HOME.
The Englishmen were doomed to idle about in San Juan for some weeks,
and during that time the little money they had found on the _Santa
Maria_ melted away. Vessels did not enter the little port very often.
The Portuguese and Spaniards, save Hernando, found temporary work on
neighbouring estates and plantations, and Morgan and his fellows of the
_Golden Boar_ had plenty of offers of employment; but they preferred to
abide together under the wing of Hernando, fearing to betray their
nationality by mixing separately and freely with the Spanish settlers.
Hernando for his part stuck loyally to them, and none of the others
said or did aught to bring suspicion upon their late comrades. The
fugitives longed and waited for a ship, hoping to get a passage in her
to some place off the mainland. It was by no means an unusual thing
for sailors to desert their ship when she touched at a port; some,
indeed, undertook a voyage with this end in view, the allurements of
the golden tropics proving stronger than any sense of duty.
At length a small ship arrived from Cuba, bringing a consignment of
Spanish goods from the depôt at Santiago; she was to take back silver
bars for transhipment to Lisbon. Would the skipper give a passage to
seven strange sailors whose appearance was not too Spanish? It was
doubtful. Yet it turned out that he was only too glad to do so. More
than seven of his crew deserted, and went away to the west in search of
the silver mines from which the bars had come. Morgan always had a
shrewd suspicion that Hernando cleverly engineered the desertion for
the sake of his English friends. In any case the desertion took place
most opportunely, and the fugitives got the passage they desired. For
the sake of appearances both gentlemen adventurers played the part of
common sailors. At the last moment Hernando decided to go to Cuba with
them. He felt that a few months there would do him good, and help
certain keen-eyed people to forget his face. Moreover, he was
generously anxious to see the safety of the Englishmen more fully
assured.
The season was not the best in the year for sailing, and the voyage to
Santiago was a rough one. The new sailors behaved admirably; and
though the captain was more than a little suspicious of their
nationality, he said nothing and paid them well. Moreover, he was
largely instrumental in getting them a passage to Europe. Hernando's
tongue and the talismanic name of Drake did the rest.
The _Donna Philippa_ was a galleon of medium class, but well-built and
swift-sailing. She was attempting the Atlantic voyage in the winter
season, as the authorities preferred to trust her precious cargo to the
chances of the storms rather than to the mercies of the English
corsairs. These were not abroad on the high seas in the cold season,
when ocean traffic was small and tempests frequent; but in the summer
time no Spanish captain knew when one of the dreaded craft might appear
above the horizon. It is difficult to realize nowadays the terror that
Drake and fellow captains--pirates all--had inspired in the breasts of
Spanish seamen.
The galleon had not her full complement of crew, for there were some
who had come out who were not as favourably disposed towards a winter
voyage as was their captain. The latter spoke to the skipper of the
coaster concerning his difficulties, and the skipper told him of the
men he had picked up at San Juan. He did not hide his suspicions that
there was more English than Spanish blood in their veins. He
acknowledged that they were splendid sailors; but, being as he believed
English deserters, he regarded them as desperate fellows, assuming a
gentleness and zealous obedience quite foreign to their nature.
It was here that Hernando stepped in and played his part. No one
doubted his nationality; and he, hearing of the shortage of good
sailors on the galleon, did his last ingenious act of kindness for his
comrades in misfortune. Over a cup of wine in the state-room of the
_Donna Philippa_ he told a story that did his heart and his wits equal
credit. He began it by confirming the skipper's suspicions that his
last batch of sailors were English to the very marrow of their bones.
"Yet I love them," he declared, "and would place my life and my
father's life in their hands without an instant's hesitation."
Then followed an account of his own shipwreck months before with some
other Spanish gentlemen. "We found," said he, "a boat, and coasted
with her seeking a harbour. We met the Englishmen, wrecked also. They
were a stronger party than we were. They joined us--worked with us for
months like brothers. We sailed seas together, fought foes, swam
rivers, climbed mountains, threaded forests, shared food, drink,
raiment, money--everything. They told us their story. Two of them, as
you may see, are not common sailors, but gentlemen of position,
favourites of their Queen, bosom friends and lovers of Drake, Raleigh,
Hawkins, Grenville, Whiddon, and all the mighty English captains. They
want to get home. Take them as they are. I'll pledge my life they'll
serve you faithfully and cheerfully, and they'll _insure your cargo
against seizure by their friends_! Mark that; their presence aboard
the _Donna Philippa_ will assure her the polite and friendly attentions
of every English captain on the high seas. See the two gentlemen in my
presence, and find out their value for yourself. Were I in your place
I should fall down and thank the Mother of God for sending me such help
in my hour of need."
The captain of the galleon pondered the matter. Hernando pressed his
views upon him, and the skipper of the coaster seconded him. Morgan
and Jeffreys were brought aboard. They readily offered themselves as
working passengers; expressed themselves as willing to take an oath of
fidelity to the captain if he would take another one to them; and
assured him that no English captain would rob him of a jot of his
cargo, or treat him other than as a friend and brother, whilst they
were with him to tell of his kindness to them.
The bargain was struck. Morgan, Jeffreys, and the five sailors were
duly entered on the ship's books, owning to the Spanish names bestowed
on them by Hernando. The two gentlemen went as passengers, with a
sailor each as servant; the other three took their places amongst the
crew. Two of them had been long enough in the galleys to speak Spanish
as well as they spoke their mother tongue. They cleared Santiago
safely towards the end of January.
The _Donna Philippa_ was called upon to pay some penalty for her
rashness in crossing the Atlantic in winter. Again and again did the
tempests strike her, shattering some of her timbers, swamping her with
terrific seas, and driving her for days out of her proper course. It
is probable that the greater skill of her English sailors and
passengers alone saved her from destruction. They were more accustomed
to the stormy northern seas than were their Spanish comrades, and they
set an example of cool courage and endurance that saved the galleon
from worse disasters than those that actually befell her. If he met no
English corsairs, the Spanish captain had reason to congratulate
himself on his wisdom in accepting Hernando's advice in Santiago.
Needless to say, the ship was never becalmed, and the howling winds
that drove her out of her way would often moderate, turn round, and
send her bowling homewards. The skipper hoped to make the Azores as
his first land, but a south-westerly wind springing up in early March
and continuing for some days, he held on direct for Lisbon. So far no
human enemy had molested him.
The ship was nearing the coast of Portugal, and the sailors were
expecting to sight land on the morrow. March was half-way through, the
sun warm by day and the breezes often southerly and genial. Morgan and
Jeffreys were wondering what might befall them in the realms of King
Philip, and how they should get ship from there to England. They had
but little money, as the captain had treated them as guests of gentle
birth, paying with food the services they could render him. Spain was
dangerous ground for English feet, and no foreign land could well be
pleasant to a set of penniless men. The prospect was not alluring.
Now and again sails appeared above the horizon, and after weary
watching Jeffreys espied one that he declared to be English. The
vessel was coming up from the south, and the _Donna Philippa_ was
steering almost due east. At a certain point their paths would cross.
The two Englishmen went to the captain and called his attention to
this, and asked him to shape his course so as to meet the oncoming
boat, and put them aboard if she chanced to be English.
The skipper demurred at first. His cargo was precious, but safe; he
was almost in sight of home. Why should he run risks? The adventurers
assured him that there could be no risk. The stranger vessel was a
small one; if any other than English, she would never dare to fight a
ship of the tonnage of the _Donna Philippa_; and if English, they would
guarantee that not a blow should be struck. After much persuasion the
captain consented.
The little ship was hailed, and proved to be a Canary trader bound for
Bristol. Morgan went aboard and explained matters, and the captain
gladly consented to receive them and give them a passage home. So, to
the surprise of the crew of the galleon, the men were transhipped a
day's sail from harbour.
Ten days later the trader dropped anchor in the Avon. Morgan went to
the mayor of the city, saw him privately, and explained who he was, and
what had befallen him and his comrades. His worship listened to the
story, and advanced the adventurer money to take him and his friends to
their homes. The next day the seven, with handshakes, kisses, even
tears, separated and went their several ways.