II

My own pinnace arrived in sight of Funchal two mornings later, and a

little after sunrise. We had outsailed the Englishman, as I promised,

and lay off-and-on for more than two hours before he came up with us.

I knew that Count Zarco would be sitting at this time in the sunshine

before his house and above the fennel plain, hearing complaints and

administering justice: I knew, moreover, that he would recognise my

pinnace at once: and from time to time I laughed to myself to think

how this behaviour of ours must be puzzling my old friend.

Therefore I was not surprised to find him already arrived at the

quay when we landed; with a groom at a little distance holding his

magnificent black stallion. For I must tell you that my friend was

ever, and is to this day, a big man in all his ways--big of stature,

big of voice, big of heart, and big to lordliness in his notions of

becoming display. None but Zarco would have chosen for his title,

"Count of the Chamber of the Wolves," deriving it from a cave where

his men had started a herd of sea-calves on his first landing and

taking seizin of the island. And the black stallion he rode when

another would have been content with a mule; and the spray of fennel

in his hat; and the ribbon, without which he never appeared among his

dependents; were all a part of his large nature, which was guileless

and simple withal as any child's.

Now, for all my dislike, I had found the old Englishman a person

of some dignity and command: but it was wonderful how, in Zarco's

presence, he shrank to a withered creature, a mere applejack without

juice or savour. The man (I could see) was eager to get to business

at once, and could well have done without the ceremony of which Zarco

would not omit the smallest trifle. After the first salutations came

the formal escort to the Governor's house; and after that a meal which

lasted us two hours; and then the Count must have us visit his new

sugar-mills and inspect the Candia vines freshly pegged out, and

discuss them. On all manner of trifles he would invite Master

d'Arfet's opinion: but to show any curiosity or to allow his guests to

satisfy any, did not belong to his part of host--a part he played

with a thoroughness which diverted me while it drove the Englishman

well-nigh mad.

But late in the afternoon, and after we had worked our way through a

second prodigious meal, I had compassion on the poor man, and taking

(as we say) the bull by both horns, announced the business which had

brought us. At once Zarco became grave.

"My dear Bartholomew," said he, "you did right, of course, to bring

Master d'Arfet to me. But why did you show any hesitation?" Before I

could answer he went on: "Clearly, as the lady's husband, he has a

right to know what he seeks. She left him: but her act cannot annul

any rights of his which the Holy Church gave him, and of which, until

he dies, only the Holy Church can deprive him. He shall see Morales'

statement as we took it down in writing: but he should have the story

from the beginning: and since it is a long one, will you begin and

tell so much as you know?"

"If it please you," said I, and this being conveyed to Master d'Arfet,

while Zarco sent a servant with his keys for the roll of parchment, we

drew up our chairs to the table, and I began.

"It was in September, 1419," said I, "when the two captains, John

Gonsalvez Zarco and Tristram Vaz, returned to Lagos from their first

adventure in these seas. I was an equerry of our master, the Infante

Henry, at that time, and busy with him in rebuilding and enlarging the

old arsenal on the neck of Cape Sagres; whence, by his wisdom, so many

expeditions have been sent forth since to magnify God and increase the

knowledge of mankind.

"We had built already the chapel and the library, with its map-room,

and the Prince and I were busy there together on the plans for his

observatory in the late afternoon when the caravels were sighted: and

the news being brought, his Highness left me at work while he rode

down to the port to receive his captains. I was still working by

lamplight in the map-room when he returned, bringing them and a third

man, the old Spaniard Morales.

"Seating himself at the table, he bade me leave my plans, draw my

chair over, and take notes in writing of the captains' report. Zarco

told the story--he being first in command, and Tristram Vaz a silent

man, then and always: and save for a question here and there, the

Prince listened without comment, deferring to examine it until the

whole had been related.

"Now, in one way, the expedition had failed, for the caravels had been

sent to explore the African coast beyond Cape Bojador, and as far

south as might be; whereas they had scarcely put to sea before a

tempest drove them to the westward, and far from any coast at all.

Indeed, they had no hope left, nor any expectation but to founder,

when they sighted the island; and so came by God's blessing to the

harbour which, in their joy, they named Porto Santo. There, finding

their caravels strained beyond their means to repair for a long

voyage, and deeming that this discovery well outweighed their first

purpose, they stayed but a sufficient time to explore the island, and

so put back for Lagos. But their good fortune was not yet at an end:

for off the Barbary coasts they fell in with and captured a Spaniard

containing much merchandise and two score of poor souls ransomed out

of captivity with the Barbary corsairs. 'And among them,' said my

friend Gonsalvez, 'your Highness will find this one old man, if I

mistake not, to be worth the charges of two such expeditions as ours.'

"Upon this we all turned our eyes upon the Spaniard, who had been

shrinking back as if to avoid the lamplight. He must have been a

tall, up-standing man in his prime; but now, as Tristram Vaz drew him

forward, his knees bowed as if he cringed for some punishment. 'Twas

a shock, this fawning carriage of a figure so venerable: but when

Tristram Vaz drew off the decent doublet he wore and displayed his

back, we wondered no longer. Zarco pushed him into a chair and held

a lamp while the Prince examined the man's right foot, where an

ankle-ring had bitten it so that to his death (although it scarcely

hindered his walking) the very bone showed itself naked between the

healed edges of the wound.

"Moreover, when Zarco persuaded him to talk in Spanish it was some

while before we could understand more than a word or two here and

there. The man had spent close upon thirty years in captivity, and his

native speech had all but dried up within him. Also he had no longer

any thought of difference between his own country and another: it was

enough to be among Christians again: nor could we for awhile disengage

that which was of moment from the rambling nonsense with which he

wrapped it about. He, poor man! was concerned chiefly with his

own sufferings, while we were listening for our advantage: yet as

Christians we forbore while he muttered on, and when a word or two

fell from him which might be of service, we recalled him to them (I

believe) as gently as we could.

"Well, the chaff being sifted away, the grain came to this: His name

was Morales, his birthplace Cadiz, his calling that of pilot: he had

fallen (as I have said) into the hands of the Moors about thirty years

before: and at Azamor, or a little inland, he had made acquaintance

with a fellow-prisoner, an Englishman, by name Roger Prince, or

Prance. This man had spent the best part of his life in captivity, and

at one time had changed his faith to get better usage: but his first

master dying at a great age, he passed to another, who cruelly

ill-treated him, and under whose abominable punishments he quickly

sank. He lay, indeed, at the point of death when Morales happened upon

him. Upon some small act of kindness such as one slave may do for

another, the two had made friends: and thus Morales came to hear the

poor Englishman's story."

Here I broke off and nodded to the Count, who called for a lamp. And

so for a few minutes we all sat without speech in the twilight, the

room silent save for the cracking of Master d'Arfet's knuckles. When

at length the lamp arrived, Zarco trimmed it carefully, unfolded his

parchment, spread it on the table, and began to read very deliberately

in his rolling voice, pausing and looking up between the sentences

while the man Martin translated--

"_This is the statement made to me by Roger Prance, the Englishman,

Anno MCCCCIX., at various times in the month before he died_.

"He said: My name is Roger Prance. I come from St. Lawrence on the

River Jo,[A] in England. From a boy I followed the sea in the ships

of Master Canynge,[B] of Bristol, sailing always from that port with

cargoes of wool, and mostly to the Baltic, where we filled with

stock-fish: but once we went south to your own city of Cadiz, and

returned with wines and a little spice purchased of a Levantine

merchant in the port. My last three voyages were taken in the _Mary

Radclyf_ or _Redcliffe_. One afternoon" [the year he could not

remember, but it may have been 1373 or 1374] "I was idle on the Quay

near Vyell's tower, when there comes to me Gervase Hankock, master,

and draws me aside, and says he: 'The vessel will be ready sooner than

you think,' and named the time--to wit, by the night next following.

Now I, knowing that she had yet not any cargo on board, thought him

out of his mind: but said he, 'It is a secret business, and double pay

for you if you are ready and hold your tongue between this and then.'

[Footnote A: Wick St. Lawrence on the Yeo, in Somerset.]

[Footnote B: Grandfather of the famous merchant, William Canynge.]

"So at the time he named I was ready with the most of our old crew,

and all wondering; with the ship but half ballasted as she came from

the Baltic and her rigging not seen to, but moored down between the

marshes at the opening of the River Avon.

"At ten o'clock then comes a whistle from the shore, and anon in a

shore-boat our master with a young man and woman well wrapped, and

presently cuts the light hawser we rode by; and so we dropped down

upon the tide and were out to sea by morning.

"All this time we knew nothing of our two passengers; nor until we

were past the Land's End did they come on deck. But when they did, it

was hand in hand and as lovers; the man a mere youngster, straight,

and gentle in feature and dress, but she the loveliest lady your

eyes ever looked upon. One of our company, Will Tamblyn, knew her at

once--as who would not that had once seen her?--and he cried out with

an oath that she was Mistress d'Arfet, but newly married to a rich

man a little to the north of Bristol. Afterwards, when Master Gervase

found that we knew so much, he made no difficulty to tell us more; as

that the name of her lover was Robert Machin or Macham, a youth of

good family, and that she it was who had hired the ship, being an

heiress in her own right.

"We held southward after clearing the land; with intent, as I suppose,

to make one of the Breton ports. But about six leagues from the French

coast a tempest overtook us from the north-east and drove us beyond

Channel, and lasted with fury for twelve days, all of which time we

ran before it, until on the fourteenth day we sighted land where never

we looked to find any, and came to a large island, thickly wooded,

with high mountains in the midst of it.

"Coasting this island we soon arrived off a pretty deep bay, lined

with cedar-trees: and here Master Machin had the boat lowered and bore

his mistress to land: for the voyage had crazed her, and plainly her

time for this world was not long. Six of us went with them in the

boat, the rest staying by the ship, which was anchored not a mile from

shore. There we made for the poor lady a couch of cedar-boughs with a

spare sail for awning, and her lover sat beside her for two nights and

a day, holding of her hand and talking with her, and wiping her lips

or holding the cup to them when she moaned in her thirst. But at dawn

of the second day she died.

"Then we, who slept on the beach at a little distance, being waked by

his terrible cry, looked up and supposed he had called out for the

loss of the ship. Because the traitors on board of her, considering

how that they had the lady's wealth, had weighed or slipped anchor in

the night (for certainly there was not wind enough to drag by), and

now the ship was nowhere in sight. But when we came to Master Machin

he took no account of our news: only he sat like a statue and stared

at the sea, and then at his dead lady, and 'Well,' he said; 'is she

gone?' We knew not whether he meant the lady or the ship: nor would he

taste any food though we offered it, but turned his face away.

"So that evening we buried the body, and five days later we buried

Master Machin beside her, with a wooden cross at their heads. Then,

not willing to perish on the island, we caught and killed four of the

sheep which ran wild thereon, and having stored the boat with their

flesh (and it was bitter to taste), and launched it, steered, as well

as we could contrive, due east. And so on the eleventh day we were

cast on the coast near to Mogador: but two had died on the way. Here

(for we were starving and could offer no fight) some Moors took us,

and carrying us into the town, sold us into that slavery in which I

have passed all my miserable life since. What became of the _Mary

Radclyf_ I have never heard: nor of the three who came ashore with me

have I had tidings since the day we were sold."

Here Zarco came to the end of his reading: and facing again on Master

d'Arfet (who sat pulling his fingers while his mouth worked as if he

chewed something) I took up the tale.

"All this, Sir, by little and little the pilot Morales told us, there

in the Prince's map-room: and you may be sure we kept it to ourselves.

But the next spring our royal master must fit out two caravels to

colonise Porto Santo; with corn and honey on board, and sugar-canes

and vines and (that ever I should say it!) rabbits. Gonsalvez was

leader, of course, with Tristram Vaz: and to my great joy the Prince

appointed me third in command.

"We sailed from Lagos in June and reached Porto Santo without mishap.

Here Gonsalvez found all well with the colonists he had left behind on

his former visit. But of one thing they were as eager to tell as of

their prosperity: and we had not arrived many hours before they led us

to the top of the island and pointed to a dark line of cloud (as it

seemed) lying low in the south-west. They had kept watch on this (they

said) day by day, until they had made certain it could not be a cloud,

for it never altered its shape. While we gazed at it I heard the

pilot's voice say suddenly at my shoulder, 'That will be the island,

Captain--the Englishman's island!' and I turned and saw that he was

trembling. But Gonsalvez, who had been musing, looked up at him

sharply. 'All my life' said he, 'I have been sailing the seas, yet

never saw landfall like yonder. That which we look upon is cloud and

not land.' 'But who,' I asked, 'ever saw a fixed cloud?' 'Marry, I for

one,' he answered, 'and every seaman who has sailed beside Sicily! But

say nothing to the men; for if they believe a volcano lies yonder we

shall hardly get them to cross.' 'Yet,' said Morales, 'by your leave,

Captain, that is no volcano, but such a cloud as might well rest over

the thick moist woodlands of which the Englishman told me.' 'Well,

that we shall discover by God's grace,' Gonsalvez made answer. 'You

will cross thither?' I asked. 'Why to be sure,' said he cheerfully,

with a look at Tristram Vaz; and Tristram Vaz nodded, saying nothing.

"Yet he had no easy business with his sailors, who had quickly made up

their own minds about this cloud and that it hung over a pit of fire.

One or two had heard tell of Cipango, and allowed this might be that

lost wandering land. 'But how can we tell what perils await us there?'

'Marry, by going and finding out,' growled Tristram Vaz, and this was

all the opinion he uttered. As for Morales, they would have it he was

a Castilian, a foreigner, and only too eager to injure us Portuguese.

"But Gonsalvez had enough courage for all: and on the ninth morning he

and Tristram set sail, with their crews as near mutiny as might be.

Me they left to rule Porto Santo. 'And if we never come back,' said

Gonsalvez, 'you will tell the Prince that _something_ lies yonder

which we would have found, but our men murdered us on the way--'"

"My dear brother Bartholomew," Gonsalvez broke in, "you are wearying

Master d'Arfet, who has no wish to hear about me." And taking up the

tale he went on: "We sailed, Sir, after six hours into as thick a fog

as I have met even on these seas, and anon into a noise of breakers

which seemed to be all about us. So I prayed to the Mother of Heaven

and kept the lead busy, and always found deep water: and more by God's

guidance than our management we missed the Desertas, where a tall bare

rock sprang out of the fog so close on our larboard quarter that the

men cried out it was a giant in black armour rising out of the waves.

So we left it and the noises behind, and by-and-by I shifted the helm

and steered towards the east of the bank, which seemed to me not so

thick thereabouts: and so the fog rolled up and we saw red cliffs and

a low black cape, which I named the Cape of St. Lawrence. And beyond

this, where all appeared to be marshland, we came to a forest shore

with trees growing to the water's edge and filling the chasms between

the cliffs. We were now creeping along the south of the island, and in

clearer weather, but saw no good landing until Morales shouted aft to

me that we were opening the Gulf of Cedars. Now I, perceiving some

recess in the cliffs which seemed likely to give a fair landing, let

him have his way: for albeit we could never win it out of him in

words, I knew that the Englishman must have given him some particular

description of the place, from the confidence he had always used in

speaking of it. So now we had cast anchor, and were well on our way

shoreward in the boat before I could be certain what manner of trees

clothed this Gulf: but Morales never showed doubt or hesitancy; and

being landed, led us straight up the beach and above the tide-mark to

the foot of a low cliff, where was a small pebbled mound and a plain

cross of wood. And kneeling beside them I prayed for the souls' rest

of that lamentable pair, and so took seizin of the island in the names

of our King John, Prince Henry, and the Order of Christ. That, Sir, is

the story, and I will not weary you by telling how we embarked again

and came to this plain which lies at our feet. So much as I believe

will concern you you have heard: and the grave you shall look upon

to-morrow."

Master d'Arfet had left off cracking his joints, and for a while after

the end of the story sat drumming with his finger-tips on the table.

At length he looked up, and says he--

"I may suppose, Count Zarco, that as governor of this island you have

power to allot and sell estates upon it on behalf of the King of

Portugal?"

"Why, yes," answered Gonsalvez; "any new settler in Funchal must make

his purchase through me: the northern province of Machico I leave to

Tristram Vaz."

"I speak of your southern province, and indeed of its foreshore, the

possession of which I suppose to be claimed by the crown of Portugal."

"That is so."

"To be precise I speak of this Gulf of Cedars, as you call it. You

will understand that I have not seen it: I count on your promise to

take me thither to-morrow. But it may save time, and I shall take

it as a favour if--without binding yourself or me to any immediate

bargain--you can give me some notion of the price you would want for

it. But perhaps"--here he lifted his eyes from the table and glanced

at Gonsalvez cunningly--"you have already conveyed that parcel of

land, and I must deal with another."

Now Gonsalvez had opened his mouth to say something, but here

compressed his lips for a moment before answering.

"No: it is still in my power to allot."

"In England just now," went on Master d'Arfet "we should call ten

shillings an acre good rent for unstocked land. We take it at sixpence

per annum rent and twenty years' purchase. I am speaking of reasonably

fertile land, and hardly need to point out that in offering any

such price for mere barren foreshore I invite you to believe me

half-witted. But, as we say at home, he who keeps a fancy must pay a

tax for it: and a man of my age with no heir of his body can afford to

spend as he pleases."

Gonsalvez stared at him, and from him to me, with a puzzled frown.

"Bartholomew," said he, "I cannot understand this gentleman. What can

he want to purchase in the Gulf of Cedars but his wife's grave? And

yet of such a bargain how can he speak as he has spoken?"

I shook my head. "It must be that he is a merchant, and is too old to

speak but as a haggler. Yet I am sure his mind works deeper than this

haggling." I paused, with my eyes upon Master d'Arfet's hands, which

were hooked now like claws over the table which his fingers still

pressed: and this gesture of his put a sudden abominable thought in my

mind. "Yes, he wishes to buy his wife's grave. Ask him--" I cried, and

with that I broke off.

But Gonsalvez nodded. "I know," said he softly, and turned to the

Englishman. "Your desire Sir, is to buy the grave I spoke of?"

Master d'Arfet nodded.

"With what purpose? Come, Sir, your one chance is to be plain with us.

It may be the difference in our race hinders my understanding you: it

may be I am a simple captain and unused to the ways and language of

the market. In any case put aside the question of price, for were

that all between us I would say to you as Ephron the Hittite said

to Abraham. 'Hear me, my lord,' I would say, 'what is four hundred

shekels of silver betwixt me and thee? Bury therefore thy dead.' But

between you and me is more than this: something I cannot fathom. Yet

I must know it before consenting. I demand, therefore, what is your

purpose?"

Master d'Arfet met him straightly enough with those narrow eyes of

his, and said he, "My purpose, Count, is as simple as you describe

your mind to be. Honest seaman, I desire that grave only that I may be

buried in it."

"Then my thought did you wrong, Master d'Arfet, and I crave your

pardon. The grave is yours without price. You shall rest in the end

beside the man and woman who wronged you, and at the Last Day, when

you rise together, may God forgive you as you forgave them!"

The Englishman did not answer for near a minute. His fingers had begun

to drum on the table again and his eyes were bent upon them. At length

he raised his head, and this time to speak slowly and with effort--

"In my country, Count, a bargain is a bargain. When I seek a parcel of

ground, my purpose with it is my affair only: my neighbour fixes his

price, and if it suit me I buy, and there's an end. Now I have passed

my days in buying and selling and you count me a huckster. Yet we

merchants have our rules of honour as well as you nobles: and if in

England I bargain as I have described, it is because between me and

the other man the rules are understood. But I perceive that between

you and me the bargain must be different, since you sell on condition

of knowing my purpose, and would not sell if my purpose offended

you. Therefore to leave you in error concerning my purpose would be

cheating: and, Sir, I have never cheated in my life. At the risk then,

or the certainty, of losing my dearest wish I must tell you this--_I

do not forgive my wife Anne or Robert Machin_: and though I would be

buried in their grave, it shall not be beside them."

"How then?" cried Gonsalvez and I in one voice.

"I would be buried, Sirs, not beside but between them. Ah? Your eyes

were moist, I make no doubt, when you first listened to the pretty

affecting tale of their love and misfortune? Not yet has it struck

either of you to what a hell they left _me_. And I have been living in

it ever since! Think! I loved that woman. She wronged me hatefully,

meanly: yet she and he died together, feeling no remorse. It is I who

keep the knowledge of their vileness which shall push them asunder as

I stretch myself at length in my cool dead ease, content, with my long

purpose achieved, with the vengeance prepared, and nothing to do but

wait securely for the Day of Judgment. Pardon me, Sirs, that I say

'this shall be,' whereas I read in your faces that you refuse me. I

have cheered an unhappy life by this one promise, which at the end I

have thrown away upon a little scruple." He passed a hand over his

eyes and stood up. "It is curious," he said, and stood musing. "It is

curious," he repeated, and turning to Gonsalvez said in a voice empty

of passion, "You refuse me, I understand?"

"Yes," Gonsalvez answered. "I salute you for an honest gentleman; but

I may not grant your wish."

"It is curious," Master d'Arfet repeated once more, and looked at us

queerly, as if seeking to excuse his weakness in our judgment. "So

small a difficulty!"

Gonsalvez bowed. "You have taught us this, Sir, that the world speaks

at random, but in the end a man's honour rests in no hands but his

own."

Master d'Arfet waited while Martin translated; then he put out a hand

for his staff, found it, turned on his heel and tottered from the

room, the interpreter following with a face which had altered nothing

during our whole discourse.

* * * * *

Master d'Arfet sailed at daybreak, having declined Gonsalvez' offer

to show him the grave. My old friend insisted that I must stay a week

with him, and from the terrace before his house we watched the English

pinnace till she rounded the point to eastward and disappeared.

"After all," said I, "we treated him hardly."

But Gonsalvez said: "A husk of a man! All the blood in him sour! And

yet," he mused, "the husk kept him noble after a sort."

And he led me away to the warm slopes to see how his young vines were

doing.