When the Heavens Fall

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Why, it’s not crazy at all, sir. You’ll have fresh horses all the way. You can travel all the way there, and even if Mendoza figures out that you’ve taken the girl, it’ll be too late. You’ll be safe aboard a ship.”

  “Yes, if there is a ship.”

  “Why, the Lord Jesus had to say more than once to his disciples. ‘Where is your faith?’” Philemon smiled. “You’ll see, sir. This is too clever for me to think of. It has to be of the Lord.”

  “Well, it’ll probably get us both killed, but I don’t have any better plan. I’ll deal with Mendoza for the horses, and we’ll depart tomorrow for San Sebastián.”

  Brandon rode directly to the Mendoza villa. He asked to see Mendoza, who fortunately was home. “I have decided on the horses I want, Señor Mendoza. I’ll take twenty of them.”

  “Excellent! They are the finest horses in Spain.” Mendoza’s eyes gleamed. “When will you leave?”

  “As soon as I can. I’m anxious to get home.”

  “Come along. You can show me which horses you want, and then we’ll settle up.”

  Brandon had examined the horses more than once, and he had a good eye for horseflesh. He picked out twenty of the finest that Mendoza had and haggled with him over the price. They arrived at something that was close to being fair, and Mendoza said, “Will you need help getting them to the ship?”

  “No, my man and I can take care of that. We’ll go slowly. I think I’ll look them over a little more if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course. They’re your horses now.”

  As soon as Mendoza left, Brandon went back to the corral. As he suspected, Dolores knew he was there and slipped out to meet him. It was not long before she came out. She came to stand beside. He whispered, “Dolores, we must leave at once.”

  “You mean today?”

  “No, not today. You know that old dead tree that you can see from your bedroom window?”

  “Yes, of course. We pass it every time we go to the river.”

  “I’ll be leaving with the horses, but I’ll be back for you as soon as I make arrangements. Here’s what you do. Every day you look at that tree. One day you’ll see a piece of white cloth tied to a small branch. When you do, that’s the signal that I’m back, and we’ll get you away from here.”

  “But how can we do it, Brandon?”

  “When you see the flag, tell your parents you need to go see that friend of yours, Damita. Pretend to spend the night with her. You’ve done it often enough. That night, after everyone is asleep, you slip out. I’ll be waiting near the outside gate.”

  “What about the guards?”

  “I’ll take care of that. I’ll be there waiting for you.”

  “Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, Brandon!” Dolores reached out, then quickly drew back her hand and nervously glanced around. “Just think. Soon we will be out of here and we’ll be free to marry.”

  Brandon managed a smile, but that was all he could do. “Remember. Watch for that flag. I must go now.” He turned and left quickly.

  Philemon was waiting for him. “Will the girl be ready?”

  “She’ll be ready. Now, let’s get these horses out of here. The quicker we get to the sea and find a ship, the better I’ll feel about it.”

  Obtaining the horses took little time. Brandon had them roped together nine to a group. The plan was he would lead half the horses, and Philemon the other half. They were getting ready to leave when Mendoza came out.

  “Leaving so soon, señor?”

  “Yes, Señor Mendoza. I’m very proud of these horses and eager to get them home to England.”

  “It will be quite a way to San Sebastián.”

  “We plan to leave from Corunna.”

  “Well, they have a fine harbor there. You come back any time you need some fine horses.”

  “I’ll do that, señor. Farewell.”

  Brandon took the lead rope of one group of horses and led them out of the compound. Philemon did the same, and as soon as they were clear, they picked up the pace. They rode hard all day, and by dark they had reached Brihuega. Brandon had no trouble in finding someone to board two of the horses for a few days. Then he found a room for himself and Philemon. They ate and then went to bed at once.

  As he lay there on his pad, Brandon was gloomy. “I don’t think this is going to work. It’s too complicated.”

  “You just wait and see, sir,” Philemon assured him. “God never fails. His ways always come to pass.”

  “Well, there it is,” Philemon said, “San Sebastián.”

  They were down to the last two horses now, for the rest had all been stabled along the way. Finding proper places had been troublesome, and it was a complicated plan. If just one thing went wrong, all would be lost. Brandon nodded in a gesture at the harbor. “I’m going down to see if there’s a ship. You find a place to stay.”

  There were several ships in the harbor, but none of them was bound for England. He spent all morning and part of the afternoon trying to find a ship. He even offered to pay a captain to go back to England, but the captain was adamantly opposed.

  That night Brandon was disgusted. “This plan won’t ever work. We’ll have to take the herd to some other harbor.”

  “Don’t give up too quickly,” Philemon said. “Get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow is a new day.”

  Brandon was so discouraged and filled with tension that he slept very little until the early hours of morning. He woke up when Philemon came in and said, “Sir, a ship came in today. It’s a Dutch ship, the Flower, and I’ve talked to one of the sailors going back to Holland. They have to pass right by England.

  Brandon dressed quickly and went down to the harbor. Sure enough, there was a three-masted ship. He went aboard at once and asked one of the sailors, “Is the captain here?”

  “That’s him on the quarterdeck there.”

  Brandon made his way to the quarterdeck. “My name is Brandon Winslow. You are the captain, sir?”

  The sailor was a short and rather bulky individual. He looked Dutch: guileless blue eyes, blond hair, and a florid complexion. “My name is Jan Kirkegard. What may I do for you?”

  “I have a rather unusual request, Captain.”

  “Well, let’s hear it.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “We are headed for Portugal. We unloaded all our goods here, and now we’re going south to pick up cargo destined for Holland.”

  Brandon hesitated. “This may sound mad, but I’d like to persuade you to take me and my two companions to England.”

  “With what cargo?”

  “None, and we’d be the only passengers.”

  “I can’t afford a trip with only three passengers. I have to have a cargo.”

  “What sum would you need to be able to take us there?”

  “Including making up for my losses if I don’t import Portuguese goods?”

  “Yes.”

  Kirkegard stared hard at him. “Are these criminals you’re talking about? I won’t have anything to do with that.”

  “No. It’s my manservant and a young woman. We have to get away from Spain.” He hesitated and then said, “We’re hoping to steal away to be married, Captain. Her father is an important man, so the young lady and I need to get as far away from him as we can.”

  The captain’s stern face broke into a sly smile. “What’s his name—the father, I mean?”

  Reluctantly Brandon said, “His name is Jaspar Mendoza.”

  “Jaspar Mendoza? He was a pirate in his younger days. He raided a ship that my father was on. Killed most of the crew. Is he still a pirate?”

  “From what I can gather, he’s interested primarily in landlocked opportunities of late. What do you say? Can you wait until I get the young lady and then leave as soon as we get back? I’ll pay your price.”

  “You must be a rich man.”

  “If it is fair, I will pay it.”

  “All right. Let’s go down to my cabin, and you can tell m
e more about this plan.”

  Brandon knew after a moment that his one chance was to tell the absolute truth. Captain Kirkegard had penetrating blue eyes and a look of experience. He was likely to see through lies. Brandon decided to lay the whole truth before him, and he did so. He ended by saying, “So we’ll have fresh mounts all the way to the end, and as soon as we get here, you’ll cast off and take us to England.”

  “That would take a miracle, sir.”

  “I suppose it will, but I must try.”

  Kirkegard leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Finally he gazed at Brandon and said, “Well, sir, I am a young man, and on behalf of all those men who forfeited their lives in his attacks, I would like the opportunity to rob a pirate of his stolen booty. Get your sweetheart.”

  18

  A s soon as Dolores looked out the window in the late afternoon, her heart seemed to leap. “There it is!” she whispered. “The white banner! Brandon’s come to take me away!”

  At once she packed a small bag with clothes suitable for travel. Going downstairs she said, “Mother, I’m going to spend the night with Damita, if that will be all right.”

  “I thought we were going to finish our plans for the wedding. It will soon be upon us.”

  “We can do that later. Damita’s going to help me make tiny nosegays out of dried flowers for the guests.”

  Her stepmother wavered, considering. “All right. Come back in the morning, though.”

  “Yes, I will, Mother.”

  Leaving the house, Dolores went at once to the home of her friend Damita, and Damita’s mother, Señora Ricardo, met her with a smile. “Damita’s not here, but she’ll be in later. Come in, and make yourself at home.”

  “May I have the same room I had the last time?”

  “Why, of course. Go and put your things there. Damita shouldn’t be too long.”

  The time seemed to pass very slowly for Dolores. She was nervous, but by the time Damita returned, she had made herself calm. The two girls spent the rest of the day making nosegays, which Dolores knew would never be used. Perhaps Damita can use them when she marries. The work kept her hands and mind occupied as she waited for nightfall.

  “Are you excited about your wedding?” Damita asked.

  “Oh, I suppose every woman is excited about her own wedding,” Dolores said, looking away.

  Damita hesitated. “But he’s such a dry stick of an old man.” She immediately looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak in such a fashion.”

  “It’s all right. Don’t even think about it.”

  The evening passed slowly. Then Dolores went to her bedroom. She paced the floor for two hours until the house was still. Quickly she changed into the riding clothes she had stuffed into her bag.

  She opened the door very carefully; when it squeaked rather loudly, her heart gave a lurch. She remained perfectly still, however, and heard nothing. She scurried down the stairs to the front door. It was bolted with a steel bolt that grated when she undid it, and again she paused, but no one came. She edged the door open, being as quiet as she could, and stepped outside.

  A dark shadow suddenly appeared. “Dolores? Over here!”

  “Brandon, you’re here!”

  “Yes. Come now, we must get away quickly, Dolores.”

  “What about the guards at the gate?”

  “We don’t have to worry about that. There was only one, and he won’t bother us.”

  “Did you—did you kill him?”

  “No. I just got him drunk. He won’t wake up for hours. Come along.”

  Dolores held tightly to Brandon’s hand as they made their way across the compound. A dog barked at Brandon’s reproof but then was silent. They reached the gate, and by the light of the moon she could see the guard, slumped with his back against the wall, unconscious. It was good that Brandon had come for her here—at home there would have been three more guards. They passed through the gate, and he led her to a clump of trees.

  “It’s going to be a hard ride, Dolores. We’re going straight through, if we can, all the way to San Sebastián.”

  “We can do it, Brandon.” Excitement came to her then, and she turned to him and said, “Tell me you love me!”

  “What man could keep from loving you?” Brandon said. “Come now, there will be time for talk later.” Dolores was disappointed. This was the most dramatic and romantic thing that had ever had happen to her. But she knew that they had to hurry. Her father would be after them soon enough. The two of them walked their horses until they were past Damita’s house. As soon as they were clear, they mounted and he said, “Ride as hard and as long as you can.”

  “I will. I’m riding to freedom and love!”

  Brandon said, “That’s true enough. Come along.”

  As they sped down the road illuminated by a full silvery moon, Dolores was happy.

  She did not glance back as the town disappeared in the distant shadows.

  Captain Kirkegard had become rather fond of Philemon. Both of them were Christians, and every day they talked about doctrine. Kirkegard had wormed out of Philemon most of the details about Brandon.

  They were sitting on deck at high noon when Philemon jumped to his feet. “Look. There they come! Master Winslow and the young woman!”

  Kirkegard raced down the gangplank, closely following Philemon.

  The man and the woman dismounted. Kirkegard noted that the horses were lathered and the young woman looked strained and tired.

  Philemon said at once in English, the one language they all shared, “Captain Kirkegard, may I present Miss Dolores Mendoza.”

  “I’m very pleased to know you, ma’am.”

  “Captain, it’s good to see you.” Kirkegard saw that she had a good smile. She asked, “Are you going to take us to England soon?”

  “As soon as you can get aboard.”

  “You mean we can leave now?”

  Kirkegard pulled off his hat and scratched his head. “Well, we can try. Please notice, there is almost no wind. If God smiles, it will pick up. Come aboard now.”

  Kirkegard led the way, and Philemon came forward with a smile. “Well, Master Winslow, we’ve got a miracle.”

  “Not yet. Come, let’s do what we can to be ready,” Brandon said abruptly. He escorted Dolores on board, and Captain Kirkegard shouted orders for men to board the two horses, then loose the sails. He paused to say, “Philemon, show this lady her cabin.”

  “Certainly, Captain, I’ll do that.” Philemon led the way below and stopped at a door. “This will be yours, ma’am. We’ll bunk together in that one right there, Master Winslow.”

  Dolores’s cabin was small; it contained only a bed and a table. “It’s not very luxurious, but that’s fine.” She looked at Brandon. He was too large for the cramped passageway. “Let’s go up and watch as we leave the harbor. I’ll be nervous as a cat with a dog on the prowl if I stay down here.”

  “All right.” Brandon helped her up the stairs and onto the deck. They took a position at the rail. Suddenly something changed in Dolores’s face.

  “Look. You see that ship?”

  “That one over there? The Mirenda?”

  “Yes. That’s my father’s ship.” They could both clearly see the cannon lined up along the deck as well as in gun ports along the side.

  “It looks like a fighting ship.”

  “He still owns it. Sometimes he goes away in it and comes back with a lot of money.”

  “Still dabbles in piracy, then?”

  “I suppose that’s true,” she said, chastising herself inwardly for so foolishly believing him when he said he’d left all that behind.

  Slowly the sails unfurled and were filled slowly by a light breeze. There was just enough to move the Flower out of the dock. Brandon shook his head. “That wind had better pick up or it’ll take forever to get out of this port, let alone make it to England.”

  They were willing the sails to crack open and billow
with wind. The captain came to stand beside them. He glanced up to the sails. He shrugged. “I have hope.”

  “So do I,” Dolores said. “God hasn’t brought us this far for nothing.”

  Mendoza was mad with rage. When he had discovered his daughter was gone, he had every one of his men out searching for sign of her around Damita’s home. It was obvious that whoever had taken her had chosen the cover of darkness, and no one had seen anything.

  Finally César Lopez, Mendoza’s most trusted man, came in. He was smiling. “Good news, sir.”

  “It had better be. What is it?”

  “The guard who was drunk at his post said the man who gave him the liquor was an Englishman.”

  “An Englishman? Winslow! He’s stolen my daughter!” Rage suffused Mendoza’s face, and his eyes glittered with fury. “I will kill him slowly! He said he was heading northeast, but that was to throw us off.”

  “He came from San Sebastián.”

  “And that’s where he’s headed. Get the best horses we have and all the men you can round up. We may still catch them.”

  “What’s the date, I wonder? I’ve lost count,” Dolores said.

  “It’s April 16. My uncle’s birthday. I wish we were there with him.”

  They were standing on the deck, looking down at the water. The ship was still moving very slowly, struggling forward on the feeble breeze. Suddenly Dolores clutched Brandon’s arm. “I’m so happy, Brandon. Are you? How do you feel about what’s happening?”

  “It’s exciting,” Brandon said. He was very much aware of the beauty of this young woman and her soft form pressed against his side. She clung to him. He knew that sooner or later he would have to tell her the truth.

  “Tell me about your parents. Will they like me, Brandon?”

  “Of course. They will love you.”

  “When will we be married? Soon, I hope.”

  Brandon looked out across the sea, trying desperately to think of something to say. “You know, Dolores, you’ll have many suitors—a beautiful young woman like you. You may fall in love with a very rich man. Not a poor fellow like me.”

  “No. God sent you to bring me out of slavery, and you’ve saved me. I love you, Brandon.” She pressed herself against him, she laid her head on his shoulder, and Brandon Winslow had never felt such impotence in all his life. The worst of the trial was over, but as she held onto him, he smelled the fragrance of her hair and felt the strong presence of her personality and with a start realized that this was a woman that any man could love—including himself.