‘I have tidings to set us again on our true way!’ he cried. ‘At Plymouth in Devon there is a ship newly come in from James Town, as they call it, in Virginia. Rumour hath it Captain Christopher Newport, her master, is he that hath made the first landing in that place since Sir Walter Raleigh and hath established a fort and left settlers. Little is known for sure, but we must act upon it nevertheless.’
‘The Lord be praised!’ Mistress Sugden replied, her eyes filling with tears. ‘This is His doing. Where be this Plymouth and when do we go hence to find it? We are in thy hands, Jock, for finding the ways.’
He was as ignorant as they of the exact position of the southern port though he knew it lay on the English Channel and that there were hills and wild moors and some rivers separating them from that place. So he told Mistress Sugden to settle their reckoning with the widow and with the inn for the stabling of their horses, to pack and be ready to start out at noon so that they would be well clear of Bristol by nightfall and sheltered at some place on their road to the south.
He had gathered his important news at an alehouse near the main part of the harbour where, unknown to him, a vessel of the King’s Navy had put in the night before and now lay at anchor. It was from certain members of her crew who had come ashore that the folk at the alehouse learned of Captain Newport’s arrival in Plymouth Sound, for they had themselves called there and their present mission accomplished, would return.
The object of the mission, not specifically mentioned, was obvious to most of the alehouse customers. When the navy men left the place, the word went round. The press-gang was out. Those drunken fellows had given a warning they never intended and for which they would be cruelly flogged if their indiscretion were ever known.
Many young men in peril quietly left the inns and alehouses as the word went round. Many villainous ruffians prepared to help the press-gang when it came. It was Alec’s misfortune to meet a gang of such when he began his inquiries, after delivering his news to the Sugdens. He had gone to the women too soon from the alehouse to hear the warning, if indeed it had not been kept from him deliberately. So now, asking carefully but not directly as to the best route to take for the Channel ports he did not mention Plymouth and his vague questions met vaguer answers as the rogues nodded, exchanging quick looks.
But not abrupt ones. The strangers’ physique, his queer speech, his ignorance, proclaimed him a foreigner whom it would be no danger to themselves to betray. A little group of accomplices in evil began to follow him quietly, swelling their numbers until about six of them crowded at mid-morning into a small inn, where Alec hoped to confirm the directions he had been given before returning to his lodgings for a meal before the noon departure.
Though he did not recognise all six of his pursuers he did notice three faces he had seen before that morning. He recollected where he had come across two of them, which was at the alehouse where he first had the news of Captain Newport’s ship. He took his tankard over to this group.
‘I hae seen ye afore,’ he said, slipping into his Scots speech at the evident sign of their discomfiture. A plot brewing, he considered, backing swiftly as the group moved to surround him. He backed on towards the door, but slowly, his eyes beginning to shine at thought of a fight.
Put off by those blazing blue eyes and the sight of a great hand darting below the fold of a coat, which was instantly flung round the other wrist in shape of a shield, the villains paused. They did not want a brawl that would bring others to the scene, provoke the guardians of the law, spoil all their chances of selling this valuable property to the press-gang. They had thought to take the great oaf, drunk, when they had weakened him enough to overcome him. His far too lively reaction put them off their stride. They hesitated, fatally.
Alec found the innkeeper beside him, eager to stop matters before they imperilled his house. For some minutes he had considered getting rid of the scum who should never have been allowed in.
‘Be you coming or going, master?’ he asked in a quavering voice. ‘Can I serve you? You know these—’
He had no name for them but included them in a wave of the hand.
Another voice said clearly behind Alec, ‘He goes, unless the press-gang comes before to take him. And any other of you likely lads,’ he added. He was a small man with cold eyes and a precise manner. Perhaps a lawyer, anxious to use whatever power his position gave him.
‘His words explained all to Alec. He turned, swinging the small man towards the innkeeper across the path of the two who had darted forward when they heard the unwelcome warning speech. Alec turned through the open doorway and ran.
It was a nightmare repetition of his first escape in London, but this time the law was not involved, only a gang of desperate criminals, seeking to buy themselves from justice by delivering innocent victims, many not even seamen, to the rigours of service in the King’s ships; Alec thrust his dirk back into its sheath, pushed down his coat and dropped the run to a walk. He planned as he went. He would be a marked man from that hour and very recognisable, as always. So the sooner he joined the women and they all left Bristol City the more chance they had of throwing off pursuit. He did not know if any of the men who had followed him knew where he lodged, for he had not at once realised that he was being followed. Should he delay his return by leading them astray? Or go back at once assuming they would seek him out at the house where the Sugdens waited for his return?
He had quickened his pace again to a rapid walk as soon as he turned the first corner and found there was neither a pursuing figure nor cries to stop him. He turned more corners, found he was lost and wasted nearly an hour finding his way out of the maze of small dwellings clustered behind the big warehouses on the wharves.
It was a near fatal delay, for instead of reaching the lodgings at noon he did not arrive there until half-past one, to find the widow in a state of agitation bordering on hysteria.
When she saw Alec she threw up her hands and cried, ‘The creature swore you were sore hurt or dead! She swore and persuaded them, though I begged them to wait surer tidings.’
‘Mistress Sugden! Polly! D’ye tell me they’re awa wi’out me?’
‘Nay, they left all here to hurry to thy aid. She swore to lead them to where you lay.’
‘She! She! Who was it? Whence came she?’
‘They know her at the inn. Mother Cumming they call her. The lads say, “Old Cunning”. Aye, cunning she be and wicked and an evil seducer of young women. I begged them not to go out but they feared for you and she persuaded them.’
‘Where will she have led them?’ Alec demanded, white with anger and distress, so that the widow trembled for her own safety at his hands.
‘She serves the madam of a whore house; she hath been in the trade, they say, from a young girl. Now she persuades ignorant simpletons into it. Her looks alone should have made Mistress Sugden give heed—’
‘Why dids’t not thou, mistress?’ asked Alec furiously.
‘I was not here by then, only my little maid, who knew no better.’
‘Where is this place?’ Alec roared in his fury at so much female stupidity. ‘Where must I go to find them?’
The widow, almost speechless with fear, whispered some directions he tried to understand. Seeing him become confused she finally took him to her door and pointed along the street, repeating the turnings he must take.
‘Ask for Springer’s,’ she said. ‘Mistress Springer. They know her house, do the men of the neighbourhood. They’ll tell thee and not be surprised at thy asking,’ she added spitefully, for her conscience was very sore at her failure to warn the poor countryfolk of their true danger. All to maintain her own attitude of respectable, god-fearing ignorance, which was false, she acknowledged. God forgive me, she prayed, but was stopped from absolving herself by Alec’s rough voice saying, ‘Mind ye dinna heed any other lying message may come to ye and mind our goods till we come again.’
He was gone before she could agree or resent these instructions,
but she was sincerely sorry for her failure, so she bolted and barred the door and went upstairs to a front window from which she could command the street in both directions and be ready to welcome them back if they should reappear. She half hoped they would for her soul’s sake and half hoped either the press-gang or the brothel or both might upset their plans and leave her with valuable goods to dispose of. She did not want evil to come to them but she was poor, her children were not yet of an age to help her.
Meanwhile Alec strode at a great pace to the house of ill-fame, which he had no difficulty in finding. The door was opened to him by a grey-faced crone in a tight bonnet who on sight of him began to push the door shut again with two wrinkled filthy hands. Alec put his boot in the opening and one hand against the wood so that the old woman tottered away, spitting like an angry cat.
‘Lead me to Mistress Sugden and her daughter,’ he ordered.
‘I did never hear of any such!’ she cried.
‘Ye are named cumming and ye persuaded them to follow to where I lay. Take me to them.’
‘In thy turn,’ she said slowly. ‘In thy turn. Business is brisk the day, for the sailor men have just come into port and their impatience is such—’
‘Mistress Sugden!’ Alec bellowed. ‘Polly! Where be ye? ’ Tis I, come to fetch ye from this bawdy house! Have no fear! Show yourselves!’
His voice brought instant results. There were men’s shouted curses, women’s screams, a hammering on doors, a pattering of feet on stairs. Into the small square hall where Alec stood came an ample, tall woman dressed in flaming red and orange. She had a mass of showy beads and gilt chains about her neck and arms and she carried a whip in her hand with which she lashed out at Alec as she swept towards him.
But she did not strike high enough. He caught the thong and pulled at it so that as she still gripped the handle he dragged her to him and caught her in the circle of one arm and said, ‘So, vixen, I have thee close! Where be the good-wife and her girl yon witch misled into this place? No meat for thy customers, I’ll warrant.’
He laughed into her face, poked at her broad bottom with the whip he held in his free hand, then shook her to force an answer.
Madame Springer gave in. The young ruffian with his queer foreign tongue, his easy strength and blue eyes was a man after her ownheart.
‘Meat!’ she exclaimed hoarsely. ‘They have done naught but blubber since Cumming brought them to me. Set them to work I could not—’
‘Thank God for that!’ Alec breathed. ‘Let them to me and away.’
‘Stay a little.’ With breath-taking insolence she pressed up against him, lifting her wide mouth to say, ‘I have six of the prettiest wenches thou’s seen in all Bristol town and two at this moment—’
He released her with another laugh. It was never wise to anger these women. They could be controlled by kindness, they respected strength.
‘Another time,’ he promised, patting her arm. ‘And here’s an advance on thy fee.’
The money softened her still more. She turned to go but at that moment he saw Mother Cumming steal towards the door to escape into the street. He jumped back to forestall her.
‘And keep this sewer rat within till nightfall,’ he begged. ‘Otherwise—’
Madame Springer shouted, ‘Bertha!’ A figure appeared behind her. ‘Take Cumming and feed her. Keep her close till I tell thee otherwise. And thou, dame,’ she said to the shrinking hag, ‘see what unthinking greed hath brought thee. I have a mind to report this napping to the magistrates. Thou hast done a mischief to my house, no benefit. By witchcraft as like as not. I see no other means those two could have been persuaded hither. For that the penalty—’
With a shriek the old woman rushed away, closely followed by Bertha.
‘Come thee, lad, and take away thy snivelling women,’ the bawd said, smiling grimly. ‘Though what claim they have on thy protection passes my understanding.’
Alec did not answer her. It was not her business. Besides, he was not very sure of any answer he might give beyond a common purpose and a common ignorance of how that purpose might best be fulfilled or indeed fulfilled at all with any hope of success.
When Mistress Sugden and Polly appeared however, humbled, frightened and tearful he had no heart to scold them. He gave an arm to each and led them away, sadder and wiser women for the experience, shudderingly thankful to him for the fate they had missed. Polly was wholly indignant that any could suppose her willing to submit to it, she who had defended herself against many of the lads at Witton. Her mother could not help feeling a morsel flattered, for the madam had suggested that she was nowhere near the age of retirement from these activities and she was surprised Mistress Sugden had not re-wed. This however had not lessened her tears nor her refusals.
At the lodging the widow had the door open to receive them at once with their parting meal, two hours delayed, on the table. They had no difficulty in setting out in mid-afternoon and were well on their way, skirting Bath, to reach Wells before midnight
Chapter Eight
Plymouth, in the late August of that year, still rang with excited gossip, rumour and praise for the tremendous exploit of Captain Christopher Newport and his men. That he and most of his crew had come back at all was amazing. They had been away since December of the year before, when they had sailed in a company of three ships from London, only to be held up in the Downs for several weeks by foul weather. They had had a long voyage, but at last had found their anchorage in that Chesapeake Bay where Raleigh had made his abortive settlement. Now Newport had left over a hundred new settlers there and had come home laden with riches and with promise of gold and copper if not a path struck to that further ocean they all sought.
So ran the tale that met the travellers’ ears when Alec and the Sugdens rode into the town. It lifted their spirits, tired and depressed from such prolonged travel, but with native northern caution all three were inclined to reject the wilder tales. At any rate they needed at least a full day’s rest before making any close inquiries, so they found themselves an inn suitable to their means and took rooms for a week.
A good night’s sleep restored Alec fully, but the women were listless the next day and disinclined to move, so he went out alone, promising to take them round the town later when they were ready to see the sights, particularly the anchorage where Captain Newport’s vessel lay.
‘And make inquiries, Jock, if thou see’st an occasion to ask if any knows of Will. If he be at this new settlement they call James Town? For if none hath heard of him how shall we be certain he be there to welcome our coming?’
‘How indeed, mistress?’ Alec answered. It did appear to him, not for the first time, that the Sugdens’ venture was so hazardous as to seem entirely mad. But he could not say so at this stage, having helped them thus far and being fully determined himself to return with Captain Newport if he was accepted either as would-be settler, or able seaman, shipwright or craftsman in any other trade that was needed.
When, after cautious inquiries, he learned that a sort of office had been opened on the Hoe to give interviews to any who wished to venture on the return trip to James Town, he presented himself with his only credential, Captain Smithson’s of Sunflower, in his hand.
The man who sat behind a table in the little room handed this to a clerk who sat beside him. The clerk read it aloud, after which the man said, ‘Jock Bridie, seaman. That be you?’
‘Aye, so,’ said Alec, who judged rightly the fellow had little authority and was merely there to accept or refuse names that he could not even write down.
They exchanged straight glances; Alec’s did not fall. The clerk leaned over and whispered. Alec did not hear distinctly, but he caught the words ‘size’ and ‘likely fellow’. He, at least, was favourably impressed.
The other said, laconically, ‘We have a full crew.’
Then I would go for a settler,’ Alec answered. He explained his abilities as carpenter, shipwright and so forth. The clerk nodded even
more emphatically.
‘You will be written down to see Captain Newport personally,’ the other told him. ‘Come tomorrow early, by six o’ the morning. You will be taken off to see the captain.’
Though Alec asked one or two more questions he got no answer, which did not really surprise him for there was a long line of men waiting to be interviewed.
When he reported this scene to Mistress Sugden she became thoughtful.
‘Thou did’st not present my case?’ she asked.
‘Nay, mistress. There was no occasion to do so, nor was the man who sat there one who would decide such a matter.’
‘How then shall I go about this business?’
‘Tomorrow, I understand, I am to see Captain Newport. When I explain my position I will speak of ye both to him and ask for William Trent. He will surely know if he be one of their fellowship.’
This he did, finding it easy enough to speak freely to Captain Newport in his cabin on the poop of the Gift of God.
They had been taken off to the tall barque, a party of thirty men in two of the ship’s boats. A very mixed party, Alec thought, with some misgiving, for already the volunteers had been sifted over, as he had been, to sort out any likely settlers from the great crowd of romantics, ne’er-do-wells, felons, weaklings and other unsuitable material that had presented itself. Nevertheless, the possibles still included far too many undesirables, Alec thought. His increasing dejection continued until he reached the barque’s side when he climbed rapidly aboard well ahead of the others in the same boat.
He was taken at once to Captain Newport, who gravely read his testimonial and handed it back to him.
‘I have a full complement,’ he said, but added at once, ‘Not that an extra seaman is not welcome on a voyage when accidents do sometimes occur.’
He smiled suddenly and Alec felt moved to smile back.
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