Sibylla and the Privateer

by Marina Oliver

  Sibylla wondered wildly what was happening as they rode headlong through the dunes and out across the firm flat sand. Josselin slowed his horse’s pace several hundred yards out. It seemed to Sibylla that they crossed half the bay. The others reached him and were following his lead as he dismounted. He was pulling off his boots and his coat as he issued swift instructions to his men.

  “Louis, I charge you with the care of Mistress Hurst. She is not to come any further, do you understand? You will pay for it with your life if you disobey! Sibylla, did you hear? You must not, whatever happens, move from here. The rest of you, follow me slowly, and at intervals.”

  He took the rope from his saddle and arranged it over his arm. Sibylla looked on in amazement gripped by a sudden nameless fear. She had not previously heard him speak so urgently.

  She glanced past Josselin across the bay and cried out as she saw a figure of a man she knew instinctively to be Gerard struggling thigh deep in the sands.

  “What is it? Josselin, tell me!”

  “Quicksands, but do not fear, we will have him out,” he said briefly as he ran swiftly but cautiously across the sands.

  Louis had dismounted with the others and came to hold Sibylla’s bridle as though he feared she would urge her horse after Josselin. That indeed had been her first thought. The other men had followed Josselin’s example and taken off their boots and coats. Handing their reins to Louis, they set off in Josselin’s wake, spreading out into a chain as they ran.

  Sibylla looked on in fear. She saw that with every moment Gerard was sinking lower. Josselin was about fifty yards from him now and had slowed to a walk, testing the sands carefully at every step. Several times he stopped and moved a little to the side before continuing. The men were following cautiously in the same path, and slowly Josselin narrowed the gap between himself and Gerard.

  Then he stopped and Sibylla heard him call, but not what he said. Gerard also heard, and looked round wildly for a moment before he focused on Josselin who stood several yards away, hundreds, in Gerard’s frightened estimation, but in reality only about twenty.

  “I am going to throw the rope. Can you tie it around you?”

  Gerard did not think to wonder how it was that the man spoke English. It was all too miraculous.

  “Aye,” he called back, and had to repeat it, for his voice was weak and hoarse.

  Almost before he spoke the rope came snaking towards him. He watched in fascination as it fell within inches of him. He grasped it, but found it too difficult a task with his ebbing strength to tie the rope round his body. His struggles served only to sink him deeper into the sucking sand and the effort was too much for him. Consciousness slipped away.

  * * * *

  Josselin had all the time been edging nearer, his own feet sinking deeper and deeper. Seeing Gerard collapse, he calmly pulled the rope back, and tying one end round his own chest, threw the other to the men behind him who were on slightly firmer ground.

  “Pull when I give the word.”

  He threw himself full length on the treacherous sand and began to squirm his way towards Gerard. At last he reached the almost completely buried man, and getting beside him, put his arms about Gerard and took a firm grip.

  “Pull slowly,” he called, and felt the rope bite into his ribs. For an agonizing minute they remained, the sands reluctant to give up their victim but at last Josselin felt Gerard’s body move and with a sickening squelch he was slowly drawn out of the morass.

  Josselin kept his tight grip on Gerard as they were dragged across the oozing mud. Finally, he felt the rope slacken. Strong arms picked Gerard up and helped him to his feet. Josselin untied the rope from his bruised body and torn shirt as they began to trace their way back to the firm sand and the waiting girl who had been frantic with terror as she watched the daring rescue.

  Ignoring Josselin’s orders, and Louis’s plea to her to stay where she was, she slipped down from the saddle and ran across to the men, sobbing with dread. She ran to the men who carried Gerard and peered apprehensively into his face.

  “He will be safe now, Mademoiselle,” one of them reassured her, seeing the fear in her face. “He has lost much blood and it was a grim struggle.”

  She turned blindly to reach for Josselin who stood close by. He gently put his arm around her and turned her to walk back across the sands.

  When they reached the horses they laid Gerard down. Josselin inspected the wound in his arm and bathed it with wine from a flask. Then he bandaged it more tightly, for it had started to bleed again with Gerard’s exertions and revived Gerard with brandy.

  He came to spluttering, and opened his eyes to see Sibylla sitting beside him. Weakly he smiled and tried to return the pressure of her hand, but the effort was too much. He closed his eyes as he swooned again.

  “We must get him to bed. Where is the nearest inn?” Josselin asked the guide.

  “Not far away, that direction.”

  He pointed south-easterly, and Josselin nodded.

  “Lead us there.”

  They lifted Gerard into the saddle of one of the horses and, with one man riding pillion behind him holding him firmly, and two others close alongside to steady him, they moved off. It was only a short time before they came to the inn and found a jolly, capable landlord who swiftly understood what was needed and set about providing it.

  The landlord’s wife led Sibylla to a room, brought her wine and answered her anxious queries, persuading her that her brother was being cared for efficiently.

  “When they have put him into bed, and he is comfortable, you may go to see him,” the woman said firmly, as she held the glass to Sibylla’s lips.

  Once she was convinced her young guest was satisfied, she left to supervise her maid in attending to the needs of these other guests, while Sibylla waited impatiently.

  * * * *

  It seemed hours later when Josselin came to her. The borrowed clothes were too tight for him and the sleeves of his shirt were too short, hardly visible under his own coat, which had not suffered with the rest of his clothes.

  “Come, your brother is conscious but he has lost a great deal of blood and you must not tire him with questions.”

  She nodded, and let him lead her along a short passage to the room where Gerard was lying. He looked across at her, and Josselin signed to the man who was sitting by the bed to leave.

  Sibylla crossed the room to her brother, and stood looking down on him, smiling tremulously.

  “I thought I had been dreaming,” he whispered. “It really was you. You are here. How? I do not understand.”

  “It is not so odd,” Josselin said quietly. “We were looking for you and followed your trail to the bay, then rode along the shore so were near at hand when needed.”

  Gerard nodded, too weary to ask for explanations, and kept his gaze on Sibylla.

  “I thought you were imprisoned. Randolph said you had been captured by pirates.”

  Sibylla glanced across at Josselin, who was laughing to himself, but she did not have to reply for Gerard went on, almost to himself.

  “No doubt that was part of his lies too.”

  “Do not be concerned, dear Gerard. I am here, and we can explain how later, when you have slept.”

  “Yes, I am tired. Randolph, where is he? I left him in the boat. I had knocked him out.”

  “We could not get to the boat but I have no doubt it will be floated off at high tide and he will drift or be able to sail somewhere. Do you wish me to start enquiries?”

  “No, he will go his own way. I wish for nought more to do with him. I must thank you, sir, for all you have done and are doing for me.”

  “I owe it to you, but let us leave explanations until later. Now Sibylla, I think we must leave Gerard to sleep.” He glanced at the prone figure on the bed. “Someo
ne will sit with you, but try to sleep.”

  * * * *

  Firmly, ignoring her protests, he guided Sibylla out of the room and the man who had been waiting outside slipped back in.

  “I can help to nurse Gerard. Let me sit with him.”

  “Not now. He will be tempted to talk, or try and puzzle out explanations if you are with him. He must sleep and so must you. You have had a most taxing four days and not enough sleep, indeed, not even in a bed last night.”

  Recalling how she had spent the previous night curled up in his arms, Sibylla blushed and looked down.

  “Has no one ever told you how adorably you blush?” he asked.

  “I was never prone to blushing before I met you!” she retorted spiritedly.

  “Oh dear, I am not certain how to take that! Do you mean I am the cause of it? Or you never had cause to blush before, or now find yourself in situations that discompose you?”

  “All of those things, sir!”

  “Oh, Sibylla, not ‘sir’, I beg of you! I like the way you say my name.”

  “I must beg pardon for using it,” she said stiffly. “I did not mean to. It kept slipping out before I was aware of it. I expect it is because of the unusual circumstances we find ourselves in.”

  “I expect it is,” he said gravely. She looked through her lashes at him, suspicious he was laughing at her.

  He had guided her back to her room, and bowing formally, requested the pleasure of her company at supper saying he had asked for it to be served early. Left to her own devices, her thoughts and worries turned to her brother.

  * * * *

  The next day Gerard seemed feverish and his wound was inflamed. Sibylla spent much of her time in his room watching over him, and took her meals there also. She saw nothing of Josselin until late in the evening, but she discovered from one of the men that he had sat up with Gerard the previous night and was sleeping. When he appeared he insisted she walk outside with him. While they strolled along the lanes around the inn he informed her he had sent out to try and discover what had become of Randolph. The only trace had been the boat, which had been found deserted on the beach near Granville on the Normandy coast and restored to its owner.

  “He is no doubt much relieved,” he laughed, recalling the excitable little man, “Though I confess, I am glad not to have to listen to his transports of joy.”

  This established the pattern of the next few days. Gerard got worse and was delirious for much of the time. Sibylla spent most of the day with him, while Josselin took the night watches, assisted by the men. Every evening before supper Josselin made Sibylla leave her post and walk or ride with him, and tried to interest her in the stories of ancient heroes of that part of France, but she was too worried about Gerard to respond with more than polite acceptance of his efforts.

  However, Gerard finally began to improve, the fever abated, and though he slept for long hours he was sensible when he awoke. She was sitting in his room one afternoon, occupied with mending his shirt which the landlord’s wife had washed for her, when she grew conscious of his eyes on her.

  “What is it? What can I get you?” she asked, rising and approaching the bed. He held out his hand to her and smiled. She grasped it thankfully, realizing he was much improved.

  “How long have I been here?” he asked.

  “Almost a week,” she answered. “You should not talk though, for you must conserve your strength.”

  “I will talk but little,” he promised her, “if you will talk to me. I am strong enough to listen, but not strong enough to endure the mystery any longer!”

  She laughed shakily. “I know not where to begin!”

  “First, who is this man who has taken charge of me? You call him ‘Josselin’, and his men ‘my lord’, but I have not heard his full name.”

  She blushed. “He is the Marquis de St. Aubin. He has estates in the south of Brittany.”

  “Where and how did you come to be in his company?”

  She smiled slightly. “He is the pirate Randolph told you captured me.”

  “What? Then that was true? How? I do not understand!”

  “He is not really a pirate–at least I do not think so. He calls himself a privateer.”

  “Even so, a man of his rank! It’s incredible.”

  He fell silent for a while, and she wondered how to go on until he turned his blue eyes, so like her own, towards her.

  “How did you meet?”

  “He captured the boat I was on. Oh, he explained afterwards that he did not normally attack English boats, but thought this one was behaving oddly.”

  “I see. No, confound it, I do not! Which English boat?”

  “The one Randolph hired.”

  “Then that was true also, you eloped with him?”

  “Indeed it was not!” she said indignantly. “Yes, it is true I thought I was in love with him, and wanted to marry him, but I refused to run away with him. It was only when I discovered he knew about your plotting and meant to betray you, and was stupid enough to tell him I knew, that he tied me up, and took me with him on the boat. He intended to follow you to Jersey and betray you and your fellow conspirators there. But Josselin stopped the boat, and though he let the fishermen go, he took Randolph and me aboard his boat.”

  “And took you to his estates?”

  “Yes,” she answered after a slight pause, deciding this was not the time to introduce the complication of the attack on the Spanish vessel.

  “Hmm.” Gerard considered her for a while silently. “Then how did it happen you were searching for me?”

  “Randolph escaped and we guessed he would make for Jersey. We tried to catch up with him, but he reached you first and drew you away from there. What did he tell you? Oh, no, I must not ask questions. You must not talk.”

  “It is soon told. He said you were held captive near Avranches and we were going to rescue you. The rest of the story he told me fits much with yours, except that he told me you had eloped with him.”

  “How dare he! As if I ever would have done so! But then?”

  “We were grounded. I am shamed I had not been taking any notice of where we were going. Then Randolph told me he was a spy for Parliament for I discovered he had abstracted papers from my pocket. As a ruse I tried to bargain with him to return them and offered to help him to marry you if he did.

  ”Up to then I had shown him I did not propose to allow that, and I had not changed my mind. He must have known it, for he would not agree. Then we fought, and he stabbed me, but he was unconscious from hitting his head when he fell, so I decided to cross the sands.” When he shuddered at the memory, Sibylla pressed his hand. “Thank God your Josselin was there, and prepared.”

  They were silent for a while and Gerard closed his eyes. Soon he fell asleep and she resumed her sewing.

  * * * *

  That night, Gerard began to question Josselin.

  “Sibylla told me something of the events leading to this.”

  “Then you know my guilty secret?”

  “You know mine, also! I am puzzled. Why do you do it?”

  Josselin shrugged. “I love sailing and the sea. I also enjoy excitement, danger. It seemed a way of annoying the enemies of my country while indulging myself with my boat! I am selfish, you note.”

  Gerard raised his brows slightly, and smiled. “So you rescue a stranger, and care for him, after riding a hundred miles or more to seek for him? However England is at peace with France.”

  “Yes, but I was curious. That is another of my besetting sins. I wondered what a fishing boat did so close to the shores of France, so I boarded her to discover it. I found Randolph and your sister aboard.”

  He fell silent, while Gerard regarded him. Then Josselin smiled and continued.

  “I did not like th
e look of him and it did not seem your sister was in very good hands. I decided to investigate at leisure.”

  “You were more accurate in your estimation of him than I, who have known him all our lives! To think I trusted him, knowing what he is like.”

  Josselin shook his head slightly. “We rarely consider that those we have known from youth can be evil. I soon realized Sibylla was not in sympathy with him, though naturally she distrusted me at first too and did not tell me the whole story until after Randolph induced her to escape with him and then deserted her.”

  Gerard looked enquiringly at him, and Josselin told him of Sibylla’s ordeal in the caves, the capture of Randolph, and his subsequent release by Julie.

  “Then we set off to follow him. Sibylla insisted on coming too and valiantly put up with all the discomforts of a long ride.”

  “She would,” Gerard murmured almost to himself. “When she was a child, she would ride or tramp with me for as long as I was out. Even then her determination was great.”

  Josselin told him the details of the chase and heard Gerard’s story, and then Gerard again slept.

  The next day he was stronger and able to sit in a chair for a while. He demanded more details from Sibylla and she told him all she could. Then they began to talk of their parents.

  “Mother was distracted when you were missed, but a servant came from Randolph’s home with a note you had left with him saying you were going to marry him.”

  “Poor Mother!”

  “Yes, it was a blow to her, and to Father, but at least they will not have had the worry of wondering what happened to you. It would have been far worse if you had gone without a trace.”

  “Yes, I see that,” she agreed, though still indignant with Randolph for traducing her.

  “As soon as I am fit to travel, I will take you home.”

  She did not seem enthusiastic. “What of your own affairs? Will you not be under suspicion, for Randolph has reported you. It would be dangerous for you to go to England.”