Among the spectators on the mole were the governor and other
principal officers of Arica.
"It seems almost like a miracle from heaven," the priest, who was
standing next the governor, exclaimed.
The governor was scowling angrily at the boat.
"If there be a miracle," he said, "good father, it is that our eyes
have been blinded so long. Think you, for a moment, that two lads
who have been brought up among the Indians, from their childhood,
could manage a boat in such a sea as this? Why, if their story were
true they could, neither of them, ever have handled an oar; and
these are sailors, skillful and daring beyond the common, and have
ventured a feat that none of our people here on shore were willing
to undertake. How they got here I know not, but assuredly they are
English sailors. This will account for their blue eyes and light
hair, which have so puzzled us; and for that ignorance of Spanish,
which they so craftily accounted for."
Although the assembled mass of people on the beach had not arrived
at the conclusions to which the governor had jumped, they were
filled with astonishment and admiration at the daring deed which
had been accomplished; and when the boat was safely brought round
behind the shelter of the rock, and its occupants landed on the
shore, loud cheers broke from the crowd; and the lads received a
perfect ovation, their comrades of the barracks being especially
enthusiastic. Presently the crowd were severed by two soldiers, who
made their way through it and, approaching Ned and Tom, said:
"We have the orders of the governor to bring you to him."
The lads supposed that the governor desired to thank them, for
saving the lives of the shipwrecked men; for in the excitement of
the rescue, the thought that they had exposed themselves by their
knowledge of seamanship had never crossed their minds. The crowd
followed tumultuously, expecting to hear a flattering tribute paid
to the young men who had behaved so well. But the aspect of the
governor as, surrounded by his officers, he stood in one of the
batteries on the mole, excited a vague feeling of astonishment and
surprise.
"You are two English seamen," he said, when the lads approached.
"It is useless lying any longer. Your knowledge of seamanship, and
your appearance, alike convict you."
For an instant the boys were too surprised to reply, and then Tom
said, boldly:
"We are, sir. We have done no wrong to any man, and we are not ashamed,
now, to say we are Englishmen. Under the same circumstances, I doubt
not that any Spaniard would have similarly tried to escape recognition.
But as chance has betrayed us, any further concealment were unnecessary."
"Take them to the guard house," the governor said, "and keep a
close watch over them. Later, I will interrogate them myself, in
the palace."
The feelings of the crowd, on hearing this unexpected colloquy,
were very mixed. In many, the admiration which the boys' conduct
had excited swallowed up all other feeling. But among the less
enthusiastic minds, a vague distrust and terror was at once excited
by the news that English sailors were among them. No Englishman had
ever been seen on that coast, and they had inflicted such terrible
losses, on the West Indian Islands and on the neighboring coast,
that it is no matter for surprise that their first appearance on
the western shores of South America was deemed an omen of terrible
import.
The news rapidly spread from mouth to mouth, and a large crowd
followed in the rear of the little party, and assembled around the
governor's house. The sailors who had been rescued had many friends
in the port, and these took up the cause of the boys, and shouted
that men who had done so gallant a deed should be pardoned,
whatever their offense Perhaps, on the whole, this party were in
the majority. But the sinister whisper that circulated among the
crowd, that they were spies who had been landed from English ships
on the coast, gradually cooled even the most enthusiastic of their
partisans; and what at one time appeared likely to become a
formidable popular movement, gradually calmed down, and the crowd
dispersed.
When brought before the governor, the boys affected no more
concealment; but the only point upon which they refused to give
information was respecting the ships on which they had sailed, and
the time at which they had been left upon the eastern coast of
America. Without absolutely affirming the fact, they led to the
belief that they had passed some years since they left their
vessels.
The governor presently gazed sharply upon them, and demanded:
"Are you the two whites who headed the negro revolt in Porto Rico,
and did so much damage to our possessions in that island?"
Ned would have hesitated as to the answer, but Tom at once said,
firmly:
"We are not those two white men, sir, but we know them well; and
they were two gallant and loyal Englishmen who, as we know, did
much to restrain the atrocities of the Indians. We saw them, when
they regained their ships."
It was lucky, indeed, that the governor did not put the question
separately, instead of saying, "Were you two the leaders?" for in
that case Ned would have been forced to acknowledge that he was one
of them.
The outspokenness of Tom's answer allayed the governor's
suspicions. A great portion of his questioning was directed to
discovering whether they really had crossed the continent; for he,
as well as the populace outside, had at first conceived the idea
that they might have been landed on the coast as spies. The fact,
however, that they were captured far up among the Cordilleras;
their dress and their appearance; and their knowledge of the native
tongues--which he tested by bringing in some natives, who entered
into conversation with them--convinced him that all this portion of
their story was true.
As he had no fear of their escaping he said that, at present, he
should not treat them as prisoners; and that their gallant conduct,
in rowing out to save the lives of Spaniards in danger, entitled
them to every good treatment; but that he must report their case to
the authorities at Lima, who would of course decide upon it.
The priest, however, urged upon the governor that he should
continue his instructions to them in the Catholic religion; and the
governor then pointed out to Ned, who alone was able to converse
fluently in Spanish, that they had now been so long separated from
their countrymen that they might, with advantage to themselves,
become naturalized as Spaniards; in which case he would push their
fortunes to the utmost and, with his report in their favor, they
might rise to positions of credit and honor; whereas, if they
insisted upon maintaining their nationality as Englishmen, it was
but too probable that the authorities at Lima would consider it
necessary to send them, as prisoners, to Spain. He said, however,
that he would not press them for an answer, at once.
Greatly rejoiced at finding that they were not, at present, to be
thrown into prison; but were to be allowed to continue their
independent life, in the barracks; the lads took their departure
from the governor's house, and were most cordially received by
their comrades.
For a short time everything went smoothly. The suspicion that they
were spies had now passed away, and the remembrance of their
courageous action made them popular among all classes in the town.
A cloud, however, began to gather slowly round them. Now that they
had declared their nationality, they felt that they could no longer
even pretend that it was likely that they might be induced to
forsake their religion; and they accordingly refused, positively,
to submit any longer to the teaching of the priests. Arguments were
spent upon them in vain and, after resorting to these, threats were
not obscurely uttered. They were told, and with truth that, only
two or three months before, six persons had been burned alive, at
Lima, for defying the authority of the church; and that, if they
persisted in their heretical opinions, a similar fate might fall
upon them.
English boys are accustomed to think with feelings of unmitigated
horror, and indignation, of the days of the Inquisition; and in
times like these, when a general toleration of religious opinion
prevails, it appears to us almost incredible that men should have
put others to death, in the name of religion. But it is only by
placing ourselves in the position of the persecutors, of the middle
ages, that we can see that what appears to us cruelty and
barbarity, of the worst kind, was really the result of a zeal; in
its way as earnest, if not as praiseworthy, as that which now
impels missionaries to go, with their lives in their hands, to
regions where little but a martyr's grave can be expected. Nowadays
we believe--at least all right-minded men believe--that there is
good in all creeds; and that it would be rash, indeed, to condemn
men who act up to the best of their lights, even though those
lights may not be our own.
In the middle ages there was no idea of tolerance such as this. Men
believed, fiercely and earnestly, that any deviation from the creed
to which they, themselves, belonged meant an eternity of
unhappiness. Such being the case, the more earnestly religious a
man was, the more he desired to save those around him from this
fate. The inquisitors, and those who supported them, cannot be
charged with wanton cruelty. They killed partly to save those who
defied the power of the church, and partly to prevent the spread of
their doctrines. Their belief was that it was better that one man
should die, even by the death of fire, than that hundreds should
stray from the pale of the church, and so incur the loss of eternal
happiness. In the Indies, where the priests in many cases showed a
devotion, and heroic qualities, equal to anything which has ever
been displayed by missionaries, in any part of the world,
persecution was yet hotter than it ever was in civilized Europe.
These men believed firmly that it was their bounden duty, at any
cost, to force the natives to become Christians; and however we may
think that they were mistaken and wrong, however we may abhor the
acts of cruelty which they committed, it would be a mistake,
indeed, to suppose that these were perpetrated from mere lightness
of heart, and wanton bloodthirstiness.
The laws of those days were, in all countries, brutally severe. In
England, in the reign of Henry the Eighth, the loss of an ear was
the punishment inflicted upon a man who begged. The second time he
offended, his other ear was cut off. A third repetition of the
offense, and he was sold into slavery; and if he ran away from his
master, he was liable to be put to death by the first person who
met him. The theft of any article above the value of three
shillings was punishable by death, and a similar code of punishment
prevailed for all kinds of offenses Human life was then held in
such slight regard that we must remember that, terrible as the
doings of the Inquisition were, they were not so utterly foreign,
to the age in which they were perpetrated, as would appear to us,
living in these days of moderate punishment and general humanity.
By the boys, however, brought up in England, which at that time was
bitterly and even fiercely anti-Catholic--a state of things which
naturally followed the doings in the reign of Queen Mary, and the
threatening aspect maintained by Spain towards this country--popery
was held in utter abhorrence, and the Inquisition was the bugbear
with which mothers frightened their children, when disobedient.
The thought, therefore, of falling into the hands of this dreaded
tribunal was very terrible to the boys. They debated, between
themselves, whether it would not be better for them to leave Arica
secretly, to make for the mountains, and to take up their lot, for
life, among the natives of the plains, who had so hospitably
received them. They had, indeed, almost arrived at the conclusion
that this would be their best plan of procedure.
They lingered, however, in the hope, daily becoming fainter, of the
arrival of Drake's fleet; but it seemed that, by this time, it must
have failed in its object of doubling the Horn. Nearly six months
had elapsed, since they had been left on the eastern coast; and,
according to their calculation of distance, two months should have
amply sufficed to enable them to make the circuit of Southern
America.
They could not tell that the fleet had been delayed by
extraordinary accidents. When off the Cape they had met with
storms, which continued from the 7th of September to the 28th of
October, without intermission; and which the old chronicler of the
expedition describes as being "more violent, and of longer
continuance, than anything since Noah's flood." They had to waste
much time, owing to the fact that Captain Winter with one of the
ships had, missing his consorts in the storm, sailed back to
England, that two other ships were lost, and that Captain Drake
with his flagship, which alone remained, had spent much time in
searching for his consorts, in every inlet and island.
Among those saved, in the boat from the Spanish ship, was a young
gentleman of rank and fortune, and owner of large estates near
Lima, who had come down upon some business. He took a great
affection for the young Englishmen, and came each day to visit
them, there being no let or hindrance on the part of the governor.
This gentleman assured them that he possessed great influence at
Lima; and that, although he doubted not that the military
authorities would treat them with all courtesy, after the manner in
which they had risked their lives to save subjects of his majesty;
yet that, should it be otherwise, he would move heaven and earth in
their favor.
"There is but one thing I dread," he said, and a cloud came over
his handsome face.
"You need hardly say what it is," Ned said, gravely. "You mean, of
course, the Inquisition."
The Spaniard signified his assent by a silent movement of the head.
"We dare not speak, above our breath, of that dreaded tribunal," he
said. "The very walls appear to have ears; and it is better to face
a tiger, in his den, than to say ought against the Inquisition.
There are many Spaniards who, like myself, loathe and abhor it; but
we are powerless. Their agents are everywhere, and one knows not in
whom he dare confide. Even in our families there are spies, and
this tyranny, which is carried on in the name of religion, is past
all supporting.
"But, even should the 'holy office' lay its hands upon you, keep up
heart. Be assured that I will risk all that I am worth, and my
life, to boot, to save you from it."
"Would you advise us to fly?" Ned said. "We can without doubt
escape from here, for we are but lightly guarded; and the governor,
I am sure, is friendly towards us."
"Whither would you fly?" asked the young Spaniard.
"We would cross the mountains to the plains, and join the Indians
there."
"It would be a wretched life," the Spaniard said, "and would cut
you off from all kindred, and friends. I can give you no advice. To
me, I confess, death would be preferable, even in its worst forms.
But to you, fond of exercise, and able to cause yourself to be
respected, and feared, by the wild Indians of the Pampas, it might
be different.
"However, you need not decide, yet. I trust that, even should the
worst befall you, I may be able, at the last moment, to give you
the opportunity of choosing that life, in preference to death in
the dungeons of the Inquisition."
It was about ten days from the date of the governor's writing that
a ship came in from Lima, and the same evening the governor came in
to them, with a grave face. He was attended by two officials,
dressed in the deepest black.
"Senors," he said, "it is my duty, in the first place, to inform
you that the governor of Lima, acting upon the report, which I sent
him, of the bravery which you manifested in the matter of the wreck
here, has agreed to withdraw all question against you, touching
your past connection with the English freebooters; and to allow you
freedom, without let or hindrance, and to further your passage to
such place as opportunity may afford, and where you may be able to
meet with a ship from your own country. That is all I have to say
to you."
Then the men in black stepped forward and said, "We arrest you, in
the name of the holy Inquisition, on the charge of heresy."
The young men glanced at the governor, believing that he was
sufficiently their friend to give them a sign, if resistance would
be of any avail. He replied to the unspoken question by an almost
imperceptible shake of the head; and it was well that the boys
abandoned the idea, for the door opened and a guard of six men,
armed to the teeth, although in plain dark clothes, entered. These
were the alguazils of the holy office, the birds of night, whose
appearance was dreaded even by the most bigoted Spaniards; and at
whose approach mothers clasped their children closer to their
breast, and men crossed themselves, at the thought that their
passage boded death to some unhappy victim. For it must be
remembered that the Inquisition, framed at first only for the
discovery and punishment of heresy, later became an instrument of
private vengeance. Men denounced wives of whom they wished to be
rid, wives husbands; no relations of kin were sufficient to ensure
safety. The evidence, sometimes true, was more often manufactured
by malice and hate; until at last even the most earnest and sincere
Catholics trembled when they thought that, at any moment, they
might be denounced and flung into the dungeons of the Inquisition.
Brave as the lads were, they could not avoid a thrill of horror, at
the presence of the familiars of this dreaded body. They were,
however, cheered by the thought of the promises of the young
Spaniard, in whose honesty and honor they had great faith; and with
a few words of adieu to the governor, and thanks to him for what he
had done in their behalf, they followed the officers of the
Inquisition along the streets of Arica, and suffered themselves to
be placed on board the boat, which lay alongside the mole.
Although it was late in the evening, their passage was not
unobserved. Many of the soldiers recognized, in the two men
marching, surrounded by the black guard of the Inquisition, their
late comrades; and, confident in their numbers, these did not
hesitate to lift their voices, in loud protest, against this
seizure of men who had behaved so gallantly. In the darkness, too,
they feared not that their faces would be recognized, and their
curses and threats rose loud in the air.
People looking out from their doors, to hear the cause of the
uproar, were variously affected. Some joined in the movement of the
soldiers; but more shrank back with dread into their houses, rather
than be compromised with so dreaded a body.
The threats, however, did not proceed to open violence; and as the
young men, themselves, gave no sign of attempting an effort for
freedom, their comrades contented themselves with many shouts of
good wishes, mingled with curses upon their captors; and the lads
were embarked, without the alguazils having to use the swords which
they had drawn in readiness for the expected fray.
"You are witness, senor officer," Ned said, "that we came without
resistance; and that, had we chosen, we could, with the assistance
of the soldiers, have easily broken from the hold of your men. We
are willing, however, to proceed with you to Lima; where we doubt
not that the justice of our judges will result in our acquittal. No
one can blame us that we are of the religion of our fathers. Had we
been born Catholics, and then relapsed into heresy, it would have
been reasonable for you to have considered our case; but as we but
hold the religion which we have been taught, and know indeed of no
other, we see not how, in any man's eyes, blame can rest upon us."
"I take note," the officer said, "of the docility with which you
have remained in our hands; and will so far testify in your favor
Touching the other matter, it is beyond my jurisdiction."
The vessel in which the boys were embarked was a slow one and, two
days after leaving Arica, they saw a small sailing craft pass them,
at no great distance, sailing far more rapidly than they themselves
were going. The boys gave no thought to this occurrence, until they
arrived at the harbor of Lima. A large number of ships were here
anchored and, after the solitude of the sea, which they had endured
during their voyage from England, this collection of fine galleons
greatly pleased the boys, who had never seen so large a number of
ships collected together, there being nigh forty sail then in
harbor.
As the officers of the Inquisition scarcely ever pass through the
streets in the daytime, owing to the known hostility of the mass of
the population, no attempt at a landing was made, until nightfall.
The officer in charge was however surprised, upon reaching the
landing place, to find a large crowd assembled, who saluted his
party with hisses and groans, and loud cries of "shame!" Those
behind pressed forward, and those in front were forced into the
ranks of the alguazils; and it seemed, at one time, as if the
prisoners would be separated from their guards.
A man in a rough peasant's dress was forced in contact with Ned,
and said hastily, in a low voice to him:
"Keep up your heart. When preparations are made, I will act."
Ned recognized the voice of the young Spanish gentleman, whom he
had left at Arica; and guessed immediately that he had taken
passage in the swift-sailing caravel, in order to be able to reach
Lima before the vessel containing the prisoners. Ned had, in
confidence, in his talks with him, informed him that he still
hoped, although his hopes had now fallen almost to zero from the
long tarrying of the fleet, that the English admiral would arrive;
and that he should be able to go on board, and so rejoin his
countrymen. This expectation, indeed, it was which had prevented
Ned and Tom making their escape, when they could have done so, and
taking to the mountains; for it was certain that some time, at
least, would elapse before stringent measures would be taken
against them. Another effort would, without doubt, be made to
persuade them to abandon their religion; and every day might bring
with it the arrival of the English vessels.
The young men were conducted to a dark and sombre building, which
bore the appearance of a vast monastery. The interior was even more
dismal in its appearance than the walls without. A solitary figure
met them at the doorway. Their guards entered, and the gates were
closed behind.
The officer in charge handed to the newcomer a paper; and the
latter, receiving it, said, "I accept the charge of the prisoners,
and your duties are at an end, concerning them."
Motioning them to follow, he led them through some long dark
corridors, into a room much better furnished and provided than they
had expected. Here, placing a lamp upon the table, and pointing to
two manchets of bread and a vessel of water, which stood on the
table; and to two truckle beds, in the corner of the room, he left
them without a word. Ned had already agreed with his companion that
they would not, when once within the building, say a word, to each
other, which they would not have heard by their jailors; for they
were well aware that these buildings were furnished with listening
places, and that every word which prisoners said would be
overheard, and used against them. They comforted themselves,
therefore, with general observations as to their voyage, and to the
room in which they now were; and to the hopes, which they
entertained, that their judges would take a favorable view of their
conduct.
Then, with a sincere prayer to God, to spare them through the
dangers and trials which they might have to undergo, they lay down
for the night; and, such is the elasticity and strength of youth,
they were, in spite of the terrible position in which they were
placed, in a few minutes fast asleep.
The next day the door of the apartment opened, and two attendants,
dressed in black from head to foot, and bearing white wands,
entered, and motioned to them to follow them. Through more long
corridors and passages they went, until they stopped at some thick
curtains, overhanging a door. These were drawn aside, the door
behind them was opened, other curtains hanging on the inside were
separated, and they entered a large apartment, lighted artificially
by lamps from above.
At a table at the end of the room were seated three men, also in
black. They were writing, and for some time did not look up from
their work. The attendants stood motionless by the side of the
lads; who, in spite of their courage, could not but shudder at the
grim silence of this secret tribunal.
At last the chief inquisitor laid down his pen and, lifting his
eyes towards them, said:
"Your names are Edward Hearne and Thomas Tressilis. You are English
sailors who, having crossed from the other side of the continent,
made your way to Arica; where you did, as I am told, a brave
action, in saving the lives of some Spanish sailors."
Tom assented gravely to the address.
"You are accused," the inquisitor went on, "of being steeped in the
errors of heresy; and of refusing to listen to the ministrations of
the holy father, who tried to instruct you in the doctrines of the
true church. What have you to say to this?"
"It is true, sir," Ned said, "every word. We were born Protestants,
and were brought up in that church. Had we been born in Spain we
should, no doubt, have been true members of your church. But it is
hard that men, once ingrained in a faith, should change it for
another. It were like asking a tiger to become a leopard. We are
unlearned men, and in no way skilled in the exercises of theology.
We accepted what we were taught, and would fain die in the same
belief. Doubtless your priests could give us arguments which we
should be unable to refute, whatever might be done by learned men
of our church; and we would pray you to suffer us to hold to the
creed in which we have been reared."
"It is impossible," the inquisitor said, "that we should permit you
to go on, straightway, in the way of damnation. Your bodies are as
nothing to the welfare of your souls; and to save the one it were,
indeed, for your good that the other were tormented. We will not,
however, press you now to recant your errors. You shall be attended
by a minister of the true religion, who will point out to you the
error of your courses; and in three days we shall expect an answer
from you. If you embrace the faith of the Holy Church you may, if
you choose to remain here, rise to posts of honor and wealth; for
we have heard good things of your courage and prudence. If,
however, you remain stubborn, we shall find means to compel you to
do that which we would fain that you should do of your free will;
and if you still defy, at once, the kindness and the chastisement
of the church, you will receive that doom which awaits all who defy
its authority."
The attendants now touched the lads on the arm, in token that the
audience was over, and led them back to the room in which they had
first been confined. When left alone the boys examined this
closely, although seeming to be looking without motive at the
walls. The windows were placed high up from the ground, far beyond
their reach, and were thickly barred.
The door was of massive oak; and the room, although in appearance
but an ordinary apartment, was truly a dungeon as safe, and as
difficult to break out of, as if far below the surface of the
earth. Later on, when an attendant came in with the bread and
water, which formed the substance of each meal, as he placed it on
the table he said, in a low muttered whisper:
"Hope always. Friends are working."
This intimation greatly raised the spirits of the prisoners, as
they felt that their friend the Spaniard had already succeeded in
corrupting some, at least, of the familiars of the Inquisition; and
that no means would be spared to secure their escape, should the
worst occur.
For three days they were visited for many hours daily by a priest,
who endeavored to explain to Ned the points of difference between
the two religions, and to convince him of the errors of that of
England. Ned, however, although but a poor theologist, gave answer,
to all his arguments, that he could in no way reply to the
reasonings of the priest; but that he was, nevertheless, convinced
of their error, and sure that a divine of his church would have
found replies to difficulties to which he could see no outlet. The
priest strove earnestly with him, but at the end of the third day
he retired, exasperated, saying angrily that he now left them to
other hands.