MADEMOISELLE.
After awhile the Sieur de la Notte came on deck to Master Hooper and
disclosed the story of his persecution and the circumstances which
led to his capture and imprisonment. His tale was, in short, the
tale of a hundred others. He had become a follower of Calvin and had
even preached and written the new religion. His estates were soon
confiscated and he was forced to flee into the night with his wife and
daughter, carrying only the jewels and valuables to which he could lay
his hands.
“And what, Monsieur,” asked Master Hooper, when he had done, “of your
adventure in the cabin?”
“That is soon told. When the action began, the commander of the
_Cristobal_, Don Alvarez, sent us below, cautioning us not to appear
upon the deck. Don Diego de Baçan himself locked us in the after cabin.
The battle over there came a sudden movement at the outer door and
two pikemen rushed into the corridor and set upon me vigorously. So
sudden was the onslaught I had scarce time to set myself on guard. But
I managed to draw and use my sword to such good end as to confine the
fellows in the narrow passageway, where I had them at a disadvantage.
Yet, what might have come of us had not yonder giant interposed----”
“But the cause of this attack?” asked Captain Hooper.
“You must know, Monsieur,” replied the Frenchman, “that under the
deck of that cabin is a chest containing many thousand crowns. It was
upon the Huguenot ship from which we were taken and was intended by
Admiral Coligny for certain troops under arms in the north.” Captain
Hooper’s eyes sparkled. He would have liked to take that chest upon the
_Griffin_. But he had his orders and dared not without the consent of
the Queen take even salvage of treasure or property belonging to the
Protestant party.
“Captain Hooper,” said I, “the orders for the murder of this gentleman
came from the officer, Don Diego de Baçan.” And I related my own
imprudence in allowing the Spaniard to communicate with his bowmen.
“H’m! ’Twas a foolish thing,” said Master Hooper, stroking his chin,
“but, lad, you’ve atoned for your fault in handsome fashion. And now
out with spare yards and masts and try for some steerage way on this
storied hayrick.”
There being many bad injuries, the _Cristobal_ took water rapidly and
Master Hooper sent all of her crew to removing it. The men mounted
stages set at places beyond the reach of the water and made such
repairs as would enable her to reach port, provided the weather grew
no worse. The injuries below water were stopped from inboard, the
wreck was partially cleared, jury masts and temporary spars were
rigged in place of those shot away, and, with a wind on the quarter,
the _Griffin_ and her prize moved to the eastward toward the coast of
France. The _Griffin_ having even more than her complement of men,
it was thought best by Captain Hooper to send aboard the _Cristobal_
a large prize crew, of which he made me commander. Many of the more
important prisoners were put aboard the _Griffin_ or taken below on the
_Cristobal_, where they were confined in the fore-castle. To my great
satisfaction the family of the Vicomte de la Notte were passengers to
the city of Dieppe, where they had friends. A matter much less to my
liking was the company of Don Diego de Baçan, whose presence even in
confinement seemed to me a menace to the safety of the ship and her
precious cargo. But it was so ordered by Captain Hooper, for at Dieppe
the Spaniard might be exchanged for English seamen imprisoned there as
hostages at the demands of Spain. The _Cristobal_ as a prize was to be
made over formally to certain agents of Captain Hooper. These agents,
who were French, it is said were in the employ of the Queen, but I
doubted this after my dealings with them. Having sold the _Cristobal_
and placed the recaptured treasure in the hands of Admiral Coligny, I
was to rejoin the _Griffin_ at Portsmouth.
On the afternoon of the second day the _Griffin_ put her helm up and
set a straight course for the coast of Ireland, to refit at Kinsale,
where Master Hooper kept his goods and stores. All effort having been
made to insure a safe voyage I stood at the weather rigging upon the
quarter-deck, thinking of many things. I marveled at the wonderful
power which had drawn me from myself and made my rough hulk seem to
me but the abode of a carnal spirit. Having no quarrel with the world
except in matters relating to the betterment of my condition, I had
grown in my rugged health and brute strength further and further from
the more delicate sensibilities which go to make the better part of
human life. It was my own fault. I knew that. I could have gone into
the horse-company of my uncle with a chance for preferment and a life
of polite groveling at the skirts of royalty. Though I had read much of
such books as were to be found in my way and picked up a smattering of
the languages, a dozen years of service in all weathers and companies
had cudgeled from me many feelings of the gentler kind which I believe
are nature’s gifts to all right-thinking gentlefolk.
But I had chosen my life for myself and there was an end of it. I
compared myself, beside Mademoiselle, to a clumsy rock crumster
against the gilded pinnace of the Queen where every line is beauty and
strength. I watched her as she walked the deck with Madame. Although
the _Cristobal_ lay over to leeward and blundered heavily through the
seas, raising her head and stern in abrupt fashion, Mademoiselle walked
the slanting deck straightly, conversing quietly the while and cheering
Madame, who leaned upon her. Her carriage, though lissome, gained from
the set of the head a certain dignity and grace that marked her as a
queen among women--perhaps a little haughty but in it the more queenly.
But I would not be so interpreted as to show her in any sense cold of
temper, for as I stood there watching her, my heart in my eyes, from
time to time she turned and flashed a warm glance upon me, which sealed
each time more surely my destiny as her willing servitor.
In a little while the prisoners were brought up from below for their
airing and Mademoiselle went with Madame below to the cabin. The
Spaniards, taken altogether, were a well enough looking company, and
I do not doubt that under proper authority and better conditions of
ordnance and seamanship, could have given a good account of themselves.
As it was, they seemed well cowed and came up from their quarters
sheepishly, blinking their eyes like so many cats at the brightness of
the sun. There came also among the last Don Diego de Baçan. Lifting his
great bulk over the combing of the hatchway he scanned the horizon as
though mechanically and, seeing nothing, turned toward me. I had not
given much of my thought to this fellow, for with the many necessary
orders and duties in getting the _Cristobal_ to rights and under
way my mind had been so occupied as to harbor no place for plans or
business of my own. Yet the memory of the haughty taunt of the Spaniard
rankled in me, and I promised myself an ungodly pleasure in a further
discussion of the subject. As the ranking officer among the prisoners,
I had allotted him the half of my cabin, but my business upon the deck
having been so urgent, I had not as yet had any talk with him.
The mist of years passes over our eyes and brains, dimming the memories
of youthful impulses and madnesses. Yet even now, as I recall the face
of De Baçan, handsome, sneering, powerful,--his look of contempt at all
things,--my pulses beat the more quickly and my hand again goes to the
place where my sword was wont to hang. It is said that in the matter
of love and the taking in marriage, each person may find upon the earth
a mate; likewise it seems to me most natural that for each man upon the
earth at least one other may be born who shall be his natural adversary
and enemy. It was once told me by Martin Cockrem that two churls
entered the inn-yard at the Pelican and without exchange of words, or
laying eyes on each other ever before, fell instantly to fighting.
Setting aside the danger which lay in his presence and the grievance
I bore him for his attack upon the Sieur de la Notte, a like feeling
of antipathy there was between the Spaniard and me. And as he came
forward, my fingers closed so that the nails drove into the flesh and
I took a step toward him. Yet he was a prisoner of war, promised to be
safely delivered. So, half ashamed of my own impatience, I bit my lip
for the better control of my speech and leaned back upon the taffrail
smiling.
“You have not given me the honor of your company in my prison,” said
he, with a sneer.
“Nay, señor,” I returned, “the _Cristobal_ is a sieve, and but for
certain precautions might now be floating keelson upward. My company
you shall have when other things are righted, for there is a small
matter for discussion.”
“And what, Señor Pirato?” he asked with a lift of the chin. “What
matter is common between you and me?”
“Permit me to be the judge of that, señor. And upon the _Cristobal_ the
subject may be settled.”
“Oho! You crow loud as a fledgling cock with your weighty subjects!”
“My weighty subjects are less weighty than my fists,” I replied, for
I liked him not, striving hard meanwhile to preserve my peace. “You
saw fit to put an insult upon me and did me the honor of an offer of a
further argument of the question. I accept that offer.”
He placed his hands upon his hips and looked at me from head to foot as
at a person he had never seen before. And then his white teeth gleamed
through his black mustache as he smiled.
“You are a bold stripling. Why, Sir Swashbuckler, the prowess of Don de
Baçan is a byword in the navy of King Philip, and no man in all Spain
has bested him in any bout of strength. Yet, look you, I like your bulk
and manner and it may be that I shall see fit to honor you with a test
of endurance.”
“’Tis no honor that I seek, señor,” said I, giving him smile for
smile, “but the satisfaction of a small personal grievance which may
be righted quickly. And though your bulk is fit enough for my metal,
your manner pleases me not;” for it galled me that he should continue
to speak of me as a pirato upon my own command; and my blood boiled at
the thought of what he had attempted to work upon the Sieur de la Notte
and Mademoiselle.
“My thews may please you even less, Sir Adventurer. Mark you
this,”--and leaning over, he took from one of the guns a chocking
quoin of hickory-wood banded with copper. Seizing it in his hands he
placed it between his knees for a better purchase and, bending forward
quickly, with a mighty wrench, he split it in two parts as one would
split an apple; whereat I was greatly surprised, and knew for certain
that I had no ordinary giant to deal with. But I held and still hold,
that like most of such feats, it was but a trick and come of long
practise. I might have shown him, had I wished, the breaking of a
pike-staff with a hand-width grasp; for in this there is no great skill
but only honest elbow sinew. Yet I had no humor to put him on his guard
against me.
Some of my surprise may have noted itself in my face, for he laughed
boastfully as he threw the quoin upon the deck. “So will I split
you,--if your humor is unchanged.”
I laughed back in his face.
“If your quoins are as rotten as your ship, I fear you not. To-morrow
we make the coast. To-night, if it meets your convenience we will meet
upon the fore-castle.”
“As you will,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, “yet I have
warned you. And if blood be spilled by accident----”
“It will not be mine! Until then, señor,” and bowing, I made my way
below to inquire if Mademoiselle wished for anything.