As soon as Captain Rover had left me, I hastened to Sir Thomas. He
received my information very calmly, and cross-questioned me as to all
Captain Rover had said. "I wished that you had stopped him," he
observed; "and yet I have no reason to doubt his information. I have
already received a warning to the same effect, but was in some doubts as
to the truth of the account given me. None, however, now remains on my
mind. I will, therefore, follow the only prudent course: I will take my
treasure and my family out of the country forthwith."
My patron was prompt in all his actions. Captain Davis was in the
harbour. He instantly sent A'Dale on board to the captain, telling him
to get his vessel in readiness for his reception, and desired him at the
same time to send a dozen stout hands, well-armed, for the protection of
some goods which he proposed to ship forthwith. Litters were ordered
for Aveline and Richard. He, poor fellow, was unable to sit on
horseback; indeed, Sir Thomas could scarcely have been aware of his
dangerous condition, or he would not have attempted to move him,
especially at night, when the damp air was so likely to increase his
malady. Master Clough was not unmindful of the threatened attack on the
house, and secured several porters and other trusty men for its
protection. A similar body was also prepared to conduct the litters and
Sir Thomas down to the water-side. The men had been summoned up one by
one, and did not put on their harness till they were inside the house:
thus no one was aware of the preparations we were making. The tide
would not serve till an hour after midnight: we therefore waited till
nearly twelve o'clock before we set out.
The horses were brought round for Sir Thomas, with four stout
men-at-arms, who had been engaged as his guards. A'Dale and I went on
foot; he taking care of Richard, while I walked by the side of Aveline's
litter. With our swords drawn, and our pistols in our belts, ready for
instant use, we proceeded along the streets. Several persons passed us,
but if they were robbers, they must have seen that we were too strong a
party to be attacked with impunity. Thus we reached the water-side in
safety. We there found, much to our surprise, a number of people, all
of them with boxes and bundles on their backs, or under their arms--
quite a concourse they seemed in the gloom of night. As we entered our
boat, we saw that several other boats were ready, apparently for their
reception. There were old men and women and children, as well as many
young men. As the boats were filled, they rowed off down the river. We
could judge by their exclamations that they were in great haste, and
fearful of being overtaken. At length there was a cry, "The guard is
coming! the guard is coming!"
The men faced about and drew their weapons, while the remainder of the
women and children were hurried into the boats. Then their protectors
slowly retreated. The soldiers rushed forward, as they saw the number
of the fugitives on shore decreasing. The latter defended themselves
bravely. We were, of course, shoved off forthwith, lest the soldiers
might fire on us, as we saw them doing upon the helpless people in the
other boats. We judged, as we pulled down the river, from the flashes
of fire-arms, that none of the fugitives were longer defending
themselves on shore, but that either they had thrown themselves into the
water, or had escaped in the boats, unless they had been taken
prisoners. From the number of people, and the boats which were rowing
down the river with us, we thought there must have been one hundred or
more fugitives escaping from the fearful persecution of the terrible
Inquisitor, Peter Titelmann. From what Captain Rover had told me, I
concluded that these people were attempting to reach his ship. I prayed
earnestly that they might do so in safety. We urged our boatmen to row
as fast as they could, for now numerous lights were seen on the shore,
and we feared that the emissaries of the Inquisitors were getting boats
ready in order to pursue the fugitives. I knew well the sort of man
with whom they would have to deal, if the latter were captured.
Aveline became as much interested as I was, when I explained what was
taking place.
"I wish that I could help the poor people," she exclaimed; "but I can,
at all events, pray for them!"
She did not appear in any way to think of the dangerous position in
which we ourselves were placed, for there was no doubt that, should we
be overtaken, we should run a great risk of being cast into the prisons
of the Inquisitors. Although no building exclusively used for confining
those accused of heresy had been erected in the Netherlands, the
ordinary prisons were so completely under the command of the
Inquisitors, that they answered every purpose of those fearful edifices
which existed in Spain.
Sir Thomas sat calmly in the boat supporting Richard in his arms, and
endeavouring with his cloak to protect him from the night air. As I
cast my eyes back toward the town we were leaving, the number of lights
increased, and some appeared to be close to the water, and moving
towards us. "If our pursuers have lights in their boats, it will be an
advantage to us," I thought, "as we shall be the better able to avoid
them." I did not, however, mention what I had observed to our crew, who
were already doing their utmost to reach the ship. At length, greatly
to our satisfaction, her signal lights were seen a short distance ahead,
and soon her high sides appeared rising up close before us. Aveline,
with her maiden and Richard, were soon lifted on board, followed by Sir
Thomas. The treasure was quickly hoisted up, and, as the breeze was
favourable, the ship was immediately got under weigh. Those only who
knew the river well could venture down it in the dark. Objects scarcely
visible to landsmen's eyes were seen by her pilot, and thus we were able
to avoid any risk of striking.
We continued on till morning at length broke, when no boats were in
sight; but a short distance from us appeared a large vessel, which I had
little doubt was the _Falcon_, as, having watched her earnestly when I
had before crossed to England, I well remembered her appearance.
It was satisfactory, I thought, to have her near us, in case we might
meet an enemy, as she was, I knew, well-armed; and I was very certain
that Captain Rover would do his best to support us. I had more of
Aveline's society than I had enjoyed for some time, for Sir Thomas was
greatly taken up with his son. Poor Richard was evidently the worse for
being out on the river at night, and his father, I think, now for the
first time saw his very great danger. Aveline watched the tall ship
which followed us with great interest, when I told her about the poor
people who, I believed, were on board, and gave her an account of the
singular man who commanded the vessel.
At length we were at sea, but the wind was so light that we made but
little way. The night was very dark, and during it we lost sight of the
_Falcon_. After Aveline had retired to her cabin, I observed that the
captain called all the crew on deck, and ordered them to take in some of
the sails and to furl the rest. I inquired why he did this.
"Because I don't like the look of the weather, Master Verner," he
answered. "I may be mistaken, and we may not have a breath of wind all
night, and if so, our sails will do us no good; whereas, if the gale
comes down upon us, it will be well they are all snugly furled."
I agreed with him; and, with the expectation of what might occur, I
could not bring myself to lie down in my cabin. I consequently
continued walking the deck with him. Now he stopped and looked out over
the ship's side, peering, as it were, into the darkness; now, without
making any remark, he continued his walk. He was at no time very
communicative, being a man rather of action than of words. He was,
however, brave and true-hearted, and I felt satisfied that in no safer
hands could our lives be placed. We had not taken many turns when I
felt a strong, damp wind in my face, which rapidly increased. In a
short time the dark water was lighted up with the foam-crested seas,
which rose out of its hitherto mirror-like surface. The wind howled and
whistled through the rigging, the yards creaked, stray ropes lashed
about, and the foam began to fly over the decks.
The vessel, like a horse to which the spur has been given, dashed
onwards, plunging and leaping, as it were, over the fast rising waves.
The noise I have described increased as the vessel began to plunge more
and more furiously. At first, only masses of spray broke over her; but
now the seas themselves dashed upwards and washed over our deck. I had
gone down below to put on my sea-coat, when I heard Sir Thomas's voice
inquiring what was occurring. Aveline also asked timidly if anything
serious was the matter. I could only reply that a gale had commenced,
which I hoped our stout ship would without difficulty ride out. Even
during the short time I had been below a change for the worse had taken
place. The wind howled more furiously; the water in greater volumes
burst over the vessel, and she seemed to pitch and roll more desperately
than before. The captain advised me to go below, urging that the sea
might wash over the deck, and perchance carry me overboard; but I begged
to remain on deck, saying that I could hold on to the rigging as well as
the crew. Few words were spoken; only occasionally the captain issued
some orders to the helmsman or to the rest of the crew, which were
quickly obeyed. At length, several heavy seas struck the ship; one came
roaring up, and carried away part of her bulwarks, and a breach having
thus been made, those which broke on board committed yet further damage.
After a time, I heard the captain order the carpenter to sound the
well. He spoke a few ominous words, on his return, to the captain. The
ship had sprung a leak. Orders were given to man the pumps. And now
the crew began working away with might and main. However bad the leak,
they might hope to keep the water under till the ship could reach a
port. Thus the night passed away. I begged that I might take my part,
and laboured with the rest. I was thankful indeed to see the grey dawn
slowly break upon the world of waters. On every side the dark green
seas were rolling and leaping up, thickly crested with masses of foam,
which flew off their tops, and danced from sea to sea. No other vessel
was in sight. The dark clouds hung down, as it were, covering the ocean
with a thick canopy. The leak would allow of no rest to the crew. As
soon as one party of men grew tired, others took their places. Several
times I threw myself down on the deck to regain my strength.
I was thus lying down near the companion-hatch, when I saw a figure
standing close to me. It was Aveline. She gazed about her with a look
of astonishment and awe, but when her eyes fell on me, her countenance
exhibited an expression of consternation. "Oh! Ernst Verner, what has
happened? are you hurt?" she exclaimed.
I rose as she spoke, assuring her that I had suffered no harm, and at
the same time entreating her to return to the cabin, lest one of the
furious seas which ever and anon swept over the deck might carry her
into the raging ocean.
"But the same fate might befall you," she said. "Oh, Ernst, how
fearful!"
I showed her that I was holding on to a ring-bolt in the deck, and that
the risk I ran when thus lying down was not so great as she had
supposed. As I was speaking, I saw a sea rising high above the bows of
the vessel. I had just time to grasp her in my arms, and to spring
under shelter of the companion-hatch, before it broke on board, and
rushed as others had done along our deck. Not without difficulty I
saved her from injury, and, descending the ladder, placed her in the
cabin, where her maiden was sitting crying bitterly with alarm. On the
other side was Sir Thomas, supporting poor Richard. He himself had been
too often at sea not to have been placed before in a like position,
though he seemed scarcely aware how furious was the gale then blowing,
nor had he been told, I found, how serious was the leak the vessel had
sprung. The crew continued working energetically at the pumps; and I
judged by the way the captain and mates urged them to persevere,
themselves working like the rest, that the water in the hold had in no
way been got under. The captain and his officers were brave men; but
their countenances grew pale with anxiety, and I saw them looking
constantly round the horizon in search of some vessel which might come
to our assistance. At length I asked Captain Davis what he thought of
our condition.
"To be frank with you, I think very bad of it, Master Verner," he said.
"If the gale abates, the ship may be kept afloat; but if not, all our
efforts will be unavailing; and then, unless some vessel comes to our
assistance, drowning must be our lot!"
My heart sank at these words, for I had not before realised our danger.
Should I go and tell those below to be prepared for death? I had not
the heart to do it. At that instant my post at the pumps was left by
another man. I rushed frantically at it, and worked away with might and
main. As long as I was in action, I could keep off the painful thoughts
which pressed on me. Was I prepared for death? Yes, I had settled that
matter as every man ought to settle it; if he does not, wretched is his
condition when the hour of trial arrives; but I thought of others,--my
kind patron, of his gentle son, but, more than all, of Aveline, so
young, so fair, thus to be summoned out of the world. Yet, surely there
must be hope. I looked at the boats.
"We can be saved in them, captain," I said.
"They would not live a moment in such a sea as this," he answered.
"Then we can construct some rafts?"
He shook his head.
"The strongest man would quickly be washed off them. No, Ernst Verner,
we are in God's hands. If He orders the storm and seas, they will obey
Him. I know thus much about religion. We will make another effort to
get at the leak, but not for a moment can we desert the pumps. Already
the ship labours heavily, and a few more feet of water in her hold will
carry her to the bottom."
The captain was as good as his word. A sail was got over the bows, and
hauled by ropes under the ship, where the leak was supposed to be. This
done, a party of men descended with bedding and clothes, and such loose
stuff as could be found, in order to ram it into the leak. It seemed
that these efforts were not altogether unavailing, for though the water
still increased, it did so less rapidly than before. Hour after hour
passed by, and I judged from the looks of the captain, and the way he
spoke, that he was still very anxious.
"We can but prolong our lives," he remarked at length. "The men are now
almost worn-out, and cannot, I see, continue much longer at work." Even
as he spoke, several of the crew left their posts, and, throwing
themselves on the deck, declared that they could do no more. Others
murmured out that the ship was sinking. Some begged that spirits might
be given to them.
At this juncture, as I was gazing round the horizon, my eye fell on a
white spot rising above the dancing seas. At first I thought it was but
a sea-gull's wing, or it might be the crest of a wave higher than those
near us. I called the attention of one of the mates, who was standing
near me, to it. He looked at it anxiously for some time. At length he
shouted, "A sail! a sail! Cheer up, lads!"
The cry was taken up by the men. Those who had thrown themselves on the
deck leaped to their feet, and once more seized the handles of the
pumps. Nearer and nearer drew the ship. The wind too, I thought, was
also abating.
"Cheer up, lads! cheer up!" shouted the captain ever and anon, as the
men appeared to be relaxing their efforts at the pumps. "You will see
your homes again, never fear, if you keep moving smartly!" Still,
although the crew worked on bravely, the water continued pouring in, and
rising higher and higher. It needed not now for any one to tell Sir
Thomas Gresham or his companions in the cabin of the danger we were in,
for already the water was rising to their feet. They now rushed with
scared looks on deck; Sir Thomas supporting his son in his arms,
followed by Aveline and her maiden.
Seeing the way in which the men were working at the pumps, Sir Thomas,
placing Richard under shelter within the companion-hatch, seized a
handle, and began himself working away like the rest.
"You should have told me of this before," he observed. "I had no right
to be excused labouring with others."
His example had the effect of encouraging the crew, who even now had
begun to relax somewhat in their efforts.
A signal of distress had been hoisted. It was seen by the approaching
vessel. I judged from her appearance that she was the _Falcon_, and
Captain Davis told me I was right. Night, however, was approaching, and
the difficulty of reaching her would be greatly increased by the
darkness. On she came, and by this time the sea had so much gone down,
that boats could be lowered from her without difficulty. Two were seen
let into the water, and, propelled by sturdy crews, they approached our
ship. Sir Thomas at that time thought little of the wealth on board the
_Diamond_. His desire was to save the lives of his son and those with
him, but Richard seemed to engross almost all his thoughts. He scarcely
regarded himself, so it seemed to me. Even though the boats were
approaching, the captain urged the crew to keep to the pumps.
"Lads," he exclaimed, "it would be a base thing to let this fine ship
sink beneath our feet, if any exertion of ours can keep her afloat!"
"Think not of the wealth on board, but rather run no risk of losing your
own life and that of your companions, Master Davis," said Sir Thomas.
By this time the boats had come alongside.
The first who leaped out of them on to the deck of the sinking ship was
Captain Rover. A glance showed him our condition, and he seemed to
recognise Sir Thomas, though he did not address him by name.
"We will convey you safely on board my ship, sir," he said, "with those
who cannot work; but I never let a stout ship sink under me if I can
keep her afloat; and perchance a few fresh hands will help her to do
that, if my friend here, Captain Davis, will accept their services."
Captain Davis's countenance brightened, and cordially thanking his
brother captain, he accepted his offer.
"You shall have half a dozen of my men for those who are already knocked
up," said Captain Rover.
Meantime Aveline and her maiden had been carefully lowered into one of
the boats. Sir Thomas and Richard followed.
"Can I desert my charge?" I said to myself. "No; that were a disgrace
while I have strength. If Captain Davis remains, so will I."
I did not forget Aveline when I came to this resolution. It was in
spite of the strong wish I had to accompany her. Yet she would be in
safety on board the _Falcon_, and I trusted that the _Diamond_ would yet
swim, and enter port at last. I therefore bade Sir Thomas farewell,
telling him that I would remain by the ship and her cargo, of which I
had charge.
"You do well, Ernst," he exclaimed; "and your service shall not be
forgotten."
I fancied, but it might have been vanity, that Aveline looked up at me
anxiously, as if she wished that I had accompanied her; but my resolve
was taken, I was doing my duty, and prepared for the consequences.
Captain Rover, with our worn-out men and passengers, returned to the
_Falcon_; while we, once more making sail, stood on our course towards
the mouth of the Thames. The six fresh hands which had been left with
us soon reduced the depth of water in the hold. Yet as night came on
our anxiety returned. Though the wind had fallen, the sea was still
somewhat rough, and the night was dark, and we could with difficulty
keep the _Falcon_ in sight. As the wind fell, a fog came on, and at
last completely shut her out. Thus we were all alone on the dark ocean.
Now and then the men at the pumps would cheer and pass jokes to each
other, but those who had knocked off lay without speaking, resting from
their toil. The only other sound was the creaking of the yards against
the masts, and the splashing of the sea against the vessel's bows. I
had had no rest the previous night; at length, overcome with fatigue, I
descended to the cabin, and threw myself into my berth. I had scarcely
time to offer up a prayer before my eyelids closed in sleep. And yet,
while I asked for my own safety, more fervently did I petition for that
of Aveline. The cabin, and many of the articles which she had left
about in the hurried departure from the ship, brought her vividly to my
mind. Yet surely I did not require any visible things to recall her. I
knew full well that there were still many dangers to be encountered.
Another gale might arise. Even the _Falcon_ might spring a leak, or be
driven on rocks or quicksands, while there were many pirates cruising
about, some French and others Flemish, on the look-out for merchantmen
sailing without a convoy of men-of-war.