WHAT BEFELL AT LA GUAYRA
“Great was the crying, the running and riding,
Which at that season was made in the place;
The beacons were fired, as need then required,
To save their great treasure they had little space.”
Winning of Cales.
The men would gladly have hawked awhile round Margarita and Cubagua for
another pearl prize. But Amyas having, as he phrased it, “fleshed his
dogs,” was loth to hang about the islands after the alarm had been
given. They ran, therefore, south-west across the mouth of that great
bay which stretches from the Peninsula of Paria to Cape Codera, leaving
on their right hand Tortuga, and on their left the meadow-islands of the
Piritoos, two long green lines but a few inches above the tideless sea.
Yeo and Drew knew every foot of the way, and had good reason to know it;
for they, the first of all English mariners, had tried to trade along
this coast with Hawkins. And now, right ahead, sheer out of the sea from
base to peak, arose higher and higher the mighty range of the Caracas
mountains; beside which all hills which most of the crew had ever seen
seemed petty mounds. Frank, of course, knew the Alps; and Amyas the
Andes; but Cary's notions of height were bounded by M'Gillicuddy's
Reeks, and Brimblecombe's by Exmoor; and the latter, to Cary's infinite
amusement, spent a whole day holding on by the rigging, and staring
upwards with his chin higher than his nose, till he got a stiff neck.
Soon the sea became rough and chopping, though the breeze was fair and
gentle; and ere they were abreast of the Cape, they became aware of
that strong eastward current which, during the winter months, so often
baffles the mariner who wishes to go to the westward. All night long
they struggled through the billows, with the huge wall of Cape Codera a
thousand feet above their heads to the left, and beyond it again, bank
upon bank of mountain, bathed in the yellow moonlight.
Morning showed them a large ship, which had passed them during the night
upon the opposite course, and was now a good ten miles to the eastward.
Yeo was for going back and taking her. Of the latter he made a matter of
course; and the former was easy enough, for the breeze blowing dead off
the land, was a “soldier's wind, there and back again,” for either ship;
but Amyas and Frank were both unwilling.
“Why, Yeo, you said that one day more would bring us to La Guayra.”
“All the more reason, sir, for doing the Lord's work thoroughly, when He
has brought us safely so far on our journey.”
“She can pass well enough, and no loss.”
“Ah, sirs, sirs, she is delivered into your hands, and you will have to
give an account of her.”
“My good Yeo,” said Frank, “I trust we shall give good account enough
of many a tall Spaniard before we return: but you know surely that La
Guayra, and the salvation of one whom we believe dwells there, was our
first object in this adventure.”
Yeo shook his head sadly. “Ah, sirs, a lady brought Captain Oxenham to
ruin.”
“You do not dare to compare her with this one?” said Frank and Cary,
both in a breath.
“God forbid, gentlemen: but no adventure will prosper, unless there is a
single eye to the Lord's work; and that is, as I take it, to cripple
the Spaniard, and exalt her majesty the queen. And I had thought that
nothing was more dear than that to Captain Leigh's heart.”
Amyas stood somewhat irresolute. His duty to the queen bade him follow
the Spanish vessel: his duty to his vow, to go on to La Guayra. It may
seem a far-fetched dilemma. He found it a practical one enough.
However, the counsel of Frank prevailed, and on to La Guayra he went. He
half hoped that the Spaniard would see and attack them. However, he went
on his way to the eastward; which if he had not done, my story had had a
very different ending.
About mid-day a canoe, the first which they had seen, came staggering
toward them under a huge three-cornered sail. As it came near, they
could see two Indians on board.
“Metal floats in these seas, you see,” quoth Cary. “There's a fresh
marvel, for you, Frank.”
“Expound,” quoth Frank, who was really ready to swallow any fresh
marvel, so many had he seen already.
“Why, how else would those two bronze statues dare to go to sea in such
a cockleshell, eh? Have I given you the dor now, master courtier!”
“I am long past dors, Will. But what noble creatures they are! and how
fearlessly they are coming alongside! Can they know that we are English,
and the avengers of the Indians?”
“I suspect they just take us for Spaniards, and want to sell their
cocoa-nuts. See, the canoe is laden with vegetables.”
“Hail them, Yeo!” said Amyas. “You talk the best Spanish, and I want
speech of one of them.”
Yeo did so; the canoe, without more ado, ran alongside, and lowered her
felucca sail, while a splendid Indian scrambled on board like a cat.
He was full six feet high, and as bold and graceful of bearing as Frank
or Amyas's self. He looked round for the first moment smilingly, showing
his white teeth; but the next, his countenance changed; and springing to
the side, he shouted to his comrade in Spanish--
“Treachery! No Spaniard,” and would have leaped overboard, but a dozen
strong fellows caught him ere he could do so.
It required some trouble to master him, so strong was he, and so
slippery his naked limbs; Amyas, meanwhile, alternately entreated the
men not to hurt the Indian, and the Indian to be quiet, and no harm
should happen to him; and so, after five minutes' confusion, the
stranger gave in sulkily.
“Don't bind him. Let him loose, and make a ring round him. Now, my man,
there's a dollar for you.”
The Indian's eyes glistened, and he took the coin.
“All I want of you is, first, to tell me what ships are in La Guayra,
and next, to go thither on board of me, and show me which is the
governor's house, and which the custom-house.”
The Indian laid the coin down on the deck, and crossing himself, looked
Amyas in the face.
“No, senor! I am a freeman and a cavalier, a Christian Guayqueria,
whose forefathers, first of all the Indians, swore fealty to the King of
Spain, and whom he calls to this day in all his proclamations his most
faithful, loyal, and noble Guayquerias. God forbid, therefore, that I
should tell aught to his enemies, who are my enemies likewise.”
A growl arose from those of the men who understood him; and more than
one hinted that a cord twined round the head, or a match put between the
fingers, would speedily extract the required information.
“God forbid!” said Amyas; “a brave and loyal man he is, and as such
will I treat him. Tell me, my brave fellow, how do you know us to be his
Catholic majesty's enemies?”
The Indian, with a shrewd smile, pointed to half-a-dozen different
objects, saying to each, “Not Spanish.”
“Well, and what of that?”
“None but Spaniards and free Guayquerias have a right to sail these
seas.”
Amyas laughed.
“Thou art a right valiant bit of copper. Pick up thy dollar, and go thy
way in peace. Make room for him, men. We can learn what we want without
his help.”
The Indian paused, incredulous and astonished. “Overboard with you!”
quoth Amyas. “Don't you know when you are well off?”
“Most illustrious senor,” began the Indian, in the drawling sententious
fashion of his race (when they take the trouble to talk at all), “I
have been deceived. I heard that you heretics roasted and ate all true
Catholics (as we Guayquerias are), and that all your padres had tails.”
“Plague on you, sirrah!” squeaked Jack Brimblecombe. “Have I a tail?
Look here!”
“Quien sabe? Who knows?” quoth the Indian through his nose.
“How do you know we are heretics?” said Amyas.
“Humph! But in repayment for your kindness, I would warn you,
illustrious senor, not to go on to La Guayra. There are ships of war
there waiting for you; and moreover, the governor Don Guzman sailed to
the eastward only yesterday to look for you; and I wonder much that you
did not meet him.”
“To look for us! On the watch for us!” said Cary. “Impossible; lies!
Amyas, this is some trick of the rascal's to frighten us away.”
“Don Guzman came out but yesterday to look for us? Are you sure you
spoke truth?”
“As I live, senor, he and another ship, for which I took yours.”
Amyas stamped upon the deck: that then was the ship which they had
passed!
“Fool that I was to have been close to my enemy, and let my opportunity
slip! If I had but done my duty, all would have gone right!”
But it was too late to repine; and after all, the Indian's story was
likely enough to be false.
“Off with you!” said he; and the Indian bounded over the side into his
canoe, leaving the whole crew wondering at the stateliness and courtesy
of this bold sea-cavalier.
So Westward-ho they ran, beneath the mighty northern wall, the highest
cliff on earth, some seven thousand feet of rock parted from the sea
by a narrow strip of bright green lowland. Here and there a patch of
sugar-cane, or a knot of cocoa-nut trees, close to the water's edge,
reminded them that they were in the tropics; but above, all was savage,
rough, and bare as an Alpine precipice. Sometimes deep clefts allowed
the southern sun to pour a blaze of light down to the sea marge, and
gave glimpses far above of strange and stately trees lining the glens,
and of a veil of perpetual mist which shrouded the inner summits; while
up and down, between them and the mountain side, white fleecy clouds
hung motionless in the burning air, increasing the impression of
vastness and of solemn rest, which was already overpowering.
“Within those mountains, three thousand feet above our heads,” said
Drew, the master, “lies Saint Yago de Leon, the great city which the
Spaniards founded fifteen years agone.”
“Is it a rich place?” asked Cary.
“Very, they say.”
“Is it a strong place?” asked Amyas.
“No forts to it at all, they say. The Spaniards boast, that Heaven has
made such good walls to it already, that man need make none.”
“I don't know,” quoth Amyas. “Lads, could you climb those hills, do you
think?”
“Rather higher than Harty Point, sir: but it depends pretty much on
what's behind them.”
And now the last point is rounded, and they are full in sight of the
spot in quest of which they have sailed four thousand miles of sea. A
low black cliff, crowned by a wall; a battery at either end. Within, a
few narrow streets of white houses, running parallel with the sea, upon
a strip of flat, which seemed not two hundred yards in breadth; and
behind, the mountain wall, covering the whole in deepest shade. How that
wall was ever ascended to the inland seemed the puzzle; but Drew, who
had been off the place before, pointed out to them a narrow path, which
wound upwards through a glen, seemingly sheer perpendicular. That was
the road to the capital, if any man dare try it. In spite of the shadow
of the mountain, the whole place wore a dusty and glaring look. The
breaths of air which came off the land were utterly stifling; and no
wonder, for La Guayra, owing to the radiation of that vast fire-brick
of heated rock, is one of the hottest spots upon the face of the whole
earth.
Where was the harbor? There was none. Only an open roadstead, wherein
lay tossing at anchor five vessels. The two outer ones were small
merchant caravels. Behind them lay two long, low, ugly-looking craft, at
sight of which Yeo gave a long whew.
“Galleys, as I'm a sinful saint! And what's that big one inside of them,
Robert Drew? She has more than hawseholes in her idolatrous black sides,
I think.”
“We shall open her astern of the galleys in another minute,” said Amyas.
“Look out, Cary, your eyes are better than mine.”
“Six round portholes on the main deck,” quoth Will.
“And I can see the brass patararoes glittering on her poop,” quoth
Amyas. “Will, we're in for it.”
“In for it we are, captain.
“Farewell, farewell, my parents dear.
I never shall see you more, I fear.
“Let's go in, nevertheless, and pound the Don's ribs, my old lad of
Smerwick. Eh? Three to one is very fair odds.”
“Not underneath those fort guns, I beg leave to say,” quoth Yeo. “If the
Philistines will but come out unto us, we will make them like unto Zeba
and Zalmunna.”
“Quite true,” said Amyas. “Game cocks are game cocks, but reason's
reason.”
“If the Philistines are not coming out, they are going to send a
messenger instead,” quoth Cary. “Look out, all thin skulls!”
And as he spoke, a puff of white smoke rolled from the eastern fort, and
a heavy ball plunged into the water between it and the ship.
“I don't altogether like this,” quoth Amyas. “What do they mean by
firing on us without warning? And what are these ships of war doing
here? Drew, you told me the armadas never lay here.”
“No more, I believe, they do, sir, on account of the anchorage being so
bad, as you may see. I'm mortal afeared that rascal's story was true,
and that the Dons have got wind of our coming.”
“Run up a white flag, at all events. If they do expect us, they must
have known some time since, or how could they have got their craft
hither?”
“True, sir. They must have come from Santa Marta, at the least; perhaps
from Cartagena. And that would take a month at least going and coming.”
Amyas suddenly recollected Eustace's threat in the wayside inn. Could he
have betrayed their purpose? Impossible!
“Let us hold a council of war, at all events, Frank.”
Frank was absorbed in a very different matter. A half-mile to the
eastward of the town, two or three hundred feet up the steep mountain
side, stood a large, low, white house embosomed in trees and gardens.
There was no other house of similar size near; no place for one. And was
not that the royal flag of Spain which flaunted before it? That must be
the governor's house; that must be the abode of the Rose of Torridge!
And Frank stood devouring it with wild eyes, till he had persuaded
himself that he could see a woman's figure walking upon the terrace
in front, and that the figure was none other than hers whom he sought.
Amyas could hardly tear him away to a council of war, which was a sad,
and only not a peevish one.
The three adventurers, with Brimblecombe, Yeo, and Drew, went apart upon
the poop; and each looked the other in the face awhile. For what was
to be done? The plans and hopes of months were brought to naught in an
hour.
“It is impossible, you see,” said Amyas, at last, “to surprise the town
by land, while these ships are here; for if we land our men, we leave
our ship without defence.”
“As impossible as to challenge Don Guzman while he is not here,” said
Cary.
“I wonder why the ships have not opened on us already,” said Drew.
“Perhaps they respect our flag of truce,” said Cary. “Why not send in a
boat to treat with them, and to inquire for--
“For her?” interrupted Frank. “If we show that we are aware of her
existence, her name is blasted in the eyes of those jealous Spaniards.”
“And as for respecting our flag of truce, gentlemen,” said Yeo, “if you
will take an old man's advice, trust them not. They will keep the same
faith with us as they kept with Captain Hawkins at San Juan d'Ulloa, in
that accursed business which was the beginning of all the wars; when
we might have taken the whole plate-fleet, with two hundred thousand
pounds' worth of gold on board, and did not, but only asked license to
trade like honest men. And yet, after they had granted us license, and
deceived us by fair speech into landing ourselves and our ordnance, the
governor and all the fleet set upon us, five to one, and gave no quarter
to any soul whom he took. No, sir; I expect the only reason why they
don't attack us is, because their crews are not on board.”
“They will be, soon enough, then,” said Amyas. “I can see soldiers
coming down the landing-stairs.”
And, in fact, boats full of armed men began to push off to the ships.
“We may thank Heaven,” said Drew, “that we were not here two hours
agone. The sun will be down before they are ready for sea, and the
fellows will have no stomach to go looking for us by night.”
“So much the worse for us. If they will but do that, we may give them
the slip, and back again to the town, and there try our luck; for I
cannot find it in my heart to leave the place without having one dash at
it.”
Yeo shook his head. “There are plenty more towns along the coast more
worth trying than this, sir: but Heaven's will be done!”
And as they spoke, the sun plunged into the sea, and all was dark.
At last it was agreed to anchor, and wait till midnight. If the ships
of war came out, they were to try to run in past them, and, desperate
as the attempt might be, attempt their original plan of landing to the
westward of the town, taking it in flank, plundering the government
storehouses, which they saw close to the landing-place, and then
fighting their way back to their boats, and out of the roadstead. Two
hours would suffice if the armada and the galleys were but once out of
the way.
Amyas went forward, called the men together, and told them the plan. It
was not very cheerfully received: but what else was there to be done!
They ran down about a mile and a half to the westward, and anchored.
The night wore on, and there was no sign of stir among the shipping;
for though they could not see the vessels themselves, yet their lights
(easily distinguished by their relative height from those in the town
above) remained motionless; and the men fretted and fumed for weary
hours at thus seeing a rich prize (for of course the town was paved with
gold) within arm's reach, and yet impossible.
Let Amyas and his men have patience. Some short five years more, and the
great Armada will have come and gone; and then that avenging storm,
of which they, like Oxenham, Hawkins, and Drake, are but the
avant-couriers, will burst upon every Spanish port from Corunna to
Cadiz, from the Canaries to Havana, and La Guayra and St. Yago de Leon
will not escape their share. Captain Amyas Preston and Captain Sommers,
the colonist of the Bermudas, or Sommers' Islands, will land, with a
force tiny enough, though larger far than Leigh's, where Leigh dare not
land; and taking the fort of Guayra, will find, as Leigh found, that
their coming has been expected, and that the Pass of the Venta, three
thousand feet above, has been fortified with huge barricadoes, abattis,
and cannon, making the capital, amid its ring of mountain-walls,
impregnable--to all but Englishmen or Zouaves. For up that seven
thousand feet of precipice, which rises stair on stair behind the town,
those fierce adventurers will climb hand over hand, through rain and
fog, while men lie down, and beg their officers to kill them, for no
farther can they go. Yet farther they will go, hewing a path with their
swords through woods of wild plantain, and rhododendron thickets, over
(so it seems, however incredible) the very saddle of the Silla,* down
upon the astonished “Mantuanos” of St. Jago, driving all before them;
and having burnt the city in default of ransom, will return triumphant
by the right road, and pass along the coast, the masters of the deep.
* Humboldt says that there is a path from Caravellada to St.
Jago, between the peaks, used by smugglers. This is
probably the “unknowen way of the Indians,” which Preston
used.
I know not whether any men still live who count their descent from those
two valiant captains; but if such there be, let them be sure that the
history of the English navy tells no more Titanic victory over nature
and man than that now forgotten raid of Amyas Preston and his comrade,
in the year of grace 1595.
But though a venture on the town was impossible, yet there was another
venture which Frank was unwilling to let slip. A light which now shone
brightly in one of the windows of the governor's house was the lodestar
to which all his thoughts were turned; and as he sat in the cabin with
Amyas, Cary, and Jack, he opened his heart to them.
“And are we, then,” asked he, mournfully, “to go without doing the very
thing for which we came?”
All were silent awhile. At last John Brimblecombe spoke.
“Show me the way to do it, Mr. Frank, and I will go.”
“My dearest man,” said Amyas, “what would you have? Any attempt to see
her, even if she be here, would be all but certain death.”
“And what if it were? What if it were, my brother Amyas? Listen to me. I
have long ceased to shrink from Death; but till I came into these magic
climes, I never knew the beauty of his face.”
“Of death?” said Cary. “I should have said, of life. God forgive me! but
man might wish to live forever, if he had such a world as this wherein
to live.”
“And do you forget, Cary, that the more fair this passing world of time,
by so much the more fair is that eternal world, whereof all here is but
a shadow and a dream; by so much the more fair is He before whose throne
the four mystic beasts, the substantial ideas of Nature and her powers,
stand day and night, crying, 'Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts, Thou
hast made all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were created!'
My friends, if He be so prodigal of His own glory as to have decked
these lonely shores, all but unknown since the foundation of the world,
with splendors beyond all our dreams, what must be the glory of His face
itself! I have done with vain shadows. It is better to depart and to be
with Him, where shall be neither desire nor anger, self-deception nor
pretence, but the eternal fulness of reality and truth. One thing I
have to do before I die, for God has laid it on me. Let that be done
to-night, and then, farewell!”
“Frank! Frank! remember our mother!”
“I do remember her. I have talked over these things with her many a
time; and where I would fain be, she would fain be also. She sent me out
with my virgin honor, as the Spartan mother did her boy with the shield,
saying, 'Come back either with this, or upon this;' and one or the other
I must do, if I would meet her either in this life or in the next. But
in the meanwhile do not mistake me; my life is God's, and I promise not
to cast it away rashly.”
“What would you do, then?”
“Go up to that house, Amyas, and speak with her, if Heaven gives me an
opportunity, as Heaven, I feel assured, will give.”
“And do you call that no rashness?”
“Is any duty rashness? Is it rash to stand amid the flying bullets, if
your queen has sent you? Is it more rash to go to seek Christ's lost
lamb, if God and your own oath hath sent you? John Brimblecombe answered
that question for us long ago.”
“If you go, I go with you!” said all three at once.
“No. Amyas, you owe a duty to our mother and to your ship. Cary, you are
heir to great estates, and are bound thereby to your country and to your
tenants. John Brimblecombe--”
“Ay!” squeaked Jack. “And what have you to say, Mr. Frank, against my
going?--I, who have neither ship nor estates--except, I suppose, that I
am not worthy to travel in such good company?”
“Think of your old parents, John, and all your sisters.”
“I thought of them before I started, sir, as Mr. Cary knows, and
you know too. I came here to keep my vow, and I am not going to turn
renegade at the very foot of the cross.”
“Some one must go with you, Frank,” said Amyas; “if it were only to
bring back the boat's crew in case--” and he faltered.
“In case I fall,” replied Frank, with a smile. “I will finish your
sentence for you, lad; I am not afraid of it, though you may be for me.
Yet some one, I fear, must go. Unhappy me! that I cannot risk my own
worthless life without risking your more precious lives!”
“Not so, Mr. Frank! Your oath is our oath, and your duty ours!” said
John. “I will tell you what we will do, gentlemen all. We three will
draw cuts for the honor of going with him.”
“Lots?” said Amyas. “I don't like leaving such grave matters to chance,
friend John.”
“Chance, sir? When you have used all your own wit, and find it fail you,
then what is drawing lots but taking the matter out of your own weak
hands, and laying it in God's strong hands?”
“Right, John!” said Frank. “So did the apostles choose their successor,
and so did holy men of old decide controversies too subtle for them;
and we will not be ashamed to follow their example. For my part, I have
often said to Sidney and to Spenser, when we have babbled together of
Utopian governments in days which are now dreams to me, that I would
have all officers of state chosen by lot out of the wisest and most fit;
so making sure that they should be called by God, and not by man alone.
Gentlemen, do you agree to Sir John's advice?”
They agreed, seeing no better counsel, and John put three slips of paper
into Frank's hand, with the simple old apostolic prayer--
“Show which of us three Thou hast chosen.”
The lot fell upon Amyas Leigh.
Frank shuddered, and clasped his hands over his face.
“Well,” said Cary, “I have ill-luck to-night: but Frank goes at least in
good company.”
“Ah, that it had been I!” said Jack; “though I suppose I was too poor a
body to have such an honor fall on me. And yet it is hard for flesh and
blood; hard indeed to have come all this way, and not to see her after
all!”
“Jack,” said Frank, “you are kept to do better work than this, doubt
not. But if the lot had fallen on you--ay, if it had fallen on a three
years' child, I would have gone up as cheerfully with that child to lead
me, as I do now with this my brother! Amyas, can we have a boat, and a
crew? It is near midnight already.”
Amyas went on deck, and asked for six volunteers. Whosoever would come,
Amyas would double out of his own purse any prize-money which might fall
to that man's share.
One of the old Pelican's crew, Simon Evans of Clovelly, stepped out at
once.
“Why six only, captain? Give the word, and any and all of us will go
up with you, sack the house, and bring off the treasure and the lady,
before two hours are out.”
“No, no, my brave lads! As for treasure, if there be any, it is sure to
have been put all safe into the forts, or hidden in the mountains; and
as for the lady, God forbid that we should force her a step without her
own will.”
The honest sailor did not quite understand this punctilio: but--
“Well, captain,” quoth he, “as you like; but no man shall say that you
asked for a volunteer, were it to jump down a shark's throat, but what
you had me first of all the crew.”
After this sort of temper had been exhibited, three or four more came
forward--Yeo was very anxious to go, but Amyas forbade him.
“I'll volunteer, sir, without reward, for this or anything; though”
(added he in a lower tone) “I would to Heaven that the thought had never
entered your head.”
“And so would I have volunteered,” said Simon Evans, “if it were the
ship's quarrel, or the queen's; but being it's a private matter of the
captain's, and I've a wife and children at home, why, I take no shame to
myself for asking money for my life.”
So the crew was made up; but ere they pushed off, Amyas called Cary
aside--
“If I perish, Will--”
“Don't talk of such things, dear old lad.”
“I must. Then you are captain. Do nothing without Yeo and Drew. But if
they approve, go right north away for San Domingo and Cuba, and try the
ports; they can have no news of us there, and there is booty without
end. Tell my mother that I died like a gentleman; and mind--mind, dear
lad, to keep your temper with the men, let the poor fellows grumble as
they may. Mind but that, and fear God, and all will go well.”
The tears were glistening in Cary's eyes as he pressed Amyas's hand, and
watched the two brothers down over the side upon their desperate errand.
They reached the pebble beach. There seemed no difficulty about finding
the path to the house--so bright was the moon, and so careful a survey
of the place had Frank taken. Leaving the men with the boat (Amyas had
taken care that they should be well armed), they started up the beach,
with their swords only. Frank assured Amyas that they would find a path
leading from the beach up to the house, and he was not mistaken. They
found it easily, for it was made of white shell sand; and following it,
struck into a “tunal,” or belt of tall thorny cactuses. Through this
the path wound in zigzags up a steep rocky slope, and ended at a
wicket-gate. They tried it, and found it open.
“She may expect us,” whispered Frank.
“Impossible!”
“Why not? She must have seen our ship; and if, as seems, the townsfolk
know who we are, how much more must she! Yes, doubt it not, she still
longs to hear news of her own land, and some secret sympathy will draw
her down towards the sea to-night. See! the light is in the window
still!”
“But if not,” said Amyas, who had no such expectation, “what is your
plan?”
“I have none.”
“None?”
“I have imagined twenty different ones in the last hour; but all are
equally uncertain, impossible. I have ceased to struggle--I go where
I am called, love's willing victim. If Heaven accept the sacrifice, it
will provide the altar and the knife.”
Aymas was at his wits' end. Judging of his brother by himself, he had
taken for granted that Frank had some well-concocted scheme for gaining
admittance to the Rose; and as the wiles of love were altogether out of
his province, he had followed in full faith such a sans-appel as he held
Frank to be. But now he almost doubted of his brother's sanity, though
Frank's manner was perfectly collected and his voice firm. Amyas, honest
fellow, had no understanding of that intense devotion, which so many in
those days (not content with looking on it as a lofty virtue, and yet
one to be duly kept in its place by other duties) prided themselves on
pampering into the most fantastic and self-willed excesses.
Beautiful folly! the death-song of which two great geniuses were
composing at that very moment, each according to his light. For, while
Spenser was embalming in immortal verse all that it contained of noble
and Christian elements, Cervantes sat, perhaps, in his dungeon, writing
with his left hand Don Quixote, saddest of books, in spite of all its
wit; the story of a pure and noble soul, who mistakes this actual life
for that ideal one which he fancies (and not so wrongly either) eternal
in the heavens: and finding instead of a battlefield for heroes in God's
cause, nothing but frivolity, heartlessness, and godlessness, becomes a
laughing-stock,--and dies. One of the saddest books, I say again, which
man can read.
Amyas hardly dare trust himself to speak, for fear of saying too much;
but he could not help saying--
“You are going to certain death, Frank.”
“Did I not entreat,” answered he, very quietly, “to go alone?”
Amyas had half a mind to compel him to return: but he feared Frank's
obstinacy; and feared, too, the shame of returning on board without
having done anything; so they went up through the wicket-gate, along a
smooth turf walk, into what seemed a pleasure-garden, formed by the hand
of man, or rather of woman. For by the light, not only of the moon, but
of the innumerable fireflies, which flitted to and fro across the sward
like fiery imps sent to light the brothers on their way, they could see
that the bushes on either side, and the trees above their heads, were
decked with flowers of such strangeness and beauty, that, as Frank
once said of Barbados, “even the gardens of Wilton were a desert in
comparison.” All around were orange and lemon trees (probably the only
addition which man had made to Nature's prodigality), the fruit of
which, in that strange colored light of the fireflies, flashed in their
eyes like balls of burnished gold and emerald; while great white tassels
swinging from every tree in the breeze which swept down the glade,
tossed in their faces a fragrant snow of blossoms, and glittering drops
of perfumed dew.
“What a paradise!” said Amyas to Frank, “with the serpent in it, as of
old. Look!”
And as he spoke, there dropped slowly down from a bough, right before
them, what seemed a living chain of gold, ruby, and sapphire. Both
stopped, and another glance showed the small head and bright eyes of a
snake, hissing and glaring full in their faces.
“See!” said Frank. “And he comes, as of old, in the likeness of an angel
of light. Do not strike it. There are worse devils to be fought with
to-night than that poor beast.” And stepping aside, they passed the
snake safely, and arrived in front of the house.
It was, as I have said, a long low house, with balconies along the upper
story, and the under part mostly open to the wind. The light was still
burning in the window.
“Whither now?” said Amyas, in a tone of desperate resignation.
“Thither! Where else on earth?” and Frank pointed to the light,
trembling from head to foot, and pushed on.
“For Heaven's sake! Look at the negroes on the barbecue!”
It was indeed time to stop; for on the barbecue, or terrace of white
plaster, which ran all round the front, lay sleeping full twenty black
figures.
“What will you do now? You must step over them to gain an entrance.”
“Wait here, and I will go up gently towards the window. She may see me.
She will see me as I step into the moonlight. At least I know an air by
which she will recognize me, if I do but hum a stave.”
“Why, you do not even know that that light is hers!--Down, for your
life!”
And Amyas dragged him down into the bushes on his left hand; for one
of the negroes, wakening suddenly with a cry, had sat up, and began
crossing himself four or five times, in fear of “Duppy,” and mumbling
various charms, ayes, or what not.
The light above was extinguished instantly.
“Did you see her?” whispered Frank.
“No.”
“I did--the shadow of the face, and the neck! Can I be mistaken?” And
then, covering his face with his hands, he murmured to himself, “Misery!
misery! So near and yet impossible?”
“Would it be the less impossible were you face to face? Let us go back.
We cannot go up without detection, even if our going were of use. Come
back, for God's sake, ere all is lost! If you have seen her, as you say,
you know at least that she is alive, and safe in his house--”
“As his mistress? or as his wife? Do I know that yet, Amyas, and can I
depart until I know?” There was a few minutes' silence, and then Amyas,
making one last attempt to awaken Frank to the absurdity of the whole
thing, and to laugh him, if possible, out of it, as argument had no
effect--
“My dear fellow, I am very hungry and sleepy; and this bush is very
prickly; and my boots are full of ants--”
“So are mine.--Look!” and Frank caught Amyas's arm, and clenched it
tight.
For round the farther corner of the house a dark cloaked figure stole
gently, turning a look now and then upon the sleeping negroes, and came
on right toward them.
“Did I not tell you she would come?” whispered Frank, in a triumphant
tone.
Amyas was quite bewildered; and to his mind the apparition seemed
magical, and Frank prophetic; for as the figure came nearer, incredulous
as he tried to be, there was no denying that the shape and the walk were
exactly those of her, to find whom they had crossed the Atlantic. True,
the figure was somewhat taller; but then, “she must be grown since I saw
her,” thought Amyas; and his heart for the moment beat as fiercely as
Frank's.
But what was that behind her? Her shadow against the white wall of the
house. Not so. Another figure, cloaked likewise, but taller far, was
following on her steps. It was a man's. They could see that he wore a
broad sombrero. It could not be Don Guzman, for he was at sea. Who then?
Here was a mystery; perhaps a tragedy. And both brothers held their
breaths, while Amyas felt whether his sword was loose in the sheath.
The Rose (if indeed it was she) was within ten yards of them, when she
perceived that she was followed. She gave a little shriek. The cavalier
sprang forward, lifted his hat courteously, and joined her, bowing low.
The moonlight was full upon his face.
“It is Eustace, our cousin! How came he here, in the name of all the
fiends?”
“Eustace! Then that is she, after all!” said Frank, forgetting
everything else in her.
And now flashed across Amyas all that had passed between him and Eustace
in the moorland inn, and Parracombe's story, too, of the suspicious
gipsy. Eustace had been beforehand with them, and warned Don Guzman! All
was explained now: but how had he got hither?
“The devil, his master, sent him hither on a broomstick, I suppose: or
what matter how? Here he is; and here we are, worse luck!” And, setting
his teeth, Amyas awaited the end.
The two came on, talking earnestly, and walking at a slow pace, so that
the brothers could hear every word.
“What shall we do now?” said Frank. “We have no right to be
eavesdroppers.”
“But we must be, right or none.” And Amyas held him down firmly by the
arm.
“But whither are you going, then, my dear madam?” they heard Eustace
say in a wheedling tone. “Can you wonder if such strange conduct should
cause at least sorrow to your admirable and faithful husband?”
“Husband!” whispered Frank faintly to Amyas. “Thank God, thank God! I am
content. Let us go.”
But to go was impossible; for, as fate would have it, the two had
stopped just opposite them.
“The inestimable Senor Don Guzman--” began Eustace again.
“What do you mean by praising him to me in this fulsome way, sir? Do you
suppose that I do not know his virtues better than you?”
“If you do, madam” (this was spoken in a harder tone), “it were wise for
you to try them less severely, than by wandering down towards the beach
on the very night that you know his most deadly enemies are lying in
wait to slay him, plunder his house, and most probably to carry you off
from him.”
“Carry me off? I will die first!”
“Who can prove that to him? Appearances are at least against you.”
“My love to him, and his trust for me, sir!”
“His trust? Have you forgotten, madam, what passed last week, and why he
sailed yesterday?”
The only answer was a burst of tears. Eustace stood watching her with a
terrible eye; but they could see his face writhing in the moonlight.
“Oh!” sobbed she at last. “And if I have been imprudent, was it not
natural to wish to look once more upon an English ship? Are you not
English as well as I? Have you no longing recollections of the dear old
land at home?”
Eustace was silent; but his face worked more fiercely than ever.
“How can he ever know it?”
“Why should he not know it?”
“Ah!” she burst out passionately, “why not, indeed, while you are here?
You, sir, the tempter, you the eavesdropper, you the sunderer of loving
hearts! You, serpent, who found our home a paradise, and see it now a
hell!”
“Do you dare to accuse me thus, madam, without a shadow of evidence?”
“Dare? I dare anything, for I know all! I have watched you, sir, and I
have borne with you too long.”
“Me, madam, whose only sin towards you, as you should know by now, is to
have loved you too well? Rose! Rose! have you not blighted my life for
me--broken my heart? And how have I repaid you? How but by sacrificing
myself to seek you over land and sea, that I might complete your
conversion to the bosom of that Church where a Virgin Mother stands
stretching forth soft arms to embrace her wandering daughter, and cries
to you all day long, 'Come unto me, ye that are weary and heavy laden,
and I will give you rest!' And this is my reward!”
“Depart with your Virgin Mother, sir, and tempt me no more! You have
asked me what I dare; and I dare this, upon my own ground, and in my
own garden, I, Donna Rosa de Soto, to bid you leave this place now and
forever, after having insulted me by talking of your love, and tempted
me to give up that faith which my husband promised me he would respect
and protect. Go, sir!”
The brothers listened breathless with surprise as much as with rage.
Love and conscience, and perhaps, too, the pride of her lofty alliance,
had converted the once gentle and dreamy Rose into a very Roxana; but it
was only the impulse of a moment. The words had hardly passed her lips,
when, terrified at what she had said, she burst into a fresh flood of
tears; while Eustace answered calmly:
“I go, madam: but how know you that I may not have orders, and that,
after your last strange speech, my conscience may compel me to obey
those orders, to take you with me?”
“Me? with you?”
“My heart has bled for you, madam, for many a year. It longs now that
it had bled itself to death, and never known the last worst agony of
telling you--”
And drawing close to her he whispered in her ear--what, the brothers
heard not--but her answer was a shriek which rang through the woods, and
sent the night-birds fluttering up from every bough above their heads.
“By Heaven!” said Amyas, “I can stand this no longer. Cut that devil's
throat I must--”
“She is lost if his dead body is found by her.”
“We are lost if we stay here, then,” said Amyas; “for those negroes will
hurry down at her cry, and then found we must be.”
“Are you mad, madam, to betray yourself by your own cries? The negroes
will be here in a moment. I give you one last chance for life, then:”
and Eustace shouted in Spanish at the top of his voice, “Help, help,
servants! Your mistress is being carried off by bandits!”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Let your woman's wit supply the rest: and forget not him who thus saves
you from disgrace.”
Whether the brothers heard the last words or not, I know not; but taking
for granted that Eustace had discovered them, they sprang to their feet
at once, determined to make one last appeal, and then to sell their
lives as dearly as they could.
Eustace started back at the unexpected apparition; but a second glance
showed him Amyas's mighty bulk; and he spoke calmly--
“You see, madam, I did not call without need. Welcome, good cousins. My
charity, as you perceive, has found means to outstrip your craft; while
the fair lady, as was but natural, has been true to her assignation!”
“Liar!” cried Frank. “She never knew of our being--”
“Credat Judaeus!” answered Eustace; but, as he spoke, Amyas burst
through the bushes at him. There was no time to be lost; and ere the
giant could disentangle himself from the boughs and shrubs, Eustace had
slipped off his long cloak, thrown it over Amyas's head, and ran up the
alley shouting for help.
Mad with rage, Amyas gave chase: but in two minutes more Eustace was
safe among the ranks of the negroes, who came shouting and jabbering
down the path.
He rushed back. Frank was just ending some wild appeal to Rose--
“Your conscience! your religion!--”
“No, never! I can face the chance of death, but not the loss of him. Go!
for God's sake, leave me!”
“You are lost, then,--and I have ruined you!”
“Come off, now or never,” cried Amyas, clutching him by the arm, and
dragging him away like a child.
“You forgive me?” cried he.
“Forgive you?” and she burst into tears again.
Frank burst into tears also.
“Let me go back, and die with her--Amyas!--my oath!--my honor!” and he
struggled to turn back.
Amyas looked back too, and saw her standing calmly, with her hands
folded across her breast, awaiting Eustace and the servants; and he half
turned to go back also. Both saw how fearfully appearances had put her
into Eustace's power. Had he not a right to suspect that they were there
by her appointment; that she was going to escape with them? And would
not Eustace use his power? The thought of the Inquisition crossed their
minds. “Was that the threat which Eustace had whispered?” asked he of
Frank.
“It was,” groaned Frank, in answer.
For the first and last time in his life, Amyas Leigh stood irresolute.
“Back, and stab her to the heart first!” said Frank, struggling to
escape from him.
Oh, if Amyas were but alone, and Frank safe home in England! To charge
the whole mob, kill her, kill Eustace, and then cut his way back again
to the ship, or die,--what matter? as he must die some day,--sword in
hand! But Frank!--and then flashed before his eyes his mother's hopeless
face; then rang in his ears his mother's last bequest to him of that
frail treasure. Let Rose, let honor, let the whole world perish, he must
save Frank. See! the negroes were up with her now--past her--away for
life! and once more he dragged his brother down the hill, and through
the wicket, only just in time; for the whole gang of negroes were within
ten yards of them in full pursuit.
“Frank,” said he, sharply, “if you ever hope to see your mother again,
rouse yourself, man, and fight!” And, without waiting for an answer, he
turned, and charged up-hill upon his pursuers, who saw the long bright
blade, and fled instantly.
Again he hurried Frank down the hill; the path wound in zigzags, and he
feared that the negroes would come straight over the cliff, and so cut
off his retreat: but the prickly cactuses were too much for them, and
they were forced to follow by the path, while the brothers (Frank having
somewhat regained his senses) turned every now and then to menace
them: but once on the rocky path, stones began to fly fast; small ones
fortunately, and wide and wild for want of light--but when they reached
the pebble-beach? Both were too proud to run; but, if ever Amyas prayed
in his life, he prayed for the last twenty yards before he reached the
water-mark.
“Now, Frank! down to the boat as hard as you can run, while I keep the
curs back.”
“Amyas! what do you take me for? My madness brought you hither: your
devotion shall not bring me back without you.”
“Together, then!”
And putting Frank's arm through his, they hurried down, shouting to
their men.
The boat was not fifty yards off: but fast travelling over the pebbles
was impossible, and long ere half the distance was crossed, the negroes
were on the beach, and the storm burst. A volley of great quartz pebbles
whistled round their heads.
“Come on, Frank! for life's sake! Men, to the rescue! Ah! what was
that?”
The dull crash of a pebble against Frank's fair head! Drooping like
Hyacinthus beneath the blow of the quoit, he sank on Amyas's arm. The
giant threw him over his shoulder, and plunged blindly on,--himself
struck again and again.
“Fire, men! Give it the black villains!”
The arquebuses crackled from the boat in front. What were those
dull thuds which answered from behind? Echoes? No. Over his head the
caliver-balls went screeching. The governors' guard have turned out,
followed them to the beach, fixed their calivers, and are firing over
the negroes' heads, as the savages rush down upon the hapless brothers.
If, as all say, there are moments which are hours, how many hours was
Amyas Leigh in reaching that boat's bow? Alas! the negroes are there as
soon as he, and the guard, having left their calivers, are close behind
them, sword in hand. Amyas is up to his knees in water--battered with
stones--blinded with blood. The boat is swaying off and on against the
steep pebble-bank: he clutches at it--misses--falls headlong--rises
half-choked with water: but Frank is still in his arms. Another heavy
blow--a confused roar of shouts, shots, curses--a confused mass of
negroes and English, foam and pebbles--and he recollects no more.
* * * * *
He is lying in the stern-sheets of the boat; stiff, weak, half blind
with blood. He looks up; the moon is still bright overhead: but they are
away from the shore now, for the wave-crests are dancing white before
the land-breeze, high above the boat's side. The boat seems strangely
empty. Two men are pulling instead of six! And what is this lying heavy
across his chest? He pushes, and is answered by a groan. He puts his
hand down to rise, and is answered by another groan.
“What's this?”
“All that are left of us,” says Simon Evans of Clovelly.
“All?” The bottom of the boat seemed paved with human bodies. “Oh
God! oh God!” moans Amyas, trying to rise. “And where--where is Frank?
Frank!”
“Mr. Frank!” cries Evans. There is no answer.
“Dead?” shrieks Amyas. “Look for him, for God's sake, look!” and
struggling from under his living load, he peers into each pale and
bleeding face.
“Where is he? Why don't you speak, forward there?”
“Because we have naught to say, sir,” answers Evans, almost surlily.
Frank was not there.
“Put the boat about! To the shore!” roars Amyas.
“Look over the gunwale, and judge for yourself, sir!”
The waves are leaping fierce and high before a furious land-breeze.
Return is impossible.
“Cowards! villains! traitors! hounds! to have left him behind.”
“Listen you to me, Captain Amyas Leigh,” says Simon Evans, resting on
his oar; “and hang me for mutiny, if you will, when we're aboard, if we
ever get there. Isn't it enough to bring us out to death (as you knew
yourself, sir, for you're prudent enough) to please that poor young
gentleman's fancy about a wench; but you must call coward an honest man
that have saved your life this night, and not a one of us but has his
wound to show?”
Amyas was silent; the rebuke was just.
“I tell you, sir, if we've hove a stone out of this boat since we got
off, we've hove two hundredweight, and, if the Lord had not fought for
us, she'd have been beat to noggin-staves there on the beach.”
“How did I come here, then?”
“Tom Hart dragged you in out of five feet water, and then thrust the
boat off, and had his brains beat out for reward. All were knocked down
but us two. So help me God, we thought that you had hove Mr. Frank on
board just as you were knocked down, and saw William Frost drag him in.”
But William Frost was lying senseless in the bottom of the boat. There
was no explanation. After all, none was needed.
“And I have three wounds from stones, and this man behind me as many
more, beside a shot through his shoulder. Now, sir, be we cowards?”
“You have done your duty,” said Amyas, and sank down in the boat, and
cried as if his heart would break; and then sprang up, and, wounded as
he was, took the oar from Evans's hands. With weary work they made the
ship, but so exhausted that another boat had to be lowered to get them
alongside.
The alarm being now given, it was hardly safe to remain where they were;
and after a stormy and sad argument, it was agreed to weigh anchor and
stand off and on till morning; for Amyas refused to leave the spot till
he was compelled, though he had no hope (how could he have?) that Frank
might still be alive. And perhaps it was well for them, as will appear
in the next chapter, that morning did not find them at anchor close to
the town.
However that may be, so ended that fatal venture of mistaken chivalry.