Cruising on shore is a flat and sorry business to a man who has
obeyed the call of the sea, and I was glad enough when, soon after
Christmas, I was summoned to rejoin my ship. There were already
whispers that war was like to break out again ere long between
England and France, owing to the machinations of King Lewis, who
had procured from the king of Spain on his death bed a will
appointing the Duke of Anjou to succeed him. 'Twas not to be
expected that our good King William, having striven all his life to
prevent Europe from being swallowed up by King Lewis, would tamely
submit to see a great kingdom like that of Spain disappear into
that ravenous maw; and when the new parliament met in February,
1701, it was significant that their first resolution was "to
support His Majesty and take such effectual measures as may best
conduce to the interest and safety of England." There was a
widespread suspicion that the French proposed to invade our shores
from Dunkirk, and Admiral Benbow, who was then commanding in The
Downs, was ordered to use his utmost diligence to frustrate any
such design.
In common with every officer in the fleet I hoped that the French
would take the sea, so that we might have the pleasure of thrashing
them. But in this we were disappointed: I suppose they were
deterred by the knowledge that the channel was swarming with our
ships; for, besides Admiral Benbow off Dunkirk, there was Sir
George Rooke in The Downs, and Sir Cloudesley with six and forty
vessels at Spithead. Whatever be the reason, we saw nothing to
alarm us; and toward the middle of August Admiral Benbow was
ordered to proceed once more to the West Indian station, with two
third rates and eight fourth rates. The French and Spanish both had
large fleets in the Indies, and 'twas to secure our possessions
against attacks in case war should be declared, that Admiral Benbow
was sent out again.
Since it was not expected that we should set sail for several
weeks, I obtained leave from my captain to go to Shrewsbury and
take farewell of my friends. With war imminent, and the possibility
that I might never return; I should not have been happy without
seeing them once again and leaving with their blessing. You may be
sure I took the Hall in my way, for having been almost wholly at
sea since my last visit, I had not heard anything from the family,
and I was anxious to know whether the chancery case had yet been
settled. Mr. Allardyce was not at home when I rode up to the door;
but I was taken to Mistress Allardyce, who astonished me beyond
measure by bursting into tears when she saw me.
"Good heavens, ma'am!" I cried, imagining all kinds of ill, "what
is amiss?"
"Oh, Mr. Bold," says the good lady, "I am so glad to see you. We
are in such trouble."
"Have the Cluddes got her?" I asked, Mistress Lucy being uppermost
in my thoughts.
"No, it is not so bad as that, though I fear that will be the end
of it. But she has left us, and I tremble to think of the poor
child so far away, and among strangers."
"Among strangers! Pray, ma'am, explain," I said, glad enough that
my first fear was unfounded, but marveling much at what had
happened.
"She left us six months ago," Mrs. Allardyce went on. "She has gone
back to Jamaica."
"To Jamaica!" I said. "What on earth induced her to do that,
ma'am?"
"'Twas that dreadful law case, Mr. Bold. The squire lost the day. I
do not understand it myself, he will explain it all to you when he
comes home: he has indeed gone to Bridgenorth this very day to see
his lawyer about it. Oh, Mr. Bold, I am so distressed! If I only
knew she was safe I could bear the separation so much better."
"I do not think you need be uneasy on that score," I said. "She has
friends in Jamaica, as you know; the people there are all very
kind; and you may be sure they will see to her happiness."
"I am so glad to hear that," said the lady. "After all, she is no
longer a child; she is twenty now, Mr. Bold, and has a will of her
own, and great self reliance. We had one letter from her, to say
that she had arrived safely; that was three months ago: I suppose
there has not been time to receive another."
"There has been time, certainly," I replied, with some misgivings.
"Vessels leave Port Royal every week. But her estate is situate a
long way from the port, and maybe it is not convenient to send
letters often."
"'Tis the absence of letters that makes the squire so uneasy. But
for his being unwilling to leave me, I am sure he would have sailed
to Jamaica himself to make sure that all is well. He dotes on Lucy.
'Tis a thousand pities that Roger's military duties will not permit
of his going out. Do you think that Jamaica is a healthy place to
live in, Mr. Bold?"
We were still talking when Mr. Allardyce returned. He was heartily
glad to see me, and at once poured out his tale of trouble. The
Court of Chancery, it appeared, had made Miss Lucy a ward, but
instead of appointing Mr. Allardyce to be her guardian, it had
given that office to Sir Richard Cludde, her paternal uncle. Mr.
Allardyce spoke of the judge with the most bitter obloquy; he was a
cross-grained, dried-up old mummy, said the squire, without a drop
of good red blood in his veins.
"He was prejudiced against us from the beginning, and when our
counsel said that Lucy herself entreated to be placed formally
under my guardianship the old wretch refused to listen, and said
that girls were better seen and not heard. I suppose he has a
nagging wife, and serve him right!"
"And there is no appeal?" I asked.
"Oh, the wretch said we might appeal if we pleased, but meanwhile
'twas the order of the court that Lucy should pass under Cludde's
guardianship. But he had not reckoned with Lucy. While I was in
London about the miserable business she was with Mistress Allardyce
at Bath, where madam had gone to take the waters. 'Twas lucky
Cludde did not know that, for as soon as the decision was made, he
posted off with the decree in his pocket, making no doubt that he
would seize her here and carry her off in triumph. Ha! ha! you
should hear Giles tell how he raved and cursed when he found she
was not here. He demanded to know where she was, but not a man or
maid would tell him; I've raised their wages all round. Meanwhile I
had posted to Bath, and no sooner does Lucy hear what has happened
than she jumps up and cries: 'I'll not have him for guardian for
all the judges in the country. Uncle, I'll go back to Jamaica;
please find me a ship at once.' Egad, I like spirit in a woman.
"Well, being only a stone's throw, you may say, from Bristowe, it
was no long matter to arrange as she wished. I own I was loath to
let her go, but 'twas clear that Cludde would get hold of her if
she remained in the country, and there was no better way to avoid
that. ''Twill not be for long, uncle,' she says when I bid her
good-by. 'In a few months I shall be of age, and then I can snap my
fingers at the Lord Chancellor himself.' And that's one
consolation, Humphrey; she will be of age before the year's out."
"But will not Sir Richard go after her?"
"Not he. He doesn't know--at least I hope not--where she is. And
he's crippled with the gout, and made it ten times worse by rushing
across country in such desperate haste in the wettest month I've
known for a score of years. He came in his coach to see me, and
couldn't stir out of it, his foot being so swathed in flannel. He
roared himself purple, threatening me with imprisonment for
contempt of court and what not, but I laughed in his face, and told
him that Lucy was a Cludde already, and would change her name for a
better one when the time came. That hit him on the raw, Humphrey my
boy; he went away fuming, and I don't think he will drive over to
see me again."
And then, being somewhat cheered by this recollection of his
victory over Sir Richard, he asked me how I had been faring. When
he learned that I was about to sail for the West Indies again, he
gave a gleeful chuckle.
"I wish you luck, my boy," he cried, slapping me on the back, "both
in love and war."
"Sir!" said I, conscious of flushed cheeks.
"Give Lucy my love," he said, "and remember, my lad, that 'tis a
very serious matter to marry a ward of court."
And then he chuckled and laughed again. Seeing that I had never so
much as hinted that any such idea as he suggested had entered my
head, I was somewhat taken aback by the old gentleman's
perspicacity; for if the truth must be told (and it will out,
sooner or later) I had quite resolved in my own mind that as soon
as I attained captain's rank, and had gained some store of prize
money, as I had no doubt I should do, I would endeavor to settle
Dick Cludde's hash so far as his matrimonial project was concerned.
"I will warn off all trespassers, sir," I said soberly in reply to
Mr. Allardyce's remark, and my answer seemed to give him great
delight.
Having said my farewells to my friends in Shrewsbury also, I
hastened back to my ship. We set sail in the last week of August,
being escorted down the channel by Sir George Rooke and Sir John
Munden with a large fleet. On the second of September we left Sir
George off Scilly, and on the twenty-eighth made St. Mary's, one of
the Azores, and remained there some eight days, during which Mr.
Benbow (who was now promoted vice admiral) called his flag officers
and captains together on board the Breda, his flagship, and
communicated to them his instructions. The junior officers and some
of the men were allowed to go in detachments for a few hours on
shore, and it was on one of these trips that I heard a piece of
news that interested me deeply.
I was strolling along with Mr. Venables when we encountered Joe
Punchard and a group of men from the Breda. Seeing me, he touched
his cap, and begged that he might have a few words with me in
private. I went aside with him, and he began:
"That there young lady, sir--wasn't she kin to Dick Cludde--Mr.
Lieutenant Cludde, begging his pardon?" (I had told Joe how 'twas
Mistress Lucy had saved me from a horse whipping when first I
appeared at the Hall.)
"To be sure, Joe," I replied, "she is his cousin."
"That be bad, sir," says he, "and 'twill be worse, by all
accounts."
"What do 'you mean?" I asked.
"Why, sir, one of the men yonder be Jonathan Tubbs, Captain Kirkby
his man, and he was just a-telling of us how Mr. Cludde, when he's
in his cups (which is pretty often) tells a bragging yarn as how
there's a mighty pretty girl out in Jamaicy a-waitin' to be spliced
as soon as he comes to port; and she's a cousin of his, with a fine
property; and he'll invite all the officers of his ship to the
wedding and take 'em teal shooting next day, and--"
"That's enough, Joe," I said. "You had better go and tell your
friend Jonathan Tubbs not to repeat things he hears when he's on
duty."
Joe instantly touched his cap, begged my pardon, and walked away. I
must have worn a very sober countenance when I rejoined Mr.
Venables, for he looked at me oddly, and asked if I had had bad
news. I evaded the question, and he did not press me. It was indeed
bad news in this respect; that 'twas clear the Cluddes knew of
Mistress Lucy's whereabouts. Indeed, for all I knew, Sir Richard
himself might have got well of his gout and made the voyage to
secure his ward. It wanted but a few months to her coming of age,
and while I knew that Dick could not wed her during her minority, I
saw that the very shortness of the time left would make the Cluddes
eager to get her under their influence. I had never met Dick since
that duel of ours on Southsea Common, having deliberately avoided
him; but I said to to myself that I would certainly meet him when
we arrived in Jamaica and make it clear to him that he would
interfere with Mistress Lucy at his peril.
Much as I loved the sea, I now wished heartily that the voyage was
over. But I had to curb my impatience. 'Twas the third of November
when we arrived at Barbados; we made Martinica on the eighth, and
next day came to anchor in Prince Rupert's Bay, on the northwest
end of Dominica, where we supplied ourselves with water and other
refreshments. Thence we sailed to Mevis, and proceeding to Jamaica,
arrived there on the fifth of December, and anchored in Port Royal
harbor.
I immediately got leave from my captain to go ashore, and inquired
of the harbor master whether one Sir Richard Cludde had lately come
to the island. My worst fear was relieved when I learned that it
was not so, but I could not rest until I had satisfied myself of
Mistress Lucy's well being, so I hired a horse and rode out to
Spanish Town, being well nigh choked, I remember, with the dust my
steed's hoofs raised from the sandy road.
And here I had news that gave me the greater shock, for that it was
utterly unexpected. I made my inquiries from a merchant with whom I
had struck up a friendship during my former visit (he was indeed
the father of the Lucetta I have spoken of) and he told me that
Mistress Lucy was certainly living on her estate on the north side
of the island, but added that 'twould not be hers much longer, for
'twas coming into the market by order of her guardian. This was
surprising enough, and I asked to whom the instructions to this
effect had been committed. My friend then said that they had been
brought from England some months before by a lawyer named Vetch,
who was armed with a power of attorney.
"Cyrus Vetch?" I cried, not doubting it, but overcome with sheer
amazement.
"His name is Cyrus, I believe," replied my friend. "He stayed here
a few days, and made himself very pleasant, though I can't say I
took to him myself."
"He is a thorough-paced villain," I said. "Is he still in the
town?"
"No, he is at Penolver." (This was the name of the Cludde estate.)
"He is a masterful fellow, too; he dismissed old McTavish, who has
stewarded the estate since Mr. Cludde's death; the poor old fellow
feels it very sorely, for though he is a pretty warm man, like most
of his countrymen here, he won't take no other stewardship, though
he could have one for the asking, but moons about here in
idleness."
"Does Mistress Lucy write to her friends here?" I asked.
"No, and they are displeased at her silence; but I suppose she
thinks it scarce worth while to write when she will soon be here in
person. She will, of course, return to England when the estate is
sold, and is to make a match with her guardian's son, so they say.
My word! he'll be a lucky fellow."
This news of Vetch's presence was staggering. As Sir Richard's
attorney he had, I supposed, full power to administer the estate,
or to sell it if he pleased; but I thought it a monstrous
proceeding if he did this without Mistress Lucy's consent. I had no
belief in his honesty, and suspected that he would take a pretty
picking of the purchase money for himself. The absence of letters
from Mistress Lucy was disquieting. The presence of the man who had
been Cludde's companion in the abduction must be obnoxious to her,
and it seemed strange that she had not written to her friends in
Spanish Town, and had allowed the report of a projected marriage
with Cludde to pass unchecked.
A notion that she might be under some constraint put me in a
ferment, and I resolved to ride to Penolver and see for myself how
matters stood, and to let Vetch know that, even though I could not
dispute his legal status, he would at least have me to reckon with
if he subjected Lucy to any annoyance or duress.
Returning to the port, I begged leave of Captain Vincent to go for
a few days' visit to a friend on the north side of the island, not
acquainting him with any particulars, because I felt that Mistress
Lucy would not like her affairs discussed. He demurred at first,
saying that we could not tell when we might have to put to sea; but
on my reminding him that the work of refitting and cleaning after
the voyage would take some time, and promising to return within a
week, he yielded.
I set off early next morning, being provided by my merchant friend,
Mr. Gurney, with a trusty companion and guide in the person of a
smiling negro. At first I had purposed to ride alone, but my friend
said that, while I had only to follow the direct road for about
half my journey, which could take me through the well-settled
parish of St. John, afterwards I should run great risk of losing my
way in the cockpit country, maybe stumbling upon a settlement of
wild maroons, or stepping into one of the impassable sink holes
whose grass-grown surface gives no warning of the treacherous chasm
below.
We rode till eleven o'clock, when the air became too hot for
comfortable traveling, and entered a rest house kept by a black
friend of my companion. He met us at the door, his face shining
with heat and good temper.
"Good mornin', Massa; hope I see you well," says he. "Hi, Jacob,
where you bin dis long time?"
He led the way most obsequiously into a large room with a sanded
floor. It was cool and dark after the outside air, being shaded
with green jalousies at the windows. I sat down, glad to escape
from the heat, and Jacob went off with the host to enjoy a chat and
prepare me a meal. Drowsy with the warmth, I was half dozing when a
rough voice aroused me with a start.
"Mornin', yer honor."
My eyes being now accustomed to the dim light, I saw a man seated
at a table at the farther end of the room. He was a burly fellow,
with a look of the sea dog about him.
"Good morning," I replied.
"Ridin' far, yer honor?" said the man again.
"Massa Humf'y Bold ridin' jest as far as Missus Cludde's at
Penolver," said my guide, coming at this moment into the room with
a plate of jams and part of a fowl. "Massa Bold a king's officer,
and don't want do no talk wiv common man. Me do talk for massa."
I laughed at the negro's officiousness, which the man did not
appear to resent. He said nothing more to me, and I soon knew by
his snores that he had fallen asleep.
After a light meal and a long rest, we set off again, and came at
dark to another humble roadside hostelry, where I was glad to put
up for the night. I had not yet gone to sleep when I heard the
trot-trot of a horse, and wondered a little, as the sound died away
in the distance, who could be riding so late. A brilliant moon was
shining, and I thought that perhaps I had done better if I too had
pursued my journey through the night, and rested during the day.
But it was too late to think of that now; I was very tired, and
with the faint sounds of the trotting horse still in my ears I fell
asleep, not awaking till the sun was an hour or two above the
horizon.
'Twas towards evening next day when, after riding through a wild
hilly country, densely clad with tropical vegetation, amid which
the only road was a horse track, my guide told me we were
approaching our journey's end. The road broadened, and by and by
ran between large fields of pasture land. Then we came beneath a
thick grove, and were jogging along carelessly, when my horse
suddenly stumbled and went down with so violent a shock that I was
jerked from the saddle. Before I could get upon my feet, rough
hands seized me, in a trice cords were lashed round me with a
dexterity that identified my captors as seamen, and I was forthwith
hauled along at the heels of as villainous a crew as I had ever
seen. And I knew from sundry moans and howls behind me that Jacob
had been dealt with in like manner.