Chapter III: Captain Hannibal Cleat

IT was quite a sumptuous repast that Mistress Staynton had provided, and Captain Cleat did full justice to it. During the meal he spoke little, saying that 'twas his custom to do one thing at a time, and that right well.

But after dinner was over and the last bumper of sack drained, Master Roger Staynton led the way to the garden. It was a delightful spot, cool even in summer. Seven or eight large oak trees spread their branches over the springy turf of the lawn, that on three sides was enclosed by a lofty stone wall partially garbed in ivy.

Betwixt the trees could be seen the tower of the Church of St. Thomas, but beyond that there was nothing to show that the master-gunner's garden was in the midst of a town. Even the rumble of the carts over the rough streets and the noise and bustle of the townsfolk seemed unable to penetrate the seclusion of this walled-in place; and here in his hours of leisure Master Staynton forgot even his oft-recurring bickerings with the Mayor and his associates.

Here, sprawling at his ease on an oaken bench, Captain Hannibal Cleat made up for his reticence at table, and tale after tale he told of the Spanish Main, of the Caribs, of tempest and calm, of battles against Dons, Turks, and infidels, till I almost forgot I was in the master-gunner's garden.

"The sea! There is naught like it for a sturdy English lad!" he exclaimed. "It passes my understanding why the youth of this country hang back, when so much profit and adventure await them in foreign parts. What say you, young master? Your name has again slipped my memory."

"Ralph Roy," I replied. "And soon I am to be bound 'prentice to learn the art and mystery of a mariner."

"So? To whom?"

"Perchance to Master William Terge, who commands the good ship _Loyalty_, or else to Master Dionysius Savage, of the Ark. But 'tis the amount of the premium that is to be considered, since my mother can ill afford to give much."

"Hast no father?" asked the Captain.

"My father was a Queen's pilot. Richard Roy his name. He was lost off this coast in a great storm. His name, perchance, is known to you, good sir?"

"Roy?" exclaimed the Captain reflectively. "I verily believe I can call him to mind. Have we not met him in the course of our wanderings abroad, Roger?"

"Nay, I cannot recall it, comrade," replied the master-gunner. "I have only made Mistress Roy's acquaintance since she came to dwell in Portsmouth."

"Then let it pass. But should I be able to buy the _Damsel of Lyme_ in open market, wouldst be willing to be bound 'prentice to me?"

"'Tis a small craft to adventure yourself in, Hannibal!" exclaimed Roger Staynton; "and a boy would find it go hard with him in a gale of wind."

"Tut, tut! I mean to have two 'prentices. They would be as happy as sandboys. As for the _Damsel of Lyme_, she is small, yet well found. Which is to be preferred, Roger--a sweet, wholesome craft of little tonnage, with sound gear and well manned, or a lubberly ship with rotten tackle, such as is oft to be seen at sea in all weathers?"

"You already speak as if the pinnace were yours, comrade," remarked the master-gunner with a grim smile.

"Roger, I thought you knew me of old. Hast ever seen me to be bent from my purpose?"

"Ay, once," replied the elder Staynton, laughing. "Dost remember that little affair at Aix in '63?"

"Let that pass," interrupted Captain Cleat, in obvious confusion; then, recovering his composure, he continued: "Well, Master Roy, we'll put off the answer to my question for a while, but should you care to broach the subject to your mother, with the deepest respects of Captain Hannibal Cleat, 'twould not come amiss. Tell her that the premium is of little moment, provided that the 'prentice is able and willing. 'Obey orders unquestioningly': that's my advice to all lads, whether they be budding seamen or mere land-lubbers."

However, I did not mention the matter to my mother that night, preferring to see whether Captain Cleat did succeed in purchasing the pinnace. I had also made up my mind to ask Jack Staynton some questions concerning his father's old comrade; so after breakfast on the following day I made my way to the house in Hog market Street.

Jack was already out, having gone down to the quay with his fishing-line. Thither I hurried, only to find him standing outside the gate, where a broad-sheet had been fixed to a notice board on the wall.

"What do you make of it, Roy?" he asked, being an indifferent scholar. At that time I was only a little better, but by dint of much puzzling and cudgelling of my brains I deciphered the crabbed writing.

It was as follows:--

1) "An Invitory taken y{e} XXI day of June in y{e} XXV yeare of
our soveraigne ladye Elizabeth by the grace of God of Englande,
ffrance and Ireland, Quene defender of the fayth, etc., of all such
goods as are in y{e} Damsell of Lyme of y{e} burden of XXI tunns.

Imprimus a pinnace w{th} y{e} mayne and fore masts and yards to
y{e} same.

Item on grapnell w{th} an olde Cable con XIV vadom.

Item on iron pott w{th} a well kettell.

Item ij longe oars ij bowes, on hand-sawe and ij hatchetts. Item on
ax, on compas, on olde sworde, ij sakers and on culverin.

Item a water barrell and a stoupe.

Item a mayne sayle w{th} a topp sayle.

Item a tilt sayle of VIIj brethes of clothe to the houps.

Item a ship cheste and in the same two remnants of whyte wulley
clothe of IIj elles on littell vynager bottell a q{rt} can a virkyn
of salt.

Item three hogshedds of powder whereof one is spoylt XXIV shott of
yron XXX shott of stone.

By Mr. John Highfield esquire maior it is appointed that y{e}
Damsell of Lyme be sold in open courte on y{e} twenty-nynth daie of
June, 1582 at y{e} houre of XI in y{e} forenoone."

1) Taken from a contemporary record.

"So the pinnace is to be sold in eight days' time," remarked Jack. "Captain Cleat will have to wait awhile. But the charge against the crew was soon proved."

"Ay, up to the hilt. They are to be chained to posts on the foreshore, so that the rising tide will drown them," I replied. "Master Jennings told me of the sentence this morning. But what think ye of your father's guest?" I asked bluntly.

"A hearty sea-dog, nothing more or less," replied Jack. "True, he's given vent to many strange oaths and has played havoc with the mulled ale and sack, but he is ever most devout in all religious exercises, which pleases my mother mightily."

"Is he," I continued anxiously, "a man who would prove a just and honest master? I am in no mind to be bullied and browbeaten by any man."

"I trow you will have to put up with plenty of hard words and harder knocks ere you come to man's estate," replied Jack sagely. "But I would I were with you in this matter, Ralph. Did not Captain Cleat say he would want two 'prentices?"

"Would your father say yea?" I asked eagerly.

"I can but ask him. But here comes the Captain."

"Good morrow to ye, lads," was Captain Hannibal's gruff yet hearty greeting. "I heard it said that the announcement of the sale is out."

"Ay," announced Jack, after he had returned his salutation. "'Tis on the other side of the quay gate."

"By my beard, I can make nought on't," grumbled the Captain, after he had stood in front of the notice, had inclined his head to the left and to the right, and had walked backwards for several paces in his efforts to read the crabbed writing. "Canst read, shipmate?" he bellowed in my ear.

"I'll try, sir," I replied; and, having already deciphered the Town Clerk's manuscript, I proceeded quickly with my task, the Captain gripping my shoulder heavily in his eagerness.

"The twenty-ninth day of June!" he exclaimed impatiently. "What long-winded lubbers they are! Master Jack, your good father will tire of his old comrade ere then."

"Nay, I can answer for that, Captain Cleat," replied my companion. "But if Ralph goes as your 'prentice, could I not go also? I remember you said you wanted two."

"Nay, lad, 'tis not to be thought of. Many a long-standing friendship has been wrecked upon the rocks of enmity through the like. I am too much beholden to your sire to take upon myself the care of his son. 'Twould also capsize the proper feeling 'twixt master and 'prentice were I to have you aboard. Therefore think no more of it, my lad."

Then, observing our crestfallen looks, he clapped each of us on the back. "Cheer-ho! 'tis for the best. Perchance you'll both be shipmates on the same craft ere another seven years are spent. Did you say aught to your mother, Ralph?"

"Nay," I replied. "I waited----"

"Waited for what?" demanded Captain Cleat peremptorily. "Did I not tell you to ask?"

"I thought 'twas a request," I faltered.

"Request? Sink me! I never request--I order. Mark it well."

And, turning on his heel, Captain Hannibal Cleat lurched away in true nautical style, leaving me to wonder at the varying moods of the man who might by mine own choice become my master.