CHAPTER XXVI
HOW THEY TOOK THE GREAT GALLEON
"When captains courageous, whom death could not daunt, Did march to the siege of the city of Gaunt, They muster'd their soldiers by two and by three, But the foremost in battle was Mary Ambree. When brave Sir John Major was slain in her sight, Who was her true lover, her joy and delight, Because he was murther'd most treacherouslie, Then vow'd to avenge him fair Mary Ambree."
Old Ballad, A. D. 1584.
One more glance at the golden tropic sea, and the golden tropicevenings, by the shore of New Granada, in the golden Spanish Main.
The bay of Santa Marta is rippling before the land-breeze one sheet ofliving flame. The mighty forests are sparkling with myriad fireflies.The lazy mist which lounges round the inner hills shines golden inthe sunset rays; and, nineteen thousand feet aloft, the mighty peak ofHorqueta cleaves the abyss of air, rose-red against the dark-bluevault of heaven. The rosy cone fades to a dull leaden hue; but only forawhile. The stars flash out one by one, and Venus, like another moon,tinges the eastern snows with gold, and sheds across the bay a longyellow line of rippling light. Everywhere is glory and richness. Whatwonder if the earth in that enchanted land be as rich to her inmostdepths as she is upon the surface? The heaven, the hills, the sea, areone sparkling garland of jewels--what wonder if the soil be jewelledalso? if every watercourse and bank of earth be spangled with emeraldsand rubies, with grains of gold and feathered wreaths of native silver?
So thought, in a poetic mood, the Bishop of Cartagena, as he sat inthe state cabin of that great galleon, The City of the True Cross, andlooked pensively out of the window towards the shore. The good man wasin a state of holy calm. His stout figure rested on one easy-chair, hisstout ankles on another, beside a table spread with oranges and limes,guavas and pine-apples, and all the fruits of Ind.
An Indian girl, bedizened with scarfs and gold chains, kept off theflies with a fan of feathers; and by him, in a pail of ice from theHorqueta (the gift of some pious Spanish lady, who had "spent" an Indianor two in bringing down the precious offering), stood more than oneflask of virtuous wine of Alicant. But he was not so selfish, good man,as to enjoy either ice or wine alone; Don Pedro, colonel of the soldierson board, Don Alverez, intendant of his Catholic majesty's customs atSanta Marta, and Don Paul, captain of mariners in The City of theTrue Cross, had, by his especial request, come to his assistance thatevening, and with two friars, who sat at the lower end of the table,were doing their best to prevent the good man from taking too bitterlyto heart the present unsatisfactory state of his cathedral town, whichhad just been sacked and burnt by an old friend of ours, Sir FrancisDrake.
"We have been great sufferers, senors,--ah, great sufferers," snuffledthe bishop, quoting Scripture, after the fashion of the day, gliblyenough, but often much too irreverently for me to repeat, so boldly werehis texts travestied, and so freely interlarded by grumblings at Titaand the mosquitoes. "Great sufferers, truly; but there shall be aremnant,--ah, a remnant like the shaking of the olive tree and thegleaning grapes when the vintage is done.--Ah! Gold? Yes, I trustOur Lady's mercies are not shut up, nor her arms shortened.--Look,senors!"--and he pointed majestically out of the window. "It looks gold!it smells of gold, as I may say, by a poetical license. Yea, the verywaves, as they ripple past us, sing of gold, gold, gold!"
"It is a great privilege," said the intendant, "to have comfort sogracefully administered at once by a churchman and a scholar."
"A poet, too," said Don Pedro. "You have no notion what sweet sonnets--"
"Hush, Don Pedro--hush! If I, a mateless bird, have spent an idle hourin teaching lovers how to sing, why, what of that? I am a churchman,senors; but I am a man and I can feel, senors; I can sympathize; I canpalliate; I can excuse. Who knows better than I how much human naturelurks in us fallen sons of Adam? Tita!"
"Um?" said the trembling girl, with a true Indian grunt.
"Fill his excellency the intendant's glass. Does much more treasure comedown, illustrious senor? May the poor of Mary hope for a few more crumbsfrom their Mistress's table?"
"Not a pezo, I fear. The big white cow up there"--and he pointed to theHorqueta--"has been milked dry for this year."
"Ah!" And he looked up at the magnificent snow peak. "Only good to coolwine with, eh? and as safe for the time being as Solomon's birds."
"Solomon's birds? Explain your recondite allusion, my lord."
"Enlighten us, your excellency, enlighten us."
"Ah! thereby hangs a tale. You know the holy birds who run up and downon the Prado at Seville among the ladies' pretty feet,--eh? with hookednoses and cinnamon crests? Of course. Hoopoes--Upupa, as the classicshave it. Well, senors, once on a time, the story goes, these hoopoesall had golden crowns on their heads; and, senors, they took theconsequences--eh? But it befell on a day that all the birds and beastscame to do homage at the court of his most Catholic majesty KingSolomon, and among them came these same hoopoes; and they had a littlerequest to make, the poor rogues. And what do you think it was? Why,that King Solomon would pray for them that they might wear any sort ofcrowns but these same golden ones; for--listen, Tita, and see the snareof riches--mankind so hunted, and shot, and trapped, and snared them,for the sake of these same golden crowns, that life was a burden tobear. So Solomon prayed, and instead of golden crowns, they all receivedcrowns of feathers; and ever since, senors, they live as merrily ascrickets in an oven, and also have the honor of bearing the name of hismost Catholic majesty King Solomon. Tita! fill the senor commandant'sglass. Fray Gerundio, what are you whispering about down there, sir?"
Fray Gerundio had merely commented to his brother on the bishop's storyof Solomon's birds with an--
"O si sic omnia!--would that all gold would turn to feathers in likewise!"
"Then, friend," replied the other, a Dominican, like Gerundio, but of adarker and sterner complexion, "corrupt human nature would within a weekdiscover some fresh bauble, for which to kill and be killed in vain."
"What is that, Fray Gerundio?" asked the bishop again.
"I merely remarked, that it were well for the world if all mankind wereto put up the same prayer as the hoopoes."
"World, sir? What do you know about the world? Convert your Indians,sir, if you please, and leave affairs of state to your superiors. Youwill excuse him, senors" (turning to the Dons, and speaking in a lowertone). "A very worthy and pious man, but a poor peasant's son; andbeside--you understand. A little wrong here; too much fasting andwatching, I fear, good man." And the bishop touched his foreheadknowingly, to signify that Fray Gerundio's wits were in anunsatisfactory state.
The Fray heard and saw with a quiet smile. He was one of those excellentmen whom the cruelties of his countrymen had stirred up (as thedarkness, by mere contrast, makes the light more bright), as they didLas Casas, Gasca, and many another noble name which is written in thebook of life, to deeds of love and pious daring worthy of any creed orage. True Protestants, they protested, even before kings, against theevil which lay nearest them, the sin which really beset them; trueliberals, they did not disdain to call the dark-skinned heathen theirbrothers; and asserted in terms which astonish us, when we recollect theage in which they were spoken, the inherent freedom of every being whowore the flesh and blood which their Lord wore; true martyrs, theybore witness of Christ, and received too often the rewards of such,in slander and contempt. Such an one was Fray Gerundio; a poor, mean,clumsy-tongued peasant's son, who never could put three sentencestogether, save when he waxed eloquent, crucifix in hand, amid somegroup of Indians or negroes. He was accustomed to such rebuffs as thebishop's; he took them for what they were worth, and sipped his wine insilence; while the talk went on.
"They say," observed the commandant, "that a very small Plate-fleet willgo to Spain this year."
"What else?" says the intendant. "What have we to send, in the name ofall saints, since these accursed English Lutherans have swept us o
utclean?"
"And if we had anything to send," says the sea-captain, "what have we tosend it in? That fiend incarnate, Drake--"
"Ah!" said his holiness; "spare my ears! Don Pedro, you will oblige myweakness by not mentioning that man;--his name is Tartarean, unfitfor polite lips. Draco--a dragon--serpent--the emblem of Diabolushimself--ah! And the guardian of the golden apples of the West, whowould fain devour our new Hercules, his most Catholic majesty. DeceivedEve, too, with one of those same apples--a very evil name, senors--aTartarean name,--Tita!"
"Um!"
"Fill my glass."
"Nay," cried the colonel, with a great oath, "this English fellow is ofanother breed of serpent from that, I warrant."
"Your reason, senor; your reason?"
"Because this one would have seen Eve at the bottom of the sea, beforehe let her, or any one but himself, taste aught which looked like gold."
"Ah, ah!--very good! But--we laugh, valiant senors, while the Churchweeps. Alas for my sheep!"
"And alas for their sheepfold! It will be four years before we can getCartagena rebuilt again. And as for the blockhouse, when we shall getthat rebuilt, Heaven only knows, while his majesty goes on draining theIndies for his English Armada. The town is as naked now as an Indian'sback."
"Baptista Antonio, the surveyor, has sent home by me a relation to theking, setting forth our defenceless state. But to read a relation andto act on it are two cocks of very different hackles, bishop, as allstatesmen know. Heaven grant we may have orders by the next fleet tofortify, or we shall be at the mercy of every English pirate!"
"Ah, that blockhouse!" sighed the bishop. "That was indeed a villainoustrick. A hundred and ten thousand ducats for the ransom of the town!After having burned and plundered the one-half--and having made medine with them too, ah! and sit between the--the serpent, and hislieutenant-general--and drunk my health in my own private wine--winethat I had from Xeres nine years ago, senors and offered, the shamelessheretics, to take me to England, if I would turn Lutheran, and find me awife, and make an honest man of me--ah! and then to demand fresh ransomfor the priory and the fort--perfidious!"
"Well," said the colonel, "they had the law of us, the cunning rascals,for we forgot to mention anything but the town, in the agreement. Whowould have dreamed of such a fetch as that?"
"So I told my good friend the prior, when he came to me to borrow thethousand crowns. It was Heaven's will. Unexpected like the thunderbolt,and to be borne as such. Every man must bear his own burden. How could Ilend him aught?"
"Your holiness's money had been all carried off by them before," saidthe intendant, who knew, and none better, the exact contrary.
"Just so--all my scanty savings! desolate in my lone old age. Ah,senors, had we not had warning of the coming of these wretches frommy dear friend the Marquess of Santa Cruz, whom I remember daily in myprayers, we had been like to them who go down quick into the pit. I toomight have saved a trifle, had I been minded: but in thinking too muchof others, I forgot myself, alas!"
"Warning or none, we had no right to be beaten by such a handful," saidthe sea-captain; "and a shame it is, and a shame it will be, for many aday to come."
"Do you mean to cast any slur, sir, upon the courage and conduct of hisCatholic majesty's soldiers?" asked the colonel.
"I?--No; but we were foully beaten, and that behind our barricades too,and there's the plain truth."
"Beaten, sir! Do you apply such a term to the fortunes of war? What morecould our governor have done? Had we not the ways filled with poisonedcaltrops, guarded by Indian archers, barred with butts full of earth,raked with culverins and arquebuses? What familiar spirit had we, sir,to tell us that these villains would come along the sea-beach, and notby the high-road, like Christian men?"
"Ah!" said the bishop, "it was by intuition diabolic, I doubt not, thatthey took that way. Satanas must need help those who serve him; and formy part, I can only attribute (I would the captain here had piety enoughto do so) the misfortune which occurred to art-magic. I believe thesemen to have been possessed by all fiends whatsoever."
"Well, your holiness," said the colonel, "there may have been devilryin it; how else would men have dared to run right into the mouths of ourcannon, fire their shot against our very noses, and tumble harmless overthose huge butts of earth?"
"Doubtless by force of the fiends which raged with them," interposed thebishop.
"And then, with their blasphemous cries, leap upon us with sword andpike? I myself saw that Lieutenant-General Carlisle hew down with onestroke that noble young gentleman the ensign-bearer, your excellency'ssister's son's nephew, though he was armed cap-a-pie. Was not art-magichere? And that most furious and blaspheming Lutheran Captain Young, Isaw how he caught our general by the head, after the illustrious DonAlonzo had given him a grievous wound, threw him to the earth, and sotook him. Was not art-magic here?"
"Well, I say," said the captain, "if you are looking for art-magic, whatsay you to their marching through the flank fire of our galleys, witheleven pieces of ordnance, and two hundred shot playing on them, as ifit had been a mosquito swarm? Some said my men fired too high: but thatwas the English rascals' doing, for they got down on the tide beach.But, senor commandant, though Satan may have taught them that trick, wasit he that taught them to carry pikes a foot longer than yours?"
"Ah, well," said the bishop, "sacked are we; and San Domingo, as I hear,in worse case than we are; and St. Augustine in Florida likewise; andall that is left for a poor priest like me is to return to Spain, andsee whether the pious clemency of his majesty, and of the universalFather, may not be willing to grant some small relief or bounty to thepoor of Mary--perhaps--(for who knows?) to translate to a sphere ofmore peaceful labor one who is now old, senors, and weary with manytoils--Tita! fill our glasses. I have saved somewhat--as you may havedone, senors, from the general wreck; and for the flock, when I am nomore, illustrious senors, Heaven's mercies are infinite; new cities willrise from the ashes of the old, new mines pour forth their treasuresinto the sanctified laps of the faithful, and new Indians flock towardthe life-giving standard of the Cross, to put on the easy yoke and lightburden of the Church, and--"
"And where shall I be then? Ah, where? Fain would I rest, and faindepart. Tita! sling my hammock. Senors, you will excuse age andinfirmities. Fray Gerundio, go to bed!"
And the Dons rose to depart, while the bishop went on maundering,--
"Farewell! Life is short. Ah! we shall meet in heaven at last. And thereare really no more pearls?"
"Not a frail; nor gold either," said the intendant.
"Ah, well! Better a dinner of herbs where love is, than--Tita!"
"My breviary--ah! Man's gratitude is short-lived, I had hoped--You haveseen nothing of the Senora Bovadilla?"
"No."
"Ah! she promised:--but no matter--a little trifle as a keepsake--a goldcross, or an emerald ring, or what not--I forget. And what have I to dowith worldly wealth!--Ah! Tita! bring me the casket."
And when his guests were gone, the old man began mumbling prayers out ofhis breviary, and fingering over jewels and gold, with the dull greedyeyes of covetous old age.
"Ah!--it may buy the red hat yet!--Omnia Romae venalia! Put it by, Tita,and do not look at it too much, child. Enter not into temptation. Thelove of money is the root of all evil; and Heaven, in love for theIndian, has made him poor in this world, that he may be rich in faith.Ah!--Ugh!--So!"
And the old miser clambered into his hammock. Tita drew the mosquitonet over him, wrapt another round her own head, and slept, or seemed tosleep; for she coiled herself up upon the floor, and master and slavesoon snored a merry bass to the treble of the mosquitoes.
It was long past midnight, and the moon was down. The sentinels, who hadtramped and challenged overhead till they thought their officers weresound asleep, had slipped out of the unwholesome rays of the planet toseek that health and peace which they considered their right, and sleptas soundly as the bishop's self.
&nb
sp; Two long lines glided out from behind the isolated rocks of the MorroGrande, which bounded the bay some five hundred yards astern of thegalleon. They were almost invisible on the glittering surface of thewater, being perfectly white; and, had a sentinel been looking out, hecould only have descried them by the phosphorescent flashes along theirsides.
Now the bishop had awoke, and turned himself over uneasily; for the winewas dying out within him, and his shoulders had slipped down, and hisheels up, and his head ached! so he sat upright in his hammock, lookedout upon the bay, and called Tita.
"Put another pillow under my head, child! What is that? a fish?"
Tita looked. She did not think it was a fish: but she did not choose tosay so; for it might have produced an argument, and she had her reasonsfor not keeping his holiness awake.
The bishop looked again; settled that it must be a white whale, orshark, or other monster of the deep; crossed himself, prayed for a safevoyage, and snored once more.
Presently the cabin-door opened gently, and the head of the senorintendant appeared.
Tita sat up; and then began crawling like a snake along the floor, amongthe chairs and tables, by the light of the cabin lamp.
"Is he asleep?"
"Yes: but the casket is under his head."
"Curse him! How shall we take it?"
"I brought him a fresh pillow half-an-hour ago; I hung his hammock wrongon purpose that he might want one. I thought to slip the box away as Idid it; but the old ox nursed it in both hands all the while."
"What shall we do, in the name of all the fiends? She sails to-morrowmorning, and then all is lost."
Tita showed her white teeth, and touched the dagger which hung by theintendant's side.
"I dare not!" said the rascal, with a shudder.
"I dare!" said she. "He whipt my mother, because she would not give meup to him to be taught in his schools, when she went to the mines. Andshe went to the mines, and died there in three months. I saw her go,with a chain round her neck; but she never came back again. Yes; I darekill him! I will kill him! I will!"
The senor felt his mind much relieved. He had no wish, of course, tocommit the murder himself; for he was a good Catholic, and feared thedevil. But Tita was an Indian, and her being lost did not matter somuch. Indians' souls were cheap, like their bodies. So he answered, "Butwe shall be discovered!"
"I will leap out of the window with the casket, and swim ashore. Theywill never suspect you, and they will fancy I am drowned."
"The sharks may seize you, Tita. You had better give me the casket."
Tita smiled. "You would not like to lose that, eh? though you carelittle about losing me. And yet you told me that you loved me!"
"And I do love you, Tita! light of my eyes! life of my heart! I swear,by all the saints, I love you. I will marry you, I swear I will--I willswear on the crucifix, if you like!"
"Swear, then, or I do not give you the casket," said she, holding outthe little crucifix round her neck, and devouring him with the wild eyesof passionate unreasoning tropic love.
He swore, trembling, and deadly pale.
"Give me your dagger."
"No, not mine. It may be found. I shall be suspected. What if my sheathwere seen to be empty?"
"Your knife will do. His throat is soft enough."
And she glided stealthily as a cat toward the hammock, while hercowardly companion stood shivering at the other end of the cabin, andturned his back to her, that he might not see the deed.
He stood waiting, one minute--two--five? Was it an hour, rather? A coldsweat bathed his limbs; the blood beat so fiercely within his temples,that his head rang again. Was that a death-bell tolling? No; it was thepulses of his brain. Impossible, surely, a death-bell. Whence could itcome?
There was a struggle--ah! she was about it now; a stifled cry--Ah! hehad dreaded that most of all, to hear the old man cry. Would there bemuch blood? He hoped not. Another struggle, and Tita's voice, apparentlymuffled, called for help.
"I cannot help you. Mother of Mercies! I dare not help you!" hissed he."She-devil! you have begun it, and you must finish it yourself!"
A heavy arm from behind clasped his throat. The bishop had broken loosefrom her and seized him! Or was it his ghost? or a fiend come to draghim down to the pit? And forgetting all but mere wild terror, he openedhis lips for a scream, which would have wakened every soul on board. Buta handkerchief was thrust into his mouth and in another minute he foundhimself bound hand and foot, and laid upon the table by a giganticenemy. The cabin was full of armed men, two of whom were lashing upthe bishop in his hammock; two more had seized Tita; and more wereclambering up into the stern-gallery beyond, wild figures, with brightblades and armor gleaming in the starlight.
"Now, Will," whispered the giant who had seized him, "forward andclap the fore-hatches on; and shout Fire! with all your might. Girl!murderess! your life is in my hands. Tell me where the commander sleeps,and I pardon you."
Tita looked up at the huge speaker, and obeyed in silence. The intendantheard him enter the colonel's cabin, and then a short scuffle, andsilence for a moment.
But only for a moment; for already the alarm had been given, and madconfusion reigned through every deck. Amyas (for it was none other) hadalready gained the poop; the sentinels were gagged and bound; and everyhalf-naked wretch who came trembling up on deck in his shirt by the mainhatchway, calling one, "Fire!" another, "Wreck!" and another, "Treason!"was hurled into the scuppers, and there secured.
"Lower away that boat!" shouted Amyas in Spanish to his first batch ofprisoners.
The men, unarmed and naked, could but obey.
"Now then, jump in. Here, hand them to the gangway as they come up."
It was done; and as each appeared he was kicked to the scuppers, andbundled down over the side.
"She's full. Cast loose now and off with you. If you try to board againwe'll sink you."
"Fire! fire!" shouted Cary, forward. "Up the main hatchway for yourlives!"
The ruse succeeded utterly; and before half-an-hour was over, all theship's boats which could be lowered were filled with Spaniards in theirshirts, getting ashore as best they could.
"Here is a new sort of camisado," quoth Cary. "The last Spanish oneI saw was at the sortie from Smerwick: but this is somewhat moreprosperous than that."
"Get the main and foresail up, Will!" said Amyas, "cut the cable; and wewill plume the quarry as we fly."
"Spoken like a good falconer. Heaven grant that this big woodcock maycarry a good trail inside!"
"I'll warrant her for that," said Jack Brimblecombe. "She floats solow."
"Much of your build, too, Jack. By the by, where is the commander?"
Alas! Don Pedro, forgotten in the bustle, had been lying on the deckin his shirt, helplessly bound, exhausting that part of his vocabularywhich related to the unseen world. Which most discourteous act seemed atfirst likely to be somewhat heavily avenged on Amyas; for as he spoke, acouple of caliver-shots, fired from under the poop, passed "ping" "ping"by his ears, and Cary clapped his hand to his side.
"Hurt, Will?"
"A pinch, old lad--Look out, or we are 'allen verloren' after all, asthe Flemings say."
And as he spoke, a rush forward on the poop drove two of their best mendown the ladder into the waist, where Amyas stood.
"Killed?" asked he, as he picked one up, who had fallen head over heels.
"Sound as a bell, sir: but they Gentiles has got hold of the firearms,and set the captain free."
And rubbing the back of his head for a minute, he jumped up the ladderagain, shouting--
"Have at ye, idolatrous pagans! Have at ye, Satan's spawn!"
Amyas jumped up after him, shouting to all hands to follow; for therewas no time to be lost.
Out of the windows of the poop, which looked on the main-deck, a gallingfire had been opened, and he could not afford to lose men; for, as faras he knew, the Spaniards left on board might still far outnumber theEnglish; so up he spran
g on the poop, followed by a dozen men, and therebegan a very heavy fight between two parties of valiant warriors, whoeasily knew each other apart by the peculiar fashion of their armor. Forthe Spaniards fought in their shirts, and in no other garments: but theEnglish in all other manner of garments, tag, rag, and bobtail; and yethad never a shirt between them.
The rest of the English made a rush, of course, to get upon the poop,seeing that the Spaniards could not shoot them through the deck; butthe fire from the windows was so hot, that although they dodged behindmasts, spars, and every possible shelter, one or two dropped; and JackBrimblecombe and Yeo took on themselves to call a retreat, and withabout a dozen men, got back, and held a council of war.
What was to be done? Their arquebuses were of little use; for theSpaniards were behind a strong bulkhead. There were cannon: but wherewas powder or shot? The boats, encouraged by the clamor on deck, werepaddling alongside again. Yeo rushed round and round, probing every gunwith his sword.
"Here's a patararo loaded! Now for a match, lads."
Luckily one of the English had kept his match alight during the scuffle.
"Thanks be! Help me to unship the gun--the mast's in the way here."
The patararo, or brass swivel, was unshipped.
"Steady, lads, and keep it level, or you'll shake out the priming. Shipit here; turn out that one, and heave it into that boat, if they comealongside. Steady now--so! Rummage about, and find me a bolt or two,a marlin-spike, anything. Quick, or the captain will be over-masteredyet."
Missiles were found--odds and ends--and crammed into the swivel up tothe muzzle: and, in another minute, its "cargo of notions" was crashinginto the poop-windows, silencing the fire from thence effectually enoughfor the time.
"Now, then, a rush forward, and right in along the deck!" shouted Yeo;and the whole party charged through the cabin-doors, which their shothad burst open, and hewed their way from room to room.
In the meanwhile, the Spaniards above had fought fiercely: but, inspite of superior numbers, they had gradually given back before the"demoniacal possession of those blasphemous heretics, who fought,not like men, but like furies from the pit." And by the time thatBrimblecombe and Yeo shouted from the stern-gallery below that thequarter-deck was won, few on either side but had their shrewd scratch toshow.
"Yield, senor!" shouted Amyas to the commander, who had been fightinglike a lion, back to back with the captain of mariners.
"Never! You have bound me, and insulted me! Your blood or mine must wipeout the stain!"
And he rushed on Amyas. There was a few moments' heavy fence betweenthem; and then Amyas cut right at his head. But as he raised his arm,the Spaniard's blade slipped along his ribs, and snapped against thepoint of his shoulder-blade. An inch more to the left, and it would havebeen through his heart. The blow fell, nevertheless, and the commandantfell with it, stunned by the flat of the sword, but not wounded;for Amyas's hand had turned, as he winced from his wound. But thesea-captain, seeing Amyas stagger, sprang at him, and, seizing him bythe wrist, ere he could raise his sword again, shortened his weapon torun him through. Amyas made a grasp at his wrist in return, but, betweenhis faintness and the darkness, missed it.--Another moment, and allwould have been over!
A bright blade flashed close past Amyas's ear; the sea-captain's grasploosened, and he dropped a corpse; while over him, like an angry lionessabove her prey, stood Ayacanora, her long hair floating in the wind, herdagger raised aloft, as she looked round, challenging all and every oneto approach.
"Are you hurt?" panted she.
"A scratch, child.--What do you do here? Go back, go back."
Ayacanora slipped back like a scolded child, and vanished in thedarkness.
The battle was over. The Spaniards, seeing their commanders fall, laiddown their arms, and cried for quarter. It was given; the poor fellowswere tied together, two and two, and seated in a row on the deck; thecommandant, sorely bruised, yielded himself perforce; and the galleonwas taken.
Amyas hurried forward to get the sails set. As he went down thepoop-ladder, there was some one sitting on the lowest step.
"Who is here--wounded?"
"I am not wounded," said a woman's voice, low, and stifled with sobs.
It was Ayacanora. She rose, and let him pass. He saw that her face wasbright with tears; but he hurried on, nevertheless.
"Perhaps I did speak a little hastily to her, considering she saved mylife; but what a brimstone it is! Mary Ambree in a dark skin! Now then,lads! Get the Santa Fe gold up out of the canoes, and then we will puther head to the north-east, and away for Old England. Mr. Brimblecombe!don't say that Eastward-ho don't bring luck this time."
It was impossible, till morning dawned, either to get matters into anyorder, or to overhaul the prize they had taken; and many of the men wereso much exhausted that they fell fast asleep on the deck ere the surgeonhad time to dress their wounds. However, Amyas contrived, when once theship was leaping merrily, close-hauled against a fresh land-breeze,to count his little flock, and found out of the forty-four but sixseriously wounded, and none killed. However, their working numbers werenow reduced to thirty-eight, beside the four negroes, a scanty crewenough to take home such a ship to England.
After awhile, up came Jack Brimblecombe on deck, a bottle in his hand.
"Lads, a prize!"
"Well, we know that already."
"Nay, but--look hither, and laid in ice, too, as I live, the luxuriousdogs! But I had to fight for it, I had. For when I went down into thestate cabin, after I had seen to the wounded; whom should I find loosebut that Indian lass, who had just unbound the fellow you caught--"
"Ah! those two, I believe, were going to murder the old man in thehammock, if we had not come in the nick of time. What have you done withthem?"
"Why, the Spaniard ran when he saw me, and got into a cabin; but thewoman, instead of running, came at me with a knife, and chased me roundthe table like a very cat-a-mountain. So I ducked under the old man'shammock, and out into the gallery; and when I thought the coast wasclear, back again I came, and stumbled over this. So I just picked itup, and ran on deck with my tail between my legs, for I expectedverily to have the black woman's knife between my ribs out of some darkcorner."
"Well done, Jack! Let's have the wine, nevertheless, and then down toset a guard on the cabin doors for fear of plundering."
"Better go down, and see that nothing is thrown overboard by Spaniards.As for plundering, I will settle that."
And Amyas walked forward among the men.
"Muster the men, boatswain, and count them."
"All here, sir, but the six poor fellows who are laid forward."
"Now, my men," said Amyas, "for three years you and I have wanderedon the face of the earth, seeking our fortune, and we have found it atlast, thanks be to God! Now, what was our promise and vow which we madeto God beneath the tree of Guayra, if He should grant us good fortune,and bring us home again with a prize? Was it not, that the dead shouldshare with the living; and that every man's portion, if he fell, shouldgo to his widow or his orphans, or if he had none, to his parents?"
"It was, sir," said Yeo, "and I trust that the Lord will give these mengrace to keep their vow. They have seen enough of His providences bythis time to fear Him."
"I doubt them not; but I remind them of it. The Lord has put into ourhands a rich prize; and what with the gold which we have already, we arewell paid for all our labors. Let us thank Him with fervent heartsas soon as the sun rises; and in the meanwhile, remember all, thatwhosoever plunders on his private account, robs not the adventurersmerely, but the orphan and the widow, which is to rob God; and makeshimself partaker of Achan's curse, who hid the wedge of gold, andbrought down God's anger on the whole army of Israel. For me, lest youshould think me covetous, I could claim my brother's share; but I herebygive it up freely into the common stock, for the use of the whole ship'screw, who have stood by me through weal and woe, as men never stoodbefore, as I believe, by any captain. So, n
ow to prayers, lads, and thento eat our breakfast."
So, to the Spaniards' surprise (who most of them believed that theEnglish were atheists), to prayers they went.
After which Brimblecombe contrived to inspire the black cook and thePortuguese steward with such energy that, by seven o'clock, the latterworthy appeared on deck, and, with profound reverences, announced to"The most excellent and heroical Senor Adelantado Captain Englishman,"that breakfast was ready in the state-cabin.
"You will do us the honor of accompanying us as our guest, sir, or ourhost, if you prefer the title," said Amyas to the commandant, who stoodby.
"Pardon, senor: but honor forbids me to eat with one who has offered tome the indelible insult of bonds."
"Oh!" said Amyas, taking off his hat, "then pray accept on the spot myhumble apologies for all which has passed, and my assurances that theindignities which you have unfortunately endured, were owing altogetherto the necessities of war, and not to any wish to hurt the feelings ofso valiant a soldier and gentleman."
"It is enough, senor," said the commandant, bowing and shrugging hisshoulders--for, indeed, he too was very hungry; while Cary whispered toAmyas--
"You will make a courtier, yet, old lad."
"I am not in jesting humor, Will: my mind sadly misgives me that weshall hear black news, and have, perhaps, to do a black deed yet, onboard here. Senor, I follow you."
So they went down, and found the bishop, who was by this time unbound,seated in a corner of the cabin, his hands fallen on his knees, his eyesstaring on vacancy, while the two priests stood as close against thewall as they could squeeze themselves, keeping up a ceaseless mutter ofprayers.
"Your holiness will breakfast with us, of course; and these two frockedgentlemen likewise. I see no reason for refusing them all hospitality,as yet."
There was a marked emphasis on the last two words, which made both monkswince.
"Our chaplain will attend to you, gentlemen. His lordship the bishopwill do me the honor of sitting next to me."
The bishop seemed to revive slowly as he snuffed the savory steam;and at last, rising mechanically, subsided into the chair which Amyasoffered him on his left, while the commandant sat on his right.
"A little of this kid, my lord? No--ah--Friday, I recollect. Some ofthat turtle-fin, then. Will, serve his lordship; pass the cassava-breadup, Jack! Senor commandant! a glass of wine? You need it after yourvaliant toils. To the health of all brave soldiers--and a toast fromyour own Spanish proverb, 'To-day to me, tomorrow to thee!'"
"I drink it, brave senor. Your courtesy shows you the worthy countrymanof General Drake, and his brave lieutenant."
"Drake! Did you know him, senor?" asked all the Englishmen at once.
"Too well, too well--" and he would have continued; but the bishop burstout--
"Ah, senor commandant! that name again! Have you no mercy? To sitbetween another pair of--, and my own wine, too! Ugh, ugh!"
The old gentleman, whose mouth had been full of turtle the whole time,burst into a violent fit of coughing, and was only saved from apoplexyby Cary's patting him on the back.
"Ugh, ugh! The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel, and theirprecious balms. Ah, senor lieutenant Englishman! May I ask you to passthose limes?--Ah! what is turtle without lime?--Even as a fat old manwithout money! Nudus intravi, nudus exeo--ah!"
"But what of Drake?"
"Do you not know, sir, that he and his fleet, only last year, swept thewhole of this coast, and took, with shame I confess it, Cartagena, SanDomingo, St. Augustine, and--I see you are too courteous, senors, toexpress before me what you have a right to feel. But whence come you,sir? From the skies, or the depth of the sea?"
"Art-magic, art-magic!" moaned the bishop.
"Your holiness! It is scarcely prudent to speak thus here," said thecommandant, who was nevertheless much of the same opinion.
"Why, you said so yourself, last night, senor, about the taking ofCartagena."
The commandant blushed, and stammered out somewhat--"That it wasexcusable in him, if he had said, in jest, that so prodigious andcurious a valor had not sprung from mortal source."
"No more it did, senor," said Jack Brimblecombe, stoutly: "but from Himwho taught our 'hands to war, and our fingers to fight.'"
The commandant bowed stiffly. "You will excuse me, sir preacher: but Iam a Catholic, and hold the cause of my king to be alone the cause ofHeaven. But, senor captain, how came you thither, if I may ask? That youneeded no art-magic after you came on board, I, alas! can testify buttoo well: but what spirit--whether good or evil, I ask not--brought youon board, and whence? Where is your ship? I thought that all Drake'ssquadron had left six months ago."
"Our ship, senor, has lain this three years rotting on the coast nearCape Codera."
"Ah! we heard of that bold adventure--but we thought you all lost in theinterior."
"You did? Can you tell me, then, where the senor governor of La Guayramay be now?"
"The Senor Don Guzman de Soto," said the commandant, in a somewhatconstrained tone, "is said to be at present in Spain, having thrown uphis office in consequence of domestic matters, of which I have not thehonor of knowing anything."
Amyas longed to ask more: but he knew that the well-bred Spaniard wouldtell him nothing which concerned another man's wife; and went on.
"What befell us after, I tell you frankly."
And Amyas told his story, from the landing at Guayra to the passage downthe Magdalena. The commandant lifted up his hands.
"Were it not forbidden to me, as a Catholic, most invincible senor, Ishould say that the Divine protection has indeed--"
"Ah," said one of the friars, "that you could be brought, senors, torender thanks for your miraculous preservation to her to whom alone itis due, Mary, the fount of mercies!"
"We have done well enough without her as yet," said Amyas, bluntly.
"The Lord raised up Nebuchadnezzar of old to punish the sins of theJewish Church; and He has raised up these men to punish ours!" said FrayGerundio.
"But Nebuchadnezzar fell, and so may they," growled the other tohimself. Jack overheard him.
"I say, my lord bishop," called he from the other end of the table. "Itis our English custom to let our guests be as rude as they like; butperhaps your lordship will hint to these two friars, that if they wishto keep whole skins, they will keep civil tongues."
"Be silent, asses! mules!" shouted the bishop, whose spirits wereimproving over the wine, "who are you, that you cannot eat dirt as wellas your betters?"
"Well spoken, my lord. Here's the health of our saintly and venerableguest," said Cary: while the commandant whispered to Amyas, "Fat oldtyrant! I hope you have found his money--for I am sure he has some onboard, and I should be loath that you lost the advantage of it."
"I shall have to say a few words to you about that money this morning,commandant: by the by, they had better be said now. My lord bishop, doyou know that had we not taken this ship when we did, you had lost notmerely money, as you have now, but life itself?"
"Money? I had none to lose! Life?--what do you mean?" asked the bishop,turning very pale.
"This, sir. That it ill befits one to lie, whose throat has been savedfrom the assassin's knife but four hours since. When we entered thestern-gallery, we found two persons, now on board this ship, in the veryact, sir, and article, of cutting your sinful throat, that they mightrob you of the casket which lay beneath your pillow. A moment more, andyou were dead. We seized and bound them, and so saved your life. Is thatplain, sir?"
The bishop looked steadfastly and stupidly into Amyas's face, heaved adeep sigh, and gradually sank back in his chair, dropping the glass fromhis hand.
"He is in a fit! Call in the surgeon! Run!" and up jumped kind-heartedJack, and brought in the surgeon of the galleon.
"Is this possible, senor?" asked the commandant.
"It is true. Door, there! Evans! go and bring in that rascal whom weleft bound in his cabin!"
Evans we
nt, and the commandant continued--
"But the stern-gallery? How, in the name of all witches and miracles,came your valor thither?"
"Simply enough, and owing neither to witch nor miracle. The night beforelast we passed the mouth of the bay in our two canoes, which we hadlashed together after the fashion I had seen in the Moluccas, to keepthem afloat in the surf. We had scraped the canoes bright the daybefore, and rubbed them with white clay, that they might be invisible atnight; and so we got safely to the Morro Grande, passing within half amile of your ship."
"Oh! my scoundrels of sentinels!"
"We landed at the back of the Morro, and lay there all day, beingpurposed to do that which, with your pardon, we have done. We took oursails of Indian cloth, whitened them likewise with clay which we hadbrought with us from the river (expecting to find a Spanish ship as wewent along the coast, and determined to attempt her, or die with honor),and laid them over us on the canoes, paddling from underneath them. Sothat, had your sentinels been awake, they would have hardly made usout, till we were close on board. We had provided ourselves, insteadof ladders, with bamboos rigged with cross-pieces, and a hook of strongwood at the top of each; they hang at your stern-gallery now. And therest of the tale I need not tell you."
The commandant rose in his courtly Spanish way,--
"Your admirable story, senor, proves to me how truly your nation, whileit has yet, and I trust will ever have, to dispute the palm of valorwith our own, is famed throughout the world for ingenuity, and fordaring beyond that of mortal man. You have succeeded, valiant captain,because you have deserved to succeed; and it is no shame to me tosuccumb to enemies who have united the cunning of the serpent with thevalor of the lion. Senor, I feel as proud of becoming your guest as Ishould have been proud, under a happier star, of becoming your host."
"You are, like your nation, only too generous, senor. But what noise isthat outside? Cary, go and see."
But ere Cary could reach the door, it was opened; and Evans presentedhimself with a terrified face.
"Here's villainy, sir! The Don's murdered, and cold; the Indian lassfled; and as we searched the ship for her, we found an Englishwoman, asI'm a sinful man!--and a shocking sight she is to see!"
"An Englishwoman?" cried all three, springing forward.
"Bring her in!" said Amyas, turning very pale; and as he spoke, Yeo andanother led into the cabin a figure scarcely human.
An elderly woman, dressed in the yellow "San Benito" of the Inquisition,with ragged gray locks hanging about a countenance distorted bysuffering and shrunk by famine. Painfully, as one unaccustomed to thelight, she peered and blinked round her. Her fallen lip gave her ahalf-idiotic expression; and yet there was an uneasy twinkle in the eye,as of boundless terror and suspicion. She lifted up her fettered wristto shade her face; and as she did so, disclosed a line of fearful scarsupon her skinny arm.
"Look there, sirs!" said Yeo, pointing to them with a stern smile."Here's some of these Popish gentry's handiwork. I know well enough howthose marks came;" and he pointed to the similar scars on his own wrist.
The commandant, as well as the Englishmen, recoiled with horror.
"Holy Virgin! what wretch is this on board my ship? Bishop, is this theprisoner whom you sent on board?"
The bishop, who had been slowly recovering his senses, looked at her amoment; and then thrusting his chair back, crossed himself, and almostscreamed, "Malefica! Malefica! Who brought her here? Turn her away,gentlemen; turn her eye away; she will bewitch, fascinate"--and he beganmuttering prayers.
Amyas seized him by the shoulder, and shook him on to his legs.
"Swine! who is this? Wake up, coward, and tell me, or I will cut youpiecemeal!"
But ere the bishop could answer, the woman uttered a wild shriek, andpointing to the taller of the two monks, cowered behind Yeo.
"He here?" cried she, in broken Spanish. "Take me away! I will tell youno more. I have told you all, and lies enough beside. Oh! why is he comeagain? Did they not say that I should have no more torments?"
The monk turned pale: but like a wild beast at bay, glared firmly roundon the whole company; and then, fixing his dark eyes full on the woman,he bade her be silent so sternly, that she shrank down like a beatenhound.
"Silence, dog!" said Will Cary, whose blood was up, and followed hiswords with a blow on the monk's mouth, which silenced him effectually.
"Don't be afraid, good woman, but speak English. We are all Englishhere, and Protestants too. Tell us what they have done for you."
"Another trap! another trap!" cried she, in a strong Devonshire accent."You be no English! You want to make me lie again, and then torment me.Oh! wretched, wretched that I am!" cried she, bursting into tears. "Whomshould I trust? Not myself: no, nor God; for I have denied Him! O Lord!O Lord!"
Amyas stood silent with fear and horror; some instinct told him that hewas on the point of hearing news for which he feared to ask. But Jackspoke--
"My dear soul! my dear soul! don't you be afraid; and the Lord willstand by you, if you will but tell the truth. We are all Englishmen, andmen of Devon, as you seem to be by your speech; and this ship is ours;and the pope himself sha'n't touch you."
"Devon?" she said doubtingly; "Devon! Whence, then?"
"Bideford men. This is Mr. Will Cary, to Clovelly. If you are a Devonwoman, you've heard tell of the Carys, to be sure."
The woman made a rush forward, and threw her fettered arms round Will'sneck,--
"Oh, Mr. Cary, my dear life! Mr. Cary! and so you be! Oh, dear soulalive! but you're burnt so brown, and I be 'most blind with misery. Oh,who ever sent you here, my dear Mr. Will, then, to save a poor wretchfrom the pit?"
"Who on earth are you?"
"Lucy Passmore, the white witch to Welcombe. Don't you mind LucyPassmore, as charmed your warts for you when you was a boy?"
"Lucy Passmore!" almost shrieked all three friends. "She that went offwith--"
"Yes! she that sold her own soul, and persuaded that dear saint tosell hers; she that did the devil's work, and has taken the devil'swages;--after this fashion!" and she held up her scarred wrists wildly.
"Where is Dona de--Rose Salterne?" shouted Will and Jack.
"Where is my brother Frank?" shouted Amyas.
"Dead, dead, dead!"
"I knew it," said Amyas, sitting down again calmly.
"How did she die?"
"The Inquisition--he!" pointing to the monk. "Ask him--he betrayed herto her death. And ask him!" pointing to the bishop; "he sat by her andsaw her die."
"Woman, you rave!" said the bishop, getting up with a terrified air, andmoving as far as possible from Amyas.
"How did my brother die, Lucy?" asked Amyas, still calmly.
"Who be you, sir?"
A gleam of hope flashed across Amyas--she had not answered his question.
"I am Amyas Leigh of Burrough. Do you know aught of my brother Frank,who was lost at La Guayra?"
"Mr. Amyas! Heaven forgive me that I did not know the bigness of you.Your brother, sir, died like a gentleman as he was."
"But how?" gasped Amyas.
"Burned with her, sir!"
"Is this true, sir?" said Amyas, turning to the bishop, with a veryquiet voice.
"I, sir?" stammered he, in panting haste. "I had nothing to do--I wascompelled in my office of bishop to be an unwilling spectator--thesecular arm, sir; I could not interfere with that--any more than I canwith the Holy Office. I do not belong to it--ask that gentleman--sir!Saints and angels, sir! what are you going to do?" shrieked he, as Amyaslaid a heavy hand upon his shoulder, and began to lead him towards thedoor.
"Hang you!" said Amyas. "If I had been a Spaniard and a priest likeyourself, I should have burnt you alive."
"Hang me?" shrieked the wretched old Balaam; and burst into abject howlsfor mercy.
"Take the dark monk, Yeo, and hang him too. Lucy Passmore, do you knowthat fellow also?"
"No, sir," said Lucy.
"Lucky for you, Fray G
erundio," said Will Cary; while the good friarhid his face in his hands, and burst into tears. Lucky it was forhim, indeed; for he had been a pitying spectator of the tragedy. "Ah!"thought he, "if life in this mad and sinful world be a reward, perhapsthis escape is vouchsafed to me for having pleaded the cause of the poorIndian!"
But the bishop shrieked on.
"Oh! not yet. An hour, only an hour! I am not fit to die."
"That is no concern of mine," said Amyas. "I only know that you are notfit to live."
"Let us at least make our peace with God," said the dark monk.
"Hound! if your saints can really smuggle you up the back-stairsto heaven, they will do it without five minutes' more coaxing andflattering."
Fray Gerundio and the condemned man alike stopped their ears at theblasphemy.
"Oh, Fray Gerundio!" screamed the bishop, "pray for me. I have treatedyou like a beast. Oh, Fray, Fray!"
"Oh, my lord! my lord!" said the good man, as with tears streamingdown his face he followed his shrieking and struggling diocesan up thestairs, "who am I? Ask no pardon of me. Ask pardon of God for all yoursins against the poor innocent savages, when you saw your harmless sheepbutchered year after year, and yet never lifted up your voice to savethe flock which God had committed to you. Oh, confess that, my lord!confess it ere it be too late!"
"I will confess all about the Indians, and the gold, and Tita too, Fray;peccavi, peccavi--only five minutes, senors, five little minutes' grace,while I confess to the good Fray!"--and he grovelled on the deck.
"I will have no such mummery where I command," said Amyas, sternly. "Iwill be no accomplice in cheating Satan of his due."
"If you will confess," said Brimblecombe, whose heart was melting fast,"confess to the Lord, and He will forgive you. Even at the last momentmercy is open. Is it not, Fray Gerundio?"
"It is, senor; it is, my lord," said Gerundio; but the bishop onlyclasped his hands over his head.
"Then I am undone! All my money is stolen! Not a farthing left to buymasses for my poor soul! And no absolution, no viaticum, nor anything! Idie like a dog and am damned!"
"Clear away that running rigging!" said Amyas, while the dark Dominicanstood perfectly collected, with something of a smile of pity atthe miserable bishop. A man accustomed to cruelty, and firm in hisfanaticism, he was as ready to endure suffering as to inflict it;repeating to himself the necessary prayers, he called Fray Gerundio towitness that he died, however unworthy, a martyr, in charity with allmen, and in the communion of the Holy Catholic Church; and then, ashe fitted the cord to his own neck, gave Fray Gerundio various pettycommissions about his sister and her children, and a little vineyard faraway upon the sunny slopes of Castile; and so died, with a "Domine, inmanus tuas," like a valiant man of Spain.
Amyas stood long in solemn silence, watching the two corpses danglingabove his head. At last he drew a long breath, as if a load was takenoff his heart.
Suddenly he looked round to his men, who were watching eagerly to knowwhat he would have done next.
"Hearken to me, my masters all, and may God hearken too, and do so tome, and more also, if, as long as I have eyes to see a Spaniard, andhands to hew him down, I do any other thing than hunt down that accursednation day and night, and avenge all the innocent blood which has beenshed by them since the day in which King Ferdinand drove out the Moors!"
"Amen!" said Salvation Yeo. "I need not to swear that oath, for I havesworn it long ago, and kept it. Will your honor have us kill the rest ofthe idolaters?"
"God forbid!" said Cary. "You would not do that, Amyas?"
"No; we will spare them. God has shown us a great mercy this day, and wemust be merciful in it. We will land them at Cabo Velo. But henceforthtill I die no quarter to a Spaniard."
"Amen!" said Yeo.
Amyas's whole countenance had changed in the last half-hour. He seemedto have grown years older. His brow was wrinkled, his lip compressed,his eyes full of a terrible stony calm, as of one who had formed a greatand dreadful purpose, and yet for that very reason could afford to bequiet under the burden of it, even cheerful; and when he returned to thecabin he bowed courteously to the commandant, begged pardon of himfor having played the host so ill, and entreated him to finish hisbreakfast.
"But, senor--is it possible? Is his holiness dead?"
"He is hanged and dead, senor. I would have hanged, could I have caughtthem, every living thing which was present at my brother's death, evento the very flies upon the wall. No more words, senor; your consciencetells you that I am just."
"Senor," said the commandant--"one word--I trust there are nolisteners--none of my crew, I mean; but I must exculpate myself in youreyes."
"Walk out, then, into the gallery with me."
"To tell you the truth, senor--I trust in Heaven no one overhears.--Youare just. This Inquisition is the curse of us, the weight which iscrushing out the very life of Spain. No man dares speak. No man darestrust his neighbor, no, not his child, or the wife of his bosom. Itavails nothing to be a good Catholic, as I trust I am," and he crossedhimself, "when any villain whom you may offend, any unnatural son orwife who wishes to be rid of you, has but to hint heresy against you,and you vanish into the Holy Office--and then God have mercy on you,for man has none. Noble ladies of my family, sir, have vanishedthither, carried off by night, we know not why; we dare not ask why. Toexpostulate, even to inquire, would have been to share their fate. Thereis one now, senor--Heaven alone knows whether she is alive or dead!--Itwas nine years since, and we have never heard; and we shall never hear."
And the commandant's face worked frightfully.
"She was my sister, senor!"
"Heavens! sir, and have you not avenged her?"
"On churchmen, senor, and I a Catholic? To be burned at the stake inthis life, and after that to all eternity beside? Even a Spaniarddare not face that. Beside, sir, the mob like this Inquisition, and anAuto-da-fe is even better sport to them than a bull-fight. They would bethe first to tear a man in pieces who dare touch an Inquisitor. Sir,may all the saints in heaven obtain me forgiveness for my blasphemy, butwhen I saw you just now fearing those churchmen no more than you fearedme, I longed, sinner that I am, to be a heretic like you."
"It will not take long to make a brave and wise gentleman who hassuffered such things as you have, a heretic, as you call it--a freeChristian man, as we call it."
"Tempt me not, sir!" said the poor man, crossing himself fervently. "Letus say no more. Obedience is my duty; and for the rest the Church mustdecide, according to her infallible authority--for I am a good Catholic,senor, the best of Catholics, though a great sinner.--I trust no one hasoverheard us!"
Amyas left him with a smile of pity, and went to look for Lucy Passmore,whom the sailors were nursing and feeding, while Ayacanora watched themwith a puzzled face.
"I will talk to you when you are better, Lucy," said he, taking herhand. "Now you must eat and drink, and forget all among us lads ofDevon."
"Oh, dear blessed sir, and you will send Sir John to pray with me? ForI turned, sir, I turned: but I could not help it--I could not abear thetorments: but she bore them, sweet angel--and more than I did. Oh, dearme!"
"Lucy, I am not fit now to hear more. You shall tell me all to-morrow;"and he turned away.
"Why do you take her hand?" said Ayacanora, half-scornfully. "She isold, and ugly, and dirty."
"She is an Englishwoman, child, and a martyr, poor thing; and I wouldnurse her as I would my own mother."
"Why don't you make me an Englishwoman, and a martyr? I could learn howto do anything that that old hag could do!"
"Instead of calling her names, go and tend her; that would be muchfitter work for a woman than fighting among men."
Ayacanora darted from him, thrust the sailors aside, and took possessionof Lucy Passmore.
"Where shall I put her?" asked she of Amyas, without looking up.
"In the best cabin; and let her be served like a queen, lads."
"No one shall touch
her but me;" and taking up the withered frame in herarms, as if it were a doll, Ayacanora walked off with her in triumph,telling the men to go and mind the ship.
"The girl is mad," said one.
"Mad or not, she has an eye to our captain," said another.
"And where's the man that would behave to the poor wild thing as hedoes?"
"Sir Francis Drake would, from whom he got his lesson. Do you mind hisputting the negro lass ashore after he found out about--"
"Hush! Bygones be bygones, and those that did it are in their graveslong ago. But it was too hard of him on the poor thing."
"If he had not got rid of her, there would have been more throats thanone cut about the lass, that's all I know," said another; "and so therewould have been about this one before now, if the captain wasn't a bornangel out of heaven, and the lieutenant no less."
"Well, I suppose we may get a whet by now. I wonder if these Dons haveany beer aboard."
"Naught but grape vinegar, which fools call wine, I'll warrant."
"There was better than vinegar on the table in there just now."
"Ah," said one grumbler of true English breed, "but that's not for poorfellows like we."
"Don't lie, Tom Evans; you never were given that way yet, and I don'tthink the trade will suit a good fellow like you."
The whole party stared; for the speaker of these words was none otherthan Amyas himself, who had rejoined them, a bottle in each hand.
"No, Tom Evans. It has been share and share alike for three years,and bravely you have all held up, and share alike it shall be now, andhere's the handsel of it. We'll serve out the good wine fairly all roundas long as it lasts, and then take to the bad: but mind you don't getdrunk, my sons, for we are much too short of hands to have any stoutfellows lying about the scuppers."
But what was the story of the intendant's being murdered? Brimblecombehad seen him run into a neighboring cabin; and when the door of itwas opened, there was the culprit, but dead and cold, with a deepknife-wound in his side. Who could have done the deed? It must have beenTita, whom Brimblecombe had seen loose, and trying to free her lover.
The ship was searched from stem to stern: but no Tita. The mystery wasnever explained. That she had leapt overboard, and tried to swim ashore,none doubted: but whether she had reached it, who could tell? One thingwas strange; that not only had she carried off no treasure with her,but that the gold ornaments which she had worn the night before, laytogether in a heap on the table, close by the murdered man. Had shewished to rid herself of everything which had belonged to her tyrants?
The commandant heard the whole story thoughtfully.
"Wretched man!" said he, "and he has a wife and children in Seville."
"A wife and children?" said Amyas; "and I heard him promise marriage tothe Indian girl."
That was the only hint which gave a reason for his death. What if,in the terror of discovery and capture, the scoundrel had dropped anyself-condemning words about his marriage, any prayer for those whom hehad left behind, and the Indian had overheard them? It might be so; atleast sin had brought its own punishment.
And so that wild night and day subsided. The prisoners were kindly usedenough; for the Englishman, free from any petty love of tormenting,knows no mean between killing a foe outright, and treating him as abrother; and when, two days afterwards, they were sent ashore in thecanoes off Cabo Velo, captives and captors shook hands all round; andAmyas, after returning the commandant his sword, and presenting him witha case of the bishop's wine, bowed him courteously over the side.
"I trust that you will pay us another visit, valiant senor capitan,"said the Spaniard, bowing and smiling.
"I should most gladly accept your invitation, illustrious senorcommandant; but as I have vowed henceforth, whenever I shall meet aSpaniard, neither to give nor take quarter, I trust that our paths toglory may lie in different directions."
The commandant shrugged his shoulders; the ship was put again before thewind, and as the shores of the Main faded lower and dimmer behind her,a mighty cheer broke from all on board; and for once the cry from everymouth was Eastward-ho!
Scrap by scrap, as weakness and confusion of intellect permitted her,Lucy Passmore told her story. It was a simple one after all, and Amyasmight almost have guessed it for himself. Rose had not yielded to theSpaniard without a struggle. He had visited her two or three times atLucy's house (how he found out Lucy's existence she herself could nevertell, unless from the Jesuits) before she agreed to go with him. He hadgained Lucy to his side by huge promises of Indian gold; and, in fine,they had gone to Lundy, where the lovers were married by a priest, whowas none other, Lucy would swear, than the shorter and stouter of thetwo who had carried off her husband and his boat--in a word, FatherParsons.
Amyas gnashed his teeth at the thought that he had had Parsons in hispower at Brenttor down, and let him go. It was a fresh proof to him thatHeaven's vengeance was upon him for letting one of its enemies escape.Though what good to Rose or Frank the hanging of Parsons would havebeen, I, for my part, cannot see.
But when had Eustace been at Lundy? Lucy could throw no light on thatmatter. It was evidently some by-thread in the huge spider's web ofJesuit intrigue, which was, perhaps, not worth knowing after all.
They sailed from Lundy in a Portugal ship, were at Lisbon a few days(during which Rose and Lucy remained on board), and then away for theWest Indies; while all went merry as a marriage bell. "Sir, he wouldhave kissed the dust off her dear feet, till that evil eye of Mr.Eustace's came, no one knew how or whence." And, from that time, allwent wrong. Eustace got power over Don Guzman, whether by threateningthat the marriage should be dissolved, whether by working on hissuperstitious scruples about leaving his wife still a heretic, orwhether (and this last Lucy much suspected) by insinuations that herheart was still at home in England, and that she was longing for Amyasand his ship to come and take her home again; the house soon became aden of misery, and Eustace the presiding evil genius. Don Guzman hadeven commanded him to leave it--and he went; but, somehow, within a weekhe was there again, in greater favor than ever. Then came preparationsto meet the English, and high words about it between Don Guzman andRose; till a few days before Amyas's arrival, the Don had dashed outof the house in a fury, saying openly that she preferred these Lutherandogs to him, and that he would have their hearts' blood first, and hersafter.
The rest was soon told. Amyas knew but too much of it already. The verymorning after he had gone up to the villa, Lucy and her mistress weretaken (they knew not by whom) down to the quay, in the name of the HolyOffice, and shipped off to Cartagena.
There they were examined, and confronted on a charge of witchcraft,which the wretched Lucy could not well deny. She was tortured tomake her inculpate Rose; and what she said, or did not say, under thetorture, the poor wretch could never tell. She recanted, and became aRomanist; Rose remained firm. Three weeks afterwards, they were broughtout to an Auto-da-fe; and there, for the first time, Lucy saw Frankwalking, dressed in a San Benito, in that ghastly procession. Lucy wasadjudged to receive publicly two hundred stripes, and to be sent to"The Holy House" at Seville to perpetual prison. Frank and Rose, witha renegade Jew, and a negro who had been convicted of practising "Obi,"were sentenced to death as impenitent, and delivered over to thesecular arm, with prayers that there might be no shedding of blood. Incompliance with which request, the Jew and the negro were burnt at onestake, Frank and Rose at another. She thought they did not feel it morethan twenty minutes. They were both very bold and steadfast, and heldeach other's hand (that she would swear to) to the very last.
And so ended Lucy Passmore's story. And if Amyas Leigh, after he hadheard it, vowed afresh to give no quarter to Spaniards wherever heshould find them, who can wonder, even if they blame?
Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth Page 26