LADY BIDDY GIVES ME A WORD OF COMFORT.
I reached Fane Court eighteen months, as near as may be, from the time
our first unhappy expedition set out.
When I asked for Sir Bartlemy, the hall servant, seeing me all dusty
with travel and out at the heel, told me I must bide my time, as the
knight and Lady Biddy Fane were at dinner.
"No matter for that," says I; "tell him his nephew, Benet Pengilly, is
here, and I warrant you will fare better than if you kept him waiting
for the news."
The fellow started in amaze hearing my name, which was better known to
him than my face, and went without a word to carry the tidings of my
return to Sir Bartlemy. Almost immediately, afterwards my uncle came out
into the hall, and as quickly after him Lady Biddy--Sir Bartlemy as hale
and hearty as ever, and Lady Biddy, to my eyes, more beautiful than
before; but both pale and greatly amazed in countenance.
"Benet!" gasps the old knight, and that was all he could say. But he
held out his hand, which I took and pressed with great love, for my
feelings were much softened by hardship, and I was grieved to think of
the pain I was to give him instead of the joyful news he looked for.
Lady Biddy stepped forward, and her face lighting up with hope, she
looked for the moment as if she also might be kind to me, and welcome me
for the sake of her lover. But of a sudden she checked herself, seeing
my downcast complexion, and bating her breath, she says:
"Where is he? Where are the rest?"
Then says I, with as much courage as I could muster, but with pain that
went to my heart--
"I am the only man who has come back." And with that I hung my head, not
to see their grief.
"He is not dead--they are not all lost!" I heard her say, in a tone that
seemed mingled with, a silent prayer to merciful God.
"No," says I; "Sir Harry is not dead. I left him out there in Guiana;
but for the rest, if they be lost, 'tis their just reward."
Then Lady Biddy burst into tears to know that her lover lived, and Sir
Bartlemy, taking her by the arm and me by mine, led us into the
dining-hall without speaking.
By this time, Lady Biddy's emotion being passed, and her pride
returning, she took her arm from her uncle's, as if she would not accept
of kindness that was equally bestowed on such as I.
"Sit ye down there, Benet," says my uncle, pushing me to a seat; "and
now tell us all as briefly as you may; for I perceive that the case is
bad (with a plague to it!) though Harry live (God be thanked!); and if
there be a tooth to come out, the quicker it's done the better."
Then I told the bare truth: how Rodrigues and Ned Parsons had led the
crew astray and set us ashore, and the means of my coming again to
England, in as few words as I could shift with. When I had made an end
of this, Lady Biddy was the first to speak.
"Why did not Sir Harry come back with you?" says she.
"He scorns to come back a beggar," says I. "He will never return to
England until he can repay his obligations to Sir Bartlemy and ask you
to be his wife."
This gave her great joy, admiring in him that quality of pride which she
cherished in herself, so that her eyes sparkled again, and her fair
bosom swelled with a sigh of satisfaction. Presently she turned again
upon me, her pretty lips curved with disdain, and says she:
"And you left him there in that desert alone! Content to save your own
life, you abandoned him to hopeless solitude. Oh, that I had been a man
in your place!"
I hung my head again in silence, feeling it were better to bear her
reproach than to attempt an excuse; for I could not trust my tongue to
reveal the main reason of my escaping, for fear I should betray his
intention of turning pirate; and this, for the love I bore them, I was
resolved to keep secret.
"Nay," says Sir Bartlemy, coming to my help, but with no great
enthusiasm neither; "never beat the dog that comes home." He paused, and
I could fancy his adding to himself, "Curse him, for a mean-spirited
hound, all the same!" Then he continues, in a more hopeful tone, "If he
had not come home, how could we have known of Harry's peril? Come,
Benet; tell me that in coming hither you hoped to get succor for Harry."
"You might believe that," says I, "of a man with less heart than you
credit me withal. I came to beg for help because Sir Harry was too proud
to beg it himself."
"I knew as much," says he, taking my hand and shaking it heartily. Then
turning to my Lady Biddy, "And now, my dear, what's to do? I have no
money, and an expense I must be to you all the days that I live, now
that my all is lost, with a pox to those rascals that robbed me! But you
of your plenty will charter a ship to go out and fetch this poor man?"
"More than that must be done," says I. "He will only accept such help as
will enable him to recover all he has lost."
There was approval in Lady Biddy's looks when I said this.
"Odds my life! he's in the right of it," cries Sir Bartlemy, bumping the
table with his fist. "Plague take me if ever I'd come sneaking home with
my tail twixt my legs like a whipped cur that has neither the stomach to
bite nor to keep away from his sop. I mean nothing ill with regard to
you, Benet," he adds, turning about to me, "for I hold you have done the
part of a true friend and a good, and have shown more courage and high
spirit in this matter than many another. Well, what's to do, girl,
eh?"--turning now to Lady Biddy, and rubbing his thighs with his broad
hands cheerily.
Lady Biddy, with not less eagerness in her manner, looked to me, and
nodded that I should speak all that was in my mind.
"As much must be found as has been lost," says I. "For nothing less in
men or treasure will suffice Sir Harry to reach Manoa. And with that it
is a venture, and naught can be done without God's good help, for never
man saw a country so difficult to penetrate or such currents of rivers
to mount. And first, money must be raised."
"Money shall not lack. I will venture my fortune to the last piece,"
says Lady Biddy.
"Ay, and so would I, if I had aught to lose," cried Sir Bartlemy. "But
you, my girl, may well spare enough for this venture, and yet have as
much to lay by for another, if that fail."
"No time must be lost," says I.
"Not a moment," cries Lady Biddy, starting up as if she had but to fetch
money from her strong chest to accomplish all. "You must see about ships
and men at once, uncle."
"Ay," says he, "but who is to command them, and carry help to your
sweetheart in Guiana?"
Lady Biddy looked at him, and he at her, wetting his lips, as one with a
dainty dish set before him that he would fain eat of.
"I'm an old fellow, but there's life in me yet: there's vigor--there's
manhood," says he; "and if I decay 'twill be only for want of use. And I
know the seas as well as any man, and I warrant me no crew of mine
should take my ship from me, as from this poor lad, who put too great
faith in the honesty of seamen. I dream o' nights of ocean seas; and
feather-beds I do hate more than any man can--"
"Then why should not you command this expedition?" says Lady Biddy.
He tried to look astonished at this design; then putting his beard
betwixt his fingers and thumb, and shaking his head doubtfully, he tried
to look grave, but his merry eye twinkled with delight at this notion.
Yet presently his chap fell, and he looked truly serious.
"My dear," said he, "what am I to do with you? I can not leave a young
girl alone in this place, and you have no relative but me, nor any
steadfast friend to whom I may confide you, and a scurvy to it. Lord!
I'd have done it, but for this plaguy obstacle."
Then Lady Biddy, as mad as he and as fond, cries:
"Do you think I will be left at home to mope, as I have in these past
months? Nay--where my fortune goes, there go I also."
"And why not?" cries my uncle, banging the table again. "Was there ere a
better governor than Queen Bess, and she was a woman? And no queen that
ever lived had a higher spirit or a braver heart than thou, my dear!
Kiss me, for I love you. Now go fetch the chart from my closet. Benet"
(turning to me), "you shall go with me and be my counsel (as much as you
may, being but a poor sailor, I take it). We'll set to this at once;
ships must be bought and men got--honest men--and none of your rascals
who have come home with gold, and tell of getting it from the Ingas." In
this way he ran on, till Lady Biddy came in bringing the chart; and a
very good chart it was, so that I had no difficulty in pointing out the
island where we had been set ashore, as I have said.
Then did this uncle and niece lay out their plans gleefully as any
children designing a holiday jaunt--reckoning nothing of the perils and
terrors that I knew lay before us. But this sanguine temper was of that
family's nature. And beautiful it was to see that graceful, lovely girl
leaning over beside the old knight, following the course he laid down on
the card--her face all aglow with eager hope and love, her eyes
sparkling, and her rich, ruddy lips sweetly curved in a smile about her
little white teeth.
I know not how it came about--whether it was the pang which shot through
my heart as I reflected that this adorable creature was for another and
not for me--that for his sake was she hazarding her fortune and life,
while, if she thought of me, it was but with scorn; or whether my body
was exhausted by the fatigue it had endured in hastening hither and my
long fast (I had walked all night and eaten nothing but scraps of
cow-salad torn from the banks), I cannot say; only this I know that,
while I sat there watching that sweet girl, a great sickness and
faintness came upon me, so that I had to rise and go to the window for
air.
Then Sir Bartlemy spying me, and how my face was white and the cold
sweat standing in beads on my brow, perceived that I was sick. So he
brought me a mug of ale and some meat, which was his remedy for all
ills. But what did comfort more than these victuals was the kindness
that filled Lady Biddy's heart when she saw my case. No angel could have
been more tender. And while this mood was yet upon her, she said in my
ear:
"Benet, I did you wrong in my too great haste; for I see now that you
have served him with great love, and I must love you for so loving him."