Chapter II: Part 2

"Maybe they are the Spaniards that were in chase of us when we were wrecked," said Hilary. "'Tis not unlike they have come to see what has become of us. Mayhap they saw us run aground, and I doubt not would have been here before but that the wind has been too strong against them all this while."

Our whole company being gathered in the cavern, arms were served out to the men from the galleon's armoury in case the Spaniards should land. The news of their coming wrought marvellously upon Captain Q. He sharpened his sword, donned a breastplate, and told the men, with great exaltation of spirit, that the moment was at hand when we should rove the seas and deal doughtily with our enemies.

The vessels came slowly towards us, and anchored a little westward of the cavern. We saw two boats put off from each, filled with men wearing the leather hats and steel cuirasses of the Spanish soldiery. Spying at them with Hilary, I reckoned that they must number sixty or more. They landed at a point near where my hut had been, and 'twas soon plain from their cries that they had come upon parts of the wreckage of the _Elizabeth_. Some of them ascended the cliff, and went into the woodland, doubtless to gather fruits; whereupon I quitted the cavern, and stealthily made my way up, to see what they were about. I entered the woods after them, and witnessed their stark amazement when they lighted upon signs of the recent felling of trees. Anon they hasted back to their main body on the beach; a council was held, and then the whole company, save only a few men left to guard the boats, set forth with the manifest purpose to search for the woodcutters.

Thereupon Tom Hawke proposed we should seize the boats and row out to the galleons and board them. But this bold device Hilary would by no means countenance. Besides that we knew not what force of men there might still be left on the vessels, we must needs go at the very least two hundred yards in the open ere we could win to the boats, in full sight of the men on guard. The alarm would be given, and the Spaniards might be upon us before we could put off. But since the advantage is ever with the attack, I made bold to put forward another plan, to wit, that we should quit the cavern, steal into the woods, and lay an ambush for the men that were prowling there. This proposal was debated for a while among our assembly, and being presently approved by all, Captain Q, who comprehended everything with perfect soundness of mind, set off with drawn sword in the quality of leader.

We stole out of the cavern secretly by favour of the brushwood screen, and followed him in great quiet round the shoulder of the cliff, winding about thence until we gained the wood. There we stood fast, and I went alone among the trees to discover the direction of the Spaniards' march. I crept in and out as a hunter might stalk his quarry, and by and by perceived them proceeding slowly, in close ranks, silently, and with their matches already kindled. I knew that the course they were taking would bring them in due time to a ravine, narrow, and of no great depth, that wound through the woodland, a little brook running along its bottom. Bethinking me that, could we gain the further side of the ravine, we should be in rare good case to deal with the Spaniards, I sped back to my friends, acquainted them with what I had seen, and led them swiftly through the wood.

We had no sooner taken post in the copse I had designed for our ambush, than we espied the Spaniards coming directly towards us. And then 'twas Captain Q who made our dispositions. However disordered his wits might be in common matters, he lacked nothing in the parts of a skilful commander. Keeping ten with him, of whom I was one, he bade the rest to steal down the ravine, ascend the nearer bank at a convenient spot, and, when they should hear sounds of a fray with us, come with great speed and fall upon the enemy in the rear. Hilary departed very willingly on this errand, and we ten remained close in hiding with Captain Q. I marked how his eyes gleamed, and his lips pressed firmly the one upon the other, and I was fain to conclude he had a very great courage and delight in battle.

His design was to wait until the Spaniards came to the brink of the ravine, and then salute them with a volley. But just as it was the vivid red of his garments that first drew my eyes to him, so now the same brightness made our situation known to the enemy before they came within gunshot of us. One of them spied him, and cried out; the company halted and blew upon their matches; then their captain called to us in a loud voice to yield ourselves, and when we made no answer, he bade his men advance. They pressed forward until they were come within a few paces of the ravine, and set up their muskets on the rests to have good aim at us. And then, to be beforehand with them, Captain Q gave us the word to fire, the which we obeyed all ten together, whereby a half-dozen of the Spaniards fell; and while in all haste we primed our weapons again, their captain divided his company into two bands, and sent them to right and left to scale the ravine and come through the wood upon our flanks. To a seasoned man of war, as doubtless he was, the fewness of our numbers was made apparent when we discharged our guns.

There was not a man of us but knew we stood in great peril. The enemy was of Spain's finest soldiery, and though by the grace of God we English have beaten them many times on field and flood, we have had proofs enough of their valour. If our friends should fail to come at point to our aid, we could not by any means prevail against them. But Captain Q bade us set our backs against trees, half of us facing to the right, half to the left, and we stood there ready to do what Englishmen might against our Queen's enemies.

We could not hear their approach; doubtless they hoped to creep close to us and then overwhelm us in one general assault. My heart smote upon my ribs, and my lips grew wondrous dry; 'tis no mean trial to a man to stand thus awaiting an enemy whom he cannot see, and knowing that in one swift moment he may be at grips with death. And suddenly there was a roar of muskets, and immediately afterwards, through the smoke, I saw the Spaniards rushing towards us. My musket was in its rest; blindly and with fumbling fingers I set my match to the touch-hole and pulled the cock, and, having fired my shot, drew my sword and stood to defend myself. Our volley had checked the onrush, but only for a moment, and I saw a crowd of Spaniards leaping as it were straight upon me. Then Captain Q came to my side, crying out that we would fight shoulder to shoulder, and his presence and cheerful words filled me with a new courage.

The enemy were yet a dozen paces from us, and we had our swords outthrust to meet them, when the air rang with English shouts, and a great din of firing, and some of the Spaniards fell on their faces, and rose not again. The rest came to a halt, threw a glance behind, and beheld our men, with Hilary at their head, springing like deer from the edge of the ravine. This sight was enough for their stomachs. The Spaniards fled as one man, leapt into the ravine, clambered up the other side, and made all speed by the way they had come, to regain their boats. Our men ran after them, and pursued them to the verge of the woodland, and would have continued to the very margin of the sea, but Captain Q forbade them, fearing that, if the enemy saw the smallness of our company, they would rally, and on the open strand would have us at advantage. And so we did not show ourselves much beyond the line of trees, but stood there and watched the Spaniards as they hasted down to the shore, and, embarking on their boats, returned to the galleons.

The tale of our loss was exceeding small. One poor fellow was killed, four had received hurts, but slight. We were all wondrous merry at the happy issue of our ambush, and Captain Q put on the high look and swelling port of a conqueror.

*III*

The enemy having departed, we wondered what they would do, scarce supposing that they would sail away without making another attempt upon us. Yet it appeared that this was their purpose, for as soon as the boats were hoisted aboard, the anchors were weighed, and the ships stood away towards the west of the island. This put Captain Q in a fury. He commanded the men to make all speed to finish and complete their task at the cavern, so that he might sail out and pursue the vessels. But this was mere foolishness, and I humoured him with talk of other fights in store. Hilary Rawdon again dispatched a sentinel up the hill, bidding him to post himself at a spot whence he could see, with the aid of a perspective glass, the channel between Tortuga and Hispaniola. It had come into his mind that the Spaniards had perchance sailed away merely to land on the southern shore of the island, with the intent to march again upon us unawares. But the man told us by and by that one of the ships had heaved-to in the channel to the south, while the other was making all sail to the westward.

"'Tis bound for St. John of Goave or San Domingo, without doubt," said Hilary, "to bring back a force sufficient to annihilate us."

"What grace have we before they can return?" I asked.

"Maybe a week, maybe more. 'Tis always 'to-morrow' with the Spaniards. They put off both the evil day and the good, and many's the time they have come to grief for no other reason than their habit of procrastination. We will make all speed, Kitt. 'Twould be a sin to let this great treasure fall into their hands through any sloth of ours."

The men worked with right good-will, hauling away the rocks from the entrance of the cavern, until they left the passage clear. But even at high tide there was no depth of water sufficient to float the galleon, and we must needs take thought how to bring her to the sea. We soon proved, to our great joy, that she rested on sand, and we had but to dig beneath her, and to cut a channel, and with the flood tide we could haul her out. But we could not begin this work until the next low tide, when the water in the cavern, having now a free outlet, flowed away. We built a dam to prevent its return, and then, by dint of toiling steadily, some resting while the others worked, we contrived in two days to grave out a dock wherein the vessel might ride. The work was done with great quietness, for the enemy's galleon was anchored but a few miles away, and 'twas very necessary that no sound should provoke them to come and spy what we were about. The mariners knew how much hung on their being left undisturbed until the ship could be rigged and towed out to sea, and they put a great restraint upon themselves. There was risk enough in the chance that a Spanish ship might appear off the coast. The spectacle of a dismantled hull could not fail to attract her notice, and if she should be a ship of war there was little hope that the _San Felipe_ would ever sail the sea again.

To step the masts was no trifling business. The stump of the old mainmast was broken off low down and jaggedly, and 'twas a full day's work for the most skilful of the _Elizabeth's_ carpenters to fit the stump for the pine stem they had prepared. The mast itself was but roughly finished. It was not stripped of its bark: the time would not serve for niceties; Hilary indeed doubted whether, with the utmost expedition, we should have the vessel in navigable trim before the galleons returned. By good luck the stump of the mizzen had not been snapped off so low as the others; and a jury mast was rigged in a third of the time the mainmast had taken.

The _San Felipe_ had no boats, all she had carried having been stove in during the earthquake and washed away. But a boat of some sort was needful to tow the vessel out; wherefore, while some men were scraping the hull, and others rigging the spars, the rest hastened to the woods and worked with might and main to fashion a canoe of cedar. Though we employed every minute of daylight, the men taking turns to rest in the hot hours, 'twas full ten days before the work was done. And then one afternoon, when we were lying on the cliffs basking in ease we had not known for many a day, the sentinel espied three sail low down on the horizon to the west.

"Without doubt the Dons are coming back for us," cried Hilary. Then in French he asked Captain Q, with a show of deference, to give us his commands.

"We will sail forth and fight them," cried the dauntless Captain.

"'Tis a brave saying," said Harry Loveday; "but methinks 'twere best to sail out by night and make what speed we may for home. We have the treasure, and though I am as ready as any man to fight when there is somewhat to be gained by fighting, I hold that in our present case, with the enemy maybe four to one, 'twould best beseem us to secure what we have. 'Twas for treasure we came, not for needless knocks."

"There is much reason in thee, Harry," said Hilary, "and I own if 'twere sure we should escape these villain Dons and come safe to an English haven, I might think thy counsel just. But consider: the wind is light; our vessel is in no trim to make good sailing; and if the wind holds as at this present we could scarce run out of sight of the Spaniards before dawn. 'Tis full moon: we should be discerned from a great way off; and when they see us they can run us down. Furthermore, the guns on our galleon are light metal, and we have no great store of powder and ball, so that we are in no case to fight a war-ship, furnished, beyond doubt, with heavy guns. Remember, we barely outsailed the Spaniards even when we were in our own well-found (but ill-fated) _Elizabeth_; and if we could not stand to fight two, as all agreed we could not, how much less can we stand to fight three?"

While Hilary was thus reasoning, Captain Q, who, having given his voice for fighting, was confident we should obey without question, had gotten himself away, so that we were left to converse at our pleasure. I well knew that, by dint of my artifices of persuasion, I could bring the Captain to believe that, whatsoever resolution we might come to, it sprang from him.

"Well, then," said Tom Hawke in answer to Hilary, "if we must not run, for fear of being overhauled, what is left for us to do? If we cannot fight three Spanish ships on the high sea, assuredly we cannot fight the crews of them on land, and 'tis certain as to-morrow's sunrise that we must be discovered here."

"What if Captain Q be right?" said I. "Is not the bold course the best? If we bide here and wait to be attacked, the event will be even as Tom says: the don Spaniards outnumber us, and with all the will in the world we can scarce hold out against them. But might we not attack the vessel at anchor before the three others join with her? Aboard of her we might show a clean pair of heels to the Dons."

"Why didst not speak before, Kitt?" cried Hilary. "The time is fleeting, and while we still prate these vessels are sailing ever nearer. In sooth, yours is the way, and we will obey Captain Q's command."

We had cast down the dam that had been raised, and the tide being at the flood, the sea filled our dock, and we saw with great delight the _San Felipe_ float upright on her keel. The most of us got aboard her; the rest towed her out of the cavern; then they also came aboard, and Captain Q looked round with pleasure on his company.

Having hoisted the sails (poor patched things as they were), we set a course eastward along the shore, the wind blowing from the north-east. Our design was to round the island and come with the wind down upon the galleon at her anchorage off the south coast. We hoped in the night-time we might surprise her and take possession of her, and then slip her cables and make away before the three vessels we had seen could beat up against the wind.

The wind being so contrary, we could make no good offing, and were in some peril of running on sunken rocks, to say nothing of that other peril of meeting an enemy's ship or flotilla. But by sunset we came safe at the north-eastern corner of the island. We rounded the eastern side, sailing large, and turned into the channel betwixt Hispaniola and Tortuga even as the moon rose upon our right hand. A black night would have most favoured our design of capturing the galleon; but our master said we had first to come at her, and being ignorant of the channel, he was right glad to have some light upon the course.

The southern shore of Tortuga bends at its middle somewhat to the north-west, so that for a time the galleon was hidden from our eyes, and we could keep the mid-channel without risk of being seen. But when we had come to that point, our master was fain to steer somewhat nearer to the cliffs: 'twould mayhap ruin our scheme if we were espied too soon by the Spaniards, wherefore he said we had best avail ourselves of the shadows where we could. Hilary and I stood at the helm beside the master, and we were troubled when we felt the keel graze a sandbank. At the fall of night the wind had freshened, and we were making a fair speed, so that if the vessel struck there would be but a small chance of hauling her off, even if she did not spring a leak and take water. By good luck and the care of our master we escaped these perils of shoals, and drew nearer to our goal.

We did not doubt a good watch would be kept on board the galleon, the which had taken up her present station, as we reckoned, so as to guard against any attempt of ours to cross to Hispaniola on rafts or canoes. Doubtless, also, they would have their guns ready loaded and their matches kindled; and maybe the vessel was riding on a spring cable. Hilary bade the most of our men to lie down out of sight, so that when the Spaniards should behold us, as they must soon do, they might not take alarm from a crowded deck.

"We must be wary, Kitt," said Hilary to me. "'Twould be rank ill-luck if she should slip her cable and stand away to meet the galleons out of the west, and maybe fire a gun to give 'em warning."

Being nearer shore, the _San Felipe_ went more slowly than when she was out in mid-channel. We crept round the jutting points and across the coves very stealthily, the men holding perfect silence, so that the Spaniards on the vessel lying at anchor had no warning of our approach and nearness until, as we fetched about a low spit of land, we came to a straight reach of the channel, and beheld the enemy half-a-mile distant. Since secrecy was no longer to be maintained, Hilary bade the master to steer full into the broad path of the moonlight, so that we might be distinctly seen. With his perspective glass the sentinel on the vessel would discover the _San Felipe_ to be of Spanish build, and we trusted that he would suppose her to be a friend. At Hilary's bidding some of our men made ready their grappling-irons, and so we drew nearer to the anchorage.

A light moved on the ship's deck, and we judged that we must now have been seen. As soon, therefore, as we came within hailing distance, Hilary commanded Richard Ball, who had some Spanish, to go into the bows and question what the vessel was.

"The galleon _Bonaventura_, of his Catholic Majesty of Spain," came the answer to his shout. "Heave-to, or we fire! Who are you?"

"The galleon _San Felipe_, chased by corsairs," cried Ball. "Can we anchor hereby?"

"Aye. Heave-to; we will send a boat. Are the corsairs dogs of English?"

"English and French," says Ball, cocking an eye at Captain Q, who was reclining below the level of our bulwarks, so that his red garments should not betray us.

"Cry that our helm is injured, and we will lower sail," said Hilary.

This Ball did, and our master bade the men to lower sail; but before 'twas done we had run very near to the _Bonaventura_, and there was enough way on our vessel to bring her alongside. We had come within a cable length of the Spaniard when we saw her boat let down, and then, our helm being put up, we drifted still closer upon the enemy.

"Bid them beware, or we shall be foul of them," said Hilary.

And as Ball cried aloud, we heard much old swearing on the _Bonaventura's_ decks, the which were at this time thronged with men. The captain (as Ball informed us) cursed our damaged helm very heartily, it being answerable, as he supposed, for this imminent risk of fouling. But in truth our helm was in right good trim, and the master chuckled in merry sort as he ran the _San Felipe_ close alongside of the _Bonaventura_, their bulwarks just touching.

And then, at the word from Hilary, our men cast their grapnels aboard, and our whole company, with machetes and half-pikes from the _San Felipe's_ armoury, leapt upon the _Bonaventura's_ deck. Captain Q was the first to board, and the Spaniards cried out in amazement when they saw his tall red figure springing towards them, rapier in hand, and with two score men behind, all silent, for Hilary had commanded them to hold their peace, lest the other vessels should be near at hand.

The swiftness of our onset took the Spaniards all aback. Some of them, being unarmed, shrank away from us; the rest gathered about their captain at the mainmast, where they stood to ward off our attack, and for some five minutes held us at bay. 'Twas a hand-to-hand encounter; there were no fire-arms used; steel clashed on steel, and many shrewd knocks were given and taken. But, saving in point of numbers, the odds were all against the hapless Spaniards. The very look of Captain Q, his strange garb, his war-lit countenance, had some part in daunting them, and as we pressed vehemently upon them, Hilary and Tom Hawke in the fore-front, they fell into a panic, and cast down their arms, crying for quarter. Hilary bade our men instantly seize them and carry them below, and within a little they were all safe bestowed and battened under hatches.

And now I espied their boat that had been lowered making all speed to the westward, and I asked Hilary whether we should not pursue them, believing that their intent was to acquaint those on the approaching galleons with what had befallen.

"Let 'em go," cried he, with a laugh. "If they do fall in with the vessels and tell them their tale, we shall be departed ere they can bring them to us."

"And they will not reach them," said Tom Hawke. "See, the boat has run upon a reef."

'Twas even as he had said. The crew strove hard to pull the boat clear, but without avail, and then they leapt overboard and waded waist-deep towards the shore. Not all of them came safe to it. On a sudden we heard a blood-curdling scream, and then another. Beyond question some of the hapless men had fallen a prey to ground-sharks.

*IV*

The _Bonaventura_ having thus become ours, we made haste to bring to her such useful stores as the _San Felipe_ contained, and the chests holding the treasure. I went with Captain Q into the cabin, and observed with what pangs he saw his chests in the hands of our men. He stood on watch when they were set on a cradle for slinging on deck; and followed every movement with a jealous eye until the chests were bestowed in the cabin of the _Bonaventura_. They were three in number, two large and one small, and when the two former had been removed, Captain Q appeared content, and was for leaving the third behind. I remembered that I had never seen this one open, and knowing what delight he took in contemplating and fingering the contents of the others, I could not but suppose that the smallest chest held things of little worth. Seeing that the Captain appeared in a mind to leave it, I asked him whether that was his intent, and he replied that it held nought but old papers, accounts, and bills of lading, and such-like things, and told me very courteously that I might have it for my own. 'Twas not a gift I greatly valued, but I would not vex him by refusing it, and so I made one of the men convey it to the _Bonaventura_.

While the mariners were busied about transferring the things from the one vessel to the other, Hilary took counsel with his friends as touching the disposal of the Spanish prisoners now huddled in the hold. I spoke for carrying them with us, and putting them ashore either on some island we should pass on our homeward voyage, or on the coast of Spain when we had crossed the ocean. But Tom Hawke cried out very stoutly against this.

"Why should we burden ourselves with them?" he said. "The ship will sail the lighter without them; and bethink ye what a monstrous deal of food they will consume! Let us batten them down in the hold of the _San Felipe_ and so leave them."

"As I live, a right good notion!" said Hilary. "Be sure they will be found when the other vessels come up, and 'twould please me mightily an I could see the meeting. 'Twill be a cause of delay also, for they will assuredly tell what has befallen them, and every minute thus filled will better our chances of escape."

"But they will increase our enemies' force, and, moreover, we shall lose as many minutes in carrying them from this vessel to the _San Felipe_," said I.

"Which we shall gain by the lightening of our freight," replied Hilary. "And we will e'en set about it at once, while the men are still bringing the goods aboard."

Whereupon the Spaniards were brought up in small parties and conveyed to the _San Felipe_. And then, all things being ready, the _Bonaventura_ cast off and made sail, beating up against the wind as she retraced the course we had followed before.

The sun was rising as she came out into the open sea beyond the south-eastern corner of the island. 'Twas Hilary's design to set a straight course for England.

"There is treasure enough aboard," he said, "and did we essay to gain more we might lose what we have. Remember the dog in the fable; let us not lose the substance by grasping at the shadow."

"I fear me we shall have trouble with Captain Q," I said. "His mind is set on taking up his old trade of corsair, and he will not readily quit these haunts of the sea-rovers."

"Then he will e'en be a Jonah, and we had best cast him at once overboard," cried Tom Hawke.

"Nay, let us leave him to Kitt," said Hilary. "Mind ye how Kitt wrought upon us with his tongue when we discovered him in the hold? Kitt shall be our ambassador."

As we made the north-eastern corner of the island we espied, far away to the west, two Spanish galleons making what speed they could against the wind, and, we doubted not, coming in chase of us. At sight of them Captain Q was beset by a great excitement, and called upon our master to heave-to and await the villain Dons.

"Ay, ay, sir," was the ready reply. But seeing that the moment was now come when I must employ my best arts to bring him to accord with us (and, for all that Hilary had said, I had no great faith in my tongue's persuasiveness), I led him apart, and by degrees brought him to an understanding of the resolution to which we had come. 'Twas for some time a question whether the Captain's passion for fight or his avarice would get the better of it in his unstable mind, but the balance turned in our favour when I took him down into the cabin, and, pointing to the treasure-chests, asked him whether he could endure to risk the loss of things so precious. He stood in deep thought for a while; then, heaving a great sigh, he yielded.

All that day the Spaniards continued to hold us in chase, and when with the veering of the wind they gained somewhat upon us, I marked how the eyes of Captain Q lit up as it seemed that we must fight in our own despite. But they dropped away again, and at nightfall were hull down upon the sea-line, and when next morning's sun arose they were nowhere to be seen.

From that time the Captain fell into a settled melancholy. 'Twould seem that the sudden changes that were come about in his life, after eleven years of solitude, had put a strain upon his already enfeebled intellect 'twas unable to bear. He sat for long hours on deck, gazing towards the shores he would never see again, silent, taking no heed of us or of aught that happened around him. Nay, he ceased to watch over his treasure with the same jealousy, and when Hilary and the other adventurers could no longer curb their impatience, but demanded to see the wealth which they were to share, he consented, with a wan and feeble smile. We opened the chests in his presence, only Hilary, Tom Hawke, and I being there with him.

My report had prepared my friends to see gold and jewels of great price, but they were none the less amazed beyond measure when the contents of the chests were displayed before them. One, the property of Don Alfonso de Silva de Marabona (his name was writ in full upon the cover), held enough to make us all rich beyond our dreams. The other, consigned to his Catholic Majesty King Philip himself, was filled with rare gems, the value whereof we could not so much as guess. "By my beard, Kitt," cried Hilary, "'twas a rarely kind fate that sent thee as slave to thy Admiral Marrow-bones. We might have roved the seas full ten years without getting a tithe of this treasure."

"And it vexes me sorely to think that my friend Antonio can profit nothing by it," said I.

"Reck nothing of him," cried Tom Hawke. "What does that little chest of thine contain? Let us see, old lad."

"'Tis only papers, as Captain Q told me," said I, looking for confirmation at the Captain, who, however, sat listless and inattentive in his chair.

"Well, let us see them," said Hilary. "Maybe they will give us the true value of this store of gems."

We opened the chest, and Tom Hawke sniffed and hemmed when he saw that it held indeed nought but a few documents, somewhat mildewed and yellow. They were all writ in the Spanish tongue, not one of us could read them; and though Richard Ball had some skill in speaking the language, he confessed when I asked him that he could not even read his own native English, and so was not like to be of service here. We laid the parchments again in the chest, I promising myself that when we came to port I would have them overlooked by some one who was well acquainted with the language of Castile.

The _Bonaventura_ made quick sailing, and we had fair weather until we came off the Azores, where we suffered a heavy buffeting from a storm. Somewhat battered, our galleon sailed into Southampton Water one day in March of 1588. Captain Q had aged ten years in his aspect during the two months' voyage. He rarely broke his silence, yielded with a patient smile to my least suggestion, and seemed even to have forgotten the treasure which had once been so dear to him. When it came to be divided, a tenth share was set apart by general consent for the poor witless gentleman, and being well placed through the offices of an attorney of our town, the Captain might live in his own house and enjoy great comfort for the rest of his days. One-third was apportioned among the mariners, every man of them becoming possessor of means sufficient to keep him luxuriously for his rank and condition. An eighth was allotted to me, and the remainder parted out among Hilary and his fellow-adventurers.

As soon as might be I placed the documents from my chest in the hands of a man well skilled in the Spanish tongue. And then to my great joy 'twas proved that one of them had a vast importance for my friend Antonio. The story told him by the admiral, his uncle, was false. Don Antonio, so far from having sold his estates in Hispaniola to his brother, had in fact purchased the admiral's estates; the document in question was a conveyance drawn up in due form according to the law of Spain. Having learnt this, I was hot set to have the document conveyed to Antonio, so that the wrong he had suffered might be undone. It may well be conceived that, in that year when the great Armada was being fitted out against us, there was no communication between us and Spain, and if I had waited until the two nations were reconciled, 'tis like that the admiral would have enjoyed his ill-got wealth for long years undisturbed. But I found means, through some excellent friends, to dispatch the document to Don Antonio's lawyers in Madrid (their name being writ upon it) by way of Paris; and many years afterwards, when I had a humble place at her Majesty's court, I learnt through the Spanish ambassador that right had been done.

Eighteen years ago, when I journeyed to Madrid for behoof of Prince Charles, there seeking a bride, ('twas on my return that King James made me a knight), I found my old friend Antonio a grandee of Spain, and a very stout and (I must own) pompous gentleman. He did not recognise me: indeed, 'twas not to be expected that he should, seeing that when he had known me my cheeks were as smooth as the palm of your hand, and the hair of my head thick and strong; whereas now I am bearded like the pard (as Will Shakespeare says), and my locks, alas! are sparse and grizzled. But when I made myself known to him he clipped me by the hand, and thanked me with exceeding warmth for what I had been able to do for his good. Moreover, he told me that his own uncle Don Alfonso had been aboard the foremost galleon of those two that stood in chase of us when we sailed away that day from Tortuga. The noble admiral was cast into a wondrous amazement when he came upon the _San Felipe_, the which had been so long lost, and lived ever after in a constant dread lest his ill-doing should be brought to light. This wrought so heavily upon his mind that it became disordered, and when the full tale of his crime was brought in due time from Spain he sank into a dotage and shortly after died. Don Antonio was pleased to give me, in remembrance of our ancient friendship, a signet ring which had been his father's, and I have it in my cabinet, not caring overmuch to wear such gauds.

As for Captain Q, he dwelt for many a year in the house we bought for him at Bitterne, across the river. I saw him often; his wits were quite gone, poor gentleman! and he remembered nothing of the strange happenings that brought us together. 'Tis forty years and more since I made a journey to the little village of Quimperle in Brittany, in hope that I might discover somewhat of the family of one who must have been a notable figure there in his youth. 'Twas a bootless quest. Some of the more ancient inhabitants remembered a young Huguenot named Marcel de Monteray who had fought in the wars of religion, and had been, 'twas said, a captain in the army of Conde; but he had never returned to his native place, and all his kinsfolk were long since dead. Whether Marcel de Monteray and Captain Q were the same person I do not know, and never shall. When I spoke the name in the Captain's hearing it brought nothing to his remembrance. To all Southampton, as to me, he was ever a mysterious personage. As Captain Q he lived, and when his time came to die (and he was then of a very great age), as Captain Q he was buried.

*Interim*

My grandfather told me that upon his return, after near a year's absence, his parents' joy was such that they forbore to upbraid and scold him; indeed, they killed for him the fatted calf, as it were, and made much of him. His father was for putting him again to school, but he protested that he had had enough of schooling, and desired nothing more than to follow a man's vocation. Thereto his father consented, provided he first kept a term or two at one of the Inns of Court, and learnt so much of law as would suffice for a justice of the peace when he should have come to man's estate.

It was in the summer after his return that the great fleet upon which the King of Spain had spent so much pains and treasure came at last to invade our shores; and my grandfather, being then at home, hied him to Southampton, to learn the course of its progress. He watched enviously the English vessels sail out from the haven, even the smacks and shallops being filled with young lads and gentlemen of the county eager to bear their part in the fray, or at the least to witness the unequal combat between the cumbersome great vessels of the Spaniards and the light, nimble ships that my Lord Howard commanded, with his lieutenants Drake and Hawkins and Frobisher and the rest. To serve with those great seamen was not permitted him, but he accompanied Sir George Carey when he ran out in a pinnace on the night of July 24, and found himself, as he wrote, "in the midst of round shot, flying as thick as musket-balls in a skirmish on land." But for the strict command of his father, doubtless he would have followed the Armada up the Channel, and beheld how it was stung and chevied, and finally discomfited in the Calais roads.

About twelve months thereafter, claiming the fulfilment of his father's promise, he joined himself to the company that his friend and captain Hilary Rawdon was raising for service under King Henry of Navarre, whose fortunes were at that time at a turning point. King Henry III, his cousin, had fallen to the assassin's knife, and Henry of Navarre should then have ascended the throne of France; but he was of the Huguenot party, and the Catholic League was bent upon crushing the Huguenots and excluding Henry from the enjoyment of his heritage. The army of the League, commanded by the Duke of Mayenne, held Paris; and Henry, desiring to put an end to the religious struggle that rent France asunder, and to make himself master of a united kingdom, saw himself constrained to fight for his crown. His army was choice and sound, but small, and in his extremity he sought the help of Queen Elizabeth, who sent him aid in money and men, and permitted gentlemen to enlist voluntarily under his flag. Many flocked to him, both as upholding his rightful cause, and from the love of adventure, and hatred of the Spaniards, with whom the Leaguers were in alliance. At that time my grandfather, his age being but eighteen, was moved rather by the latter considerations than by the former, though in after years the justice of a cause held ever the foremost place in his mind.

Henry of Navarre had broken up the siege of Paris and withdrawn with his army into Normandy, hoping thereby to tempt the Duke of Mayenne to follow him, and so enforce him to a decisive battle. Mayenne, on his side, issuing forth from the city, had sworn to drive the Bearnais into the sea, or to bring him back in chains. Such was the posture of affairs when that adventure befell my grandfather which I set down as he told it me, as now follows.

*THE SECOND PART*

*CHRISTOPHER RUDD'S ADVENTURE IN FRANCE,
AND HIS BORROWING OF THE WHITE PLUME
OF HENRY OF NAVARRE*

*I*

When I survey the backward of my life, and con over its accidents and adventures, my thoughts are drawn as by a magnet to one point of time--the moment when, through mirk and darkness, benighted in a strange place, I saw the glimmer of a light.

'Twas as foul a night as ever I saw: the sky black as Erebus; the wind howling like unnumbered poor lost souls; the rain, that smote me full in the face as I rode, stinging my flesh as each particular drop were a barb of fire. I pulled my cloak about me, and bent low over the pommel, to gain some shelter from the storm; but little comfort had I thereby, for the rain beat in betwixt my neck and the collar, and, moreover, my horse's hoofs cast up a plentiful bespattering of mud from the sodden road.

My outer man being thus discommoded, I was yet more ill at ease in my mind, for I had some little while suspected, and was now assured, that I had lost my way. I had ridden that road but once before, when I made one of Hilary Rawdon's troop that he took from Dieppe on outpost duty to St Jacques. By this time, according to my recollection, I should have come to the Bethune river, by whose bank the road runs nearly straight to Arques; but having met with some hindrance in my journey, night had overtaken me or ever I was aware, and with the darkness came the sudden bursting of the storm. What with the one and the other I could not doubt that I had strayed into one of the by-roads about Dampierre, and was now as helpless as a mariner without compass or glimpse of star.

I was musing how best to escape out of this pother when, on a sudden lifting of my head, I saw upon my left hand, level with my eyes, the blurred twinkle of the light. With a muttered benediction I turned my horse's head towards it, resolved, whether it shone from prince's mansion or shepherd's cot, to beg shelter there until the fury of the storm was abated. But I had not ridden above five yards before I found myself checked by a quickset hedge, the which made me to dismount and lead my horse up and down, seeking for some gate or gap whereby I might approach the light. Within a little my groping hand taught me that the hedge was neighbour to a low wall, and searching further, I knew that the wall was ruinous, the top being ragged and uneven where bricks or stones had fallen away. Then, touching a gatepost, and so learning that the gate was removed, I was on the point of leading my horse through the gap when my good genius whispered a hint of caution. Hilary Rawdon had dispatched me back on an errand of moment to the King; I should prove but a sorry messenger if, for my comfort's sake, I ran into any peril; 'twas meet that I should first find out what manner of house this was; for all I could tell, it might harbour an enemy. With this thought I led my horse across the lane ('twas no more), and coming after a few paces to a clump of trees, I hitched his bridle to a bough, took a pistol from the holster, and made my way afoot through the mire towards the beacon light.

The mud lay very thick, and there were besides many obstacles in the path, whereon I stumbled, being unable to see them for the darkness. Nevertheless, I picked my way among them as well as I could, holding my sword close lest it should clash upon a stone, and so came to the house, the which I perceived now to be of a good largeness. The ray shone through a chink in the shutter of a window some few feet above my head. The door was at my left hand, at the top of a flight of steps. Being resolved not to seek admittance until I had learnt somewhat of the inmates, I clambered upon the window-sill, the which being very wide gave me good foothold, and setting my eyes to the chink, I peered into the room.

My eyes were at first dazzled, from so long being in the dark; but within a little I saw two men seated at a table, between me and the light, the which came from two large candles set close together. Their backs were towards me, so that I could not tell with any certainty what manner of men they were; but from their shape I judged them not to be of the labouring kind; and indeed the room, so much of it as I could see, the chink in the shutter being but narrow, appeared to be an apartment of some splendour.

Now I had been sent by Hilary Rawdon to let King Henry know that the Duke of Mayenne was moving towards him from the eastward with a great army, without doubt intending to give him battle, word having been brought to St Jacques by a peasant that the duke was no more than forty miles away. The house whereto I had come could not be above four or five miles from the King's camp at Arques, wherefore it might be supposed that these men were friends of the King. Yet it crossed my mind that they might peradventure be Leaguers, and while I was in any uncertainty I durst not seek shelter with them, nor could I with any conscience proceed on my way. It behoved me, therefore, to make some further discovery, if that were possible, and having no satisfaction in what I had seen, I descended from my perch, and treading very warily, crept along the wall at my right hand, purposing to make the circuit of the house, in the hope to learn something more. By good hap the rain had now ceased, the sky was clearing, and, the month being August, the darkness was not so deep as heretofore; indeed, the stars were now visible, and there was a lightness that seemed to foretell the rising of the moon.

The house was all in darkness, save where I had seen the light. When I came to the corner I saw a smaller building some dozen rods apart, and there, as I passed it, I heard the sound of horses drawing their halters, whereby I guessed it to be the stables. And I perceived now many signs of disorder in the garden--statues overthrown and broken, fragments of wood and porcelain, and other things which led me to believe that the house had lately been put to the sack, and made me go with the more caution. Stealing through the garden to the back of the house, I found a door, which, when I pushed it, yielded an inch or two, but no more, by reason of some barricade behind. A little beyond it, however, I came to a window hanging loose upon its hinges; and after I had waited a moment to be sure that I was neither seen nor heard, I squeezed my body through, and entered a small room which, when my eyes became accustomed to the dimness, I perceived to be empty. There was a door at the left hand. Holding my sword under my arm, I drew my dagger, and crept across the room to the door, which, when I came to it, I found to be ajar. I pulled it towards me, desisting for a moment when it creaked, and listening, with a fear that the sound might have been heard. But there was nothing to alarm me, and having opened the door just so wide as that I might pass through, I came out into a long wide hall, which I could not doubt led to the chief entrance.

Here I paused, as well to recover breath--for my excitement had winded me--as to listen again. From my right came the low rumble of voices, and in an interval of silence I heard on my left hand, towards the main entrance, as I guessed, the sound of deep breathing as of a man asleep. Though the storm had ceased, there was still a slight moaning of the wind as its gusts took the eaves, and trusting to this to shroud my movements, I crept along the passage in the direction whence I had heard the voices, which came more clearly to my ear, yet muffled, as I advanced. Thus I arrived at a door on my left hand, and perceiving this to be open, I entered very stealthily, and saw that I was in a large and lofty chamber divided in two by a curtain.