WE TAKE THE MERCHANT
Ten days more passed; but they were not so dull and tedious as those I
had spent heretofore. Both Steele and myself were rapidly improving in
health, under the cheering influence of our mutual companionship and
conversation.
We passed the days in recounting our mutual adventures; he telling of
his experience in the Low Country; the many hairbreadth escapes that he
had met with at the hands of the Spaniards; of the struggles that the
people of Holland were passing through in their fight for freedom, and
how many gallant Englishmen had drawn swords in their cause. He also
asked me something of my Irish campaign with Sidney many years ago,
when I was but a light-hearted lad, before I had ever gone to London
and lost the sweetness and freshness of my youth in that great city of
fashions and society.
I would tell him of the gayeties of London of which he knew little; of
the nobles and ladies of fashion, and their empty, care-free, butterfly
existence.
I told him of a great play which I had seen, when the little man,
Shakespeare, had played a noble tragedy before the crown, and tried
to give him some idea of the great lighted house with its audience of
nobles and fair ladies.
Steele's eyes flashed, as I tried to depict the play, and the
enthusiasm of the people as they saw some noble scene.
"It must have been grand!--grand! lad," he cried. "I would give five
years of my existence to live such a life, be it only for a day."
I also told him of my father's dismissal, for Steele's was a fine and
generous nature, which invited confidence; and he agreed with me that
Richard must have had a hand in it.
We also talked of the golden Virginia, which Raleigh was determined
to make into a great, vast empire; and discussed its wild, ferocious
tribes, and its mines of gold and gems. So passed ten days.
We had exhausted all plans for escaping; none seemed feasible. Were we
to overpower our jailer, our condition would not be bettered; and so
being surrounded by a shipload of pirates, and with no means of escape,
we mutually agreed to wait until land was reached before making an
attempt to free ourselves.
On the eleventh morning, just as we finished our breakfast, Steele went
to the grating to look out, and as he did so, uttered an exclamation.
"Look!" he cried, pointing out upon the sea.
I ran over to the window, and following his finger, saw far away on
the horizon a dark speck, which Steele asserted was a ship. Even as we
looked we heard a hoarse order in Spanish, a language I am familiar
with. It was DeNortier's command to the pirates to put about in the
direction of the distant vessel.
All the morning long we followed that dark speck upon the water,
gaining little by little, until about two of the evening we had gotten
well in sight of her. She was a great galleon, bearing the yellow flag
of Spain, her decks crowded with men, women, and children, who pointed
and gesticulated at us.
Slowly, steadily, we drew nearer, nearer, until within a few yards of
her. I could see the soldiers trying to drive the women and children
down below. Suddenly we came about; I heard the hoarse word of
command, and then like a peal of thunder from a clear sky, the pirates
discharged their culverins into the galleon.
The slaughter was fearful. Men, women, and children were mowed down;
and the screams of the wounded and dying rang loud and clear in our
ears. Men ran hither and thither upon the decks. A few of the soldiers
returned the fire of the pirates, but they seemed paralyzed with terror.
Slowly our vessel came around in the wind, and discharged another
broadside--and yet another, the musketoons of the pirates keeping up
an incessant fire all the while. The deck of the galleon literally
ran blood. Of the many who had thronged the vessel but a few minutes
before, barely one-half were alive.
The others lay huddled into great heaps--some dead, others grievously
wounded, many praying, others screaming with pain. An officer, his
steel helmet gleaming, ran to and fro, trying to get the men in
order--but in vain.
They seemed utterly beside themselves with fright, and abandoning the
culverins, from which they had never fired a shot, the gunners ran
down the hold; while the remainder of the men stood as if dazed by the
destruction which the pirates had wrought.
As we looked on, sick at heart, and wishing but for some weapon, that
we might strike one blow for the galleon, we heard the door behind us
open, and old Herrick, a grin of delight upon his face, came into the
cabin.
"The captain wishes you to come on deck," he informed us.
We followed the old ruffian in silence up the companionway, and stood
upon the deck. A few dead and wounded pirates lay about us.
DeNortier, sword in hand, stood by the mast, two or three of his
lieutenants around him. He gave us a dark look and said, "Gentlemen,
you will accompany me to yonder ship."
I merely inclined my head in token of our assent.
The boats were gotten out, and crowded with the pirates, made their way
to the stricken vessel. As we drew nearer, we saw that the slaughter
was even worse than it had appeared from the deck of the ship.
Here lay the body of a fresh young girl; there that of a grizzled old
sailor; here a soldier in his armor, musketoon in hand; there a young
child, his chubby arm under his head, as if asleep and dreaming; there
a negro, dark and scowling. It was a horrible sight.
We climbed on deck, and immediately DeNortier ordered a squad of
sailors to throw the dead bodies overboard; another to divide the
prisoners--the men into one group, the women and children into another.
Steele, who had been examining a culverin that stood near him,
touched me on the sleeve. I turned and looked at the gun to which he
pointed--it was spiked and useless. We looked at another--spiked too.
The culverins had all evidently been disabled by some trusty ally on
the ship. This accounted for the fact that they were never fired. I
turned sick at the thought of such treachery, which had cost so many
human lives, and so much blood and carnage.
And now we noticed that the pirates had stood all the men, who were
left alive, by the side of the rail, their hands bound behind them.
DeNortier advanced in front of the silent line.
"My men," he cried in Spanish (most of the men were Spaniards), "who of
you wish a merry life, plenty of wine, gold in abundance, and a good
ship under you, to roam the wide blue seas? Any who prefer that to a
watery grave, step forward."
There were about one hundred men left; some twenty stepped forward; the
rest stood firm and unyielding. Some of their faces were pale; a few of
them were wounded; some had wives and children in far-off Spain, who
would watch for their coming in vain. The suns would wax and wane; the
hair of the watchers would fade slowly into the white of the winter
snows; their children would grow up, live their little day, and lie
down in the arms of the great angel, "Death"--but still they would not
come. Not for them was a grave beneath the sunny skies of Spain, with
the mourners to weep about their lifeless clay--theirs was a watery
grave, lonely and deep, beneath the ocean's brine.
"I will give you one more chance," the pirate said. "Step forward, and
your lives are saved--if not, overboard you go."
I have never admired the Spaniard as a race; but at this moment I felt
a thrill of admiration and respect for those men, most of them bronzed
and battered veterans, who could look into the face of death and meet
him unafraid and undismayed.
The captain raised his hand; but I could not see them go down without
one effort to save them. I sprang forward, as did also Steele.
"Count," I cried, "thou canst not mean to throw them overboard?--thou
dost not mean to do that?"
"Why not?" he said coolly. "They are of no use to me, if they will not
join me. I cannot keep them as captives. What other course is open to
me?"
"Unbind them," I said; "give them the ship and let them go. Better
starvation upon the seas, than such a death as this."
"What? And let them bring down a swarm about my ears? Hardly!" he
sneered. "I was not born yesterday, brave sir." Then raising his voice
he shouted, "Herrick, seize them!"
The sturdy Herrick and a score of others rushed upon us. The struggle
was brief; we were unarmed, and two against a score, for many others of
the pirates had rushed to the assistance of their companions.
I felled some two or three of my assailants to the floor, and Steele
did the like, but flesh and blood could do no more. We were seized,
bound hand and foot, and deposited like two logs on the floor of the
deck to await the destruction of the captives.
The prisoners, with their hands bound and tied together, could only
dumbly watch the struggle, which was to decide their fate.
As the pirates, after securing us, turned to their captives to put the
brutal sentence of their captain into execution, the prisoner who stood
at the end of the line next us, and who wore a long white beard, which
flowed down over his armor, turned to us and cried in English:
"We thank you, noble sirs, for your gallant struggle in our behalf.
May the blessings of the Holy Virgin be with you forever! May you ever
remember that you have stood up manfully for those who could not help
themselves; and may the memory of this deed be as water to the thirsty
traveler in the desert. Farewell! may the benediction of God be ever
with you."
As he finished, the pirates rushed upon them. I had been a soldier
in Ireland, and had looked unmoved on many a bloody field, but this
slaughter of men, bound hand and foot, was more than I could see
unmoved. A moment of brief struggle; I turned my head aside; there
was a thud, as man after man struck the water--then silence. I looked
again; they were gone; only the pirates, laughing and jeering among
themselves, remained.
And now the burly Herrick appeared, leading by the sleeve a girl,
dark, slender, petite, with a complexion like a wild rose, and great
glorious black eyes. Truly she was a beautiful sight, though she shrank
back in affright from the admiring eyes of DeNortier.
"By the Holy City! Here is a find!" he cried. "Herrick, thou shalt be
made a bishop, and wear a miter; I swear it shall be so."
The rascal bowed, a leer upon his face.
"I thought that this would please thy Excellency," he said.
"I have long searched the broad blue seas for a bride--what need to go
further? Here is a pearl from the Antilles, a very jewel of the West.
Bid Father Francis stand forth, and make us one."
The girl stood as though frozen into stone, during this conversation,
as if dazed by the terrible scene through which she had passed. But as
DeNortier motioned a seaman to find the priest, whom he called Father
Francis, the full horror of the situation seemed to burst upon her,
and breaking away from the grasp of old Herrick, she threw herself at
DeNortier's feet, in a torrent of tears.
"Señor! Señor!" she cried, "for the love of God, have mercy! Hast thou
no soul? Hadst thou a mother? For her sake I implore! Kill me if thou
wilt, but do not do this act; 'twill be a stone about thy neck, to drag
thee down to the bottomless pit."
The Count smiled and touched her with his hand.
"Rise up, fair one," he said; "thou shalt be queen of the tropic
isles, and share my throne. Thou shalt have slaves to answer thy beck
and call; thy slightest wish shall be my law. Dry those tears; Father
Francis shall tie the wedding knot--and then, ho! for the fragrant isle
where we shall reign."
The girl sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing.
"Dog!" she cried, "rather would I die than be the wife of such as thou!
Rather would I let the crows pick the flesh from my bones, than to
submit to such an outrage! Knowest thou not that I am the Donna Maria
DeCarnova, the daughter of the Duc DeCarnova? The blood of kings and
princes runs in my veins. Kill me, if thou wilt, but do not compel me
to be thy wife."
The Count laughed--such a laugh as the damned might have uttered, as
they gloat in the regions of the Inferno over a soul that is lost.
"Donna," he said, "save thy pretty blandishments, until after the
priest hath finished with us. Thou mightst as well try to climb into
the clouds of Heaven as to move me, after my mind has been made up. My
wife thou shalt be, whether thou dost desire it or not. Prepare thyself
for the wedding."
I could stand this scene no longer; for, from where I lay, bound and
tied, I could see and hear all that passed. The agony of the girl
touched me to the heart. I have seen much of the evil side of life; but
all the scenes of sin and sorrow have made me unable to turn a deaf ear
to the cry of suffering, agonizing humanity.
Naught had I to live for, disowned and spurned by my own father; cut
off by an impenetrable barrier from all I knew and loved, what did
there remain for me? What mattered a few short days? I could not ask
the Lady Margaret Carroll to share such a life as this--would not let
her do so, even were she willing.
The Spanish girl was young, wealthy, beautiful; life held much, meant
much to her; stretched out rich and wonderful before her eyes. I would
let the maiden go. I was a soldier and a gentleman, and death's cold
hand had been near me too often on the fields of Ireland to fear him
now.
"Steele," I said, "I am past my youth; have seen the best in life; have
drunk deep of the golden cup. The maiden is young and lovely. I will
exchange myself for the girl. DeNortier may do what he wishes with me,
if he will but let the maid go free. Good-by, old friend--God bless
thee! We have been together but a small space as time goes, yet I have
learned to love thee. When thou returnest to England in the days to
come, thou wilt bear my devoirs to Lady Margaret Carroll, and tell her
that I was ever unto death her loyal knight. That I died as became a
soldier and a gentleman--my last thoughts were of her. Farewell!"
I could not see his face, for they had bound and thrown me with my back
to him; but in a moment he spoke, his voice husky with emotion:
"Truly, my friend, thou art the bravest gentleman that it has ever
been my good fortune to know. I would I could persuade thee from this
deed."
"Thou canst not," I answered. "My mind is fixed and immovable."
"Then fare thee well!" he answered, "and God be with thee. If ever
I come to England, I will search out the Lady Margaret Carroll, and
deliver thy message, though I be compelled to walk through England
barefoot to do so."
"So be it," I replied, and I called loudly for DeNortier.
The Count came forward to where I lay bound, his face dark with anger,
his eyes flashing; plainly the Spanish girl had not left him in the
best of moods.
"What wouldst thou have?" he cried. "Speak quickly, my time is short."
"Count," I answered, "thou art a soldier, and sometime a gentleman.
Release the maid; swear to me that thou wilt furnish her a safe conduct
to Spain; let my friend, Steele, go with her as escort, and thou mayst
do what thou wilt with me."
"Art thou mad," he said, "that thou proposest such a thing? Art thou
flesh and blood, that thou shouldst pass through such torture as I can
devise? Granting that thy life should be of enough value to me that I
should release the maid, of what benefit would that be to me? What is
the maid to thee, that thou shouldst give thy life for her?"
As I lay there, a verse of Scripture passed through my mind, learned
long years ago, at my mother's knee. I had not thought of it for
twenty years, but it came clear and fresh to my mind, as if learned on
yesterday. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his
life for his friends." Hardly knowing what I did, I repeated these few
words, more to myself than to him. They were so short, and yet so full
of meaning.
The loving face of my mother came back to me as of old, when kneeling
at her feet, I would repeat my simple prayers. Much had I learned since
then, more of sin and evil than of good; yet many things, that I had
lisped long years ago, would come back to me at unexpected moments,
like rich gold buried for a season, and but awaiting the spade of the
miner to uncover the yellow ore. Dear patient one, thy toil was long
and weary, but perhaps thou builded better than thou dreamed.
DeNortier burst into a peal of laughter at the words. "This is the
best yet!" he shouted, stamping his feet with glee. "The devil turned
priest! I had as soon expected old Herrick to don the cassock."
I answered him: "The maid is naught to me, yet I would not see her
young life blighted. Swear to me on the crucifix that she shall go
unharmed, with my friend as an escort; that thou wilt send them to some
Spanish port, and I am content. Let it be said that thou didst one good
deed in all thy career of blood and crime; perhaps it will avail thee
much, at the last grim moment."
He still stood looking at me. "Thou art a strange and perverse man,
that thou wouldst give thy life for an unknown maid, but the humor of
the thing appeals to me. I, too, am strange, and have my whims and
fancies. So be it; the maid shall go free with thy friend to see her
safe. I have another vessel, which meets me in a day or two; they shall
go on that, and thou canst take her place."
"One last word," I said, "thou canst take my life if thou wilt, but
thou canst not make me stoop to play the knave. A gentleman I was born,
and by God's help, a gentleman I will die."
A bitter smile played around his mouth for a moment. "So be it," he
said, and turning, he called: "Francis! Francis! where art thou?"
"Here, thy Excellency," cried a voice; and from out of the group
of pirates, there waddled towards us the large, stout figure of an
Englishman, clad in the gown of a priest; a man on whose rubicund face
the mellow juice of the grape had stamped its seal. The nose red and
swollen, the cheeks puffed and bloated, the watery eye, all told the
tale of his vice as plainly as if it had been spoken in words.
He came forward, a smile of triumph upon his face. "Ah! thy
Excellency," he cried, as he came nearer, "did I not do my work well?
Not one culverin to answer thee with, and all at the risk of my life.
Was I not nearly discovered several times? I would not go through the
like again for a mine of gold, freshly dug from the virgin soil."
"Thou shalt be well requited for thy pains," DeNortier replied. "In
the meantime, hast thou a cross?"
"Most assuredly," he answered; "the servant hath ever the tools of his
calling," and he plucked from under the folds of his cassock a little
iron cross, and held it out to the Count.
"Swear upon it," I said, "that by the bones of thy ancestors, by the
body of Jesus, by all the fears of perdition, thou wilt deliver the
maiden, with Captain Steele, safe and unharmed, into the hands of her
friends. If thou failest to do so, may a thousand curses weigh down thy
soul."
"I swear it," he said sullenly, kissing the cross, and returning it to
the priest.
"And thou foul imp of Satan," I cried to the priest, "the first time I
get but a chance, I will run my sword through thy traitor heart; and
this I swear."
"Bold words, brave sir," he answered. "Strange words from a dying man.
I will heed them more, when thou art more able to perform thy threat,"
and with a leer at me, he hobbled after DeNortier, who had gone forward
to acquaint the girl with the fact that she was free.
As he told her that she was at liberty, and would be placed in the
hands of her friends in a few days, and that I had taken her place, she
ran forward to where I lay, and threw herself at my feet.
"Oh, Señor!" she cried, "thou must be a blessed saint in disguise."
"No saint, maiden," I answered, "only a weak, erring man."
"But thou canst not mean that thou wilt stay among these dreadful men,
and let me go back to my home? I cannot let thee do that; thy blood
would be upon my hands."
"No," I answered, "I am in the hands of God; thou canst do no good by
remaining here. I am in the power of these men already, and can be in
no worse position. Perhaps," I said, speaking in a lower tone, "thou
canst bring succor, and thus assist me."
"I will," she answered quickly, "though I be compelled to go to the
King himself. Have no fear, I will send back as soon as I reach my
friends, and rescue thee." And before I could prevent her, she had
caught my hand, and pressed it to her lips.
Herrick and a party of his men came forward at this moment, and with
his accustomed sneer, he bowed.
"I am sorry to interrupt this touching scene, but orders thou knowest
must be obeyed," and with that two of his men picked me up and carried
me forward. Passing the group of weeping women and children, huddled
together near the companionway, they carried me in a small boat over to
the other vessel and down below to my old prison. I was alone this time
though; unbinding my hands, they left me.
Two days later DeNortier summoned me to come on deck. At some little
distance there lay a small vessel; and on its deck, leaning upon the
rail, stood two figures--one I knew for Steele, and the other was the
Spanish maiden.
Even as I looked, the ship got under way; I waved my hand at them,
and they replied. They still waved at me as far as I could see them.
Smaller, smaller, smaller the vessel grew, until she dwindled to a mere
speck upon the water; finally I could discern it no longer--the ship
was gone. And thus I saw them no more.