by Harold Lamb
“With good cannon shot and powder!”
Drake put down his violin and smiled at Moone.
“At the court of justice,” he amended.
II
The testimony of one Fray Raymundo of Lima, as to the events connected with the visit of the notorious corsair El Francisco Andreque to that town, as forwarded to his Majesty, King Philip the Second of Spain, upon occasion of the inquiry into the most strange circumstances that did there befall his Excellency the Governor of Peru.
When the shadows lengthened along the plaza of El Callao de Lima, a certain Fray Raymundo emerged from the doors of his church. On the threshold he paused to gaze at the unwonted activity of the plaza.
Silk banners hung from the windows facing the square. Along the streets leading to it trotted mounted caballeros, their accouterments bright with silver and jewels. From the windows and balconies veiled women did not scorn to show their pretty heads, and their dresses which were of the costliest material and workmanship. By the side of the women, often mestizos, or halfbreeds, loitered Spaniards who had been poorer than the soldiers in the streets a year ago, and now owned silver enough to buy them a dukedom in Spain.
The soldiers themselves had pockets filled with gold and silver which they squandered in the shops for a botija of wine or a throw at the dice. Shouts, songs and laughter echoed from wine-shop to wine-shop through the streets. Money was theirs to spend as they wished, for more was to be had from the mines worked by the enslaved natives, and the occasion was gala.
As he saw the holiday throng, Fray Raymundo remembered that it was the last day of the trial of the four Lutheran dogs who had been taken by the caballeros of Arica. Moreover the English corsair was somewhere off the coast, and rumor said that the corsair captain, El Francisco Andreque, had boasted that he would land and meet his Excellency the Governor face to face. Nothing had been seen of the devil ship, as it was called, but every preparation had been made to welcome it fittingly if it should have the insolence to come to the port of El Callao de Lima.
Into the crowd that had moved along the plaza to the Royal Audencia where the trial was taking place pressed Fray Raymundo, while the soldiers, adventurers and women made way respectfully before his gray robe and pale face. It was his purpose to reach the Royal Audencia in time to see the arrival of the viceroy, and in this he was successful.
Just as the last rays of the sun were touching the silk hangings in the windows, and glittering on the silver trees and ornaments that stood in front of the houses, there was a stir in the throng that filled the plaza, and the governor was seen advancing to the Audencia where the court waited his presence, in company with several of his captains and advisors.
The Most Excellent Lord, Don Francisco de Toledo, Viceroy, Governor, and Captain-General of the Spanish realms in the New World, was no less a monarch in America than was King Phillip II, ruler of Spain, Portugal and Flanders, in the Old World. The gold cloth and velvet of his attire, the emerald clasp that held in place his black cloak, made the appearance of his Excellency no less splendid that that of the Incas who had fallen under his rule.
With the power of the Inquisition which knew no laws at his command, a conquered race enchained to do his bidding, and the mines of the New World at hand to yield enormous riches, there was little wonder that his Excellency’s pride matched that of the only man who could call him servant.
As he pushed through the crowd his Excellency’s dark eyes held recognition for few he met—a distinguished captain of cavalry, a wealthy owner of one of the Potosi mines, a brilliantly dressed woman of his court. The native chiefs who, catching the spirit of the celebration, appeared in the streets in the splendor of their state garments, the governor ignored completely. Fray Raymundo, who had reached a point quite near the path of his Excellency was about to bow, in company with others around him, when something arrested him.
An Indian, who had entered the plaza from one of the streets leading directly to the hills behind the town, ran to the governor and prostrated himself.
“A message, oh, chief of chiefs,” he cried, in Quichua.
Those who were watching the scene saw the governor, before the Indian could speak again, place a foot on the brown, muscled back lying before him. Then his Excellency, well content, wiped his shoes on the Indian and passed on to the Audencia.
A shout of laughter greeted this display of amiability on the part of the governor, and a few curious glances were cast at the native, who picked himself up with a scowl and vanished in the crowd, but not before Fray Raymundo had recognized him as a friendly Indian from a tribe which was hostile to the Spanish rule. Anxious to learn the cause of the man’s act, the priest pushed after him.
The Indian did not linger in the plaza which had been the scene of his disgrace, but entered one of the side streets. The priest was close enough to see him disappear into one of the wine-shops. When he stepped into the place, which was filled with half-caste mine workers, drunken sailors and Peruvians, he found the native he sought in company with several of his tribe, drinking heavily.
To the priest’s civil question about his message the man would make no answer beyond a sullen stare, and a gesture that revealed the mark of his Excellency’s feet on his back. Troubled by the occurrence—for he knew the native to be friendly to the Spaniards—Fray Raymundo was leaving the wine-shop when a half-caste nudged his elbow and whispered hurriedly in his ear.
“I can tell you the man’s message, Fray,” muttered the other, rum thick on his breath. “He says he has seen the devil ship along the coast. There is more that he knows, but the man is angered and will not spit it out until good wine loosens his tongue.”
“The corsair!” exclaimed the fray. “That is news for his Excellency.”
“His Excellency is too ready with his feet, Fray,” retorted the half-caste.
“That is a pity. Still, he should know. I will go to the Audencia. Do you stay by the Indian until he speaks further, and then seek me out at the trial.”
With a gesture of benediction the priest gathered up his robe and turned away. He reflected that the Indian might have been mistaken, and determined to proceed cautiously in relating what he had heard to the authorities. Once more the priest made his way across the plaza, now shrouded in dusk.
Torches in every street scattered the gloom in Lima, and especially along the waterfront every detail of the moving groups of mail-clad soldiers, the whispering Indians in their holiday purple and gold could be seen. Fray Raymundo breathed deep of the fresh night air, and noted with approval that armed forces were guarding the town on each of the roads leading to it, and at the shore, where cannon had been stationed to await the expected coming of the corsair that had visited Arica.
The priest was no believer in steel and cannon to inflict pain on men, but he briefly blessed the hardy soldiers with the gallant captains who made safe the port of Lima from the Lutheran pirate who had stripped the altar cloth from the church of Arica, to give, so the prisoners had declared at the trial, a suitable cloth to their own outlaw priest.
So great was the crowd at the doors of the Audencia that the good fray was able only by persistent effort and frequent requests to allow him to pass, to make his way to where he could command a view of the interior.
At the end of the room farthest from the door sat his Excellency, wearing his customary black cloak, and black velvet cap, with a white ruffle at the throat. On one side stood several of his captains, bronzed, swaggering caballeros who were veterans of jungle warfare. At the other side were grouped the servants of the Inquisition, black-robed slaves of his Excellency. At a long table near these priests sat several scribes who were making note of the proceedings, for the records were to be sent to Spain with the tax of silver in the Santa Maria.
In the cleared space before the governor stood the prisoners, stripped of their arms and accouterments, under guard of halberdiers. They had been brought forth to listen to the conclusion of the trial. Even now, Fray Raymundo
heard one of the clerks of the court reading the indictment against the prisoners.
“Whereby it does appear,” the high voice of the clerk reached his ears, “that these four men be servants of this Francisco Andreque who is no other than a heretic, offending against the grace of his Majesty and his Excellency, the Viceroy of Peru and Mexico. And it is not less certain that they did land at Arica, despoiling the town and defiling the church of most fair vestments, according to their custom, when taken by our brave soldiers of Arica. And this is but one of their insolences whereby it does appear that the English dogs are pirates of the lowest order.”
A buzz of excitement circulated in the crowd. The pallid faces of the followers of the Inquisition gleamed, and beautiful mestizos raised inquiring glances to their attendant caballeros. Only the governor made no sign.
“It is the just opinion of the court,” Fray Raymundo heard the clerk conclude, “that the English prisoners be chastised in the way most fitting to their crime, by order of his Excellency, Don Francisco de Toledo, Governor of Peru.”
Before the governor could speak a tall figure stepped before him, and the priest recognized the man who had been pointed out to him as the leader of the English.
“Would you condemn a soldier to the fate of a villain, señor?” said this man in halting Spanish. “My faith, that were a crime greater than aught we are charged with. Did you not take us prisoner in fair fight?”
The black head of the governor bent slightly, while a smile curled his thin mouth.
“I will hear what you have to say, Señor Falconer. Yet it does not bear the ring of truth to me that you claim to be honorable prisoners of war, when you were taken in act of plunder and lawless despite.”
Fray Raymundo was swept nearer the governor’s seat by the eager crowd which pushed and jostled to catch what was said. Seldom had such an attraction offered, for in one day there was rumor of the presence of the corsair off the coast who had promised in writing to pay a visit to no less a person than his Excellency himself, and four of the English dogs were to be executed. Surely, the Englishman was foolhardy who dared to match words with the governor.
“It is true that I did take some silver vessels and altar cloth from the church,” admitted Falconer bluffly, “but they were for the use of Master Fletcher, our minister, who lacked such things. As for plunder, we took nothing from the coast but silver bars and the cargoes of certain ships. No vessel did we sink with men aboard.”
“Señor,” said the governor, and the priests of the Inquisition nodded, assent, “that were a greater offense than to rob the church gain. Do you pretend that you came not here of your own will, being pirates in the truest sense, since our countries are not at war?”
“We came,” replied Falconer quickly, “in the service of the queen, our sovereign lady, who bade us find a passage to the South Sea, an we could. Our orders were to take toll of the silver that flows from here to Spain and enriches our enemies.”
“Yet, señor,” repeated the governor with a hard smile, “you came to Spanish waters and took toll of Spanish ships, a dishonorable voyage—”
“An honorable voyage, señor,” retorted Falconer, shaking his yellow head, “at her Highness’s command. The silver we take is not for us, but for our country. Spanish silver, forsooth! Wrested, rather, from the people of the New World by despite. Show me the will of Adam which gave the world to Spain, and I will say that we are pirates!”
“You grow scurrilous, señor,” answered the governor coldly. “And you blaspheme without shame in speaking thus of holy matters. An you desire proof of your crimes, I have it here, taken from your person the day you were made prisoner at Arica.”
He produced a roll of parchment from under his cloak and tapped it against his knee.
“This was given me by a worthy captain who found it in your belt. It is in the hand of your master, the corsair chief, who declares that he is coming to Lima to pull my beard for me, and to take what jewels he may. Call you that the letter of a gentleman?”
“My faith,” muttered Falconer, “I knew not the contents of the letter. I was told to leave it in the town where it would be found. ’Tis like my general, in truth—”
“Enough of this,” commanded the governor. “Is there aught to be said relating to the trial?”
Fray Raymundo considered the opportunity good to tell what he had heard about the English ship being sighted near the port. He edged forward to the front of the crowd. As he did so, he was conscious of another pushing in his tracks, and as he raised his hand for attention, this other stepped past him to the clear space before the governor. And Fray Raymundo saw a strange thing.
The newcomer, in spite of the purple robe tucked about him, was the native who had prostrated himself before the governor in the plaza and endured the humiliation of his Excellency’s foot. The priest thought he caught a gleam of hate in the Indian’s eyes, and a brown hand slipped from a fold in the robe.
But the Indian held out nothing more than a slip of parchment to his Excellency, who recognized him not, as he had not seen his face before. All eyes were on the governor as he tore open the parchment and scanned the contents of the letter. As he did so his pale face flushed and the blue veins showed in his forehead.
“What deviltry is this!” he snapped, glaring at the Indian. “A letter, señors, from the pirate chief who says that he is coming to the trial in person this night, and that if a finger of his men be touched before he comes, two thousand Spaniards shall die!”
A silence of amazement fell on the crowd. A laugh rose from a few throats, then stifled. Who was this corsair, to say he would come to Lima through two thousand soldiers and a score of cannon, and to the presence of his Excellency, who, as was well known, had vowed the death of El Francisco Andreque should the latter ever come within reach? Fray Raymundo crossed himself as he thought of the captured towns further down the coast and the ravaged shipping. Surely El Andreque had concourse with the devil, no less!
He caught a few words of the governor, as the latter spoke in a low tone to his captains.
“Where got you the letter?” demanded one of the soldiers of the Indian.
“Chief, I found it upon a table at an inn in the town,” muttered the native.
The captain shrugged his shoulders, and the Indian seized the chance to slip out through the crowd. As he did so, Fray Raymundo saw him shoot a venomous glance over his shoulder at the governor.
“…lights the entire water-front,” one of the soldiers was saying. “No one could land from a vessel without being seen. To make doubly sure, we have ordered all the crews ashore, but some watchmen, from the sixteen vessels at anchor. Another is expected tonight, from Panama. The harbor is quiet, and patrols of the custom-house are out in small boats. Nothing is reported.”
“The roads leading to Lima?” inquired the governor sharply.
“All guarded by men with torches, your Excellency.”
“The streets?”
“Are patrolled and quiet, your Excellency. Two thousand men bear arms tonight in your service, and were El Andreque the devil himself he could not invade Lima now. His ship would be seen entering the harbor.”
“Yet he sends me this missive,” mused the governor. “It is, in truth, in the same hand as the other.”
“A bit of bravado, your Excellency. The English dog barks out of fear, not bravery.”
Without warning the governor tore the parchment in two and stamped the pieces underfoot. His face twisted into a pale mask of rage.
“Fools, idiots!” he snarled, “the man is here in town. Look,” he held up one hand, which was stained with black spots, “the ink upon the parchment is not yet dry!”
The thick ink was in truth still wet upon the parchment, which had not been sanded—the Indian could have received it but a short time before.
* * * *
What came to pass within the next hour occurred with such swiftness that the good fray scarce had time to cross himself and mutter a
prayer as protection against the black art which brought the letter to the hand of his Excellency.
Stooping over, he picked up one of the pieces of parchment, and found that the governor had spoken truly when he said the ink was still wet. The parchment had not been sanded, and when the fray rubbed one of his fingers against it, it made a dark smear. The writing must have been done, thought the priest, within the quarter hour. If so, and if it was truly by the hand of the corsair, El Andreque must be now within the limits of the town.
There was little doubt that the soldiers, dispatched by the governor on the instant, would take their quarry prisoner, in a search of the town. All trace of the Indian in the purple robe who had brought the letter had disappeared.
Swift questions by his Excellency of the captains and custom-house officials made clear the following facts. No man had landed from the shipping in the harbor—seventeen vessels, now that the ship from Panama had been seen to enter the port. No one save some natives from the mines had passed the guards on the roads since nightfall. The soldiers had not observed any strangers in the streets. If El Andreque was in hiding in the town, he must be in the residence of one of the inhabitants.
The priest thought otherwise. To him a man who accomplished the deeds of the corsair was without doubt in league with Satan. What followed upon the words of the governor convinced him of the truth of his belief. For a miracle, to the mind of the fray, was reported by the custom-house officer who burst into the Audencia with a drawn sword and eyes wide with amazement of what he had to tell.
“The harbor!” snapped the governor. “What is toward?”
“The ships are drifting out to sea, your Excellency,” cried the man. “They have slipped their cables! Name of the devil, it is witchcraft. In spite of the watchers we left on the galleons, they are loose from their moorings and drifting away from the town like frightened sheep.”