A TIMELY RESCUE.
ERE long the loom of the land was lost to sight in the darkness, and
with a freshening wind the pinnace tore seawards. Should the breeze
hold we feared no danger of pursuit, for the _Damsel of Lyme_ could
show a clean pair of heels to any bluff-bowed Spanish craft, and even
outstrip their swift galleys, for the sea was too high to allow their
oars to be used to advantage.
"Nevertheless, Ralph," quoth my father, "we'll hold westward till
daybreak, so as to get a good offing. If those rascals come after us
they will take it for granted that we are hugging the shore so as to
make the shortest track to England. Now, since you know the ins and
outs of this staunch craft, do you make an examination below deck,
and let me know what water and provisions are aboard. After that you
had better turn in, for by sunrise I'll warrant I can do a sound
sleep."
Taking a lantern, I first explored the great cabin. 'Twas much in the
same state as when Captain Cleat used it, though the rich hangings
and silver vessels had vanished. Evidently the pinnace had been made
ready for a long voyage, for there was wine in plenty, besides
newly-made bread, so that without troubling about the stores in the
hold there would be ample for our sustenance.
Then I bethought myself of the little magazine under the floor.
Setting the lantern down at a safe distance, I whipped off the hatch,
and, lying full length, groped with my hand. The powder had gone, but
the place was nearly chock-full of seemingly long bundles of oiled
canvas. One I pulled out, and, stripping off the wrappings, disclosed
a brand-new arquebus. I tried another, with the same result. The
cuddy contained a veritable armoury.
I next turned my attention to the after-hold. As far as I could make
out by the aid of the lantern, this was also full of munitions of
war, for there were steel headpieces, breast and back plates, pikes,
swords, partisans, and halberds, the metal being carefully coated
with tallow to preserve it from rust.
The forehold, besides containing plenty of provisions in casks, held
quantities of pressed fodder, several ladders, mattocks, shovels, and
other implements for use in siege work, and at least a dozen barrels
that, from being painted red, I concluded contained powder.
Thence I made my way to the forepeak, wherein I had heretofore spent
so many unhappy days and nights, which now, compared with the horrors
of the prison of the Inquisition, seemed easy to be borne.
The place was much the same as before: the stove of sea-coal in the
centre, and a double row of bunks on either side.
Whilst I stood, lantern in hand, a loud snore made me start so that I
nearly dropped the light. Yet I took courage, and looked again.
In one of the bunks lay a soldier, fully accoutred even to his
leathern hip-boots. He was sprawling on his back, his head thrown
back and his mouth wide open; one hand trailed over the side of the
bunk, while on the floor lay his steel helmet and an overturned
leathern jack, from which the liquor had run to leeward owing to the
heel of the ship. He was apparently the ship-keeper, and had been
indulging in a heavy carouse, for his slumber was that of a man deep
in drink.
Hastily I returned, and informed my parent of my discovery.
"Do you take the helm," said he. "I'll have him triced up soon enow.
But stay," he added, "'tis best to make certain of him. I'll lash the
helm, and do you come with me."
Taking up a coil of fine rope and a short iron bar, my father went
for'ard, while I, having set down the lantern, stood by ready to give
assistance should it be required.
But the Spaniard gave no trouble. He was still sleeping heavily.
Without difficulty his legs and arms were securely pinioned, while,
to make doubly sure, we shackled a short length of chain round his
waist, fastening the other end to a pig of iron.
This done, we left him to be astounded, on awakening, at his change
of fortune. In a way 'twas fortunate for him, for had he been
discovered by his captain he would assuredly have been hanged,
whereas we spared him his life.
Worn out with my exertions, I soon fell asleep. It was nearly high
noon when I awoke, for my father, in spite of his fatigue, had
forborne to waken me at daybreak.
"A few hours' slumber will set me right," he replied, when I
reproached him for not rousing me before. "Meanwhile do you keep the
pinnace due north. Methinks we have already made sufficiently to the
westward to shake off pursuit."
Ere I had been two hours at the tiller, the wind, hitherto steady and
true, began to pipe down, till the pinnace barely answered her helm.
Oft the great lateen sails would flap idly, then as a puff struck
them they would draw so quickly that the mast and cordage groaned
under the sudden strain. Again the breeze would head us a little, so
that I frequently had to put the vessel off her course.
This continued for some time, till the sea subsided somewhat, and
thus eased the strain upon the tiller, for with the light breeze and
the tumble of the waves, my arms were aching as I continuously
checked the tendency of the rudder to fly hard over.
Being left more at my ease I happened to glance astern. To my
surprise I saw a vessel barely two miles away on our starboard
quarter and heading straight for us.
Instantly I called to my father, and as promptly he roused and came
running on deck. One look was sufficient.
"'Tis a Spaniard sure enow; and a galley to boot!" he exclaimed. "And
where has the wind gone?"
Just then another stray puff gave us steerage way, and the _Damsel of
Lyme_ heeled gracefully to the welcome draught. But it did not last,
and soon the pinnace was wallowing helplessly in the long, oily
swell.
Being useless at the helm, I assisted my father to load the culverin
and the sakers, putting a heavy stone ball cased in lead in the
former, and a double charge of slag in the latter. Then behind the
rudder head we raised a pair of stout hatches, so as to protect us
from the fire of the arquebuses, which ere long would begin to sing
around our heads, while the loading of a score of wheel-lock pistols
completed our preparations for defence.
"We'll hold out till the last, Ralph," said my father resolutely.
"They must never take us alive. But oh for a good breeze!"
The galley was now within range. Urged by fifty oars she was rapidly
overhauling us, though the breeze had again sprung up sufficiently
for our sails to draw. Ahead a dark patch upon the water denoted a
strong wind, but with remorseless obstinacy the belt of light air
still enveloped us.
Calmly my father sighted the long cannon, directing me with a motion
of his hand to ease the pinnace till the muzzle pointed straight at
the Spanish craft.
With a deafening roar the charge was fired, and we watched the shot
travel straight for the galley. But to our disappointment it passed a
span or so above the poop, though we were not sure that it had not
struck some of the soldiers who were gathered upon the sloping deck.
With the utmost haste another charge was rammed home and fired.
This time the shot pitched fairly upon the bank of oars on the
larboard side, breaking the ash poles like straws. Amid a roar of
rage the galley swung round, till the shipmaster could prevail on the
slaves who manned the starboard bank to desist from rowing.
Ere they could adjust their oars we had gained a good half-mile, but
still the wind held provokingly light.
Then, hand over hand, the galley began to make good her lost ground,
while we prepared to try another shot at our pursuers. But this time
the missile fell short, and, throwing up a tall column of spray,
rebounded well over the oncoming vessel. They were now within musket
range, and instantly gave us a volley.
Crouching behind the improvised mantlet my father held the pinnace on
her course, while I, having little hope yet praying for a fresh wind,
lay flat upon the deck, sheltered by the sheer of our poop.
"Ralph," shouted my father, "stand by. The pinnace carries way. When
they come nigh I mean to down helm and ram the galley amidships. Can
we but hold our own 'gainst those who clamber on our fo'c'sle all may
go well with us."
This plan seemed feasible, for the galley, instead of running
straight under our quarter, was drawing abeam at the distance of a
pistol shot, so that we had sufficient room to swing round and strike
her fairly in the waist.
But my father's resolve was doomed to failure, for an unlucky shot
cut through the sling of our mainyard, and the long, heavy spar came
crashing upon our deck, the folds of the canvas trailing in the sea
on both sides.
A roar of exultation came from the Spaniards; but their joy was
short-lived, for my father loosed the contents of one of the sakers
at them.
The heavy charge, spreading like a fan, well-nigh cleared her
fo'c'sle, and, profiting by this diversion, we drew clear under
foresail alone.
"A breeze!" shouted my father.
Astern the water was being churned into the little white-crested
waves. Down swooped the wind, and before it fled the _Damsel of Lyme_
like a wounded sea-bird.
There was little need to tend the helm. Regardless of the bullets,
that even now began to fall short, we gathered in the trailing canvas
that threatened to check the vessel's way. Meanwhile the galley
sternly continued the pursuit.
Speeding aloft with a coil of rope under his arm, my father prepared
to haul down the main halyard block so as to bend it to the fallen
spar, but while thus engaged I heard him shout, "A sail! Right
ahead!"
Desisting in his work, he gained the deck and came aft.
"Heaven forfend it be a Spanish ship!" he muttered. "She's right in
our course, and a vessel of no mean size."
With a still rising wind we held our own against our pursuers, but
momentarily we were drawing rapidly nearer to the stranger.
She was a barque of about 200 tons, yellow hulled, with towering
fo'c'sle and poop, though not so lofty as the majority of Spanish
ships. She had struck her t'gallants, and under topsails and courses
lay close-hauled on the starboard tack.
"What do you make of her?" I asked anxiously. "She shows no ancient."
"I know not; but we will show ours," replied my father. "Run below to
the flag locker and see if an English flag is therein."
Amidst a medley of bunting I found one stained and ragged, yet 'twas
the Cross of St. George, in spite of its woebegone state. Quickly it
was hoisted to the fore-truck, where it fluttered out bravely in the
strong breeze.
In reply the stranger hoisted her colours, but owing to her canvas it
was at first impossible to distinguish them. But as the ancient drew
clear above the topsail-yard we both cheered madly with sheer
thanksgiving. It was the Cross of St. George.
The galley saw it too, and, sheering off, began to make for the
shelter of a friendly port. But against the now heavy sea and with
her oars greatly undermanned her progress was but slow.
Round swept the barque in pursuit, her double row of ordnance run out
for action. As she passed us a voice hailed us in stentorian tones:
"Lay to, friend; we'll be with you ere night."
Then as she thrashed her way through the foam we saw written on her
stern the words: "_Nonsuch_ of Dartmouth."