HOW I CAME OUT OF MY BONDS AND OF THE TERRORS OF A FIRE AT SEA
The Devil, ever zealous for the undoing of poor Humanity, surely
findeth no readier ally than the blind and merciless Spirit of
Mortified Pride. Thus I, minding the Lady Joan's scornful look and the
sting of her soft-spoke words, fell to black and raging fury, and vowed
that since rogue and galley-slave she had named me, rogue she should
find me in very truth henceforward if I might but escape my perilous
situation.
And now it was that Chance or Fate or the Devil sent me a means whereby
I might put this desperate and most unworthy resolution into practice;
for scarce had I uttered this vow when a key turned softly in the lock,
the door opened and closed stealthily, and though I could not see (it
being pitch-dark) I knew that someone stood within a yard of me, and
all with scarce a sound and never a word. And when this silence had
endured a while, I spoke sudden and harsh:
"What now? Is it the noose so soon, or a knife sooner?"
I heard a quick-drawn breath, a soft footfall, and a small hand,
groping in the dark, touched my cheek and crept thence to my helpless,
manacled fist. "Who is it?" I demanded, blenching from the touch, "Who
is it? Speak!"
"Hush!" whispered a voice in my ear, "It be only me, master.
Jimmy--little Jim as you was good to. Red Andy don't beat me no more,
he be afeared o' you. Good to me you was, master, an' so's she--took
me to be her page, she 'ave--"
"Whom d'you mean, boy?"
"I mean Her! Her wi' the beautiful, kind eyes an' little feet! Her as
sings! Her they calls 'my lady.' Her! Good t' me she is--an' so's
you, so I be come to ye, master."
"Ha--did she send you?"
"No, I just come to save you from being hung to-morrow like they says
you must."
"And how shall you do this, boy?"
"First wi' this key, master--"
"Stay! Did she give you this key?"
"No, master--I took it!" So, albeit 'twas very dark, the boy very soon
had freed me of my shackles; which done (and all a-quiver with haste)
he seizes my hand and tugs at it:
"Come, master!" he whispered, "This way--this way!" So with his
little, rough hand in mine I suffered him to bring me whither he would
in the dimness, for not a lanthorn burned anywhere, until at last he
halted me at a ladder propped against a bulkhead and mounting before,
bade me follow. Up I climbed forthwith, and so to a narrow trap or
scuttle through which I clambered with no little to-do, and found
myself in a strange place, the roof so low I could barely sit upright
and so strait that I might barely lie out-stretched.
"Lie you here, master!" he whispers, "And for the love o' God don't
speak nor make a sound!" Saying which, he got him back through the
scuttle, closing the trap after him, and I heard the clatter of the
ladder as he removed it.
Hereupon, lying snug in my hiding-place, I presently became aware of a
sweetness that breathed upon the air, a fragrance very faint but vastly
pleasing, and fell a-wondering what this should be. My speculations
were banished by the opening of a door near by and a light appeared, by
which I saw myself lying in a narrow space shut off by a valance or
curtain that yet showed a strip of carpet beyond, and all at once upon
this carpet came a little, buckled shoe. I was yet staring on this in
dumb amaze when a voice spoke softly:
"Are you there, Martin Conisby? Hush, speak low I do command you!"
For answer I dragged myself into the light and stared up at the Lady
Joan Brandon.
"Where am I?" I demanded.
"In my cabin," says she, meeting my scowl with eyes serene and all
untroubled. "I had you brought hither to save you--"
"To save me! Ha, you--you to save me--"
"Because you are not man enough to die yet," she went on in her calm,
grave voice, "so I will save you alive that haply you may grow more
worthy."
"So 'twas by your orders? The boy lied then!" says I choking with my
anger. "'Twas you gave him the key! 'Twas you bade him bring me
hither--"
"Where none shall dare seek you!" says she, all unmoved by my bitter
rage, "So do I give you life, Martin Conisby, praying God you may find
your manhood one day--"
"Life!" quoth I, getting to my feet, "My life at your hands? Now look
ye, madam, rather will I hang unjustly, rather will I endure again the
shame of the lash--aye by God's light, rather will I rot in chains or
perish of plague than take my life at your hands. So now, madam, I'll
out of this perfumed nest and hang if I must!" saying which I turned to
the door, but she checked me with a gesture.
"Stay!" she commanded, "Would you shame me?" And now though she
fronted me with proud head erect, I saw her cheek flush painfully.
"Aye, verily!" quoth I, "A lady's honour is delicate ware and not to be
cheapened by such poor rogue as I! Fear nothing, lady, I will go as--"
I stopped all at once, as came footsteps without and a light tapping on
the door.
"Who is it?" she called, lightly enough, and shot the bolt with nimble
fingers.
"Only I, sweet coz," answered a gay voice, "And I come but to warn you
not to venture on deck to-morrow till justice hath been done upon our
prisoner."
"Shall you--hang him, Rupert?"
"Assuredly! 'Tis a black rogue and merits a worse fate."
"Is he then tried and condemned already, Rupert?"
"Nay, though 'twill be soon done. We have come on such evidence of his
guilt as doth condemn him out of hand."
"What evidence, cousin?"
"His doublet all besmirched with his victim's blood. The man is a very
devil and must hang at dawn. So, Joan, stir not abroad in the morning
until I come to fetch you. A fair, good night, sweet coz, and sweet
dreams attend thee!" And away trips Sir Rupert and leaves us staring
on one another, she proud and gracious in all her dainty finery and I a
very hang-dog fellow, my worn garments smirched by the grime of my many
hiding-places.
"Was this indeed your doublet?" she questioned at last.
"It was."
"How came it stained with blood?" For answer I shrugged my shoulders
and turned away. "Have you nothing to say?"
"Nothing, madam."
"You would have me think you this murderer?"
"I would have you think of me none at all," I answered, and smiled to
see how I had stirred her anger at last.
"Nay," sighs she, "needs must I think of you as the poor, mean thing
you are and pity you accordingly!"
"Howbeit," says I, scowling blacker than ever, "I will get me out of
your sight--"
"Aye, but the ladder is gone!"
"No matter," says I, "better a broken neck to-night than a noose
to-morrow. To-morrow, aye, the dawn is like to see an end of the feud
and the Conisbys both together--"
"And so shameful an end!" says she. At this, I turned my back on her,
for anger was very strong in me. So, nothing speaking, I got to my
knees that I might come at the trap beneath her berth; but next moment
I was on my feet glaring round for some weapon to my defence, for on
the air was sudden wild tumult and hubbub, a running of feet and
confused shouting that waxed ever louder. Then, as I listened, I knew
it was not me they hunted, for now was the shrill braying of a trumpet
and the loud throbbing of a drum:
"Martin--O Martin Conisby!" She stood with hands clasped and eyes wide
in a dreadful expectancy, "What is it?" she panted, "O what is it?
Hark--what do they cry!"
Rigid and motionless we stood to listen; then every other emotion was
'whelmed and lost in sudden, paralysing fear as, above the trampling
rush of feet, above the shrill blast of tucket and rolling of drum we
caught the awful word "Fire!"
"Now God help us all!" cries she, wringing her hands; then sinking to
her knees, she leaned, half-swooning, against the door, yet I saw her
pallid lips moving in passionate supplication.
As for me (my first panic over) I sat me on her bed revolving how I
might turn the general confusion to the preservation of my life. In
this I was suddenly aroused by my lady's hand on my bowed shoulder.
"Hark!" cries she, "Hark where they cry for aid!"
"Why so they do," says I. "And so they may!"
"Then come, let us out. You are a strong man, you will help to save
the ship."
"And hang thereafter? Not I, madam!"
"Will you do nothing?" cried she, clenching her hands.
"Verily, madam. I shall do my earnest endeavour to preserve this poor
rogue's body o' mine from noose and flame. But as for the ship--let it
burn, say I."
"Spoke like a very coward!" says she in bitter scorn. "And a coward is
selfish always." So saying she crossed to the door and reached her
hand to the bolt; but in a leap I was beside her and caught this hand,
'prisoning it there:
"Hark'ee, madam!" quoth I, "You tell me that to hang is a shameful
death, and the noose as good as round my neck. But, before God, madam,
I'll see this ship go up in flame and perish with it ere that noose
shall strangle the life out of me and my wrongs unavenged. So the ship
may burn an it will. Meantime do you seek your salvation and leave me
to seek mine!" Then opening the door I stood aside to give her way;
instead she stood a moment looking on me great-eyed:
"O blind!" says she at last, "To treasure life for your wicked
vengeance! O blind, blind!" Then, and very suddenly she sped out and
away.
Left alone I stood hearkening to the distant uproar and casting about
in my mind how best I might contrive my preservation. And now in my
desperate need it seemed there was but one hope for me and this but
slender, viz., to steal myself up to Adam's lodgment under the poop and
that as soon as might be. To this end I stepped forth of the cabin and
so into a narrow passage-way with divers doors to right and left that
opened upon other cabins, in one of which I espied a cloak and
feathered hat lying where their owner had dropped them; whipping the
cloak about me I clapped on the hat and, staying for no more, hasted on
breathing an air acrid with drifting smoke. Reaching a broad stairway
I climbed at speed and found myself out upon the lofty poop, whence I
might look down on the decks through a haze of smoke that poured up
through the after hatchway, mounting in billowy wreaths against the
splendour of the moon. Here it seemed was gathered the whole ship's
company with mighty stir and to-do, and none with eyes to spare for me.
Howbeit, I stayed for no second glance, but running to Adam's cabin,
found the door unlocked, the which I closed and bolted after me, in the
doing of which I noticed (to my comfort) that this door was mighty
thick and strong and in it moreover a loophole newly cut, with others
in the bulkheads to right and left and all very neatly plugged from
within; and what with this and the musquetoons that stood in racks very
orderly, the place, small though it was, had all the virtues of a fort
or citadel. Here then, so far as might be, I was safe whatever
chanced, since I had but to lift the trap in the floor and descend into
the roundhouse below, whence I might gain the stern-gallery and so the
sea itself. And now, laying by the hat and cloak I cast myself on
Adam's bed and there outstretched in great content, hearkened to the
distant voices and tramp of feet where they laboured to put out the
fire.
Little by little these sounds became merged with the droning of the
wind and the never-ceasing surge and hiss of the seas; lulled by this
and the sense of my comparative safety, I presently fell a-slumbering.
And sleeping thus, dreamed myself young again and playing with the
child Damaris, thrilling to the clasp of her little, childish hands,
joying in the tones of her clear, sweet child voice--she that grown up
I knew for none other than Joan Brandon.