Mrs Saint Leger was a small, somewhat delicate and fragile-l

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

The Cruise of the "Nonsuch" Buccaneer

By Harry Collingwood

________________________________________________________________________

An excellent book by this accomplished writer of nautical stories for

teenagers. The date is 1569. The young George St. Leger arrives back

from a cruise in the Bonaventure, owned locally in Plymouth, and shortly

after he and his mother are told that his brother has been captured by

the Spaniards, somewhere in the West Indies.

A friendly shipbuilder has a new vessel, the Nonsuch, almost ready to

sail, and he agrees with George that he will finance a voyage in search

of the brother, in return for half of the proceedings of the voyage, for

the Nonsuch has been designed as a fast-sailing buccaneer.

The crew are all local Devon men, so much of the dialogue in the book is

in a strong Devonian accent, still to be heard in the outlying districts

of that beautiful county.

They set off as soon as possible, knowing that the Government might well

requisition the Nonsuch. There are plenty of adventures and battles,

but eventually the brother is found, but in very dire straits, for he

might have died if found only a few minutes later.

There is an interesting and very revealing episode where we are shown

how the Spanish Inquisition worked.

Makes a very nice audiobook about eleven hours in length.

________________________________________________________________________

THE CRUISE OF THE "NONSUCH" BUCCANEER

BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD

CHAPTER ONE.

HOW GEORGE SAINT LEGER RETURNED FROM FOREIGN PARTS.

The time was mid-afternoon, the date was January the 9th, in the year of

our Lord 1569; and the good town of Plymouth was basking in the hazy

sunlight and mild temperature of one of those delightful days that

occasionally visit the metropolis of the West Country, even in mid-

winter, under the beneficent influence of the Gulf Stream combined with

a soft but enduring breeze from the south-south-east charged with warm

air from the Saharan desert and the Mediterranean.

So mild and genial was the weather that certain lads, imbued with that

spirit of lawlessness and adventure which seems inherent in the nature

of the young Briton, had conspired together to defy the authority of

their schoolmaster by playing truant from afternoon school and going to

bathe in Firestone Bay. And it was while these lads were dressing,

after revelling in their stolen enjoyment, that their attention was

attracted by the appearance of a tall ship gliding up the Sound before

the soft breathing of the languid breeze.

That she was a foreign-going ship was evident at a glance, first from

her size, and, secondly, from the whiteness of her canvas, bleached by

long exposure to a southern sun; and as she drew nearer, the display of

flags and pennons which she made, and the sounds of trumpet, fife,

hautboy, and drum which floated down the wind from her seemed to

indicate that her captain regarded his safe arrival in English waters as

something in the nature of a triumph.

By the time that she had arrived abreast of Picklecombe Point the

bathers had completely resumed their clothing and, having climbed to the

highest point within easy reach, now stood interestedly watching the

slow approach of the ship, her progress under the impulse of the gentle

breeze being greatly retarded by the ebb tide. Speculation was rife

among the little group of boys upon the question of the ship's identity,

some maintaining that she must necessarily be a Plymouther, otherwise

what was she doing there, while others, for no very clearly denned

reason, expressed the contrary opinion.

At length one of the party who had been intently regarding the craft for

several minutes, suddenly flung his cap into the air, caught it as it

fell, and exclaimed excitedly as he replaced it on his head:

"I know her, I du; 'tis my Uncle Marshall's _Bonaventure_, whoam from

the Mediterranean and Spain; I'm off to tell my uncle. 'Twas only

yesterday that I heard him say he'd give a noble to know that the

_Bonaventure_ had escaped the Spaniards; and a noble will pay me well

for the flogging that I shall get from old Sir John, if Uncle Richard

tells him that I played truant to go bathing. But I don't believe he

will; he'll be so mighty pleased to hear about the _Bonaventure_ that

he'll forget to ask how I come to be to Firestone Bay instead of to

schule."

And the exultant lad dashed away toward Stonehouse, accompanied by his

companions, each of whom was instantly ready to help with suggestions as

to the spending of the prospective noble.

The historian of the period has omitted to record whether that worthy,

Mr Richard Marshall, one of the most thriving merchants of Plymouth,

was as good as his word in the matter of the promised noble; but

probably he was, for shortly after the arrival of his nephew with the

momentous news, the good man emerged from his house, smiling and rubbing

his hands with satisfaction, and made the best of his way to the wharf

in Stonehouse Pool, alongside which he knew that the _Bonaventure_ would

moor, and was there speedily joined by quite a little crowd of other

people who were all more or less intimately interested in the ship and

her crew, and who had been brought to the spot by the rapid spread of

the news that the _Bonaventure_ was approaching.

To the impatient watchers it seemed an age before the ship hove in sight

at the mouth of the Pool. At length, however, as the sun dipped behind

the wooded slopes across the water toward Millbrook, a ship's spritsail

and sprit topsail, with a long pennon streaming from the head of the

mast which supported the latter, crept slowly into view beyond Devil's

Point, to the accompaniment of a general shout of "There a be!" from the

waiting crowd, and a minute later the entire ship stood revealed,

heading up the Pool under all sail, to the impulse of the dying breeze

which was by this time so faint that the white canvas of the approaching

craft scarcely strained at all upon its sheets and yards.

For the period, the _Bonaventure_ was a ship of considerable size, her

registered measurement being one hundred and twenty-seven tons. She was

practically new, the voyage which she was now completing being only her

second. Like other ships of her size and time, she was very beamy, with

rounded sides that tumbled home to a degree that in these days would be

regarded as preposterous. She carried the usual fore and after castles,

the latter surmounting the after extremity of her lofty poop. She was

rigged with three masts in addition to the short spar which reared

itself from the outer extremity of her bowsprit, and upon which the

sprit topsail was set, the fore and main masts spreading courses,

topsails, and--what was then quite an innovation--topgallant sails,

while the mizen spread a lateen-shaped sail stretched along a sloping

yard suspended just beneath the top, in the position occupied in these

days by the cross-jack. She was armed with twenty-two cannon of various

sizes and descriptions, and she mustered a crew of fifty-six men and

boys, all told. Her hull was painted a rich orange-brown colour down to

a little above the water-line, beneath which ran a narrow black stripe

right round her hull, dividing the brown colour of her topsides from her

white-painted bottom which, by the way, was now almost hidden by a rank

growth of green weed. She carried one large poop lantern, and displayed

from her flagstaff the red cross of Saint George, while from her fore

and main topgallant-mastheads, from the peak of her mizen, and from the

head of her sprit-topmast lazily waved other flags and pennons. As she

swung into view round Devil's Point the blare of trumpets and the roll

of drums reached the ears of the crowd which awaited her arrival; but

these sounds presently ceased as her crew proceeded to brail up and furl

sail after sail; and some ten minutes later, scarcely stemming the

outgoing tide, she drifted slowly in toward her berth alongside the

wharf. Ropes were thrown, great hawsers were hauled ashore and made

fast to sturdy bollards, fenders were dropped overside, and the

_Bonaventure_ was very smartly secured abreast the warehouse which was

destined to receive her cargo.

Then, when the ship had been securely moored, fore and aft, her gangway

was thrown open, a gang-plank was run out from the deck to the wharf,

and Mr Richard Marshall, her owner, stepped on board and advanced with

outstretched hand toward a short, stout, grey-haired man who had

hitherto occupied a conspicuous position on the poop, but who now

descended the poop ladder with some difficulty and hobbled towards the

gangway.

The contrast between the two men was great in every way, except perhaps

in the matter of age, for both were on the shady side of fifty; but

while one of them, Mr Richard Marshall, merchant and shipowner, to wit,

was still hale and hearty, carrying himself as straight and upright as

though he were still in the prime of early manhood, the other, who was

none other than John Burroughs, the captain of the _Bonaventure_, moved

stiffly and limped painfully as a result of many wounds received during

his forty years of seafaring life, coupled with a rapidly increasing

tendency to suffer from severe attacks of rheumatism. And they differed

in dress as greatly as in their personal appearance; for while the

merchant was soberly if not somewhat sombrely garbed in dark brown

broadcloth, with a soft, broad-brimmed felt hat to match, the captain

(in rank defiance of the sumptuary laws then existing) sported trunk

hosen of pale pink satin, a richly embroidered and padded satin doublet

of the same hue, confined at the waist by a belt of green satin heavily

broidered with gold thread, from which depended on one side a long

rapier and on the other a wicked-looking Venetian dagger with jewelled

hilt and sheath, while, surmounting his grizzled and rather scanty

locks, he wore, jauntily set on one side, a Venetian cap of green velvet

adorned with a large gold and cameo brooch which secured a long green

feather drooping gracefully over the wearer's left shoulder. But let

not the unsophisticated reader imagine, in the innocence of his heart,

that the garb above described was that usually affected by mariners of

the Elizabethan period, while at sea. It was not. But they frequently

displayed a weakness for showy dress while in port, and especially when

about to go ashore for the first time after the termination of a voyage.

"Welcome home again, Cap'n John," exclaimed Marshall, grasping the hand

of the sailor and wringing it so heartily that poor Burroughs winced at

the pain of his rheumatism-racked wrist and shoulder. "I am glad to see

you safely back, for I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy lest the King

of Spain had caught you in his embargo."

"Iss, fegs; and so mun very nearly did," answered the captain; "indeed,

if it hadn't ha' been for young Garge Saint Leger--who, bein' out of his

time, I've made pilot in place of poor Matthews, who was killed in a

bout wi' the Barbary rovers on our outward voyage--he'd ha' had us, sure

as pigs baint nightingales. But Garge have got the fiend's own gift for

tongues and languages, and the night avore we sailed he happened to be

ashore lookin' round Santander, and while he were standin' on one side

of a pillar in a church he heard two Spanishers on t'other side of that

there same pillar talkin' about the embargo that King Philip was goin'

to declare again' the English at midnight that very night as ever was.

Like a good boy, Garge waited until the two Spanishers had left the

church, and then comed straight down aboard and told me what he'd heard.

At first I didn't put very much faith in the yarn, I'll own to't, but

that there Garge so pestered and worrited me that at last I let mun have

mun's way; and ten minutes afore midnight the _Bonaventure_ was under

way and standin' out o' the harbour. We managed to get out without

bein' fired upon by the batteries. But if you'll believe me, sir, they

sent a galley out a'ter us, and if it hadn't ha' happened that the wind

was blowin' fresh from about west, and a nasty lump of a beam sea

runnin', dang my ugly buttons if that galley wouldn't ha' had us! But

the galley rolled so heavy that they couldn't use their oars to

advantage, while the _Bonaventure_ is so fast as any dolphin with a beam

wind and enough of it to make us furl our topgallants; so we got away."

"And a very smart piece of work, too, apparently," said Mr Marshall.

"I must not forget to thank George Saint Leger for his share in it. Has

your voyage been a success, Captain?"

"So, so; I don't think you'll find much to complain about when we comes

to go into the figures," answered Burroughs. "We had a bit of a brush

wi' the rovers, who comed out against us in three ships, during our

outward voyage, but we beat 'em off wi' the loss of only one man--poor

Matthews, as I mentioned just now--since when we've had no call to fire

a single shot."

"Excellent, excellent!" commented the merchant, rubbing his hands. "Of

course I am very sorry to learn that Matthews was slain; but these

things will happen at sea from time to time. Well, to-morrow we will

have the hatches off and begin discharging. While that is proceeding I

must consider what next to do with the ship; for it will be useless to

think of further trade with the Mediterranean while the Spanish embargo

lasts, and Heaven only knows how long that will be."

"Ay," assented Burroughs. "'Tis a pity that her Grace up to Whitehall

can't make up her mind one way or t'other about this here Spanish

business; whether she'll be friends wi' Philip, or will fight mun. For

all this here shilly-shallyin', first one way and then t'other, be

terrible upsettin' to folks like we. But there, what be I grumblin'

about? 'Twont make a mort o' difference to me, because I've made up my

mind as it's time for me to knock off the sea and settle down snug and

comfortable ashore for the rest of my days. I be that bad wi' the

rheumatics that I've got to get the cabin boy to help me put on my

clothes, and when there be a sea runnin' and the ship do roll a bit I

can't sleep for the pain in my j'ints. So, Mr Marshall, I may 's well

give 'e notice, here and now, so's you'll ha' plenty of time to look

about 'e for another cap'n."

"Dear me, dear me! I am very sorry to hear that, Cap'n," exclaimed Mr

Marshall. "But," he continued, "ever since the declaration of the

embargo I have been thinking what I would do with the _Bonaventure_ in

the event of her escaping from the Spaniards, and I had almost decided

to lay her up until the dispute is settled one way or the other. Now if

you stay ashore until that time arrives, and take care of yourself,

perhaps you will find yourself quite able to take command of her again

when she next goes to sea."

"No," asserted Burroughs decisively; "I ha' made up my mind, and I'll

stick to it. The sea's no place for a man afflicted as I be. Besides,

I ha' done very well in the matter o' they private ventures that you've

allowed me to engage in; there's a very tidy sum o' money standin' to my

credit in Exeter Bank, and there's neither chick nor child to use it

a'ter I be gone, so I might so well enjoy it and be comfortable for the

rest o' my days, and at the same time make way for a younger man. Now,

there be Garge," he continued, lowering his tone. "'Tis true that he be

but a lad; but he'm a sailor to the tips of his fingers; he'm so good a

seaman and navigator as I be; he've a-got coolness and courage when they

be most needed; he knoweth how to handle a crew; he've got the gift of

tongues; and--he'm a gentleman, which is a danged sight more than I be.

You might do a mort worse, Mr Marshall, than give he the _Bonaventure_

when next you sends her to sea."

"H'm! do you really think so?" returned the merchant. "He is very

young, you know, Captain; too young, I think, to bear the responsibility

attending the command of such a ship as the _Bonaventure_. But--well, I

will think it over. Your recommendation of course will carry very great

weight with me."

"Ay, and so't ought to," retorted the blunt-spoken old skipper. "I've

served you now a matter of over thirty years, and you've never yet had

to find fault wi' my judgment. And you won't find it wrong either in

that there matter o' Garge."

After which the subject was dropped, and the pair proceeded to the

discussion of various matters which have no bearing upon the present

history.

Meanwhile, during the progress of the above-recorded conversation, the

crew, having completed the mooring of the ship, proceeded to furl the

sails which had been merely hauled down or clewed up as the craft

approached the wharf; and when this job had been performed to the

satisfaction of a tall, strapping young fellow who stood upon the poop

supervising operations, the mariners laid down from aloft and, the

business of the ship being over for the day, were dismissed from duty.

As every man aboard the _Bonaventure_ happened to call Plymouth "home,"

this meant on their part a general swarming ashore to join the relatives

and friends who patiently awaited them on the wharf; whereupon the

little crowd quickly melted away.

Then, and not until then, the tall, strapping young fellow upon the

poop--familiarly referred to by Captain Burroughs as "Garge," and

henceforth to be known to us as George Saint Leger and the hero of the

moving story which the writer proposes to set forth in the following

pages--descended to the main deck, uttered a word or two of greeting and

caution to the two sturdy ship-keepers who had already come on board to

take care of ship and cargo during the absence of the crew, and with

quick, springy step, strode to the gang-plank, and so to the wharf,

whither the captain, in Mr Marshall's company, had preceded him.

As he strode along the wharf, with that slight suggestion of a roll in

his gait which marks the man whose feet have been long accustomed to the

feel of a heaving deck, he cast a quick, eager, recognising glance at

the varied features of the scene around him, his somewhat striking

countenance lighting up as he noted the familiar details of the long

line of quaint warehouses which bordered the wharf, the coasters which

were moored ahead and astern of the _Bonaventure_, the fishing craft

grounded upon the mud higher up the creek, the well remembered houses of

various friends dotted about here and there, the heights of Mount

Edgcumbe shadowy and mysterious in the deepening twilight, and the

slopes of Mount Wise across the water; and a joyous smile irradiated his

features as his gaze settled upon a small but elegant cottage, of the

kind now known as a bungalow, standing in the midst of a large,

beautifully kept garden, situated upon the very extremity of the Mount

and commanding an uninterrupted view of the Sound. For in that cottage,

from three windows of which beamed welcoming lights, he knew that his

mother, and perchance his elder brother Hubert, awaited his coming. For

a moment he paused, gazing lovingly at the lights, then, striding on

again, he quickly reached the end of the wharf and, hurrying down the

ferry steps, sprang into a boat which he found lying alongside.

"So you'm back again all safe, Mr Garge, sir," exclaimed the occupant

of the boat as he threw out an oar to bear the craft off from the wharf

wall, while young Saint Leger seated himself in the stern sheets. "I

been here waitin' for 'e for the last hour or more. The mistress seed

the ship a comin' in, and knowed her, and her says to me--`Tom, the

_Bonaventure_ be whoam again. Now, you go down and take the boat and go

across to the wharf, for Master Garge 'll be in a hurry to come over,

and maybe the wherry won't be there just when he's ready to come; so you

go over and wait for un.' And here I be. Welcome home again, sir."

"Thanks, Tom," answered Saint Leger, "I did not recognise you for the

moment. And how is my mother?"

"She's just about as well as can be reasonably expected, sir,

considerin' the way that she's been worritin' about you and Mr

Hubert--'specially 'bout you, sir, since the news of the King of Spain's

embargo have been made known," answered the man Tom, who was in fact the

gardener and general handy man at The Nest, as Mrs Saint Leger's

cottage was named.

"Poor dear soul," murmured George; "she will fret herself to death over

Hu and me, before all's done, I am afraid. So Captain Hawkins has not

yet returned, Tom?"

"Not yet a bain't, sir. But he've only been gone a matter o' fifteen

months; and 'tis only a year since mun sailed from the Guinea coast for

the Indies, so 'tis a bit early yet to be expectin' mun back. When he

and Franky Drake du get over there a spoilin' the Egyptians, as one

might say, there be no knowin' how long they'll stay there. I don't

look to see 'em back till they'm able to come wi' their ships loaded wi'

Spanish gould; and it'll take a mort o' time to vind six shiploads o'

gould," returned Tom.

"And has no news of the expedition been received since its arrival on

the Spanish Main?" asked George.

"Not as I've heard of, sir," answered Tom. "The last news of 'em was

that they'd sailed from the Guinea coast some time about the end of

January; and how that comed I don't know. But I expect 'tis true,

because Madam got it from Madam Hawkins, who comed over expressly to

tell her."

"Ah, well, I suppose we shall hear in God's good time," commented

George. "Back water with your starboard oar, Tom, and pull larboard, or

you'll smash in the bows of the boat against the steps. So! way enough.

Haul her to and let me get out. If I am not mistaken there is my

mother waiting for me under the verandah. Thanks! Good night, Tom, and

put that in your pocket for luck."

So saying the young man handed Tom a ducat, and sprang out of the boat,

up the landing steps, and made his way rapidly up the steep garden path

toward the house, beneath the verandah of which a female figure could be

dimly seen by the sheen of the lighted windows. As George Saint Leger

neared the brow of the slope upon which The Nest was built, this same

female figure ran down the verandah steps to meet him, and a moment

later he and his mother were locked in each other's arms.

"My boy, my boy!" crooned Mrs Saint Leger as she nestled in her son's

embrace and tiptoed up to kiss the lips that sought her own--"welcome

home again, a thousand welcomes! I saw the ship while she was yet

outside Saint Nicholas Island and, with the help of the perspective

glass that you brought me from Genoa, was able to recognise her as the

_Bonaventure_. And later, when she rounded the point and entered the

Pool, I saw you standing beside Captain Burroughs on the poop, and so

knew that all was well with you. Come in, my dear, and let me look at

you. Supper is all ready and waiting, and there is a fine big coal fire

blazing in the dining-room, for I knew you would feel the air chilly

after that of the Mediterranean."

A moment later the pair entered the warm, cosy dining-room, and stood

intently regarding each other by the light of a candelabrum which

occupied the centre of the handsomely appointed table. And while they

stand thus, with their hands upon each other's shoulders, each

scrutinising the face of the other, we may seize the opportunity to make

the acquaintance of both; for with one of them at least we purpose to

participate in many a strange scene and stirring adventure in those

western Indies, the wonders and fabulous wealth of which were just

beginning to be made known to Englishmen through that redoubtable rover

and slaver, Captain John Hawkins.

Mrs Saint Leger was a small, somewhat delicate and fragile-looking

woman, just turned forty-six years of age, yet, although people seemed

to age a great deal more quickly in those days than in these, and

although, as the widow of one sailor and the mother of two others, she

had known much anxiety and mental stress, she retained her youthful

appearance to a degree that was a constant source of wonder to her many

friends. Her form was still as girlish as when Hugh Saint Leger proudly

led her to the altar twenty-eight years before we make her acquaintance.

Her cheeks were still smooth and round, her violet eyes, deep and

tender, were still bright despite the many tears which anxiety for her

husband and sons had caused her to shed, and which her bitter grief had

evoked when, some seven years earlier, the news had been brought to her

of her husband's death while gallantly defending his ship against an

attack by Salee pirates. Her golden-brown hair was still richly

luxuriant, and only the most rigorous search would have revealed the

presence of a silver thread here and there. And lastly, she stood just

five feet four inches in her high-heeled shoes, and--in honour of her

younger son's safe arrival home--was garbed, in the height of the

prevailing mode, in a gown of brown velvet that exactly matched the

colour of her hair, with long pointed bodice heavily embroidered with

gold thread, voluminous farthingale, long puffed sleeves, ruffed lace

collar, lace stomacher, and lace ruffles at her dainty wrists.

George Saint Leger, aged twenty, stood five feet ten inches in his

stockings, though he did not look anything like that height, so broad

were his shoulders and so robustly built was his frame. He had not yet

nearly attained to his full growth, and promised, if he went on as he

was going, to become a veritable giant some five or six years hence. He

had his mother's eyes and hair--the latter growing in short soft

ringlets all over his head--and he inherited a fair share also of his

mother's beauty, although in his case it was tempered and made manly by

a very square chin, firm, close-set lips, and a certain suggestion of

sternness and even fierceness in the steady intent gaze of the eyes. He

was garbed, like his captain, in doublet, trunk hose, and cap, but in

George's case the garments were made of good serviceable cloth, dyed a

deep indigo blue colour, and his cap--which he now held in his hand--was

unadorned with either feather or brooch. Also, he wore no weapons of

any kind save those with which nature had provided him.

"Egad! it is good to feel your arms round me, little mother, and to find

myself in this dear old room again," exclaimed the lad as he gazed down

into his mother's loving eyes. "And you--surely you must have

discovered the whereabout of the fount of perpetual youth, for you do

not look a day older than when I went away."

"Nonsense, silly boy," returned the delighted little lady as she freed

herself from her stalwart son's embrace, "art going to celebrate thy

return home by beginning to pay compliments to thy old mother? But,

indeed," she continued more seriously, "'tis a wonder that I am not

grey-headed, for the anxiety that I have suffered on thy account,

George, and that of thy brother Hubert, has scarcely suffered me to know

a moment's peace."

"Dear soul alive, I'll warrant that's true," agreed George. "But,

mother, you need never be anxious about me, for there's not a better or

stauncher ship afloat than the _Bonaventure_, nor one that carries a

finer captain and crew. We've held our own in many a stiff bout with

weather and the enemy, and can do it again, please God. And as for Hu,

I think you need fear as little for him as for me, for with Hawkins as

admiral, and Frankie Drake as second in command, with six good ships to

back them up, they should be able to sweep the Spanish Main from end to

end. It cannot now be very long before one gets news of them, and

indeed, I confidently look forward to seeing them come sailing into

Plymouth Sound ere long, loaded down with treasure."

"God grant that it may be so," responded Mrs Saint Leger. "Yet how can

I help being fearful and anxious when I think of those daring men

thousands of miles away from home and kindred, surrounded as it were by

enemies, and with nought to keep them but their courage and the strength

of their own right arm? And where there is fighting--as fighting there

must be when English and Spaniards come face to face--some must be

slain, and why not our Hubert among them? For the boy is hot-headed,

and brave even to recklessness."

"Ay," assented George, "that's true. But 'tis the brave and reckless

ones that stand the best chance in a fight, for their very courage doth

but inspire the enemy with terror, so that he turns and flees from them.

Besides, our lads are fighting God's battle against bigotry, idolatry,

and fiendish cruelty as exemplified in the tortures inflicted upon poor

souls in the hellish Inquisition, and 'twould be sinful and a

questioning of God's goodness to doubt that He will watch over them who

are waging war upon His enemies."

"Yea, indeed, that is true," agreed Mrs Saint Leger. "And yet, so weak

is our poor human faith that there are times when my heart is sick with

fear as to what may be happening to my dear ones. But here is Lucy with

the supper. Draw up and sit down, my son. I'll warrant that the

enjoyment of a good roast capon and ale of thy mother's own brewing will

be none the less for the sea fare upon which thou hast lived of late."

So mother and son sat down to table again for the first time in many

months. And while they ate George regaled his mother with a recital of

some of the most moving happenings of the voyage just ended, including,

naturally, a detailed account of the brush with Barbary pirates, the

death of Matthews, the pilot, and George's own promotion to the post

thus rendered vacant; to all of which Mrs Saint Leger listened eagerly,

devouring her son with her eyes as he made play with capon and pasty and

good nut-brown ale, talking betwixt mouthfuls and eliciting from his

absorbed audience of one, now a little exclamation of horror at the tale

of some tragic occurrence or narrow escape, and anon a hearty laugh at

the recounting of some boyish frolic and escapade in one or another of

the foreign cities visited in the course of the voyage. Supper over,

they drew their chairs up before the fire and continued their talk,

asking and answering questions in that delightfully inconsequent fashion

which is possible only between near and dear relatives after a long

separation. So the time passed quickly until the hour-glass in the hall

marked ten and the maid brought in candles; whereupon, before separating

for the night, mother and son knelt down together and rendered heartfelt

thanks to God for the safe return of the one wanderer and offered up

equally heartfelt petitions for the preservation of the other, as folk

were not ashamed to do in those grand old days when belief in God's

interest in the welfare of His creatures was a living, virile thing, and

when a man's religion was as intimate a part of his daily life as were

his meat and drink.

CHAPTER TWO.

HOW ROBERT DYER BROUGHT NEWS OF DISASTER.

The following morning found George Saint Leger early astir; for the

unloading of the _Bonaventure's_ rich cargo was now to begin, and he

must be there to superintend and do his share of the work. And be sure

that Mr Richard Marshall and his head clerk were also there to take

note of each bale and cask and package as it was hoisted out of the hold

and carried across the wharf into the yawning doorway of the warehouse;

for while the worthy merchant fully trusted those of his servants who

had proved themselves to be trustworthy, he held that there was no

method of keeping trustworthy servants faithful so efficacious as

personal oversight; he maintained that the man who tempted another to

dishonesty by throwing opportunities for dishonesty in his way, was as

guilty and as much to blame as the one who succumbed to temptation;

therefore he kept his own soul and the souls of his employes clean by

affording the latter as little occasion as might be for stumbling.

Captain Burroughs--his rheumatism more troublesome than ever--was also

present, with his hands full of invoices and bills of lading to which he

referred from time to time for information in reply to some question

from Mr Marshall; and soon the winches began to creak and the main

hatch to disgorge its contents, while a crowd of those curious and idle

loafers who, like the poor, are always with us, quickly gathered upon

the wharf to gapingly watch the process of unloading the cargo.

That process was much more deliberately carried out then than it is in

the present day of hurry and rush, steam and electricity; therefore it

was not until nearly a fortnight had elapsed that the last bale had been

hoisted out of the _Bonaventure's_ hold and safely stored in Mr

Marshall's warehouse. Mr Marshall had definitely announced his

intention to lay up the ship until the Spanish embargo should be raised.

And it was on that same night that, as George and his mother sat

chatting by the fire after supper, the maid Lucy entered the room with

the intimation that a strange, foreign-looking man, apparently a sailor,

stood without, craving speech with Mistress Saint Leger.

Mrs Saint Leger's apprehensions with regard to the safety of Hubert,

her elder son, temporarily allayed by George's optimism, were quick to

respond to the slightest hint or suggestion of disaster; the mere

mention, therefore, of a man, foreign-looking and of sailorly aspect,

seeking speech with her, and especially at such an untimely hour, was

sufficient to re-awaken all her unformed fears into full activity. Her

lips blanched and a look of terror leapt into her eyes as she sprang to

her feet, regarding the somewhat stolid Lucy as though the latter were

some apparition of ill omen.

"A sailor, say you, strange, and foreign-looking?" she gasped. "What

for mercy's sake can such a man want with me at this time of night? Did

you ask the man his name?"

"No, ma'am, I--I--didn't," stammered the maid, astonished at her

mistress's unusual agitation, and afraid that in omitting to make the

enquiry she had been guilty of some terrible oversight; "he said--he--"

But at this point George intervened. To him, as to his mother, the

circumstance had at once conveyed a suggestion of ominousness, a hint of

possible evil tidings. Like his mother, he had risen to his feet as the

thought of what this visit might mean dawned upon him. But, unlike Mrs

Saint Leger, he was accustomed to act quickly in the presence of sudden

alarms, and now he laid his hand reassuringly upon his mother's

shoulder, as he said soothingly:

"There, there, sit you down, mother; there's nought to be frightened

about, I'll warrant. Sit you down, again; and I'll go out and speak to

the fellow. Maybe 'tis but some sneaking, snivelling beggar-man who,

believing you to be alone here, hopes to terrify you into giving him a

substantial alms."

So saying, with another reassuring pat upon his mother's shoulder, the

lad stalked out of the room, pushing the bewildered maid before him, and

made his way to the front door, where Mrs Saint Leger, acutely

listening, presently heard him in low converse with the stranger. The

conversation continued for a full ten minutes, and then Mrs Saint

Leger's apprehensions were sharpened by hearing footsteps--her son's and

another's--approaching the room in which she sat. A moment later the

door was flung open, and George, pale beneath his tan, re-appeared,

ushering in a thick-set, broadly-built man of medium height, whose long,

unkempt hair and beard, famine-sharpened features, and ragged clothing

told an unmistakable tale of privation and suffering.

"Mother," said George--and as he spoke his lips quivered slightly in

spite of his utmost efforts to keep them steady--"this man is Robert

Dyer of Cawsand, one of the crew of the _Judith_, Captain Drake's ship,

just arrived from the Indies, and he brings us bad news--not the worst,

thank God," he interjected hurriedly as he noted Mrs Saint Leger's

sudden access of pallor--"but bad enough for all that, and it is

necessary that you should hear it. The expedition has been a failure,

thanks to Spanish treachery; the loss to the English has been terribly

heavy, and several of the men are missing."

For a few moments the poor distracted mother strove vainly to speak;

then, clutching George's arm tightly, she moaned: "Well, why do you

pause, George? Tell me the worst, I pray you. I can bear it. Do not

keep me in suspense. Do you wish me to understand that Hubert is

killed--or is he among the missing? He must be one or the other, I

know, or he would be here now to tell his own story."

"He is a prisoner in the hands of the Spaniards, mother," answered

George. "But be of good cheer," he continued, as Mrs Saint Leger

staggered like one struck and he sprang to her assistance--"sit you

down, mother, and let Dyer here tell us his story. I have only just

heard the barest outline of it. Perhaps when we have heard it all it

may not seem so bad. And don't you fear for Hubert, dearie; 'tis true

that the Spaniards have got him, but they won't dare to hurt him, be you

assured of that; and likely enough he will have escaped by this time.

Now, Dyer, come to an anchor, man, and tell us all that befell. And

while you're talking we'll have some supper prepared for you."

"Well, madam, and Mr Garge, there ain't so very much to tell," answered

Dyer, seating himself in the chair which Saint Leger had indicated. "Of

course you do both know--all Plymouth knows--that we sailed away from

this very port a year ago come the second o' last October. Six ships

strong, we was, well manned, and an abundance o' munitions o' war of

every kind, even to shore-artillery. And we had Cap'n John Hawkins for

our admiral and Frank Drake for our pilot, so what more could a body

want?

"We made a very good passage to the Canary Islands, which was our first

rondyvoo; and from there, a'ter we'd wooded and watered afresh, and set

up our rigging, we sailed for the Guinea coast. On our way there, avore

ever we got so far south as Cape Blanc, we captured a Portingal caravel;

pickin' up another of 'em a little way to the nor'ard of Cape Verde.

This here last one was called the _Grace a Dios_, she were a very fine

new ship of a hunderd and fifty ton--and we kept 'em both because, bein'

light-draught ships, the admiral knowed they'd be useful for goin' in

over bar on the Coast, where the mouths of the rivers be always shallow.

"Well, in due time--I forget the exact date, now--we arrived on the

Coast, and there we stayed for a matter o' three months, huntin' blacks

and Portingals; goin' into the rivers in the caravels, landin' parties,

attackin' native villages, and makin' prisoners o' all the strongest and

most likely-lookin' men and women--with a good sprinklin' o' childer,

too--and cuttin' out the Portingal caravels wherever we found 'em. Ah!

that work o' boardin' and cuttin' out the Portingals! It was fine and

excitin', and suited Cap'n Drake and Mr Saint Leger a sight better than

nagur huntin'. They was always the first to come forward for such work,

and never was two men so happy as they was when news was brought of a

caravel bein' near at hand.

"Three months we stayed on that there terrible Guinea coast, and durin'

that time we got together over five hunderd nagurs, besides takin',

plunderin', and burnin' more than a dozen caravels. Then, wi' pretty

nigh half of our company down wi' fevers and calentures taken on the

Coast and in the rivers, we all sailed for the Spanish Main. A matter

o' seven weeks it took us to cross to t'other side o' the world,

although we had fair winds and fine weather all the way, as is usual on

the voyage from Africa to the Indies. Then we arrived at a lovely

island called Margarita, one o' the Spaniards' Indian possessions, where

I was told they find pearls. Here we found several storehouses crammed

with food of all sorts and great casks o' wine intended for distribution

among the ports of the Spanish Main; and here our admiral decided to re-

victual the fleet. And mun did, too, in spite of the objections o' the

Spaniards, who vowed that they had no food to spare. We took from 'em

all that we wanted, but we paid for it in good Portingal goold, seein'

that we was no pirates, but good honest traders.

"Then we sailed westward again, past La Guaira and the great wall of

mountains that tower aloft behind it far into the deep blue sky. On the

third day after leavin' Margarita we sailed into as snug a little

harbour as you'd wish to see. And there we stayed for a matter o' two

months, landin' our sick and our blacks, clearin' out our ships' holds,

cleanin', careenin', scrapin', paintin', overhaulin', and refittin'

generally, the blacks helpin' us willin'ly enough when we made 'em

understand what we wanted done.

"By the time that we'd a done everything that we wanted to, our sick had

got well again--all except four what died in spite of us--and then we

put to sea again, coastin' along the Main and callin' in here and there

to trade our blacks for goold and pearls. But at first the trade

weren't at all good; and bimeby the admiral lost patience wi' the silly

fules and vowed he'd make 'em trade wi' us, whether they wanted to or

no; so we in the _Judith_ and another ship were sent round to a place

called La Hacha. When we arrived and made to enter, the forts opened

fire upon us! So we and t'other ship blockaded the place for five days,

sufferin' nothin' to go in or come out; and then along come the admiral

wi' the rest o' the ships, and we got to work in earnest. The shore-

artillery and two hunderd soldiers was landed, the batteries was

stormed, and we took the town, drivin' all the Spaniards out of it; and

be sure that Cap'n Drake and Mr Saint Leger was among the first to get

inside. That was enough for they Spanishers; a'ter that they was ready

enough to trade wi' us; and indeed that same night some of 'em comed

back, bringin' their goold and their pearls with 'em; and avore we left

the place we'd parted wi' no less than two hunderd blacks.

"And so things went on until we'd a sold every black that remained; and

by that time we'd got so much goold and so many pearls that the admiral

was afeard that if we tried to get more we mid lose all, and

accordin'ly, a'ter holdin' a council o' war, it was decided to make for

whoam, and we bore away up north to get into the Gulf Stream to help us

to beat up again' the easterly winds that do blow always in them parts.

But, as it turned out, we couldn't ha' done a worse thing. For we'd no

sooner weathered Cape Yucatan than there fell upon us two o' the most

awful gales that mortal man can pictur', pretty nigh all our canvas was

blowed clean out of the bolt-ropes, some o' the ships was dismasted, the

sea--well, I don't know what I can compare it to, unless 'tis to

mountains, it runned so high; and as for the poor little _Judith_, 'twas

only by the mercy o' God and Cap'n Drake's fine seamanship that she

didn't go straight to the bottom. By the time that them there

hurricanes was over the ships was not much better nor wrecks, and 'twas

useless to think o' makin' the v'yage home in 'em in that condition, so

our admiral made the signal to bear up and run for San Juan de Ulua.

And when we arrived there, if you'll believe me, madam and Mr Garge, we

found no less than twelve big galleons, loaded wi' goold an' silver,

waitin' for the rest o' the Plate fleet and its convoy to sail for Old

Spain! And the very next day the ships as was expected arrived off the

port and found us English in possession!

"Then there was a pretty to-do, you may take my word for 't. Some o'

the cap'ns--Mr Saint Leger and Cap'n Drake among 'em, I believe--was

for attackin' the convoy and takin' the whole o' the Plate fleet; and,

as things turned out, 'twould ha' been better if we'd done it, for,

disabled though our ships were, we could ha' fought at our anchors and

kept the convoy from enterin' the port. But the admiral wouldn't hear

o' it; he kept on declarin' that we was honest traders, and that to

capture the Spanish ships 'd be a hact of piracy which would get us into

no end o' trouble to home, and perhaps bring about war betwixt England

and Spain; and at last t'others give in to mun and let mun have mun's

own way. Then there was goin's to an' fro between our ships and the

shore, and I heard say as that the admiral were negotiatin' wi' the

Viceroy for permission for our ships to stay where they was, and refit;

and at last 'twas agreed that we was to be allowed to so do, provided

that we didn't interfere wi' the Spanish ships.

"That bein' arranged, the rest of the Plate fleet and the convoy sailed

into the harbour and anchored, while we English got to work clearin'

away our wrecked spars, sendin' down yards, and what not. The _Judith_

bein' a small ship, Cap'n Drake took her in and moored her alongside a

wharf upon which we stowed part of our stores and water casks, so 's to

have more room for movin' about on deck; but as for the rest, they'd to

do the best they could while lyin' off to their anchors. And one of the

first things that we did was to transfer all the goold and pearls that

we'd collected to the _Jesus_. Three days we laboured hard at the work

of refittin', and then, when most o' our biggest ships was so completely

dismantled that they hadn't a spar aloft upon which to set a sail, them

treacherous Spaniards, carin' nothin' for their solemn word and

promises, must needs attack us, openin' fire upon us both from the ships

and the forts, while a party o' soldiers came marchin' down to the wharf

especially to attack us of the _Judith's_ crew. When Cap'n Drake see'd

mun comin' he at once ordered all hands ashore; and while he and Mr

Saint Leger and a few more did their best to keep off the soldiers, the

rest of us went to work to put the provisions and water back aboard the

_Judith_. But we'd only about half done our work when a lot more

soldiers comed swarmin' down, and Cap'n Drake sings out for everybody to

get aboard and to cast off the hawsers--for by this time there was nigh

upon five hunderd Spaniards attackin' us, and we could do nothin' again

so many. Seein' so many soldiers comin' again us, some of our chaps got

a bit frighted and took the cap'n at his word by castin' off our shore

fasts at once, without waitin' for everybody to get aboard first. The

consequence was that when all the hawsers had been let go exceptin' the

quarter rope--which I was tendin' to--the Cap'n, Mr Saint Leger, and

about half a dozen more was still on the wharf while--an off-shore wind

happenin' to be blowin' at the time--the ship's head had paid off until

'twas pointing out to sea, while there was about a couple o' fathoms of

space atween the ship's quarter and the wharf. I s'pose that seein'

this, and that there was only a matter o' seven or eight men to oppose

'em, gived the Spaniards courage to make a rush at the Cap'n and his

party; anyway, that's what they did, and for about a couple o' minutes

there was a terrible fight on that wharf, in which three or four men

went down.

"The next thing I noticed, Mr Garge, were your brother layin' about mun

like a very Paladin, fightin' three big Spanish cavaliers single-handed,

and, while I watched, one of 'em aimed a dreadful blow at mun's head wi'

a heavy two-handed soord. Mr Hubert see'd the blow comin' and put up

his soord to guard the head of mun, but the soord broke off clean, close

to the hilt, and there were Mr Hubert disarmed. Then the three

Spaniards that was fightin' mun rushed in afore Mr Hubert could draw

his dagger, seized mun by the arms, and dragged mun away out o' the

fight. And while this were happenin' our Cap'n were so busy that I

don't believe he ever see'd that Mr Hubert were took prisoner. Then I

sang out to mun--`Cap'n Drake,' says I, `if you don't come aboard this

very minute,' says I, `the ship'll break adrift and go off and leave ye

behind.' The Cap'n took a look round, see'd that evrybody else but

hisself was either cut down or took prisoner, and, flinging his soord in

the face of a man that tried to stop mun, leaped clean off quay, seized

the hawser in 's hands as mun jumped, and come aboard that way, hand

over hand. Then I let go the hawser and jumped to the helm, and we

runned off among t'other ships, where we let go our anchor.