I AM TAKEN AGAIN BY JACK GEDDES AND OTHERS, AND RESCUED BY RODRIGUES.
Sir Bartlemy's house was built upon a hill not far from St. Maw's and
looked over Falmouth Haven to Penny-come-quick. His estate was mostly
woodlands, and skirting the river Fal extended north beyond Philligh and
east as far as Tregony. In the midst of these woods had I lived for many
months unmolested, the worthy old knight, with good intent, bidding his
foresters let me kill what game I would for my use; and here had I built
me a hut as a shelter against the inclemency of the weather, thatching
it with broom and sods of turf. But twas a mistaken kindness on his
part, for this sufferance only tended to complete that state of savagery
into which I was sinking.
From childhood I have loved the woods, and found delight in studying the
secrets of nature--the growth of herbs, the places where they may be
found; the ways of birds and beasts, and the like; and when my hopes
were all cast over, I had fled thither, saying, "Here is a mistress
whose smile is not to be wooed in vain!" And, indeed, for a troubled
spirit I know no comfort so soothing as the woods after a spring shower,
when all is fresh and sweet, and every little blade of grass seems to
smile. For the most part my state was that of utter solitude. Many a day
I heard no sound but my own footfall, and saw nothing but the still
trees. For weeks and weeks I met no human creature; yet I had no
inclination to seek a companion. But at times my nature would revolt
against this unnatural condition of solitude, and a mad thirst for
debauchery would seize me. Then with my bow would I kill a buck, and,
selling it to those who were ever ready to buy venison of me at a fourth
of its value, I would go into Truro and spend my money in some gross
frolic like that which had brought me to the pillory (as I have shown).
And now, having dwelt long enough on my originals, yet not too long, for
I would show truly to what degradation may a man bring himself by
self-abandonment, I will continue this history without any further
digression.
To my hut, then, in the wood did I betake myself after my escape from
Truro, refreshing myself on the way with a plunge in the cool river; and
being arrived at my home, as I may call it, I went to a hollow oak hard
by, which served me as a storehouse, to see if aught was there to
satisfy the cravings of my stomach; but finding nothing save a hare
which I had hung there before leaving, and which now stank, for I had
been absent best part of three days, so that I could not eat it,
hungered though I was, I picked up my bow, which also I kept in this
place, and, taking a turn in the wood, I had presently the chance to
kill a wood-pigeon. Then I built a fire with dry sticks, of which there
was no lack at this season, laid my pigeon in the embers, and when it
had lain there as long as my patience would endure, I stripped off the
skin and feathers, and devoured it, using my fingers for fork and my
teeth for knife; and thus having partly quieted my stomach, though I
could have eaten half a dozen such small game, but was too tired to seek
more, I threw myself on the earth within my hut, and fell asleep at
once, nor did any pricking of conscience trouble me in the least.
And here I slept on till about eight o'clock in the evening, as I judge,
when an unwonted sound awoke me; for I had contracted the habit of
sleeping, as it were, with my ears open. But being mighty heavy with
sleep I did no more than sit up and glance stupidly through the opening
of my hut. I saw naught but a tranquil glow over the west through the
still leaves of the trees; and a nightingale then bursting out into song
at no great distance, I concluded there was nothing to fear; and
throwing myself on the ground, in a minute I was again sound asleep.
Nothing disturbed me after that through the night, but soon after
daybreak, as I take it, my ears were assailed by a confusion of sounds,
and ere I could spring to my feet, a fellow threw himself upon my chest,
another knelt upon my legs, and a third laid strong hands upon my
shoulders, and in a trice I felt cords cutting into my arms and binding
them to my sides.
"You escape not this time, Master Benet," growled a voice, and in truth
my captors were as good as this fellow's words, for enough cord was
bestowed about me as would have trussed up an elephant. My captors were
six; all stout fellows and well armed, amongst whom I recognized one of
the men that had served me the day before, and I cursed my folly that I
had lain myself open to be taken in this way; for I might have foreseen
the pursuit had I given it a thought. However, cursing was no good;
there was I clapped up and in a fair way to get my punishment doubled,
and more than that. And, as there was no likelihood of escape, the only
thing left me was to bear my ill-luck with the fortitude of despair. Yet
my heart sank as I saw them take up my bow which I had laid beside me on
going to sleep, for I knew I should have it no more, and how could I get
food or aught else without that when I got my liberty again? Better to
take my life, or rob me for ever of my liberty, than take that by which
I lived, thought I.
They haled me out into the open, and there for the first time this day I
spied the gipsy Rodrigues. He was seated on a fallen tree, with his
elbows on his knees, and his jaws in his hands, smoking tobacco in the
end of a clay pipe; and now he had his keen eyes fixed on me, watching
how I took this new buffet of fortune with the same look he had worn the
day before, when I stood in the pillory.
I guessed it was his step that had aroused me the fore-going evening,
and that he led on the sheriff's men to catch me, which was pretty near
the truth of the matter, as I shall presently show.
To make sure that I should not escape, the men tied me up to a tree;
then they proceeded to regale themselves from a store of meat, with
which their wallets were well filled, making very merry with me the
time; after which they consulted together in a low voice; and, one of
them having parleyed for a few minutes with Rodrigues, they all
stretched themselves out on the soft sward, and in a short time were
asleep and snoring like so many swine, which surprised me somewhat,
seeing that now the sun was getting pretty high.
For some while Rodrigues sat as still as any carved image, smoking his
pipe and looking at me; then up he gets, and passing the sleepers as
silently as might be, he comes to my side; and putting first his finger
on his lips, and jerking his thumb over his shoulders with a sly leer to
bid me be silent, he pulls a letter from his breast and showed me my
name written upon it. This he thrusts back in his breast, and, after a
glance over his shoulder to make sure all were still sleeping, he cut
the cords that bound me to the tree with his dagger, and leads me a good
stonecast distant, where we might converse in a low tone without being
heard.
Here he again lugged out the letter, and, spreading it out (the seal
being already broke), he held it before my eyes to read; for he had been
careful not to sever the cords that tethered my arms to my side.
It was my uncle's hand and signature.
"You have read this?" says I.
Rodrigues shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say, "I had been a fool
else," and then says he, with the utmost assurance:
"I was to have given it to you last night, but you were sleeping so
sweetly I had no heart to wake you. Besides, I thought you would more
readily listen to his advice if you were in bonds than if you were
free."
"So you betrayed me?"
"Not at once. I led the fellows up and down in the moonlight best part
of the night, that they might be overcome with fatigue this morning, and
so give me the opportunity of some serious conversation with you. Now
read what Sir Bartlemy has to say."
I was in no position to resent this insolence; so I did what was next
best--swallowed it, and followed his advice; and this is what I read:
"NEPHEW BENET,--You are no longer safe in my woods, for I have
no power to shield you from the law. Even now the officers are
out to apprehend you, and God knows what may befall if you are
taken. If you have any feeling for me, any love for your
father's memory, or any respect for yourself, you will escape
this new shame. My ships lie in the haven ready to depart, and
Sir Harry is still willing to accept you as his companion and
friend in the noble enterprise now toward. I do beg and implore
you be not a fool and a villain as well, but quickly accept
this offer. Rodrigues, who bears this, does undertake to carry
you safe to Flushing, where a boat lies in readiness to take
you on board the _Sure Hawk_, where you shall find all comfort
and good cheer, to say naught of the loving gratitude of thine
old uncle,
"BARTLEMY PENGILLY."
This gentle letter did somewhat move my heart; and surely its
sensibility had been gone beyond all recovery had it not responded to so
warm an appeal; and my first feeling was that I would do his bidding.
Then I bethought me what a mean and sneaking thing it was, after
refusing this offer when I was free to accept it when I was not free;
and what a hang-dog cur I should appear to all the crew when my story
became known, and how (under the mask of pity and patronage) Sir Harry
Smidmore must scorn me for a paltry fellow. And with that came the
remembrance of Lady Biddy's contempt; and, coupling these two together,
I was wrought again with fierce jealousy and hatred; and I did resolve
that I would die ten thousand deaths rather than give them this food for
their scorn.
Rodrigues, subtly watching me, must have seen the madness in my eye, for
he whispered at this point--
"Sir Harry is wondrous eager to get you."
"Curse Sir Harry!" I muttered.
"Not I," says he, with a quiet laugh. "He'll give me a score of gold
pieces if I take you to him; and no wonder, for he will be well repaid
with caresses when he takes the news to Lady Biddy."
"You'll get no pieces from him, nor he kisses from her, through me, I
promise you."
"Your ears will be cropped for a certainty if you are taken back to
Truro." And then, as I made no reply, he adds, "You are minded to break
your uncle's heart rather than your own pride."
"Nay," says I, "there's a way by which I may spare him shame, and myself
as well."
"Are you man enough to thrust a knife in your own heart?" says he.
"Ay!" says I joyfully; "do but try me. Give but my forearm fair play and
lend me your dagger. You shall be rewarded, I warrant, when you tell
Lady Biddy I am no more. Or do you thrust it into me if you doubt the
use I should make of the knife. I promise you I will not awake a single
sleeper with my groans."
He nodded approvingly, but made no attempt to take me at my word.
"Life isn't worth much," says he, "to a fool. And 'tis only a fool who
thinks there's never another loaf to be got when he's eaten the last
crust. Look at me," spreading his arms and surveying his rags--"a prince
last month, a beggar today. What of that? I'll be a king next year. And
so may you be," he adds, after a pause. But that did not tempt me; so
presently he goes on:
"If you had seen what I have seen, and if you were as hideous as I am,
and as old, yet you would not talk of ending your life. If you had seen
as I have seen"--speaking slowly, yet with passion, as, through his
half-closed eyes, he seemed to be looking at what he described--"a land
where the forests are flower-gardens, more fair than hand of man can
make; where trees--not like these stunted things, which are but bushes
by comparison--where trees I say, seem hung with precious gems, and
waters run on beds of gold and silver, and every rock is dazzling
crystal; where rich fruits tempt the appetite they never cloy; where
flying birds are like the flash of gems, and their song more sweet than
your musician ever heard in dreams; where the sun never parches nor cold
winds bite; where the gentle air is brisk as wine and charged with the
scent of leagues of flowers: if you had seen that land, I say, you would
want to see it again before you died."
These hints of southern glories I had heard before from my uncle; though
between his speech and this poetic gipsy's there was all the difference
betwixt north and south.
"To see this land might tempt you to oblige Sir Bartlemy," says he.
Then, after a bit, he continues, "But it does not, I perceive. You know
the intent of this enterprise--first, to gratify your uncle's whim; and,
next, to enrich Sir Harry, that he may wed Lady Biddy. You have no
relish to help him that way--to come home with a gruesome face to pull
the joy-bells at their wedding?"
"No, by the Lord! that will I never do!" says I.
"Then your answer to that letter is 'No'?"
"A thousand times 'No'!"
"You refuse the offer?"
"I do."
"I see you mean what you say," says he, looking me keenly in the eye,
"and I am right glad it is so. I am not mistaken in you, Pengilly. I saw
there was mettle in you from the first, else I had not taken all this
trouble on myself to win you. Had you said 'Yes' to that letter you
would have had me for your enemy, and it would have gone ill with you, I
promise. As it is, I am your friend, as I will quickly prove. For,
first, I will give you freedom, and after that a voyage to the south;
whence you shall speedily return, your ship laden with gold: then shall
you have possession of your mistress. All this I promise; ay, and more,
for you shall, if you will, revenge yourself of the insults this proud
maid has heaped upon you, and humble the man who would have taken her
from you, so that he shall not dare to show his face before her. What
say you to this?"
I could say nothing on the moment, being greatly perplexed by this
unexpected turn; and ere I could command my senses to inquire of
Rodrigues how he purposed compassing that which he proposed, we were
both mightily startled by hearing, at no great distance behind us, the
sound of men's voices; and presently one above the rest set to hallooing
"Jack Geddes! Jack Geddes!" which was the name of that sheriff's man who
had bound me as aforesaid. Then on the other side we heard the men who
lay asleep rousing each other with a great confusion of sound that
showed they had discovered my escape. Thus we stood between the party
which had taken me and a second party sent after to help them. And the
chance of getting freedom, to say nothing of riches and my sweetheart,
looked more unlikely than ever. Yet did we contrive to escape, as I
shall set forth in the next chapter.