In the Days of the Guild

by Louise Lamprey

  VII

  THE VENTURE OF NICHOLAS GAY

  HOW NICHOLAS GAY, THE MERCHANT'S SON, KEPT FAITH WITH A STRANGER ANDSERVED THE KING

  Nicholas Gay stood on the wharf by his father's warehouse, and the freshmorning breeze that blew up from the Pool of the Thames was ruffling hisbright hair. He could hear the seamen chanting at the windlass, and theshouts of the boatmen threading their skiffs and scows in and out amongthe crowded shipping. There were high-pooped Flemish freighters, builtto hold all the cargo possible for a brief voyage; English coastingships, lighter and quicker in the chop of the Channel waves; larger andmore dignified London merchantmen, that had the best oak of the Wealdin their bones and the pick of the Southdown wool to fill them full;Mediterranean galleys that shipped five times the crew and five timesthe cargo of a London ship; weather-beaten traders that had come overthe North Sea with cargoes of salt fish; and many others.

  The scene was never twice the same, and the boy never tired ofit. Coming into port with a cargo of spices and wine was a longMediterranean galley with oars as well as sails, each oar pulled by aslave who kept time with his neighbor like a machine. The English madetheir bid for fortune with the sailing-ship, and even in the twelfthcentury, when their keels were rarely seen in any Eastern port, therewas little of the rule of wind and sea short of Gibraltar that theircaptains did not know.

  Up Mart Lane, the steep little street from the wharves, Nicholas heardsome one singing a familiar chantey, but not as the sailors sang it. Hewas a slender youth with a laugh in his eye, and he was singing to aguitar-like lute. He was piecing out the chantey and fitting wordsto it, and succeeding rather well. Nicholas stood by his father'swarehouse, hands behind him and eyes on the ship just edging out tocatch the tide, and listened to the song, his heart full of dreams.

  "Hey, there, youngster!" said the singer kindly as he reached the endof the strophe. "Have you a share in that ship that you watch her sosharply?"

  "No," said Nicholas gravely, "she's not one of father's ships. She'sthe _Heath Hen_ of Weymouth, and she's loaded with wool, surely, butshe's for Bordeaux."

  "Bless the urchin, he might have been born on board!" The young manlooked at Nicholas rather more attentively. "Your father has ships,then?"

  Nicholas nodded proudly. "The _Rose-in-June_, and the _Sainte Spirite_,and the _Thomasyn_,--she's named for mother,--and the _SainteGenevieve_, because father was born in Paris, you know, and the _SaintNicholas_,--that's named for me. But I'm not old enough to have aventure yet. Father says I shall some day."

  The Pool of the Thames was crowded, and as the wind freshened the shipslooked even more like huge white-winged birds. Around them sailed andwheeled and fluttered the real sea-birds, picking up their living fromthe scraps thrown overboard,--swans, gulls, wild geese and ducks, hereand there a strange bird lured to the harbor by hope of spoil. The oddlymated companions, the man and the boy, walked along busy Thames Streetand came to Tower Hill and the great gray fortress-towers, with a doubleline of wall coiled around the base, just outside the City of London.The deep wide moat fed from the river made an island for the group ofbuildings with the square White Tower in the middle.

  "None of your friends live there, I suppose?" the young man inquired,and Nicholas smiled rather dubiously, for he was not certain whether itwas a joke or not. The Tower had been prison, palace and fort by turns,but common criminals were not imprisoned there--only those who had beenaccused of crimes against the State. "Lucky you," the youth added."London is much pleasanter as a residence, I assure you. I lodged notfar from here when I first came, but now I lodge----"

  That sentence was never finished. Clattering down Tower Hill came atroop of horse, and one, swerving suddenly, caught Nicholas betweenhis heels and the wall, and by the time the rider had his animal undercontrol the little fellow was lying senseless in the arms of thestranger, who had dived in among the flying hoofs and dragged him clear.The rider, lagging behind the rest, looked hard at the two, and thenspurred on without even stopping to ask whether he had hurt the boy.

  Before Nicholas had fairly come to himself he shut his teeth hard tokeep from crying out with the pain in his side and left leg. The youngman had laid him carefully down close by the wall, and just as hewas looking about for help three of the troopers came spurring back,dismounted, and pressed close around the youth as one of them saidsomething in French. He straightened up and looked at them, and in spiteof his pain Nicholas could not help noticing that he looked proudly andstraightforwardly, as if he were a gentleman born. He answered them inthe same language; they shook their heads and made gruff, short answers.The young man laid his hand on his dagger, hesitated, and turned backto Nicholas.

  "Little lad," he said, "this is indeed bad fortune. They will not let metake you home, but----" So deftly that the action was hidden from themen who stood by, he closed Nicholas' hand over a small packet, whileapparently he was only searching for a coin in his pouch and beckoningto a respectable-looking market-woman who halted near by just then. Headded in a quick low tone without looking at the boy, "Keep it for meand say nothing."

  Nicholas nodded and slipped the packet into the breast of his doublet,with a groan which was very real, for it hurt him to move that arm. Theyoung man rose and as his captors laid heavy hands upon him he put somesilver in the woman's hand, saying persuasively, "This boy has beenbadly hurt. I know not who he is, but see that he gets home safely."

  "Aye, master," said the woman compassionately, and then everything grewblack once more before Nicholas' eyes as he tried to see where the menwere going. When he came to himself they were gone, and he told thewoman that he was Nicholas Gay and that his father was Gilbert Gay, inFenchurch Street. The woman knew the house, which was tile-roofed andthree-storied, and had a garden; she called a porter and sent him fora hurdle, and they got Nicholas home.

  The merchant and his wife were seriously disturbed over theaccident,--not only because the boy was hurt, and hurt in so cruela way, but because some political plot or other seemed to be mixed upin it. From what the market-woman said it looked as if the men mighthave been officers of the law, and it was her guess that the young manwas an Italian spy. Whatever he was, he had been taken in at the gatesof the Tower. In a city of less than fifty thousand people, all sortsof gossip is rife about one faction and another, and if Gilbert Gaycame to be suspected by any of the King's advisers there were plentyof jealous folk ready to make trouble for him and his. Time went by,however, and they heard nothing more of it.

  Nicholas said nothing, even to his mother, of the packet which he hadhidden under the straw of his bed. It was sealed with a splash of redwax over the silken knot that tied it, and much as he desired to knowwhat was inside, Nicholas had been told by his father that a seal mustnever be broken except by the person who had a right to break it.Gilbert Gay had also told his children repeatedly that if anything wasgiven to them, or told them, in confidence, it was most wrong to say aword about it. It never occurred to Nicholas that perhaps his fatherwould expect him to tell of this. The youth had told him not to tell,and he must not tell, and that was all about it.

  The broken rib and the bruises healed in time, and by the season whenthe _Rose-in-June_ was due to sail, Nicholas was able to limp intothe rose-garden and play with his little sister Genevieve at sailingrose-petal boats in the fountain. The time of loading the ships fora foreign voyage was always rather exciting, and this was the bestand fastest of them all. When she came back, if the voyage had beenfortunate, she would be laden with spices and perfumes, fine silks andlinen, from countries beyond the sunrise where no one that Nicholasknew had ever been. From India and Persia, Arabia and Turkey, caravansof laden camels were even then bringing her cargo across the desert.They would be unloaded in such great market-places as Moussoul,Damascus, Bagdad and Cairo, the Babylon of those days. Alexandria andConstantinople, Tyre and Joppa, were seaport market-cities, and herethe Venetian and Genoese galleys, or French ships of Marseilles andBordeaux, or the half-Saracen, half-Norman tra
ders of Messina came fortheir goods.

  The _Rose-in-June_ would touch at Antwerp and unload wool for Flemishweavers to make into fine cloth; she would cruise around the coast, putin at Bordeaux, and sell the rest of her wool, and the grain of whichEngland also had a plenty. She might go on to Cadiz, or even throughthe Straits of Gibraltar to Marseilles and Messina. The more costly thestuff which she could pack into the hold for the homeward voyage, thegreater the profit for all concerned.

  Since wool takes up far more room in proportion to its value than silk,wine or spices, money as well as merchandise must be put into theventure, and the more money, the more profit. Others joined in theventure with Master Gay. Edrupt the wool-merchant furnished a partof the cargo on his own account; wool-merchants traveled through thecountry as agents for Master Gay. The men who served in the warehouseput in their share; even the porters and apprentices sent something,if no more than a shilling. There was some profit also in the passengertrade, especially in time of pilgrimage when it was hard to get shipsenough for all who wished to go. The night before the sailing, Nicholasescaped from the happy hubbub and went slowly down to the wharves. Itwas not a very long walk, but it tired him, and he felt rather sad as helooked at the grim gray Tower looming above the river, and wondered ifthe owner of the packet sealed with the red seal would ever come back.

  As he passed the little church at the foot of Tower Hill a light stepcame up behind him, and two hands were placed on his shoulders.

  "My faith!" said the young man. "Have you been here all this time?"

  "'HAVE YOU BEEN HERE ALL THIS TIME?'"]

  He was thinner and paler, but the laughter still sparkled in his darkeyes, and he was dressed in daintily embroidered doublet, fine hose,and cloak of the newest fashion, a gold chain about his neck and a harpslung from his shoulder. A group of well-dressed servants stood nearthe church.

  "I'm well now," said Nicholas rather shyly but happily. "I'm glad youhave come back."

  "I was at my wit's end when I thought of you, lad," went on the other,"for I remembered too late that neither of us knew the other's name,and if I had told mine or asked yours in the hearing of a certainrascal it might have been a sorry time for us both. They made a littlemistake, you see,--they took me for a traitor."

  "How could they?" said Nicholas, surprised and indignant.

  "Oh, black is white to a scared man's eyes," said his companionlight-heartedly. "How have your father's ships prospered?"

  "There's one of them,"--Nicholas pointed, proudly, across the littlespace of water, to the _Rose-in-June_ tugging at her anchor.

  "She's a fine ship," the young man said consideringly, and then, as hesaw the parcel Nicholas was taking from his bosom, "Do you mean to saythat that has never been opened? What sort of folk are you?"

  "I never told," said Nicholas, somewhat bewildered. "You said I was notto speak of it."

  "And there was no name on it, for a certain reason." The young manbalanced the parcel in his hand and whistled softly. "You see, I wasexpecting to meet hereabouts a certain pilgrim who was to take theparcel to Bordeaux,--and beyond. I was--interfered with, as you know,and now it must go by a safe hand to one who will deliver it to thissame pilgrim. I should say that your father must know how to choose hiscaptains."

  "My father is Master Gilbert Gay,"--Nicholas held his headvery straight--"and that is Master Garland, the captain of the_Rose-in-June_, coming ashore now."

  "Oh, I know him. I have had dealings with him before now. How wouldit be--since without your good help this packet would almost certainlyhave been lost--to let the worth of it be your venture in the cargo?"

  "My venture?" Nicholas stammered, the color rising in his cheeks. "Myventure?"

  "It is not worth much in money," the troubadour said with a queerlittle laugh, "but it is something. Master Garland, I see you have notforgotten me,--Ranulph, called le Provencal. Here is a packet to bedelivered to Tomaso the physician of Padua, whom you know. The moneywithin is this young man's share in your cargo, and Tomaso will pay youfor your trouble."

  Master Garland grinned broadly in his big beard. "Surely, sure-ly," hechuckled, and pocketed the parcel as if it had been an apple, butNicholas noted that he kept his hand on his pouch as he went on to thewharf.

  "And now," Ranulph said, as there was a stir in the crowd by the churchdoor,--evidently some one was coming out. "I must leave you, my lad.Some day we shall meet again." Then he went hastily away to join abrilliant company of courtiers in traveling attire. Things wereevidently going well with Ranulph.

  Nicholas thought a great deal about that packet in the days thatfollowed. He took to experimenting with various things to see whatcould account for the weight. Lead was heavy, but no one would send alump of lead of that size over seas. The same could be said of iron.He bethought him finally of a goldsmith's nephew with whom he hadacquaintance. Guy Bouverel was older, but the two boys knew each otherwell.

  "Guy," he said one day, "what's the heaviest metal you ever handled?"

  "Gold," said Guy promptly.

  "A bag that was too heavy to have silver in it would have gold?"

  "I should think so. Have you found treasure?"

  "No," said Nicholas, "I was wondering."

  The _Rose-in-June_ came back before she was due. Master Garland cameup to the house with Gilbert Gay, one rainy evening when Nicholas andGenevieve were playing nine-men's-morris in a corner and their motherwas embroidering a girdle by the light of a bracket lamp. Nicholas hadbeen taught not to interrupt, and he did not, but he was glad when hismother said gently, but with shining eyes, "Nicholas, come here."

  It was a queer story that Captain Garland had to tell, and nobody couldmake out exactly what it meant. Two or three years before he had metRanulph, who was then a troubadour in the service of Prince Henry ofAnjou, and he had taken a casket of gold pieces to Tomaso the physician,who was then in Genoa.

  "They do say," said Captain Garland, pulling at his russet beard, "thatthe old doctor can do anything short o' raising the dead. They fairworshiped him there, I know. But it's my notion that that box o' goldpieces wasn't payment for physic."

  "Probably not," said the merchant smiling. "Secret messengers are morelikely to deliver their messages if no one knows they have any. But whathappened this time?"

  "Why," said the sea captain, "I found the old doctor in his garden,with a great cat o' Malta stalking along beside him, and I gave him thepacket. He opened it and read the letter, and then he untied a littleleather purse and spilled out half a dozen gold pieces and some jewelsthat fair made me blink--not many, but beauties--rubies and emeralds andpearls. He beckoned toward the house and a man in pilgrim's garb cameout and valued the jewels. Then he sent me back to the _Rose-in-June_with the worth o' the jewels in coined gold and this ring here. 'Tellthe boy,' says he, 'that he saved the King's jewels, and that he has abetter jewel than all of them, the jewel of honor.'"

  "But, father," said Nicholas, rather puzzled, "what else could I do?"

  None of them could make anything of the mystery, but as Tomaso of Paduatalked with Eloy the goldsmith that same evening they agreed that theprice they paid was cheap. In the game the Pope's party was playingagainst that of the Emperor for the mastery of Europe, it had beendeemed advisable to find out whether Henry Plantagenet would rule theHoly Roman Empire if he could. He had refused the offer of the throneof the Caesars, and it was of the utmost importance that no one shouldknow that the offer had been made. Hence the delivery of the letter tothe jeweler.