BARON CHAMPERNOUN.
It was on a certain sunny afternoon in early March, the year 1591. The
quays and wharfs around Sutton Pool were thronged with people--women in
bright-coloured gowns and snowy ruffs, gentlemen with plumed hats and
gaudy, flowing capes, yeomen and tradesmen in their more sober garments,
and noisy, boisterous apprentices. From the little casement windows of
the quaint gabled houses near by, many faces looked out upon the busy
scene below, and here and there a white kerchief was waved in farewell
to some soldier or seaman watching it from the heavily-laden boats that
were putting out into the harbour. For it was the day of the departure
of Lord Thomas Howard's squadron of war-ships on its treasure-hunting
expedition to the islands of the Azores. The ships' masts could be seen
with their white sails half-unfurled, and their pennants, ancients, and
banners fluttering gaily in the breeze that blew from off the land.
The crowd was thickest near to the landing-stairs, where a stream of
men--some wearing glittering morions and corselets, others wide seamen's
hats and long sea-cloaks, and each with a clanking sword by his
side--moved slowly towards the stone steps, where the boats were waiting
to convey them out to their respective ships.
Among them was old Jaoob Hartop. He carried his bundle of spare clothing
and a pair of heavy boots under his arm. His face looked fresher and
younger, his eyes were brighter, and his step was lighter than three
months before, when he had landed at this same place from on board the
_Pearl_. No one seemed to know him as he passed through the throng,
saving only a curly-headed boy, who pulled at his coat and cried:
"What, Master Hartop! Art going with the fleet then? Didst not tell us
that you had done with sea-faring for the rest of thy days?"
Jacob glanced at the urchin, and recognised him as one of the group of
children who had stood around him at the well in Modbury village the
morning after the robbery, to listen to his story of how Sir Francis
Drake had been wounded at Nombre de Dios.
"Ay, faith, I am going out with the fleet, friend Robin," he answered
cheerily, as he stopped at the boy's side. "A life on land hath but few
joys, I find, for a lonely old man, and I am minded to go out and see a
bit more of the world, and mayhap recover some of the great wealth that
you wot of--the wealth that went down in my golden galleon out yonder to
the west of Flores."
"Ah!" said the lad. "An I were old enough, 'tis not a little that would
keep me at home when such fine adventures are in store. I'd run away and
join one of the ships, even as Master Trollope hath done. His father
forbade him to have ought to do with the sea, and yesternight they had a
quarrel; but this morning Timothy hath packed up his bag and gone off."
"And, prithee, what ship hath the lad joined?" asked Jacob. "Hath he
gone on board the _Revenge_, think you?"
"Nay, that is just what his father would know," answered Robin Redfern.
"He hath been questioning everyone, but none can tell him. But 'tis not
likely he hath gone on board the _Revenge_, for on that ship Master
Oglander is sailing, and you may be sure that Timothy Trollope would
avoid such companionship after what hath happened."
Jacob Hartop's jaw dropped. A look of dismay came into his eyes.
"Heaven forfend!" quoth he gloomily. Then taking a corner of the boy's
collar in his fingers, and looking into his face, he added: "Say you
that Jasper Oglander hath gone aboard the _Revenge_?"
The boy looked puzzled, but presently, understanding the old man's
drift, he answered:
"Nay. I meant young Master Gilbert, and not his uncle."
"Then wherefore should Timothy Trollope avoid the same ship that his
young master is sailing upon?" questioned Hartop.
"For the reason that Master Gilbert is no longer his master; no, nor
even his friend," said Robin. "Some dispute--I know not what it may have
been--ended in Master Trollope being dismissed from Modbury Manor."
"That may well be," returned Jacob, "but it seemeth to me that Master
Timothy is surely of a quarrelsome disposition. Howbeit, he will be
speedily knocked into submission and obedience on board ship. As to
young Gilbert Oglander, I'll engage he's like all the rest of his
family--"
"See!" interrupted the lad admiringly, as he pointed towards the steps;
"see! yonder stands Master Gilbert even now. Certes! how brave he doth
look with his new morion and breast-piece!"
Hartop was forced onward by the moving throng, and presently he arrived
at the top of the steps. What kissing and handshaking and fond partings
were going on here! There were tears, too, in the women's eyes, for all
knew that there was fighting to be done, and that of the gallant
adventurers who were taking their leave, not all would come safely home
again. Jacob came shoulder to shoulder with Ambrose Pennington, whom he
had met once before at this same place. Ambrose was to be Sir Richard
Grenville's sailing-master on board of the _Revenge_, and he was now
bidding farewell to his aged mother.
"God speed thee, then!" sobbed the old woman as she clung to his hand.
"And mayst thou ever bear it in mind that 'tis our Queen and our country
that thou servest, and that 'tis thy duty to fight hard and bravely
whensoever there be Spaniards to be vanquished!"
"Ay, faith, I'll mind on it truly," answered Ambrose, kissing his
mother's wrinkled forehead. Then, catching a glimpse of Jacob Hartop, he
cried: "Ha, Master Hartop! How fare you, old friend? I have not seen
thee since our encounter with the Dons three nights ago. Didst get any
hurt, man?"
"Not I," answered Hartop as he began to descend the stone stairs. "No
hurt beyond the disappointment of hearing the rascals had escaped you.
Where think you they have sped to?"
"Spain, you may swear," returned Pennington, closely following him.
"'Tis the only land that will welcome such refuse."
"An that be so, there is yet a chance that we shall overhaul them,"
said Jacob with satisfaction, "for the _Pearl_ is but a laggard at
sailing. A herring-boat might outstrip her hand over hand, to say naught
of such well-found ships as these of my Lord Howard's."
Gilbert Oglander was stepping into one of the boats when Hartop and
Pennington got to the foot of the flight of stairs. He nodded in
greeting to the two men, and made room for them beside him in the
stern-sheets. Then, all being seated and the boat full, the man at the
bow pushed off, the oars were dipped, and amid the cheers of the crowd
on shore the little craft was steered out into the harbour.
In his boyish excitement at getting into the boat, Gilbert had not
observed that his uncle Jasper was standing at the end of the quay
quietly watching him. Gilbert had already bidden farewell to his uncle,
as indeed to all the household at Modbury Manor, some three hours
before, and he could not have expected that Jasper, even allowing for
the great affection he had heretofore shown for him, would have the
desire to wish yet a second farewell.
But in actual truth it was a far other errand than this that had brought
Jasper Oglander into the town so quickly upon his nephew's heels. It was
an errand which, had it been duly fulfilled, would have certainly
prevented Gilbert's departure from England. It was in fact with the
purpose of summoning the lad back to his home that Jasper had thus
hastened to the harbour.
And yet, strangely enough, he made not the smallest attempt to stop the
boat as it put out from the landing-stairs; nay, he even seemed anxious
that his nephew should not catch sight of him, for as the rowers pulled
past where he had stationed himself, he drew cautiously back into the
crowd. Apparently, therefore, it was in some way to Jasper's personal
advantage that Gilbert should be permitted to leave the country at this
particular time. So it accordingly befell that the lad was taken out to
his ship, and that he proceeded on his voyage in total ignorance of a
most important circumstance which directly concerned him.
When about noon that day Gilbert had mounted his horse to start for
Plymouth, all had been well with the family at Modbury Manor. He had
waved his hand in farewell to his grandfather, who had stood at the open
casement above the porch, and had embraced his mother and Drusilla, and
shaken hands with all the servants. Drusilla and his uncle Jasper had
accompanied him down the long avenue to the lodge gate, and thence he
had ridden off alone.
He had expected that his cousin Philip would be at the manor to bid him
farewell. Philip had been absent for two days, and, strangely enough, he
had given no reason for going away. None knew where he had gone
excepting his father, and Jasper, on being questioned, had merely stated
that the lad had had a mind to take an excursion into the country.
Nothing was guessed of the part that he had taken in the affray on
Polperro beach. Indeed, it seemed that Timothy Trollope alone knew this,
and as Timothy was no longer in service at Modbury Manor, no word of
Philip Oglander's connection with the escape of the Spanish prisoners of
war had yet been spoken.
Gilbert had been gone scarcely an hour when a messenger on horseback
arrived bearing a letter for my Lord Champernoun. The letter was
delivered into the aged baron's own hand in his private library. No one
was present when he opened and read it, but some minutes afterwards the
Lady Betty Oglander was passing the library door when she heard a heavy
fall. She opened the door and looked within and saw Lord Champernoun
lying unconscious on the floor. She called aloud for help. Her cry was
answered by Jasper. They went in together and lifted the old nobleman
into his chair. His face was bloodless, and they could not hear him
breathing.
"Holy Mother, he is dead!" exclaimed Jasper Oglander. "What in Heaven's
name can have caused it so suddenly?" He looked blankly about the room
as if in search of an explanation. Seeing the letter on the floor he
picked it up, and unnoticed by Lady Betty thrust it into the breast of
his doublet.
"'Tis his heart!" cried Lady Betty. "He must surely have had some sudden
shock. It may even be that Gilbert's departure hath unduly excited him."
Then, remembering Gilbert, she turned to Jasper. "Good my brother," said
she, "go, I beseech you, and bring back my son, for he must not be
allowed to leave England. Take horse at once and bring him back, and--"
she glanced once again at the lifeless baron, felt for the beating of
his heart, and put her cheek to his lips to discover if there might not
still be some breath in him--"bring also a physician. There may yet be
hope."
Jasper shook his head sadly.
"It is death, madam," said he; "I know full well that it is death.
Nevertheless, I will go at once into Plymouth and bring Gilbert back
with me; for, as you most truly say, he must not be permitted to quit
the country while his grandsire lies dead. Think on't, my lady," he went
on, "your son Gilbert is now the head of this noble house. He is Baron
Champernoun--"
"Go--go at once!" implored Lady Betty, and her eyes followed him
anxiously as he left the room. And as he went out Drusilla, Donna Lela,
Christopher Pym, and others entered in alarm, only to find that Lord
Champernoun had passed indeed beyond all hope.
Little did Gilbert Oglander dream of this calamity as he sat in the
stern of the rowing-boat that was taking him out to the _Revenge_. His
thoughts were only of the ships and of the men who were to be his future
companions, and he listened with full interest to the talk that was
going on beside him between Ambrose Pennington and old Jacob Hartop.
"Here we are, good my masters! There lieth our fleet!" cried Pennington,
as the boat was brought round abreast of the outer wall of the harbour.
"Dost know the ships by sight, Hartop?"
"Not I," answered Jacob, leaning forward and running his eyes with slow
deliberation along the line of stately ships of war. "They be all new
built since my time, and, as I have already said, I have been these many
weeks past away from Plymouth, and only came into the town again early
this morning. Prithee, which of them is the _Revenge_?"
"We can scarcely see her as yet," returned Pennington. "She doth lie out
yonder beyond the point, half-hidden by the larger vessel that is moored
this side of her. The larger ship is the _Bonaventure_, the greatest in
the squadron by a good hundred tons. Sir Robert Cross is her
commander--a right worthy seaman and a gallant. Next to her lies Captain
Duffield's ship the _Crane_, and astern of her again the _Foresight_,
with Captain Thomas Vavasour's pennant flying from her mast-head. These
two great ships to the leeward are the _Lion_ and the _Defiance_."
"Ay, and I judge that the _Defiance_ is the one with the higher hull,"
remarked Hartop, "for I see she doth fly my Lord Thomas Howard's banner
and an admiral's pennant. 'Tis a right goodly array truly, yet small
enough, my masters, for the work we have in hand, as ye would surely
agree an you knew how many great galleons of Spain do go to make up the
treasure fleet that we have engaged to capture."
The boat was now being rowed along the line of the admiral's squadron,
and Gilbert Oglander paid no farther regard to the conversation of his
companions, but directed his attention to each of the great vessels in
turn. There were six of Queen Elizabeth's ships; the largest being the
_Bonaventure_ of six hundred tons, and the smallest being the _Crane_ of
two hundred tons. But in addition to these there were some half a dozen
other vessels which had been contributed to the expedition by certain
patriotic English gentlemen and merchant adventurers, as the _Bark
Raleigh_, which was Sir Walter Raleigh's share in the enterprise, the
_Prudence_, the _Pilgrim_, and the _George Noble_. There were also
several smaller ships, victuallers, as they were called, carrying stores
and extra ammunition. The whole fleet numbered in all twenty sails, and
the combined companies numbered something like two thousand five hundred
men and boys. The larger ships mounted from thirty to fifty guns apiece.
Of this squadron Lord Thomas Howard was the appointed admiral and
general. His vice-admiral was Sir Richard Grenville.