed that she carried much treasure, but of what it
consisted or where it was stored we as yet were ignorant. The damage
done by our ordnance was considerable, for in addition to the almost
total destruction of her stern--a circumstance that now caused us
great uneasiness, since a heavy sea would assuredly cause her to
founder--our shot had raked her repeatedly.
Besides the captain, two lieutenants, and the master, twenty-four
soldiers and seamen were slain, while the colonel, two captains, and
an ensign of the _terzae_--for such the Spaniards term a
regiment--twoscore and five of the common troops and seamen were
wounded.
Those who were slightly wounded we passed below, after having
attended to their hurts. The others, many of whom were sore smitten,
were placed forward on the maindeck and secured under lock and key.
On the third day following the capture of the prize the wind dropped,
and by midday it was a flat calm. I therefore took the opportunity of
going on board the _Damsel of Lyme_, leaving Jack Staynton in charge.
I found my father, looking very pale and weak, lying in his bunk in
the cabin.
"Ralph, my son!" he exclaimed, "my sea days are over. An old hulk
with a wooden leg is of no further use 'gainst the Queen's enemies,
so I must be content. If we gain port in safety, there is more than
enough to keep me in comfort. Some day you will benefit by what is
left; but meanwhile, lad, stick to the sea. In spite of its hardships
and perils 'tis a grand life. And now concerning the galleon; what is
the name of her captain?"
"I never found out," I replied. "He was slain in action. Yet I'll see
to it that they hail the prize and ask."
Having asked Coombes to communicate with the _Sol del Esto_, I
returned to my father's side.
"We have done exceedingly well," he continued; "that is to say, as
far as wealth goes. It is in my mind to refit the _Damsel_ on our
return and offer her to Her Majesty, for I am convinced, as I have
been for years past, that the day is nigh when every available vessel
and every able-bodied man will be needed to strike a blow for the
lives and liberties of Englishmen. You are now full grown, and mature
for your years, Ralph, and 'tis meet that you should take command of
the pinnace in my stead. You are not lacking in courage and judgment,
and with an old seaman, on whom you can rely, to act as your mate,
the task will be quite within your powers."
At that moment Coombes came into the cabin with the intelligence that
the name of the late captain of the galleon was Don José da Silva.
"As arrant a rogue as ever trod a deck," quoth my father. "Why, 'tis
the rascal whom Don Iago d'Alvarez persuaded to treacherously slay me
at Rio del Foy. Well, there is one villain gone to his account. Once
I should have rejoiced to have had my fingers at his throat, but time
softens old hatreds. I am glad that he fell in fair fight, and not by
any vengeance of mine. Now get you gone, Ralph, for you have been
absent from your post long enough. Keep sharp watch and ward, for you
have a troublesome handful under hatches."
Shortly after my return on board the prize the wind freshened, so
that even under her scanty canvas the galleon maintained a fair pace.
Yet 'twas an anxious time, for the care and maintenance of three
hundred prisoners and ceaseless vigilance, both within and without,
left us no peace.
At length, by observations we reckoned that the Lizard ought to be
sighted on the following day. When daylight dawned there was a rush
for the foretop of the galleon. We were right, for less than ten
miles away on our larboard bow lay the rugged granite cliffs of
Cornwall.
Almost simultaneously there was a cry of "Sail ho!"
"Whither away?" I asked anxiously.
"On the starboard quarter," replied the look out. "A large vessel
bearing down on us."
Meanwhile the _Damsel of Lyme_, which had been leading by nearly half
a mile, backed her topsail and waited for us to come up.
"Do not bear away from the shore," shouted Coombes. "If yon vessel is
a Spaniard you must run the galleon aground and shift for yourselves.
We'll hold her in play as long as we can, then we'll run for Fowey or
Plymouth."
Accordingly I gave directions for the helm to be put up, and a course
shaped for the iron-bound coast, while the pinnace stood away across
the track of the oncoming stranger.
At all events, I vowed, should she prove a Don, the Spaniards should
never retake their lost galleon.
Presently I saw the _Damsel of Lyme_ fling about and stand in pursuit
of us.
"As you were, Master Roy, as you were!" Coombes shouted, as the
pinnace came within hail. "Steer due east. Yon vessel is the
_Nonsuch_." In less than a couple of hours our consort had fallen
into line.
{Illustration: "HAVE THE SPANIARDS LANDED?" I ASKED. [p. 246.}
Strange to relate, nearly thirty days had elapsed since the gale that
separated us. All that time the _Nonsuch_ and the _Damsel of Lyme_
were shaping a course for home, but had not sighted each other till
within the chops of the Channel.
Two days later our three vessels dropped anchor in Portsmouth
Harbour.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE GREAT ARMADA.
DURING the next few years I took the _Damsel of Lyme_ on several
cruises, all more or less adding to her fame as a swift and daring
privateer, and to the exchequer, both of our Gracious Sovereign and
of our house.
It was a cause of sore regret that my father was compelled to live
ashore, and his active mind chafed under the restraint. Yet, every
time the pinnace returned to port, he would come into Portsmouth and
busy himself with matters concerning her ordering and well-being.
And now at last the danger my sire had long ago foreseen began to
take shape, and the people of England had perforce to recognise that
the danger of a Spanish invasion was no dreamer's fancy.
Thus it came to pass that early in the spring of 1587 Sir Francis
Drake was sent to cruise off the coasts of Spain and Portugal, and
much damage did he do to the ships lying in Cadiz Harbour and the
mouth of the Tagus.
In this expedition I was unable to have a part, greatly to my regret,
for, having offered the service of the pinnace to Her Majesty's
Council, I was ordered to attend a convoy sent from the Thames to the
aid of the Netherlands.
At length, in the month of May 1588, I being then twenty years of
age, news was brought to us that the Great Armada, the outcome of
years of preparation on the part of the King of Spain, had at length
left the Tagus.
Well do I remember the evening on which the portentous news reached
the town of Portsmouth. We were then lying alongside the quay, having
but newly arrived from a lengthy cruise off the Channel Islands. Our
stock of ammunition had been hardly touched, for luck had been
against us, few Spanish ships bound for the Low Countries having
fallen into our hands. But provisions and fresh water were well-nigh
exhausted, and 'twas for the purpose of renewing these necessaries I
had put into the harbour.
Jack Staynton had been my faithful comrade ever since he had been
transferred from the _Nonsuch_ to the expedition in search of the
silver mines of San Luis. He was now a strapping young fellow, not as
tall as I was, but of great breadth of shoulders and as powerful as
an ox.
That evening he and I were pacing the little deck talking of many
things. Our arrival had been unexpected, but, according to custom, I
had dispatched a mounted messenger to Crofton to announce the fact to
my father. Jack had spent the greater part of the forenoon at his
home, and had come on board to superintend the shipment of the stores
that we had been promised ere midnight.
Suddenly our talk was interrupted by the clanging of the great bell
of St. Thomas's--not the usual call to Divine Service, but a wild
tocsin that portended something of great moment.
We could see the townsfolk issue from their houses and hasten towards
the Guildhall.
"Master Matthews will not deliver the provisions while this
excitement lasts," quoth Jack. "Let's ashore, and see what it is
about."
"A fire, perchance, or a riot in the High Street," I replied
cautiously. "Still, if you are of a mind to go, I am with you."
Accordingly we stepped on to the quay and followed the direction
taken by the crowd.
We had not reached the Sign of the Blue Anchor when we were well-nigh
capsized by a stout, red-faced man, who, puffing and blowing, ran as
hard as his short legs would carry him.
"What's amiss, friend?" asked Jack, bringing him up with no light
hand.
"The Spaniards! The Spaniards!" he shouted as loudly as his shortness
of breath permitted. "The murdering villains have landed at Plymouth,
and are marching hither. Let me go, young sir, for I----"
"'Tis bad news, Ralph," said Jack, releasing him. "Once they set foot
in the country our work will be tenfold more difficult."
"Let us hope the news be false," I replied. "But here is the High
Street, and methinks the news has already been announced."
As we entered the crowded street we found knots of white-faced,
excited people discussing the news. Some were wending their way
homewards, but, for the most part, the townsfolk were standing in
groups all across the narrow thoroughfare.
"Tell us, comrade. Did we hear aright? Have the Spaniards landed?" I
asked, addressing a burly man dressed in the uniform of a captain of
the train-band.
"Landed, forsooth! Nay, lad, but 'tis bad enough. They say the great
fleet has at last left the Tagus. The Governor's orders are that
every ship that can carry even the smallest piece of ordnance is to
haste to a rendezvous at Plymouth."
"Of that you are certain?"
"Ay. I was in the foremost of the throng when the Mayor read the
proclamation. See, there is Master Long, the owner and captain of the
armed barque Minx. He is losing no time in the matter."
'Twas no time for ceremony, and Jack, who knew Master Long as an old
townsman, ran after him.
"Ay, lad. Every ship, barque, and pinnace in this port must clear the
harbour ere to-morrow morn, unless they be craven or false to their
country. So fare thee well, Staynton, lad; may we meet in Plymouth
Sound ere Friday night."
"Come on, Ralph!" exclaimed Jack. "We must have the flour and the
water somehow. We'll turn out the crew and fetch it ourselves."
So, returning to the pinnace, we ordered ten of our men to follow us.
The news of the impending danger had preceded us, and the utmost
enthusiasm prevailed amongst the seamen in the ships lying in the
Camber.
"Flour, my masters!" roared Smith, the miller. "Ay, sacks of it, but
ne'er a man to carry it forth. Your men are outside? Well, then, let
them come in and take what they want. Concerning the payment, that
matter can well wait till you return. What, four hundred sacks for
the Enterprise? Ay, good Master Brazenose, I have that and much more,
but, as I have just been telling these gentles, it must be fetched,
for I have none to carry. And you, gossip? Seventy sacks for the
_Pearl_?"
Thus and thus was the worthy miller beset by ship captains eager to
replenish and be off; and 'twas much the same with the other millers
and sellers of food-stuffs in the town.
Such was their loyalty and patriotism that they allowed their stocks
to be cleared out on the understanding that their accompts would be
settled by the Mayor in the case of ships fitted out by private
enterprise, and by the Governor where Her Majesty's vessels were
concerned. I heard afterwards that not a sack nor a quintal had been
charged for but what had actually been taken.
However, we helped ourselves, the seamen staggering back to the
pinnace under the weight of the sacks of flour. The whole town was in
a commotion. Pikemen and musketeers living in private houses were
hastening to their respective posts, buckling on their armour as they
ran, for the rumour that the Dons had landed outpaced the actual
facts. Seamen, escorted by their wives and relations, were rejoining
their ships, and masters of ordnance were serving out powder with a
reckless disregard of danger. Indeed a tumbril of powder on its way
to Quay Gate was exploded by a spark from a torch, causing great
commotion but little damage beyond slaying the three men accompanying
it and the horses drawing the cart.
Never was the work of stowing the cargo of the _Damsel of Lyme_
carried out quicker, for the wind was fair, being from the
north-east, and the tide would serve till after midnight. We all
toiled incessantly, looking upon it as a matter of honour and duty
that the pinnace should clear the harbour almost as soon as any of
the vessels that lay therein.
In the midst of this scene of bustle and excitement a young man of
about twenty years of age, magnificently attired and mounted, rode up
to the edge of the quay and dismounted, a train of nearly twoscore
horsemen, armed with musketoons, following him. By the dust that
enveloped the party from head to foot they had evidently ridden from
afar.
"One hundred pounds! One hundred pounds will I give to the shipman
who will give me and my men a passage," he shouted.
"A passage--whither, sir?" replied the master of a small coaster.
"There be none that sail save for Plymouth."
"Nay, I have made myself misunderstood," said the stranger. "I have
ridden from Winchester to Southampton to find a ship wherein we can
be of service. 'Twas of no avail, so we rode hither. Good marksmen
all, and eager to strike a blow for Queen and country. Come, sirs,
are not a staunch vessel and crew to be hired?"
The stranger made the request in vain. Not a craft was to be
obtained. For days past gentlemen from the neighbouring countryside
had flocked in to serve as volunteers both on the Queen's ships and
those provided by loyal merchants and others, and every available
craft had her full complement.
"We could, at a pinch, do with a leavening of good musketeers,"
whispered Jack.
"Ay, but these men--are they not landlubbers?" I replied.
"They would be lying on their backs ere we cleared Spithead."
"We can but ask," continued my comrade. "'Twould be close
quarters----"
"Do so, then," I replied, for I was in no mood to be hampered with a
crowd of landsmen, e'en though they could handle a musket well. "We
can but take five at the most."
Without waiting to give me time to retract my words, Jack sprang
ashore and spoke to the stranger.
"Only five, sir? Grammercy! Well, 'tis better than nothing at all.
Nevertheless, the sum I have mentioned shall be----"
"Nay," interrupted Jack. "'Tis not a question of money. We are
gentlemen privateers, having the Queen's licence, and are loth to
take payment for a service of this kind. But time presses, sir. If
you are of a mind to adventure yourself with us, you must aboard
within the hour."
The stranger saluted Jack gravely, then bidding his troop to remount,
led the way to the stables of the Three Crowns, which had been
pointed out by one of the bystanders. In less than a quarter of an
hour he was back, attended by four of his musketeers.
"My name, sir," said he, as he held out his hand to me, "is Tom
Slingsby, of Bramdean, near the city of Winchester. These four men I
have brought are good marksmen, and have journeyed upon the sea
aforetimes. Spare us not in any good service, for it is a joyful
thing to be able to attain one's end after so many rebuffs."
"And the rest of your men, Master Slingsby?"
"I have told them to ride on as soon as their horses are refreshed to
Southampton, where my brother has raised a troop of horse. 'Tis a
pity that I had to leave them behind, but one must be thankful for
small mercies, saving your presence."
So saying, Slingsby hurried off to where some of the crew were
stowing the stores in the hold, and, in his doublet and trunks only,
he was soon as hard at work as the rest of us. At length everything
was in order. The ropes were cast off, and half an hour later the
_Damsel of Lyme_ was threading her way westwards, slipping past the
larger and slower vessels with a speed that gave us the liveliest
satisfaction.
The pinnace was certainly crowded, yet men were wanted, and, in spite
of the discomforts, their spirits were high at the thought of the
struggle before them. But the new hands, in spite of their master's
assurance, soon succumbed to seasickness, while even Slingsby's face
wore a ghastly pallor when he sat at table with us.
It so happened that 'twas Jack's turn to keep the first watch, and
our new comrade insisted on sharing the duty, vowing that he could
not sleep through excitement, though I shrewdly suspected 'twas for
another reason. However, having had a last look round, and noting
with great delight that ours was almost the leading vessel of the
fleet, though some had had two hours' start of us, I went below and
was soon sound asleep.
When I went on deck to relieve my comrade we were well on our way
down Channel, the Isle of Portland being on our starboard quarter.
"Ralph, old fellow," said Jack in a low voice, "dost know we have a
baronet aboard the pinnace? This Slingsby is in truth Sir Thomas
Slingsby, of Bramdean. Methought the name was familiar when first he
told us; afterwards I taxed him with it."
"There are many such afloat at this time," I replied. "But how fares
he?"
"Bearing himself gallantly 'gainst fearful odds," replied Jack,
laughing. "Yet he'll be on his back ere we weather the Start, I
trow."
But my companion was in the wrong, for, in spite of the long rolling
motion that we got off that dangerous headland, Sir Thomas Slingsby
contrived to keep up and about, though it cost him a shrewd effort.
When abreast of the Mewstone we overhauled the foremost of our
consorts, and half an hour later the pinnace anchored in the
Catwater, with scarce room to swing, for the anchorage was crowded
with craft of all sizes, from the lordly _Triumph_, of 1100 tons
burthen, down to armed pinnaces of half our size.
Immediately on our arrival Jack and I went ashore to gather tidings
of the state of affairs, for thither the Lord High Admiral, Howard of
Effingham, had repaired to hold a council with his captains and the
Governor of the garrison of Plymouth.
A snow had put into Plymouth that morning from the westward with the
pleasing intelligence that the Spaniards had in truth put to sea, but
a great storm had done them such incalculable damage that the Armada
was compelled to put back, and that all danger for the present was at
an end. Accordingly, a mounted messenger was dispatched to London to
acquaint the Queen's Majesty of the tidings, and to await her orders.
Thus the scare that had brought us pell-mell from Portsmouth fizzled
out, and the combined fleets lay inactive in the Sound and in the
Catwater. Many of us wished that the catastrophe that had overtaken
the Spaniards had not taken place, for, filled with the utmost
ardour, our men were longing to fly at their hated foes.
"I trust, gentlemen, that I may be permitted to remain on board the
_Damsel of Lyme_," said the baronet, as the news of the dispersal of
the Spanish fleet was told him, "for she is a sweet, wholesome craft,
and of such speed that I could not wish to serve aboard a better."
"Since you think thus of her, Sir Thomas," I replied, flattered by
his praise for the little craft that had served me so well, "we are
only too willing----"
"Nay, nay," he interrupted. "Not Sir Thomas, and it pleases you.
Plain Tom Slingsby I must be so long as we ship together. Now, 'tis
not to be supposed that I will suffer my men to be kept here without
full and proper payment----"
"'Tis my turn to call 'nay,' Tom," I exclaimed. "Since we are on a
joint enterprise, not for our private advantage, but for the public
weal, I trust you will forbear to mention such a thing."
"But, on the other hand, 'twas I who begged a passage. Had I been
your guest 'twould have been different. Therefore I must insist on
bearing my share of the expenses----"
"Nay, then," said I impatiently, "you must needs find another craft."
"Grammercy! Dost mean that?" asked Slingsby in dismay.
"In truth I do. Once I take money from you--and I tell you plainly,
'tis needless and distasteful--I become beholden to my paymaster, in
a manner of speaking.... Therefore the matter must end, as I have
said."
"Pardon, Ralph!" exclaimed the baronet, extending his hand. "I meant
no offence. So let us cease quarrelling over this affair of honour.
I'll be your man, and be content to abide with you."
Thus it came about that Sir Thomas Slingsby became one of the crew of
the _Damsel of Lyme_, and a better and braver shipmate we could not
have wished to have.
At length, after days of inactivity, orders came from the Queen that,
since danger of immediate invasion was at an end, the fleet was to
disband, for the drain upon the exchequer was beginning to be
severely felt.
Great was the consternation at this order. The veteran Effingham, the
cool and calculating Raleigh, the dashing fire-eater Drake, and
nearly all the captains of the fleet were perilously near to mutiny,
and, after a council of war, it was decided that the ships should be
maintained by private enterprise, rather than let the Dons take us
unprepared.
Money poured in from all parts of the country, the London merchants
especially providing handsomely towards the upkeep of the fleet, upon
which so much depended.
Sir Francis Drake even went so far as to suggest that, rather than
remain inactive in port, the fleet, or, at least, a goodly portion of
it, should attack the disabled Armada in its native ports, and to
this the Lord High Admiral agreed.
As the _Damsel of Lyme's_ prowess as a swift sailer had already
spread, we had no difficulty in obtaining permission to accompany the
squadron, and before a fresh northerly wind we bore out of Plymouth
Sound, bound for the Tagus.
But luck was against us, for on the very day on which we caught sight
of the dark outlines of Finisterre, the wind, hitherto fair, backed
to the south'ard, and, fearful lest the Spaniard might take advantage
of the breeze that served us so scurvily, and so slip past us
unobserved, the Lord High Admiral gave orders for an immediate return
to Plymouth.
Early in July, owing to conflicting reports concerning our enemies,
Lord Howard divided the fleet into three parts. Twenty good-sized
ships and a complement of pinnaces were to cruise off Scilly under
the veteran Hawkins, the same number under Sir Francis Drake were to
lie off Ushant, while the bulk of the fleet, under the Lord High
Admiral in person, took up a position midway betwixt the two
subdivisions, for, to use Effingham's own words, "The Channel is
another manner of thing than it was taken for; we find it by
experience and daily observation to be one hundred miles over; in all
truth, a large room for us to look unto."
It was to Drake's division we were attached. In common with the other
pinnaces, we were to cruise well to the south'ard, keeping anxious
watch and ward. Should we descry the Spaniards, we were to make all
sail and return to the main division with the news.
Thus day after day and night after night went by in irksome, yet
necessary, watching, with never a sail to be seen save those of our
consorts. Vague rumours that the Spanish ships were still unable to
set sail, and that sickness was making havoc with the crowded crews,
came with persistent regularity, till our Admiral, thinking that,
after all, there was truth in these reports, gave orders for the
fleet to return to Plymouth, leaving five or six swift pinnaces to
patrol the sea betwixt Ushant and the Lizard.
To this tedious yet important duty the _Damsel of Lyme_ was detailed,
and, under the blazing sun, in flat calms and in summer gales, we
kept the sea, watching and waiting, for there was keen rivalry
amongst the scouting craft as to who should be the first to sight the
Great Armada.
On the morning of the 19th of July I had just gone below to snatch a
few hours' rest, when I was called on deck.
The sun had just appeared beyond a bank of dark clouds, but 'twas not
in that direction that my attention was called. Away to the
south-west the horizon was broken by a close line of bellying
topsails, covering a distance of at least seven miles.
"'Tis the Spaniards!" exclaimed Slingsby and I in the same breath.
"Ay," added Jack Staynton. "And mighty close in shore too. They were
to have kept to the French coast, I heard."
"'Tis our luck, and the _Raven's_ and the _Speedwell's_ misfortune,"
I replied, for I knew that our consorts who lay towards Ushant were
confident that theirs would be the honour of bearing news to the
Admiral.
"Clap on all sail!" I shouted, and, in obedience to the order, our
men ran hither and thither, swarming up the ratlines and lying along
the yards. Swiftly the huge spread of canvas was sheeted home, for
hitherto the pinnace had been cruising under easy sail, and,
responding to the call like a sagacious animal, the _Damsel of Lyme_
cleft the waters on her way to Plymouth Sound.
An hour later, and the topsails of our enemies' ships were lost to
sight beyond the horizon; but the fact remained that they were in our
wake, and that in another few hours they would be within view of the
land that it was our purpose to defend with the last drop of our
life's blood.
Soon the familiar outlines of the Lizard stood out clearly against
the cloudless sky, while halfway across Mount's Bay we perceived a
long, low-lying craft heading eastwards under a great press of sail.
"What do you make of her?" I asked, anxiously. "She is not one of our
pinnaces?"
"Nay, she is not of English build," replied Jack. "Yet she is of fair
speed, for we do not seem to shake her off."
"Methinks she gains on us," observed Slingsby. "Yet for our sakes I
hope I am mistaken."
With that we relapsed into silence, keeping our eyes fixed upon the
strange craft. Apparently she had caught a favourable current, or the
wind was stronger nearer in shore, for in spite of my pride in the
speed of the _Damsel of Lyme_, I was bound to admit that my pinnace
had found her match.
Nevertheless I hoped, since both vessels were converging on one
another, that the _Damsel_ would soon be in a position to show her
superiority.
Whatever the strange craft might be, I had determined to take no
risks, so the arms were served out and the ordnance loaded.
"Saving your presence, sir!" exclaimed one of the men, a wiry old
seaman from Bosham, who had only served on board the pinnace for a
month, "I know yon craft. If she carries on she'll put her master's
head into a noose."
"How so?" I asked.
"She's a pirate, sir, commanded by one Thomas Fleming, a Scotsman, of
the port of Leith. She has long been a scourge to our shipping,
though of late years she has taken herself farther off. Yet there is
a price set upon this Fleming's head."
"Perchance he would try conclusions with us," remarked the baronet,
not ill-pleased.
"I would be right willing to oblige him on that matter were it not
that I had more pressing work in hand. But we gain somewhat, I trow."
Both vessels were now abreast and about half a mile apart, but the
favouring breeze that had helped the Scotch vessel to overhaul us had
abated, and we were slowly yet surely forging ahead.
The red Cross of St. George was proudly displayed, yet with apparent
sullenness the long black craft held doggedly on her course.
A round of cheering burst from the throats of our men as the pinnace
drew ahead; but our triumph was shortlived, for with an appalling
crash our maintopmast snapped off close to the hounds, bringing with
it the yard and a jumble of torn canvas and tangled cordage.
Now 'twas the turn for the rogue Fleming to crow, and lustily the
Scots jeered at us. Then, to add to our discomfiture, they hoisted
the St. Andrew's Cross as they crossed our bow.
Stifling my chagrin, I gave orders for the raffle to be cleared away,
but we were hopelessly out of it. Doing a bare league an hour, we
were soon left hull down by the pirate vessel.
It was dark ere we were off Rame Head, for the wind had fallen light.
Suddenly a gleam of fire burst from the bold headland, throwing a
ruddy glow upon the oily sea.
"There's a poor farmer's hayrick gone, I trow!" I heard one of our
men exclaim.
But, as we watched, within a few minutes another blaze shot up, this
time towards the heights above the fishing port of Looe. Then from
the distant Wembury Point a glare illumined the sky, while farther
eastwards a regular chain of fiery points seemed to spring up as if
by magic.
"We are forestalled!" exclaimed Jack. "The news has already reached
home."
"Let us rather rejoice that the tidings have been delivered so
promptly," added Sir Thomas Slingsby.
As we rounded Penlee we espied the lights of six large ships standing
out of the Sound. Already the gallant Effingham was sallying out to
give battle to his formidable antagonists. Instinctively we felt that
this England of ours was about to pass through the greatest ordeal
she had ever yet known, and, pray God, will ever have to undergo.
CHAPTER XXII.
ENGLISH DOGS AND SPANISH BULLS.
IT was nearly one o'clock ere we entered the Catwater and tied up to
one of the quays.
All was bustle and excitement, a constant stream of ships clearing
the port in order to join the half-dozen vessels that the Lord High
Admiral had taken to sea.
I was almost on the verge of despair, for it seemed impossible to
have the repairs executed while the fleet was putting to sea, and
more than once I thought of sailing the pinnace with her topmast
missing, till Jack reasoned with me that 'twas speed on which our
value to the rest of the force depended.
Meanwhile we learnt that 'twas indeed the pirate Fleming who was
first with the news, and that the Admiral had straightway pardoned
him for his past offences 'gainst our shipping, and had in addition
bestowed upon him a suitable reward. For these Scots, though they
look upon us as bad neighbours and their privateers are ever ready to
despoil us at sea, were evidently alive to the fact that the
threatened invasion of England was also a menace to themselves.
The Spaniards, indeed, had proposed that the Scots should ally
themselves 'gainst us and send a force across the Border, while the
Duke of Parma was landing a vast army on the shores of Kent; but the
shrewd northerners would have none of it. On the contrary, they put
their kingdom in a state of defence, and their King wrote to our
Sovereign Lady offering her his aid, not as a foreign prince, but as
a fellow-countryman and a kinsman of near degree.
All this I heard later, but the pressing needs of the pinnace were
foremost in my mind; for I was loth to lie idle in port when our
comrades were joyously on their way to join battle with their
abhorred foes.
Dawn was breaking, yet, though we were ready to fit a new topmast,
none was to be had. Presently an old man, greybearded and bowed in
his legs, came to the edge of the quay and desired to speak with me.
"I am the owner of the pinnace _Pride of Saltash_," he began,
speaking in broad Devonshire. "She lies in the inner basin, having
had four of her planks strained through touching on the Shagstone a
few weeks back. Though I am too old to serve afloat, being sadly
crippled with rheumatism, my son and the crew of my pinnace have gone
with Drake. But, perchance, I can still be of service to my country
and to you. Take the _Pride's_ topmast if 'twill serve your purpose.
If so be you return hither you can unship it at your leisure; but if
'tis lost in fight, well, I know it could not be in a better cause."
Hurriedly pouring out my heartfelt thanks, I called a score of my men
to follow me. Taking an unattended longboat, and assisting the
partly-crippled sea-dog into the stern sheets, we pulled in the
direction of the _Pride of Saltash_.
For the next two hours we worked like men possessed, unreeving the
rigging, sending down divers spars and shrouds till the topmast was
stripped and ready to be taken away. 'Twas a fine piece of timber,
somewhat longer, perhaps, than the one we had lost, but that mattered
little.
Ere six in the morning the topmast was towed alongside the _Damsel of
Lyme_. Whips and tackle were already in position to send the new
topmast aloft, and by ten, having worked for nearly seven hours
incessantly, without having slept at all the previous night, the
pinnace was once more ready for sea.
At five in the afternoon we joined the fleet, now amounting to 120
sail of all sizes, and, keeping well together, we bore westward.
Soon the Armada, in full sail, and keeping the formation of a
half-moon, came slowly into sight.
Their Admiral, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, had been strictly enjoined
to keep to the French coast till he had effected a junction with the
huge fleet of flat-bottomed boats that Parma had gathered together at
the Flemish ports to transport his army across the narrow strait of
Dover, but, hoping to surprise and destroy our fleet as it lay in the
Sound, the Duke had deliberately disregarded his Royal master's
orders.
When, at length, he saw our fleet lying prepared athwart his path,
the Spaniard, being then off the port of Fowey, gave directions for
the original orders to be adhered to, and the vast Armada, a
veritable array of floating castles, stood out towards mid-Channel.
Our Lord High Admiral suffered them to pass, greatly to the disgust
of many of his captains and seamen. Hot-tempered men there were who
were willing and anxious to run their ships alongside their lofty
antagonists and board. But to these counsels Lord Howard turned a
deaf ear, knowing full well that the Armada bore an army on board,
whereas we had none.
Thus the Armada bore onwards, till, having the weather gauge, our
ships followed--at a respectful distance--for night was approaching,
and we were loth to commence an engagement at so late an hour.
We were up betimes on the morning of Sunday, the 20th of July, having
found an opportunity of snatching a few hours' much-needed repose. We
then donned our armour, little knowing that for ten long days we were
to remain so clad, and, going on deck, took a swift survey of our
surroundings.
During the night the enemy's line had been somewhat broken, for his
left had fallen astern, while the top of the right horn, if I may
term it, extended far to leeward. Our fleet, on the other hand, had
kept well together, the Lord High Admiral's ship, the _Ark Royal_,
leading the van.
At nine o'clock we perceived the _Defiance_, a pinnace of about the
same size as our craft, clap on sail and overpass the flagship.
Swiftly closing on the rearmost of the Spanish ships, she hauled to
the wind and discharged her ordnance into the stern of the gigantic
St. Matthew. Then, flinging about ere the Spaniard could reply, the
_Defiance_ sped back to rejoin the fleet, while the firing was taken
up by the _Ark Royal_ and the nearmost of the opposing fleets.
Then the fight became general, and through the dense masses of smoke
that enshrouded the fleets we steered the _Damsel of Lyme_, our men
pouring in a fire as fast as they could load into the lofty floating
castles.
"'Tis hot work!" exclaimed Jack, as a splinter grazed his morion.
"Yet methinks we more than hold our own."
"Ay," I replied; "but how fares it with us? Are many of our men hit?"
for so thick was the drifting smoke above our decks that I could
scarce see the mainmast.
"None, I rejoice to say," replied Jack. "Though their shots are thick
as hail, for the most part they carry well overhead. Much of our top
hamper is cut away, I fear."
For several hours the cannonading continued, our proportionately
smaller craft hanging tenaciously to every ungainly Spaniard that
fell out of line. 'Twas like a pack of English bulldogs dragging down
a hull, with his fellows standing by, yet forbearing to come to his
assistance; for though in a few cases the Duke of Medina Sidonia sent
aid to those of his ships that had dropped astern, the majority were
left to their fate.
Already the battle had become a running fight, for the Spaniards,
hotly assailed and unable to turn to windward with ease, crowded on
all possible sail. The wind had now risen, partially dispersing the
smoke, and with it the sea was beginning to run high, the regularity
of the waves being broken by the presence of so many ships.
Suddenly Slingsby, who was in command of our little fo'c'sle, shouted
that we were bearing down upon a large Spanish galleon.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE FIRESHIPS.
ALTERING the helm, we shot past the battered wreck that the baronet
had descried through the smoke.
Her stern galleries had been well-nigh swept away, and her lofty poop
well-nigh battered out of existence. Her fore and mizzen mast had
gone by the board, while her mainmast was tottering, all in spite of
great and well-pitched cables that had been woolded from deck to tops
for their protection against our ordnance. Her planks were pitted by
our shot; in many cases two portholes had been knocked into one;
while as she rolled we could discern several shot-holes 'twixt wind
and water.
She had apparently been deserted by her crew, so, deeming it needless
to take possession of her (since she was bound to be picked up or
drift ashore unless she sank), we let her go by, as did likewise the
rest of the fleet nearest to her.
All night the combat continued, and the following day found us still
hard at it.
"The Admiral is signalling us!" exclaimed Jack, for the pinnaces of
the fleet were given orders to keep well within call of the flagship,
so as to be available for any detached duty.
Running under the stern of the _Ark Royal_, we were told to stand
away to the eastward, whither Sir Francis Drake had gone with three
ships to make certain of two great galleons that had been disabled
but were still offering resistance.
The five vessels were hotly engaged about three leagues to windward,
and, though badly cut about aloft, our pinnace made short work of the
beat up. But barely had we covered half that distance when we found
that the crippled galleon we had suffered to drop astern on the
previous evening was not, after all, deserted. Her crew were engaged
in rigging jury-masts, with the evident intention of slipping away
from capture. By the time we came up with Sir Francis the fight that
he was conducting was over, and the red cross floated proudly over
the Spanish colours.
Having reported ourselves and given the Lord High Admiral's message,
we informed Sir Francis of the happenings aboard the supposed
deserted galleon. Drake himself came to the entry-port of the
Revenge.
"Do you stand over and bid them surrender, Master Roy," said he.
"Tell them that if I myself am put to the trouble of attending to
this matter they will be sorry for it."
So away we went, hoisting a white flag topmast high, and, ranging up
within pistol shot of the disabled galleon, demanded instant
surrender.
In answer to my summons a tall, gaunt figure clad in complete armour,
standing at the head of the shattered poop-ladder, replied:
"I am Don Pedro Valdez, an hidalgo of Spain, and I deem it a slur
upon mine honour to surrender, since I have five hundred men on
board."
"So be it," I replied. "You may yield or not, as you choose, but I
give you fair warning that I bear my message direct from the mouth of
Sir Francis Drake."
I had barely mentioned that famous Admiral's name ere there was a
rush to the after end of the galleon, and ere I could grasp its
significance the banner of Castile and Leon fluttered down from the
staff.
With that we returned to the Revenge with the news that the very name
of the Vice-Admiral had been enough to make the Spaniards strike
their flag.
Smiling grimly at this flattery, Sir Francis thanked us, and
thereupon ordered three boats to take possession of the galleon and
send her into Plymouth. This time we bore away and regained the main
fleet.
Meanwhile our ships were performing unparalleled feats of valour
'gainst the might of Spain's Armada. Still holding towards Calais,
the would-be invaders of our shores continued to keep us at bay,
though, according as opportunity offered, we cut off and either
captured or sunk every Spaniard that lagged behind the rest of the
fleet.
Thus day after day went by with almost incessant cannonading, till
our ships had expended nearly all their powder. So the _Damsel of
Lyme_ was one of the pinnaces detailed to put into Portsmouth and
procure ammunition to replenish the fleet.
How we were surrounded and eagerly questioned as we moored alongside
the well-known quay! But there was scarce time for conversation,
important though the news was, for the dangerous yet precious stuff
had to be taken aboard with all haste.
Ere night we had rejoined the fleet, and were instantly beset with
boats clamouring for powder for their parent ships.
On the twenty-seventh day of the month, the Spaniards being then near
the Goodwins, we perceived a large Venetian ship in difficulties near
the western portion of those dreaded shoals. Thereupon the Admiral
ordered three pinnaces to stand in and cripple her ere she could
extricate herself from her dangerous position.
This was our opportunity, and, supported by the _Defiance_ and
_Alarm_, we stood into shallow water, putting the stranded vessel
betwixt us and the rest of the Armada.
"Do you shoot away her rudder," I ordered the gunner at our culverin,
knowing that if she floated on the rising tide she would then be
still helpless.
Our sakers were to fire at her quarter, for owing to the slight heel
nearly six feet of the bulging hull below her water-line was visible.
Sir Thomas Slingsby and his musketeers, aided by as many of our crew
as could be spared, were to maintain a steady fire at any of the
Spanish soldiers who showed themselves above the bulwarks.
Without receiving a single shot in return, all three pinnaces began
pounding the hapless ship of Venice, till 'twas certain that she
would never float more.
"This is butcher's work," quoth Slingsby disdainfully. "A fair
exchange of shot would be more to my liking."
As he spoke there was a rush and a roar like the burst of a
thunderclap, and amidst a hideous clatter our gear aloft rattled down
upon our deck. In the midst of the confusion I saw the baronet clap
his hand to his shoulder, spin round twice, then fall heavily across
the carriage of the culverin.
The Spaniards, waiting till we were well within range--for, gaining
confidence at their apparent timidity, we had run in fairly close
--let loose a whole broadside at us, ignoring almost entirely the
_Defiance_ and the _Alarm_, that, farther out, were directing their
fire at the enemy's fo'c'sle.
Two seamen lifted the baronet from the gun-carriage and placed him
under the shelter of the bulwarks. More they could not do, for 'twas
a case of plying our ordnance and clearing away our wreckage if we
were to save ourselves from drifting down upon our formidable
antagonist.
"Let her have it, men!" I shouted to the gunners, while others of our
crew, scorning the hail of shot, great and small, that flew all
around us, swarmed up aloft to free the pinnace from the tangle of
top-hamper; for the mainmast, shot away twelve feet from the deck,
had carried the foretopmast with it, the latter still remaining
attached to the lower mast by a network of twisted ropes.
In spite of our efforts I saw that the pinnace was slowly yet surely
drifting down upon the Spanish ship. Gallantly the _Defiance_ stood
in to attempt to tow us off; but she, too, sustained such a
punishment, losing her bowsprit and having her foreyard cut asunder,
that she was compelled to sheer off to avoid sharing the fate that
threatened us.
Then the _Alarm_ bravely dashed in, and succeeded in passing a hawser
to us, but ere she could gather way and take us in tow a heavy shot
cut the stout rope in twain.
There remained but one course open to us. We must anchor under fire
and trust that no hostile ship might sever our hempen cable. Smartly
the anchor was let go, and our men once more stood to their guns,
hoping that the Admiral would send some of the larger ships to beat
down the fire of our gigantic foe; otherwise we resolved to fight to
the last.
Suddenly from beyond the stern of the Venetian ship a long galley
leapt forward upon us. She was crowded with soldiers, who were
preparing to board us. Unable to alter our position, we were fairly
trapped.
The discharge of our sakers checked the oncoming vessel for a brief
instant, then, regardless of the fire of our consorts, the other two
pinnaces, the galley ran alongside us, and threescore pikemen and
musketeers of Spain, discarding their unwieldy weapons for swords and
pistols, sprang upon our decks.
Several of our men went down before the determined rush, and, seeing
the impossibility of resistance, the sorry remainder of us sought
refuge in the hold, where we maintained a sharp fire whenever a steel
casque or an iron pot appeared above the coamings.
In my rage and frenzy, for I was bleeding from a sword cut over the
head, I was for firing the powder and sending friend and foe to a
common destruction, but my men were all against this, saying that
even yet we might be rescued by the larger ships. Even at that moment
of distress, with the hated Spaniards in possession of the deck of
the _Damsel of Lyme_, I could not help recalling my refusal to
execute Captain Cleat's order to destroy the pinnace; yet here I was
for doing the very thing that in that instance I steadfastly declined
to do.
"Very well, then," said I. "Here we'll stand and fight to the last."
Finding that they were unable to dislodge us by discharging their
arquebuses and petronels into the hold, and losing many men in the
attempt, the Spaniards desisted, and by the sounds on deck I knew
they were about to slip the cable and tow the pinnace away.
Therein they were foiled, for so hot was the fire from the other
pinnaces that no man durst make his way for'ard to let go the
restraining rope.
With that they returned to the attack upon the hold, throwing down
burning tow with the idea of smoking us out. The air grew so foul
that we were soon gasping for breath, and we called to one another to
sally out and die like men rather than be smothered like rats in a
hole.
This we were about to do, when above the thunder of the ordnance rose
a hearty English cheer. Pistols cracked, and the crash of muskets
added to the din. As we dashed frantically from the smoke-laden hold
we saw the Spaniards flying headlong to their galley, while over the
side of the _Damsel of Lyme_ poured a crowd of resolute English
seamen. In the very nick of time the Admiral had sent six longboats
to drive off our attackers.
This much I saw, then, reeling from the effects of my wound and the
stifling smoke, I fell senseless upon the deck of the craft which I
had all but lost.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE LAST OF THE _DAMSEL OF LYME_.
WITHIN an hour or so I was up and about, though feeling faint and
dizzy from the result of the struggle. My head was swathed in a
bandage, while a stiffness in my leg revealed the fact that 'twas
bruised from thigh to knee.
Jack Staynton had come off lightly, though an arquebus ball had
ploughed a furrow through his close-cropped hair, and a pike-thrust
had rent his sleeve from elbow to shoulder, where his back-plate had
stopped the steel. Jack had promptly spitted his antagonist with a
rapier, but, as he said, 'twas close enough to suit him.
As for Sir Thomas Slingsby, he fared the worst of all three, for in
addition to the petronel ball that had lodged in his shoulder, a
musket bullet had expended itself against his steel casque
sufficiently hard to render him senseless.
While lying thus, one of the boarders, seemingly out of sheer lust of
cruelty, had run him through the body with a sword. Yet in spite of
these injuries the baronet still breathed, and the Admiral's own
chirurgeon, worthy Master Green, expressed his opinion that Slingsby,
being a hard and clean living man, he stood a fair chance of
recovery. Of the crew of the _Damsel of Lyme_ only nine remained
unscathed. Eleven had fought and died with their faces to the foe,
while the rest of us, all more or less badly wounded, had been
transferred to the already crowded cockpit of the _Ark Royal_.
Then I bethought me of the pinnace. "Jack, where is she?" I asked,
fearful lest he should be compelled to tell me that she had sunk.
"But half a league astern," he replied. "Bear on me and let's on
deck, and you will see her with your own eyes."
With this we made our way over and betwixt broken gear and dismounted
guns that encumbered the deck and gained the shot-shattered bulwarks.
The running fight had ceased. To leeward, sheltering in Calais roads,
lay the bulk of the Great Armada, the large galleons and galeases at
anchor nearest to us, like strong castles fearing no assault, with
the galleys in the middle ward and the pinnaces and flat-bottomed
craft, that were to ferry Parma's army across the Straits, lying
close in shore.
We could see their crews busily engaged in making good the damage
aloft, for we knew that 'twas Medina Sidonia's intention to put to
sea to attack us as soon as this work was done, and that while we
were thus held in play, the Spanish army of well-disciplined veterans
would be embarked and taken across to Dover or Sandwich.
Well to windward of our fleet I perceived a group of small vessels
with their masts shot wholly away, others in a more or less damaged
state, and amongst them I recognised the _Damsel of Lyme_.
The heavy mauling she had received had not marred the graceful sheer
of her hull, but, withal, she was so cruelly punished that I knew she
would never be fit to take her place in action for many a long day,
and I communicated my fears to my trusty comrade.
"Nay, Ralph," he replied, "you'll never stand on her decks again, I
trow. This night the Admiral sends her on her last voyage."
"What say you?" I asked anxiously. "Is she unseaworthy, and must be
got rid of as an encumbrance to the fleet? Alack-a-day, Jack, 'tis
hard."
"She'll be sunk, sure enough, Ralph, but in the midst of the enemy.
Lord Howard has chosen these vessels you see yonder to carry fire
into the midst of those Spaniards yonder. The wind is fair. Each of
these six craft will be smothered in pitch and tar and crammed to the
hatchways with oil, brimstone, sulphur, and what else will take fire
with ease. Captain Young, assisted by Captain Prowse, will steer them
as close to the enemy as they durst, then, setting their vessels on
fire, will trust to wind and tide to bear them into the midst of the
Spaniards' ships."
"Then the _Damsel of Lyme_ is well spared, Jack," I replied.
{Illustration: "WE HAD PLAYED OUR PART." [ p. 295.}
For a few moments I remained lost in thought, then, turning suddenly,
I exclaimed:
"I must take my own pinnace on her last voyage, Jack."
"Nay," he replied, "'tis impossible. You can scarce stand. Besides,
the Lord High Admiral has made all arrangements for the crews of
these vessels."
With that I left him, and, pulling myself together so that my
weakness should not be apparent, I made straight for the cabin of my
Lord Howard of Effingham.
At the door I was met by an officer, who demanded my name and
business, and after a short delay I was ushered into the presence of
the Lord High Admiral.
I found him seated at a table which was covered with charts and plans
and the remains of a hasty meal. Bending over a chart of Calais Roads
were Vice-Admiral Hawkins and Captains Young and Prowse, the two
latter being chosen as first and second in command of the fireships.
"Your business, sir?" asked Lord Howard, for I had only stated to the
officer outside my name and rank.
Briefly I expressed my wish, but to my chagrin the Admiral stopped me
with a gesture.
"Nay, young sir, the matter is already planned out."
"But, my lord!" I exclaimed, "the _Damsel of Lyme_ is my own
craft----"
"Your own craft, sirrah? Know you that in time of war there is no
such thing as So-and-so's ship? If, for example, I, as Lord High
Admiral, chose to destroy one of the ships of the Free Companies of
London for the well-being of the realm, who would dare to say me nay?
Much as I admire your devotion and duty and your proper love for your
command, I cannot go back upon my orders."
With that I thanked my Lord of Effingham and withdrew, sorrowfully
enough in all conscience, for already another was without requesting
an audience.
"'Tis of no avail!" I exclaimed dismally, as I rejoined Jack upon the
quarter-deck.
"Said I not so?" he replied; then, consolingly, he added: "Well,
Ralph, perhaps 'tis for the best, and in any case we can watch and
see how nobly the _Damsel of Lyme_ bears herself to the end."
We remained talking for the space of about five minutes, when a
messenger came up to us requesting me to instantly repair to my Lord
Howard of Effingham's cabin.
"Methinks you may have your wish, Captain Roy, after all," said the
Admiral. "Master Welsh, who was to take the _Damsel of Lyme_, has
been gravely injured whilst engaged in preparing the pinnace for this
night's work. See hither," tapping the chart that lay open before
him, "do you know the approach to Calais Roads?"
"My father was a Royal pilot, my lord----"
"Nay," he exclaimed irritably. "Forbear to discuss the virtues of
your family. Do you know this port?"
"And 'twas he who taught me much concerning the Channel," I
continued, determined not to detract from my parent's knowledge. "I
can truly claim to have a sound cognizance of this coast."
"'Tis well," replied Lord Howard; but far from taking my word alone,
he straightway questioned me concerning the Banc a la Ligne, the
Rouge Riden, the Dunkerque shoals and other dangers lying off the
port of Calais, as well as to the set of the tides at various hours
betwixt the two consecutive high tides.
"That will do, Captain Roy!" he exclaimed. "You can proceed aboard
the _Damsel of Lyme_--your pinnace, mark you--and take your orders
from this gentleman, Captain Prowse."
Overjoyed, I thanked the Admiral and withdrew, feeling almost my
former self already. Ere Captain Prowse left the flagship I sought
his permission to take three of my crew in place of the men already
on board, since they knew the vessel, and would the better carry out
my orders. To this he consented willingly.
"I trust that I may be one of the three," said Jack. "We have been
together in times of storm and danger these five years, so it is meet
that I should share this venture with you."
Without a word I gripped his hand, then, having selected two tried
and trusted men from the survivors of my crew, we entered the
longboat that awaited us.
On board the _Damsel of Lyme_ all preparations for the daring attack
had been completed. She was a veritable floating oil-store, while, in
addition, her three guns were loaded and crammed to their muzzles
with pieces of iron, short lengths of chain, steel bars, and, in
fact, any metal that could be rammed home.
At two hours before midnight we slipped our cables, and, having
passed through the English fleet, formed into a single line, eight
ships in all. Each carried but its foretopsail, except the _Damsel of
Lyme_, which, having lost her topmast, set her fore course only.
Having the wind dead astern and a rising tide, it mattered little
whether the vessels were steered or not, since with this canvas they
kept straight towards their goal.
Ahead we saw the gleam of our foes' poop-lanthorns like the lights of
a vast floating city, for, deeming themselves in perfect security,
the Spaniards took no precautions either to screen them or to send
out row-boats to patrol outside their crowded lines.
Nearer and nearer we drew, still unperceived by our antagonists, till
we were within culverin shot of the outer line of ships.
Just as I was remarking to Jack that 'twas time we were discovered, a
vivid flash leapt from the side of one of the galleons, so that the
rest of the ships were visible as if in the gleam of lightning. The
shot fell wide, passing betwixt us and the pinnace on which was
Captain Young.
Instantly the firing was taken up by the remaining ships that were
lying in a favourable position to use their broadsides, and a storm
of missiles flew all around us, churning up the water and knocking
splinters from our already shattered sides.
To this I paid scant heed, keeping my eyes fixed upon the pinnace
Daisy, from which Captain Prowse was to give the signal to fire the
ships of his command.
"There it goes!" I shouted, as a red light was shown above the
bulwark of the Daisy, which during the last quarter of an hour had
forged somewhat ahead of us. "Into the boats, lads."
Smartly the two men dropped over the poop into a boat that was being
towed astern. Jack waited till I had lighted a brand from a concealed
lanthorn in the cabin. I gave one last look at the place that had
been my home, then, running to the main-hatch, I dropped the flaming
torch into the hold.
For a few rounds it spluttered, the oily tow caught, and a flame shot
up nearly a score feet into the air.
We had played our part. It now remained to save ourselves--if we
could.
Down into the waiting boat we dropped, the painter was severed, and
the four of us, taking an oar apiece, pulled for our lives.
Shots fell thick around us, till the boat was well-nigh filled with
the water they threw up. A roar of exultation burst from the Spanish
ships, for our foes concluded that they had succeeded in setting fire
to their attackers. But ere long their shouts of triumph changed to
cries of terror, when they perceived that the burning was not their
doing, but that eight floating pillars of fire were drifting down
upon them.
We were now fairly safe from the falling shot, so, resting on our
oars, we allowed ourselves to gaze upon the scene of destruction. The
glare of the flames made night as clear as day. The Spaniards,
huddled together so that scarce a vessel had swinging room, were
trying to clap on sail, slipping or cutting their cables as they did
so, at the same time shouting, yelling, and crying out in their
terror like men possessed.
Even in that, to us, magnificent scene I felt impelled by some
irresistible desire to follow the course of the _Damsel of Lyme_.
Sheeted in flame from stem to stern, she bore on as steadily as if
guided by the helm, till her shattered foremast, wreathed with
tongues of fire, went by the board.
Then, filling broadside on to the wind, she dropped alongside two
huge galleons which, in the act of unmooring, had fouled each other.
I could see their frenzied crews trying to ward off the impending
danger, till, scorched by the flames, they withdrew. I seemed to hear
above the roar of the floating furnaces the dull grinding crash as
the pinnace brought up against her victims. There she lay, glowing
fiercely, till the flames had taken full hold upon her giant victims.
Then amid a lurid flash, a smother of sparks, and a dense column of
smoke, the gallant pinnace sank beneath the waves, two proud galleons
of Spain serving as her funeral pyre.
The _Damsel of Lyme_ had made her last voyage.
CHAPTER XXV.
IN THE QUEEN'S PRESENCE.
UTTERLY worn out, we returned to the _Ark Royal_. As in a dream I
heard the Lord High Admiral bestow words of praise upon us, after
which we went below and slept soundly, even though the combat was
fiercely renewed, for finding the Spaniards in hopeless terror and
confusion, orders were given for the whole of our fleet to be let
loose upon them.
During the next and the following day the fight raged, till, beaten
from pillar to post, for the Hollanders sent a large fleet to aid
against our mutual foes, the Spaniards bore away northwards in full
flight.
But our work was not yet done. Doubtless the Spaniards hoped to find
shelter for their shattered fleet in the waters of the Firth of
Forth, and confidently hoping that he might entrap and destroy them,
the Lord High Admiral decided to press on in pursuit with the main
body of our ships.
It was after the council of war at which the plan was adopted that
Lord Howard of Effingham sent for me.
"Captain Roy," quoth he, "it is my purpose to send a swift vessel
into the Thames to bear the tidings of our victory to Her Most
Gracious Majesty. You I have chosen for that mission. Here is a
letter to be delivered into the hands of the Queen's Most Excellent
Majesty. Now get you gone."
Here was good fortune indeed. I was to be spared the tedious chase of
a beaten foe, and, instead, was to be the harbinger of victory to the
Queen in person.
Right joyfully I boarded the _Distaff_ a swift armed merchantman,
which immediately set sail for the Thames.
As soon as we were fairly on our way I stripped off my armour and
powder-blackened clothing, and eased my limbs in a hot bath, for I
was so stiff that I could scarce move without giving vent to a groan.
Then a skilful leech, who had himself been wounded on board the
_Nonpareil_, rubbed me with a sweet-smelling oil, that greatly eased
the stiffness. The owner of the _Distaff_--a silk mercer, who had
thrown aside his ell-rod to take up a sword in the defence of his
country, and served on board his own ship--most kindly provided me
with a complete change of raiment, so that I looked more like a court
gallant than a seasoned and hard-handed mariner.
With our pennons and streamers spread bravely to the breeze, the
_Distaff_ passed Tilbury, where we saw the tents of the army that had
been raised for the defence of the capital, and I thanked God that
the soldiers had not been called upon to fight. For, although they
were brave and resolute, I am not sure whether they would have held
their own against the highly disciplined veterans of the Duke of
Parma. However, 'twas over, and we had seen the last of the Spanish
galleons off our shores for ever and aye, I trust.
Having picked up a favouring tide off Gravesend, and a free wind
aiding us, we quickly sailed up to London Pool.
Although we had lost no time, the news of our glorious victory had
preceded us, and the City was one blaze of colour flags and gay
hangings being displayed everywhere--while the streets were thronged
with joyous crowds, cheering and singing to the strains of music,
till it seemed as if Bedlam had been let loose.
Making my way through the crowd that lined the wharf for, knowing
that we had come direct from the fleet, and anxious to gather more
tidings, they pressed around till they were in danger of pushing each
other into the water--I obtained a horse and rode to Whitehall.
Though 'twas yet early, being but ten o' the clock, Her Majesty had
already received Burleigh, Walsingham, and others in audience; and,
on announcing my errand, I was ushered into the Royal presence.
The Queen almost snatched the letter as I knelt before her, and
thrust it under the nose of the aged Lord Burleigh, bidding him read
it forthwith. But the veteran minister, being at pains to decipher
the Lord High Admiral's crabbed fist, halted so much that Her
Majesty, in her anxiety to hear the tidings, tore the parchment from
him and gave it to Walsingham.
The moment Secretary Walsingham began to read all signs of emotion
vanished from the Queen's face. Stern, almost masculine in
appearance, she sat, rigid as if graven in stone, till Walsingham had
completed the reading of the letter; then, calling upon the Dean of
St. Paul's, she bade him straightway offer up a prayer of
thanksgiving for the glorious victory over her enemies.
Then the wave of impetuosity returned, and with many strong
expressions, more befitting a war-worn veteran than a Queen, she bade
one write to her cousin of Scotland, bidding him take proper measures
to guard his shores; another had to draft a letter to the Stadtholder
of Holland, thanking him for the assistance rendered by the fleet of
the Republic, and another to the Lord High Admiral, expressing her
gratification at the good news.
"And, beshrew me, what of the army at Tilbury? How can I suffer them
to remain there, eating off their heads in idleness? Give orders that
they be forthwith disbanded, for 'tis a great drain upon the revenue
of the State. And the fleet, my Lord of Burleigh? Seeing that the
danger is now past, is it not meet and right that most of the ships
should return to be laid up forthwith?"
Thus the Queen fell to giving orders with a most scrupulous regard
for the public chest, though I could not help thinking 'twas a
somewhat hasty and parsimonious proceeding, for though the Spaniards
were in full flight northwards, we knew not but what they might rally
and make another attempt upon the flat, unguarded shores of
Lincolnshire or Norfolk.
However, that was a matter on which I could form an opinion yet durst
not voice it; so after I had delivered up the Admiral's letter, I
withdrew to a corner of the council-chamber, although I dared not
take my leave until I was dismissed.
At length Walsingham spoke again.
"Madam," said he, "there is a postscript from my Lord Howard of
Effingham, desiring to bring to your notice one Captain Ralph Roy, by
whose hand these presents were brought hither," and he straightway
read the Lord High Admiral's version of my small achievements couched
in words that made my ears tingle with pride.
"Then let us see this doughty sea-captain," exclaimed Her Majesty.
"Desire him to stand forth."
As in a dream I advanced once more, and knelt before my Sovereign.
"Beshrew me!" she exclaimed. "Is this the captain of whom he speaks?
Methought 'twas a gilded popinjay, one of Effingham's fawning
minions, who brought us the news. A mere youth clad like a court
gallant! Have I heard aright?"
The Queen spoke tartly, with such an expression of scorn that I felt
my knees tremble as I knelt, and I bemoaned the fact that I had
discarded my harness and soiled clothes.
"May it please your Gracious Majesty," I exclaimed desperately, "but
these are indeed borrowed garments. For days past I had lived without
change of raiment, my clothes reeking with powder, and in my armour,
dented and rusty with hard knocks and the stain of the salt seas."
Then, speech failing me, for I was never apt with my tongue, I knelt,
wondering what would happen next.
"Your Majesty, might I be permitted to testify to this young man's
bravery?" exclaimed a voice that I recognised as that of Sir Henry
Radclyffe, the Governor of Portsmouth, who, though I knew it not, had
lately been created Earl of Sussex.
"Say on, then, Sussex," commanded the Queen, and straightway my
champion related how I had assisted in bringing in the great galleon
_Sol del Esto_, and that previous to the sailing of the Great Armada
I had rendered good service against the Spaniards.
"An excellent record for one so young," quoth the Queen, and, taking
a sword from the hands of one of her courtiers, she forthwith tapped
me across the shoulder, saying, "Arise, Sir Ralph Roy."
Here my story ends, though I continued to sail the salt seas, having
gotten a wholesome little craft, larger than the _Damsel of Lyme_;
but withal, I had not the same pride in her as I had in the brave
little pinnace that had served her country so well. Of the
expeditions to the Groyne, Cadiz, and the Bay of Cezimbra I could say
much, having taken a part in all three, but there is time and place
for all things.
As for my staunch comrade, Jack Staynton, he, too, bore himself right
valiantly in the after issues 'gainst our natural foes. At length,
his restless spirit prompted him to engage upon an expedition to the
vast and almost unknown Pacific, and though I have had no tidings of
him these two years, I doubt not that his courage and natural
sagacity, combined with the firm belief in the workings of a Divine
Providence, will in due time bring him safely home.
Sir Thomas Slingsby--Tom, as he insisted upon my calling
him--recovered from his wounds, though not in time to take a further
part in the chase of the Armada. When at rare intervals his heavy
duties in London Town permit him to journey to his country seat at
Bramdean, I always seize the opportunity of visiting my old
comrade-in-arms, and we fight our battles o'er again.
But one incident must I relate ere I bring my story to a close.
Having occasion to put into the port of Bordeaux, I was invited by a
courteous captain in the service of King Henry IV. of France to
inspect a new galley under his command. He showed me how the
miserable slaves were ordered merely by a gesture and the notes of
his silver whistle. There were, I should say, nearly a hundred of
these wretches, having their heads shaven close, and wearing only a
pair of canvas drawers apiece. They were doubly chained about their
waists and legs, in pairs, the fetters being fastened to the thwarts
on which they sat, lived, and slept, while up and down a narrow
gang-plank walked a stalwart seaman, armed with a cruel-thonged whip,
which he did not hesitate to use, often without the smallest
provocation.
Suddenly I caught sight of a face that seemed familiar, and, in spite
of his shaven head and toil-racked frame, I recognised the villainous
Captain Don Iago d'Alvarez.
The recognition was mutual, but such a piteous look of appeal did he
give me that my compassion went out to him, hardened rogue that he
was. I learnt afterwards from the French captain that the rascal had
been captured in the act of despoiling a harmless merchantman of
Nantes, and had been straightway condemned to the galleys for life.
Before I took my leave I obtained a promise from my entertainer that
the hard lot of Don Iago would be lightened as far as 'twas in his
power to do so.
Thus are the high and mighty put down from their seats, and the meek
and humble exalted; and so it is with princes and kingdoms.
So, too, I rejoice to think that this England of ours has been raised
above the perils and dangers that beset her in those bygone days,
when I bore my small share in the struggle 'gainst the might of
Spain.
THE END.
_Printed by_
MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED
_Edinburgh_
SOME ATTRACTIVE VOLUMES FROM THE
CATALOGUE OF THE PILGRIM PRESS.
==========
+_SPLENDID SELECTION OF BOOKS FOR BOYS._+
+_ROBERT LEIGHTON'S ROMANCES._+
WITH NELSON IN COMMAND.
A Tale of Nelson and the Baltic. With Illustrations. Imperial
16mo, cloth boards, olivine edges, +3s. 6d.+ [_Third Edition._
_Morning Post_.--"The reader obtains a good idea of Nelson's
character, while the condition of the eastern counties of England
at a time when smuggling was rife and the pressgang won men for
the Navy is described with accuracy. The story itself goes with a
swing and dash which make it excellent reading, and if the young
hero's promotion to the quarter-deck is rapid, he certainly won
it manfully."
_Nautical Magazine_.--"While the historic narrative of the Battle
of the Baltic is carefully adhered to throughout, the story lends
an element of excitement and charm which makes us forget we are
reading history. The book is a splendid one for boys."
THE GREEN PAINTED SHIP.
A Romance of the Sea. With Illustrations by J. W. CHARLTON.
Imperial 16mo, cloth boards, olivine edges, +3s. 6d.+
[_Second Edition._
_Daily Telegraph_.--"A mutiny, an abandoned ship, the discovery of
a pirate's hoard of treasure, and many exciting episodes, go to
make up a story after the British boy's own heart, and one that
fully maintains its author's reputation as a writer of stirring
and exciting tales."
HURRAH FOR THE SPANISH MAIN.
A Tale of the Days of Drake. Illustrated by J. AYTON SYMINGTON.
Imp. 16mo, cloth boards, olivine edges, +3s. 6d.+
_Guardian_.--"Boys should, and will, be grateful for an excellent
story of peril and adventure."
_Methodist Recorder_.--"We can hardly imagine the boy to whom its
stirring pages will not appeal."
THE OTHER FELLOW: THE MYSTERY AT BARRACOMBE MANOR.
Illustrated by SAVILLE LUMLEY. +6s.+
_Standard_.--"There is plenty of sensation, but it is of a healthy
kind, and the detective interest is very skilfully managed. We
should not be surprised if the book were to be one of the
favourites of the season."
THE HAUNTED SHIP.
A Romance of the Devon Smugglers. With Six full-page Illustrations
by H. L. SHINDLER. Imperial 16mo, cloth, olivine edges, +3s. 6d.+
[_Second Edition._
_St. James's Gazette_.--"Everything that a boy's book ought to be,
and seldom is."
_Expository Times_.--"From beginning to end it is exciting, and
the hairs-breadth escapes of its hero will delight all its
readers."
--------------
16 PILGRIM STREET, LONDON, E.C.
_THE PILGRIM PRESS._
======
_BOOKS FOR BOYS._
+ROBERT LEIGHTON'S ROMANCES+--_Continued._
IN THE LAND OF JUJU.
A Tale of Boys' Adventures in Benin. With Six full-page
Illustrations by CECIL SCRUBY. Large imperial 16mo, cloth boards,
olivine edges, +3s. 6d.+ [_Second Edition._
"A delightful story, which has, too, a geographical and historical
value."--_Daily Telegraph._
FIGHTING FEARFUL ODDS; OR, THE TEMPTATION OF JACK RODNEY.
With Six full-page Illustrations by J. AYTON SYMINGTON. Imperial
16mo, cloth boards, +3s. 6d.+
"A clever story, interesting throughout, and wholesome in tone."
--_Record_
"Such a story as this is all too rare."--_Spectator._
"There is not a dull page in the book."--_Newcastle Chronicle._
UNDER THE FOEMAN'S FLAG.
A Tale of the Spanish Armada. Illustrated by PAUL HARDY. Imperial
16mo, cloth boards, +3s. 6d.+ [_Second Edition._
"A rattling story, quite one of the best of the year."
--_Daily Chronicle._
"The story is told with great spirit, and is full of excitement
and interest."--_Standard._
IN THE GRIP OF THE CORSAIR.
An historical Romance of the Mediterranean. With Illustrations by
MAYNARD BROWN. Imperial 16mo, cloth boards, +3s. 6d.+
[_Third Edition._
"It is a stirring story, and well told."--_Speaker._
======
_BY OTHER AUTHORS._
A GENTLEMAN ADVENTURER.
A Story of Panama, 1698. By JOHN BLOUNDELLE-BURTON, Author of
"The Hispaniola Plate," etc. With Illustrations by MAYNARD BROWN.
Imperial 16mo, cloth boards, +2s. 6d.+; paper covers, +6d.+
[_Third Edition._
"Few will lay down the story without feeling that they have for a
time been completely carried away into a stirring world and
into contact with vigorous passions."--_Times._
IN A DEEP-WATER SHIP.
A Personal Narrative of a Year's Voyage as Apprentice in a British
Clipper Ship. By ERNEST RICHARDS. Profusely Illustrated. Imperial
16mo, cloth, gilt top, +3s. 6d.+
------
16 PILGRIM STREET, LONDON, E.C.
[Transcriber's Notes:
Pagenumbers are omitted in the 'plain-text'-version. In the
'HTML'-version they are present.
Obvious punctuation/spelling errors were corrected without note.
The paper version of this book uses italic and bold text to
emphasize parts of the text. In the 'plain text'-version that will
be indicated thus:
_italic text_
+bold text+
This book contains a number of misprints.
The following misprints have been corrected:
[Old Roger Staynton? Gramercy!"] ->
[Old Roger Staynton? Grammercy!"]
(with double 'm' occurs 3 times in the text)
[struck her 'tgallants] ->
[struck her t'gallants]
(the author uses the latter in several other books)
A few additional remarks:
In chapter III there's an "invitory" containing superscript
characters. In the 'plain-text' version this is simulated by
surrounding the superscript characters with curly braces.
Probably not a misprint or spelling error, but still worth
mentioning: [an olde] / [on olde] Both 'spellings' occur two
times in a textfragment that should represent the writing style
of the 16th era.
]
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