We expected the next instant to be sent to the bottom of the Scheld,
when a sudden blast filled our sails, almost tearing them from the
bolt-ropes, and sending us gliding rapidly through the water. The guns
aimed at our vessel sent their shot astern of us, two or three only
passing through our mizzen, but doing no further damage. The next
vessel could not have escaped so well, but we saw her still standing
close to us through the gloom. The other was following, and we feared
she must have received greater harm than either of us. But by the
flashes of the guns, we saw her sails close astern of her consort. We
flew on over the tide, but it required all Captain Radford's skill to
steer his vessel through the intricate navigation of the river. The
shores were so low that they could with difficulty be discerned, and
there were numerous banks on either side of us. To run against one of
them, at the rate we were going, might have proved the destruction of
the ship. Still there was no help for it. The Spaniards had vessels,
we knew, up the river, which would be soon sent in pursuit, and, should
they find us aground, we could not hope by any possibility to escape.
They were, however, not likely to venture down in the dark; and therein
lay our chief prospect of safety. The wind, which had so favoured us
when passing the fort, again fell, and, with loosened sails, we
proceeded slowly and more securely down the stream. Daylight found us a
considerable distance on our way; but just as we were about to get clear
of the mouth of the river, the tide setting in, the wind fell, so that
we were compelled to anchor.
A'Dale and I took the opportunity of visiting the other vessels, to
ascertain the fate of the relatives of some of the unfortunate people
who had escaped on board our ship. Sad indeed were the scenes we
witnessed. Several of the poor people were severely wounded, and many
more were mourning for relatives whom they had lost. We had, however,
the happiness to restore a wife to her husband, and, in another case, a
daughter to her mother, though the men of the family had lost their
lives. I was glad to find that our sturdy friend the blacksmith--I
forget his name--had escaped. As our vessel was somewhat overcrowded,
and the others had prepared for many more refugees than had escaped, we
conveyed some of our passengers to them, while they bestowed some
provisions on us, of which we were in great need.
All arrangements being made, and the wind coming fair again, we
continued our course towards the Thames, thankful that we had escaped
thus far. But we knew very well that we were not yet safe. Several of
the Duke of Alva's ships or other Spanish craft were sailing about in
all directions in search of prey, and, we heard, were not at all
particular what vessels they captured; certainly they would not scruple
to capture us. In spite of this we kept up our spirits, thankful for
having already escaped so many dangers.
I should have been blind indeed had I not seen by this time what
Aveline's feelings were towards me. I was sitting by her side on deck,
our eyes wandering over the blue ocean, which now sparkled in the bright
sunlight. The air was soft and balmy, and the sky undimmed by a cloud.
"Aveline," I said, "you have now a father whose permission I should wish
to ask, and if he grants it, will you consent to be my wife?"
"Yes, I will," she answered. "I am sure I could never consent to be the
wife of anybody else."
I pressed her hand. I had felt almost sure that she had understood my
feelings, and yet, without pointedly asking her, I had no right to be
quite sure.
"I have no fears," she said, "about my father giving me leave to marry
you. I am sure he regards you already as a son. I only wish that I had
a dower to bring you."
"You have one," I answered, just then recollecting the document in Lady
Anne's hands. I told her of it, and added:
"And, now your father has appeared, I have little doubt it will enable
him to obtain possession of the estate of which it speaks. And yet I
almost wish that you had it not, as I would rather feel that I were
labouring for your support; and I am sure that my patron will place me
in a position by which I may obtain sufficient means for that object."
We agreed that I should speak forthwith to Captain Radford on the
subject. I did so. He smiled when I asked his permission to marry
Aveline.
"You have very fairly won her, young sir," he said; "and in truth I feel
that I have no right to withhold her from you, or rather that you have a
greater right to her than I have. I saw from the first how matters
stood; and I need scarcely tell you that I feel great satisfaction in
the knowledge that she has obtained one I believe well able and willing
to protect and support her through life."
No lover could have desired a more satisfactory answer, and indeed I
hoped that in our case the course of true love was about to run
smoothly. To be sure, we had gone through many dangers, and I knew very
well that we were not free from them yet altogether.
When, afterwards, Aveline had retired to her cabin, and I told A'Dale
what had occurred: "It is time, then," said he, "to confess that I have
been talking on the same subject to Margery. My good father and mother
would, I fancy, not object to my marrying her; and, as she has no
parents whose leave she need ask, I had an idea there would be no
difficulty; but, somehow or other, there is. She says that she cannot
make up her mind--that she had not thought of marrying--that she cannot
leave Mistress Aveline or Lady Anne--in truth, she, against all my
expectations, will not do as I ask her. My only hope is that the jade
may change her mind when we land on the shores of Old England."
"We are not in sight of them yet, A'Dale," I answered. "I thank you for
your congratulations, but remember the old proverb, `There's many a slip
between the cup and the lip.' We must not be too sanguine."
I said this in joke, not thinking at the time, so buoyed up was I with
hope, that there was any risk of the saying coming true. That evening,
the wind, which had been light all day, shifted, and blew directly in
our teeth, driving us back again towards the coast of Flanders. All
night long we lay closely hugging the wind, in the hopes of again
working our way off shore. When morning broke, a man went to the
mast-head, to look out and ascertain whether the coast was in sight. He
had not been long there when he shouted out:
"Several sail of ships to the southward, standing towards us."
The announcement was alarming. They could scarcely be friends, and if
they were Spaniards or Flemings in the service of Alva, we were likely
to be sufferers. We announced the fact to our consorts, who had,
indeed, discovered the same themselves. The wind having somewhat
fallen, the captains of the other ships came on board; and it was
agreed, in order that we might have a better chance of escaping, that we
should steer in different directions. Thus the enemy would probably,
not wishing themselves to separate, steer after only one of us. With
earnest prayers that we might all providentially escape, our friends
returned to their vessels; we continuing to steer as before to the west,
while they stood away on the opposite tack. The plan seemed to be
giving our friends a chance of escaping, though we judged, from the way
the strange ships were sailing, that they were standing towards us. As,
however, the _Falcon_ was a fast ship, we still hoped to distance them.
Our hopes soon appeared likely to be vain. As the sun rose we saw the
strangers had gained upon us--the wind apparently favouring them more
than it did us. It had again begun to fall, and in a short time we were
becalmed, while they still stood on with their sails full. From some
reason, for which we could not account, several of them stood back again
towards the land, three only continuing the pursuit of us. But they
were fast vessels, and though we soon again got the wind, they continued
gaining on us. At length the breeze once more became favourable, and
with our sails spread, we stood away across the Channel, hotly pursued
by the strangers. Although they gained upon us, yet it was evident that
the chase would be a long one; and we hoped in the meantime that
something would happen in our favour. It was satisfactory also to
believe that our consorts, with the unhappy fugitives on board, had
escaped; for it was very certain that, had they been captured, the lives
of all would have been sacrificed. We trembled for the fate of the poor
people with us, for so barbarous were the orders issued by Alva, that
the commanders of any of his ships finding refugees on board, might,
without ceremony, either hang them to the yard-arms, or cast them into
the sea with weights round their feet, or shoot them as they floated
when thrown into the water.
Whether our captors, should we be overtaken, would venture to treat the
English on board the _Falcon_ in the same manner was doubtful; at the
same time, it was too probable that they would do so first and apologise
afterwards.
As to offering any resistance, that would certainly be useless. Master
Clough especially entreated that they would not. He, however, was far
from contented with the prospect of what was too likely to occur, as
even, should his life be spared, they would not scruple to take
possession of all his property, of which he had contrived to get a
considerable amount safe on board the _Falcon_.
Hour after hour we watched the strangers, calculating how much they had
gained upon us during the time. Every particle of canvas we could set
was spread, but all we could do would not drive her at a greater speed
through the water. If we could keep ahead during the whole of the day,
we might still, as we had before done, escape during the darkness. But
this was not probable. Long before that we should be within range of
the enemy's guns. It was a time of great trial to all of us, to the
unhappy refugees especially; yet we could do nothing but hope. Captain
Radford not only maintained his own serenity, but did his best to keep
up the courage of all on board.
Although we had little appetite, our meals were taken as usual. We had
gone below for that purpose, and were seated in the cabin, when the
sound of a gun was heard, and a sharp cry reached our ears from the
deck. A'Dale hurried up to inquire what was the matter.
"The enemy have fired, and one of our poor fellows has been hit," he
answered, coming back. "To escape is no longer possible. The captain
has, therefore, ordered the sails to be lowered, but advises that all
the passengers should remain below, lest when the enemy first come on
board they may be inclined to treat them roughly."
Although Captain Radford had shown that he had submitted, the enemy
continued firing as they approached, and not till they had got close to
us, and had hove to, did they cease attempting to injure us. Several
more of our people were hit, and two poor fellows killed outright. We
had no barber or surgeon on board, and it was sad to see the poor
fellows who were injured suffering without the means of helping them.
Some of the women did their best, however, having attended to their
friends wounded on different occasions by the Spaniards. A'Dale and I
could not resist going up on deck to ascertain how matters were
proceeding. Three boats from the leading ship of the enemy were
approaching us. The crews sprang on board, their officers demanding in
fierce tones why we had attempted to escape.
Captain Radford answered that his object was to make as quick a voyage
as he could to England, having British subjects on board, who desired to
reach their native land without delay.
"Let me see them immediately," answered the officer; and Master Clough
and the rest of his attendants were summoned on deck.
"They are returning to England, having received orders to quit the
Netherlands," observed Captain Radford, as he introduced them.
"But you have many more passengers: who are they?" inquired the officer.
"They are poor people desiring to settle in England," said Captain
Radford. "They came on board my ship, requesting a passage, and I saw
no reason to refuse them."
"In other words, they are rebels, escaping from the laws and justice of
their country!" exclaimed the officer. "I understand it all. It is
fortunate for you that you are an Englishman, and that our countries are
at peace, or you would very speedily be dangling at your yard-arm. As
it is, you will accompany us back to the nearest port in Flanders we can
make, where all your Flemish passengers must be landed, and such
property as belongs to them; and your ship will be confiscated, and you
yourself will have to undergo your trial for breaking the laws. If you
escape with your life, you will be fortunate; but I doubt it. Duke Alva
is determined to put a stop to the flight of King Philip's subjects from
his paternal sway."
We were very certain, from the way the officer spoke, that these threats
would be carried out. Worse, however, was to come. While he walked
aft, to speak to the next ship which was coming up, his men, I felt very
sure, with his full knowledge, dispersed themselves about the decks,
disarming our crew, and taking all articles which seemed to please them.
Drawing pistols from their belts, they placed them at the heads of our
people, and threatened to blow their brains out unless they gave up all
the money they possessed. Dreading what would next occur, A'Dale and I
hastened to the cabin, that we might protect the ladies from insult.
Our enemies having taken all the coin they could find on their
prisoners, now approached the cabin door, which we had bolted on the
inside. Thundering at it, they demanded admission. I replied from
within that it was the cabin devoted to the ladies, and that no
intruders could be admitted.
"Withdraw the bolts!" cried a voice from without, "or we will burst open
the door."
"Do so at your peril!" I answered. "The first person who makes his
appearance will meet his death."
Scarcely had I ceased speaking before some thundering blows were
inflicted on the door by handspikes. Fortunately the door was a strong
one, and resisted the efforts of those who were trying to break it open.
"Bring a crowbar, or a stout spar," I heard some one cry out; "we shall
then soon be able to force open the door!"
"I have told you, you will do so at your peril!" I shouted again.
The men outside laughed hoarsely at this threat. I felt indeed how
little we could do to oppose them. Our anxiety was yet further
increased by the shrieks and cries which came from other parts of the
ship. It was evident that the savages were ill-treating their
unfortunate prisoners. We could scarcely hope to meet with a better
fate. At length the laughter and the shouting outside the cabin door
increased. A'Dale and I stood with our drawn swords ready to attack any
who might approach. Some thundering blows on the door followed. It
creaked and groaned on its hinges, the panels gave way, and with a loud
crash it was burst open. Two seamen with savage looks were the first to
attempt to enter. Feeling sure that we should receive no mercy,
whatever we did, we at once ran them through with our swords, and they
fell at the entrance of the cabin. The others, seeing their fate, drew
back for an instant. We followed up our advantage.
"If any others wish to share the fate of these ruffians, let them come
on!" we cried out boldly.
Our assailants soon recovered from their surprise, and several shots
were fired into the cabin, filling it with smoke, under cover of which
they attempted again to force their way. The next two were treated as
had been the first. The shrieks and cries of Madam Clough and the poor
women within nearly unnerved us. However, we had resolved, if we could
not save them, to sell our lives dearly. We therefore stood at our
posts, prepared for the worst. Again our enemies pushed forward, led by
their boatswain, with a huge battle-axe in his hand. Fortunately he was
not able to wield it with due effect in the confined space of the cabin
entrance. A'Dale's sword, as he attempted to keep the ruffian at bay,
was struck down, and the man, again lifting his axe, was about to bring
it down with terrific force on A'Dale's head, when, springing forward, I
plunged my sword into his bosom. The fall of their leader seemed to
enrage the rest of the men, and with terrific execrations they again
made an attempt to force their way into the cabin.