In the autumn of that year my lord came back, and in my joy at seeing
him again I hardly felt that he was sad. The Lord Essex had prevailed
against him with the Queen and he was returned to exile, although one of
his ships had brought in a Spanish galleon worth fifty thousand pounds.
It must be remembered of him that his passion for discovering the
unknown worlds swallowed up all the treasure he was able to discover; so
that the sea was never without his ships, and one expedition but led to
another.
Had he been differently framed this season at Youghall had been happy
enough. For now there was no fighting to be done he led that quiet and
pastoral life which might have won him Master Spenser's title for him,
_The Shepherd of the Ocean_. He delighted himself by planting the
strange seeds and roots he had brought from the ends of the earth and
seeing them thrive. All his garden ventures were fortunate. The kindly
Irish soil suited well with the tobacco, the myrtle, and the fuchsia. At
Affane, a little way up the Blackwater, he had his orchards, where
already the cherry grew abundantly. There, also, on sunny banks, he
sowed in long rows a strange fruit called the potato, whereof the fruit
is in the earth, and the leaves above it, and a very pleasant fruit to
eat when well boiled, being of a sweet flouriness within.
Another fruit from the Indies which he planted at Affane was called the
tomato--a great, smooth-skinned, scarlet fruit, over-heavy for its
branches, and of a strange half-sour flavor, which yet grew on one in
the eating. Another seed brought him by his captains was that of the
clove-gilly-flower, or wall-flower, a most sweet-smelling plant; and the
cedar also he planted.
He was as much set upon gardens as upon adventure and the search for new
countries. Those of his captains who had returned had brought with them
charts of the lands in which they had sailed, together with long reports
concerning the inhabitants, their manner of living, their food and
pursuits, the beasts and birds, the plants and ore, and all such
matters; over which my lord would sit and pore in the long winter
evenings, by the fire of driftwood, and smoking his long pipe. And
sometimes he would talk with Master Spenser concerning them; but more
often their talk ran on poetry and the arts. Master Spenser was working
at the later books of _The Faery Queen_, and had written also a very
pretty pastoral entitled _Colin Clout's Come Home Again_. Nor was my
lord's admirable pen silent. I went to and fro almost as a son; and I
can see my lord now in some gallant apparel, for he knew not what it was
to be slovenly, leaning back in his great chair, and reading from the
manuscript in his hand that lament he made for the death of the
stainless knight, Sir Philip Sidney, slain then at the battle of
Zutphen:
England does hold thy limbs that bred the same;
Flanders thy valour where it last was tried;
The camp thy sorrow where thy body died;
Thy friends thy want; the world thy virtue's fame.
Alas, if but Sir Walter had been content to be poet and gardener; but
whereas the one part of him was content the other tugged at his
heart-strings so that he was not happy. In gardening he had no rivals
except the Dutch, that great little republic of the water, since as
famous as England herself for great battles and adventures by sea.
Now, quiet as the time was, and I was often alone with my lord, it was
long before I found courage to speak to him of my birth. I know not why
I was so wary in approaching it, but somewhere in my heart I had a
warning that it would be unwelcome matter to him; so that often the
words rose to my lips and fell silent before I could say them. It was
indeed close upon a year from the time I had seen the monk that at last
I dared to touch upon the subject. It was one evening when we had been
gardening together, and tired after that pleasant toil we sat beneath
the myrtle trees. My lord's brow for a little while was unfurrowed with
care, and his eagle eyes looked at me softened through the mists of his
smoke.
"My lord--" I began, and then could go no further.
"What is it, Wat?" he asked kindly.
"My lord, I am troubled about the question of my birth. To be nameless
where every one hath a name is no light matter to bear."
"Hath any one reproached you?" he asked, and his eyes flashed.
"If any hath I should not have come even to you for redress," I said,
fingering my sword.
"Ah," he said, and he looked well pleased. "There spoke no nameless
boy!"
I breathed hard at the thought of what his speech meant. I was in act
indeed to ask him if I were truly a Fitzmaurice and of noble birth when
his next words held me, and, as it proved, the silence between us was to
last to the edge of the grave for one of us.
"Be content, boy, for a little while," he said, and his voice was of
great sweetness. "You are no nameless child; but let it be my secret for
a time. In time I shall reveal it. If I told you now it might mean that
we should part company."
"Never that," I said.
"Never that, I pray," he rejoined, adding--"because I love you, Wat."
Then after a few minutes of silence he went on:
"Your secret is left to no such blind chance as may befall such an one
as I. If aught happen to me, Master Boyle holds it safe, and will reveal
it in proper time."
"You will not tell me?" I broke out.
"To have it known would bring me some steps nearer the Tower," he said,
"and I wend that way already."
"Then keep it silent forever," I cried out.
"Nay; that would be hardly fair to you. Besides, you forget that Master
Boyle hath it."
"I like not Master Boyle."
"Nor do I, overmuch, Wat. He is one of your still, secret men, with the
lawyer's craft and cunning. What should there be between us?"
"I hate his peaked face and his yellow eyes, and the way he hath of
watching you and peering like a cat that sees in the dark."
"You are hard on Master Boyle, Wat. There is too much of the lawyer in
him, and he treads soft as a cat. Yet there is a man behind his greed
and his cunning. He is better framed for times like these than such an
one as I. I could never walk warily."
"He has your secret and can use it against you."
"He would do me no more harm than beggar me if he might so enrich
himself. My head would be no use to him, little Wat."
"'Tis a poor warranty for holding a secret," said I, bitterly.
"I am well-disposed to Master Boyle," my lord went on. "He is a man of
substance, Wat, and a useful friend for one like myself, who can keep
nothing. We shall not pluck the jewels from the gold-trees of Guiana
without money and ships. I am nearly sucked dry, and the Queen hath lost
faith in me."
Then I knew that my lord was not so contented as he had seemed of late,
and that further voyages were afoot. In the joy and excitement of the
prospect I forgot to fret about my namelessness. Besides, my lord knew
that I was noble; and Master Boyle knew it, and treated me with a
consideration which should have won my regard if it were not that I
distrusted his dealings with my lord.
And as the autumn of that year came on I noticed that my lord ceased to
care for his gardens and orchards and plantations, and would be forever
poring over maps and charts, and had long conversations with the master
of the Bon Aventure, which good ship lay yet in Youghall Harbor, and the
master did seem nigh as weary of idleness as Sir Walter himself. And
sometimes he had Master Boyle privily. Indeed, though I speak of him as
Master Boyle, 'tis from old habit; for about this time he had been
created my Lord Boyle for his services to the Queen's Majesty in the
better governance of Ireland.
At last the word came that we were to sail; and it was as if the quiet,
sleeping town of Youghall had started awake. Such a burnishing of arms
and armor; such a getting out of old materials of war; such a polishing
of decks and making of sails and mounting of guns on the good ship Bon
Aventure as never was known. All day long the singing of the sailors in
the harbor floated to us through the still air. And my lord's swarthy
face smiled once again as I had known it when I was a little lad, before
he was like a led eagle that is chained beyond hopping a little way.
My Lord Boyle had found us the funds; so much I knew, but liked him no
better. The evening before we were to sail there was a great banquet,
and many gentlemen came even from so far off as Dublin to wish the Great
Captain Godspeed. We were to sail at blink of the morning star, and
there was to be no sleeping for us till we were on shipboard. Never have
I seen my lord but once so magnificently clad. His doublet was of white
silk, so sewn with diamonds that the silk was hardly to be seen. His
hose were of white silk, his trunk-hose of silk with slashings of gold.
Over one shoulder he wore a short cloak of yellow velvet clasped with
diamonds; and the rosettes of his shoes were a blaze of diamonds. Seeing
his face in the midst of such splendor I marvelled how the Queen could
harden her heart against him--for never have I seen him in any
assemblage, however honorable, that he did not make the other gentlemen
seem mean and dull beside him.
When the gayety was at its highest and he feared not to be missed, I saw
him slip from the table with my Lord Boyle, and retire with him into the
oriel. The banquet had been set in the oriel-chamber because it was
lighter and more spacious.
When my lord had left the table I too went away. Looking at the horologe
my lord had given me, I saw that it lacked yet two hours of the time
when we should be aboard.
I went down stairs to the lower chamber, which was dark and silent. Once
more I thought I should endeavor to find the secret way through which
the death-damp came, and my midnight visitor of more than a year ago. If
he had sought me since he had not found me, for I had avoided being
alone there since that night.
There was neither moonlight nor rushlight in the room, so that I could
only grope with my fingers for the secret the panel must contain. For
some time I groped in vain. Then my nails seemed to have found a crack
in the wood, a mere notch in which they fitted. It gave me no promise,
for the oak had warped here and there, and had left a few furrows. I was
sure I had been over all the place before, yet now as I drew a little
way the whole panel began to move. I did not know then, nor could I see,
the cunning by which that door was devised so that none should discover
it. I have said that the chamber was quite dark.
Feeling now before me with my hands, I found a vacant square wide enough
for one to creep through. Through it the wind blew strongly, and it was
a cold, earthy, evil-smelling wind, such as I knew full well. Where
might it lead? There was a report amongst us that the house had secret
ways to the harbor; but it was no honest sea-wind, however confined and
far from its source, that blew my way, but something far more villanous.
I know not how it was that I seemed to forget that in less than two
hours we must embark. The present adventure held me to the exclusion of
all else. I stepped within the narrow passageway--crept within it, for I
had to go on hands and knees. I had no light nor aught else to guide me;
but if I thought at all it was that if the monk could come this way in
safety, I could go as he had come. But to leave a gaping panel was not
in my thoughts. Having entered I drew the panel to. Then feeling with my
hands I came upon a lock. Had I moved it by my touch, or had it been
left unlocked of design? There was no time for answering of riddles, and
having pushed the panel to I turned to pursue the adventure.