At three in the morning all on board the galley were astir. A ration
of bread and meat was served out to the slaves, and the boat was soon
afterwards under way. The rowers of the English knight's boat had been
warmly commended by the commander and placed in charge of the overseer,
with instructions that they were to be treated as free men. As soon as
the galley slaves set to work, however, they seated themselves on
the benches and double banked some of the oars, anxious to please the
knights. With the exception of those whose turn it was to be on watch,
most of the knights slept until daybreak.
“At the rate we are rowing, Gervaise,” Harcourt said, as they went up
on to the poop together, “it will not take us very long to join our
friends. We are going through the water at fully six miles an hour; and
as we have already been two hours under way, in another three we shall
be there.”
An hour and a half later they passed the island where they had landed.
The two young knights pointed out to the others the valley into which
they had descended, and the point round which they had swum. In a few
minutes they caught sight of the landing place.
“Look, Gervaise, there is something black showing just above the water.”
“I see it. I think it is a line of timbers. There were certainly no
rocks there when we ran ashore.”
“Then Santoval must have found the craft still there and burnt her,” one
of the knights standing by remarked, “and the pirates are caged up. It
will take them some time to make a raft that will carry them to the next
island, and before they can do that we shall be back again. I shall be
sorry if they escape, for they are as ruthless a set of villains as sail
the seas.”
The galley had traversed half the remaining distance when the sound of
a gun was faintly heard. For a moment there was an absolute hush on the
poop; then three or four shots in rapid succession were heard.
“Some more pirate ships must have come up,” the commander exclaimed.
Then he shouted down to the slaves, “Row, men--row for your lives!
Overseer, do not spare your lash if any hang back from their work.”
The galley had been travelling fast before, but her speed greatly
increased as the slaves rowed their hardest. Fast as she was travelling,
the impatience of the knights was extreme. They walked up and down the
deck, making vows of candles that should be burnt at the shrine of St.
John if they arrived in time to take a share in the fight, stopping at
times to listen to the sound of artillery, which was now so frequent as
to show that a severe engagement was being fought. Many of the younger
knights ran down to the waist and double banked the oars, and in a
shorter time than it seemed possible the galley arrived at the mouth of
the bay.
A desperate fight was going on. Ricord's ship lay, idle and deserted,
at anchor. Five pirate crafts surrounded Santoval's galley. Two of them
were alongside of her; the others were raking her fore and aft with
their shot. The young knights left the oars, sprang up to the poop and
joined in the shout of encouragement raised by the others, and then,
resuming their helmets and armour, stood ready to leap on board an enemy
as soon as they reached her. Piccolomini directed the helmsman to lay
him alongside one of the ships grappling with Santoval. As they came up,
their galley's cannon poured their fire into her, and a moment later the
knights sprang on board.
In the din of battle their shout had been unheard. The pirates thronging
the other side of their ship were intent only on overcoming the
resistance of the knights, and even the discharge of cannon had not
called their attention to their foe, until the latter, shouting the war
cry of the Order, fell suddenly upon them. A panic at once seized them.
Some were cut down almost unresistingly, but the great majority, running
to the bow or stern, threw themselves overboard and swam to the other
ships. The pirate ship on the other side of Santoval's galley instantly
threw off the grapnels and thrust off from her side, and, immediately
hauling in the sheets of the big sail, began at once to draw away, while
her three consorts made for the mouth of the bay.
“Back to your galley, comrades,” Piccolomini shouted, “or with this
brisk wind they will escape us.”
The knights at once crossed on to their own craft, the oars were got
out, and the chase began. A minute or two later Don Santoval followed
them, but soon gave up, as so large a number of the oars had been broken
when the two pirate ships ran alongside him, that it would have been
hopeless to pursue. The wind was blowing freshly, and was rapidly
increasing in strength, so that, in spite of the efforts of the galley
slaves, the pirates gradually drew away, running straight before
the wind, and aiding the effects of the sails with oars. Seeing the
hopelessness of the chase, Piccolomini abandoned it, after rowing for
two miles, and returned to the island. The other two galleys were lying
beside each other, and Piccolomini had his craft steered alongside them.
“Thanks, Piccolomini, for arriving so opportunely,” Santoval, who was
seated on the deck leaning against the bulwarks, said, as his fellow
commander leapt on board, and came towards him.
“Would that I had arrived sooner, Santoval, for I see that you have been
grievously wounded!”
“Ay. One of the paynims' cannonballs has carried off both my legs below
the knee. The leech has been searing the wounds with a hot iron, and
says that he thinks I shall get over it; but if so I fear that my
fighting days are past, unless, indeed, I fight seated on a chair.
However, I ought not to grumble. I have lost many brave comrades, and
others are wounded more sorely than I am.”
Sir Louis Ricord now joined them. He embraced Piccolomini warmly.
“I never heard a more welcome shout, Piccolomini, than that which you
gave when you fell upon the Moslems, for in truth the issue of the
conflict was doubtful. I was delighted when this morning at daybreak
Santoval's galley rowed in. We had all kept watch during the night,
thinking the pirates might obtain boats and make an attack upon us; and,
with but twenty of us fit to wield a sword, our position would have been
a bad one, and at any rate they might have recaptured the prizes. We
agreed that Santoval and his knights should land at once. This they did.
Sir John Boswell had of course told me how his boat had been chased by
a fishing craft, manned by a large number of the pirates, and that he
feared the rest might similarly have escaped, and might have gone to
bring some more of Hassan Ali's ships upon us.
“As soon as Santoval landed, some of the natives came down and told him
that there was not a pirate remaining there, the rest having started
in another boat a few minutes after the one that had chased Boswell.
Santoval left two of his men with orders to ascend to the highest spot
on the island, and to keep watch, and then brought the rest off to
his galley. Our first step was, of course, to send all the women and
children ashore. Then we consulted as to what had best be done if the
pirates should come back in force. We hoped, at any rate, that this
would not happen until you arrived. We expected that you would be here
before noon; but we decided that, should they get here before you, we
from our galley would embark on Santoval's, as it was better to fight in
one strongly manned boat than to divide our forces.
“It was scarce half an hour after Santoval came down before the men left
on the lookout appeared on the beach. On fetching them off, they told us
that as soon as they reached the top of the hill they saw five vessels
approaching with sails and oars, and that they would be here in half an
hour at the outside. We at once abandoned my galley, brought the rowers
and the wounded here, and prepared for the fight. As you saw, they ran
their two biggest ships alongside us, and for two hours the fight went
on. They were crowded with men, who in vain strove to get a footing on
our decks. Had we only had these two to deal with, we should have had
nothing to fear, heavily manned though they were; but the other three
kept sailing backwards and forwards, discharging their guns into us as
they passed, firing not only shot, but bags of bullets.
“Their gunners were skilful, and, as you see, they have completely
riddled our poop. Twenty knights have been killed, and eleven others are
sorely wounded. Scarce one has escaped unscathed. You may guess, then,
how welcome was your aid, which we had not expected for another three
hours. We were on the point of abandoning the waist and gathering on the
poop, which we could still have defended for a considerable time, when,
as if dropped from the skies, you fell upon the pirates, and turned the
tables. How is it that you were here so early?”
“We started at three o'clock, instead of waiting for daybreak. It
seemed, from the story of the two young knights, that it was possible
you might be attacked early, and, crippled as your command was, and with
four prizes on your hands, I deemed it best to come on as soon as the
rowers had had a few hours' rest.”
“It is well that you did so; it would have been a grievous affair had
two of our galleys been captured by the pirates. It would have been a
blow to the prestige of the Order, and would have brought such strength
to Hassan Ali and other pirate leaders that nothing short of sending out
a fleet would have recovered our ascendancy; and as every ducat we
can spare has to be spent on the fortifications, it would have been a
misfortune indeed had we been obliged to fit out such an expedition at
present.”
“Who have fallen, Sir Louis?”
“Five more of the knights of my galley--Pierre des Vignes, Raoul de
Montpelier, Ernest Schmidt, Raymond Garcia, and Albert Schenck. Here is
the list of the knights of Santoval's galley.”
“'Tis a long list, and a sad one,” Piccolomini said, after reading
the names. “With the seven who fell in your first fight, twenty-seven
knights have fallen, all brave comrades. Truly, we can ill spare such
a loss. It is true there are five prizes to show for it, and we have
struck Hassan Ali a blow that will resound through the Levant; but the
cost is heavy.”
“It is indeed,” Ricord agreed. “The four vessels are well filled with
rich spoil that the scoundrels had gathered, and I doubt not the one you
captured is equally rich. Still, had they been ten times as valuable,
the booty would be dearly purchased at such a price.”
There was now a consultation among the leaders, and it was agreed that
six knights should be placed in each of the captured ships, with ten of
the galley slaves to work the sails, the others being equally divided
between the three galleys. They were, in the first place, to row to the
island where the pirates were imprisoned, and to slay or capture the
whole of them; afterwards they were to make direct for Rhodes; with
so numerous a fleet there was no fear of their being attacked. The
arrangements took but a short time to complete. An hour later they left
the port, the three galleys rowing ahead, while the five prizes, under
easy sail, followed them.
Sir John Boswell had been wounded, but not so seriously as to altogether
disable him, and he was in command of one of the prizes, having Sir
Adam Tedbond, Harcourt, Gervaise, and a German knight, with him. Sir
Marmaduke Lumley, who, after the first fight was over, was found, to the
surprise and pleasure of his comrades, to be still living, was, with the
rest of the wounded, on board one of the galleys. Two of the pirates
had fallen dead across him, and in the ardour of their attack on the
knights, he had lain there unnoticed until the return of Sir Louis and
his comrades had driven the pirates overboard. The leech was of opinion
that he might yet recover from his wound.
On arriving at the island, sixty of the knights disembarked. The woods
near the shore were first searched, but were found untenanted. They were
about to advance up the hill when a man appeared on the crest above them
waving a white flag. He was told to come down, and on his arrival said
that he was sent by his companions to offer to surrender, on the promise
that their lives should be spared. The knights were well pleased to be
saved the trouble of a long search through the woods, and the messenger
left at once to acquaint the pirates that their terms were accepted. In
a short time some eighty men made their way down the hill. On reaching
the beach they were disarmed, divided equally between the galleys, and
distributed among the rowers, filling up the places of those who had
been killed by the fire of the Moslems, and of the men drafted into the
prizes. They begged for food and water before they began work, and, on
being questioned, admitted that their surrender was due principally
to the fact that they had been unable to find food of any sort on the
island, and that after searching all over it no spring of water could be
discovered.
“In that case,” Sir John Boswell said, “I have no doubt they have all
surrendered. I before thought it probable that a good many of them would
have remained hidden, trusting to be able to make a raft after we
had left, and so get away, believing rightly enough that we should be
disinclined to search every foot of the island for them. As it is, I
doubt not, all are here.”
The little fleet anchored that night at the rendezvous, and after two
more days' rowing reached Rhodes, where the appearance of the three
galleys, followed by their five prizes, was greeted with great
acclamation. The news, however, that twenty-seven knights had fallen,
and that thirteen or fourteen others were very gravely wounded, damped
the satisfaction that every one had at first felt. D'Aubusson came
down as soon as they reached the mole, and was greatly affected when he
received Ricord's report.
“It is an unfortunate loss indeed, Sir Louis,” he said, “though it may
be that the victory is not too dearly purchased. I do not speak of the
captured ships, nor of the spoil they contain, nor even of the slaves
you have brought us, welcome though all may be, but of the effect that
the defeat and capture of these craft of Hassan Ali's will have. It is
plain that the preparations the sultan is making, and the belief that
Rhodes is doomed, have so encouraged the infidels that they are becoming
really formidable at sea. This blow will show them that the Order has
yet power to sweep the sea of pirates. Since, however, this adventure
has taught us that a single leader like Hassan sails with at least nine
ships under his orders, it is clear that in future our galleys must not
adventure singly among the islands. It was fortunate indeed that first
Santoval, and then Piccolomini, arrived to your assistance. How was it
that they happened to come up so opportunely?”
“Sir John Boswell, with Ralph Harcourt and Gervaise Tresham; went in
a boat to the rendezvous we had arranged, and reached it after an
adventure, which I will leave Sir John to tell himself. I may say that
the two young knights named had in our encounter both obtained very high
credit amongst us all for the valour with which they fought. No one bore
himself more stoutly, and I am glad to take this early opportunity of
bringing their conduct before your notice. As you will learn from Sir
John, Gervaise Tresham afterwards showed a quickness of wit that was the
means of saving the lives of those with him, and I may say also of all
with me, for had they failed to reach the rendezvous we should have
fallen easy victims to the five ships Hassan Ali brought against us.”
Sending for Sir John Boswell, the grand prior heard from him the details
of his adventure in the boat.
“I am right glad to hear you speak so warmly of Tresham, Sir John, for I
regard him as my special protege, and am pleased indeed to find that at
this outset of his career he has proved himself not only a brave knight,
but full of resource, and quick at invention. I think, Sir John, that
these two young knights have shown themselves well worthy of receiving
the honour of secular knighthood.”
“Assuredly they have,” Sir John agreed.
“Then, Sir John, will you bestow it upon them? The Order, as an Order,
does not bestow the honour, but its members do not forfeit their right
as knights to bestow it individually, and none among us are more worthy
of admitting them to your rank than yourself.”
“I would gladly do it, Sir Peter; but the honour would come far better
from yourself, and would not only be more highly prized by them, but
would be of greater value in the eyes of others. I am but a simple
knight commander of the Order, and my name would scarce be known beyond
its ranks. But to be knighted by one whose name is known and honoured
throughout Europe would give them a standing wherever they went, and
place them on a level with the best.”
“If that is your opinion, Boswell, I will myself undertake it, and
will do it at once; it were better done here than at a conclave of the
Order--now, when they are fresh from the battle. Let the knights be
summoned from the other galleys at once.”
In a few minutes the whole of the knights were assembled on the poop of
the galley.
“Friends, and brother knights,” D'Aubusson said. “First, in the name
of the Order, I have to thank you all most heartily for the brave deeds
that you have performed, and for the fresh honour you have won for it.
Every man has, as I learn from the three commanders, borne himself as
a true and valiant knight, ready to give his life in the cause of the
Order and of humanity. Two names have been specially brought before me
by commander Ricord, and by the good knight Sir John Boswell; they are
those of two young companions who, though knights of our Order, have not
yet received secular knighthood, and this, in the opinion of these
two knights, they have right worthily won. Sir Ralph Harcourt and Sir
Gervaise Tresham, step forward.”
The two young knights, colouring with pleasure at this unexpected
honour, removed their helmets, and stood with bowed heads before the
grand prior. D'Aubusson went on, turning to the knights around him, “I
am about, comrades, to undertake the office of knighting them. Sir
Louis Ricord and Sir John Boswell stand as their sponsors. But before I
proceed I would ask you all whether you, too, approve, and hold that Sir
Ralph Harcourt and Sir Gervaise Tresham have proved themselves worthy of
the honour of secular knighthood at my hands?”
There was a general reply in the affirmative, the answer of the
survivors of Ricord's crew being specially emphatic. The grand prior
drew his sword, and the two young knights knelt before him, their
sponsors standing beside them.
“Sir Ralph Harcourt, you have now been four years a knight of this
Order, but hitherto you have had no opportunity of drawing sword against
the infidels. Now that the chance has come, you have proved yourself a
true and valiant brother of the Order, and well worthy of the secular
accolade. It is in that capacity that I now knight you. It is not the
grand prior of Auvergne, but Sir Peter D'Aubusson, of the grand cross of
St. Louis, who now bestows upon you the honour of secular knighthood.”
He touched him lightly with the sword. He then turned to Gervaise.
“You, Sir Gervaise Tresham, are young indeed to receive the honour of
secular knighthood; but valour is of no age, and in the opinion of
your commanders, and in that of your comrades, you have proved yourself
worthy of the honour. You have shown too, that, as Sir John Boswell has
related to me, you are not only brave in action, but able, in the moment
of danger, to plan and to execute. You were, he tells me, the means of
saving his life and that of your comrade, and, by thus enabling him to
bear to the place of rendezvous the news of Sir Louis's danger, were
also the means of saving the lives of Sir Louis and his companions,
and of bringing home in safety the prizes he had taken. With such a
beginning it is easy to foresee that you will win for yourself some day
a distinguished position in the ranks of the Order, and are most worthy
of the honour I now bestow upon you.” And he touched him with his sword.
The two young knights rose to their feet, bowed deeply to D'Aubusson,
and then retired, with their sponsors. They were at once surrounded by
the knights, who shook them by the hand, and warmly congratulated
them upon the honour that had befallen them, receiving equally warm
congratulations on their arrival at the auberge of the langue.
The five prizes turned out, when their cargoes were landed, to be much
more valuable than the cursory examination made by the knights had
warranted them in expecting. They contained, indeed, an accumulation of
the most valuable contents of the prizes taken by the pirates for a long
time previously; and as these desperadoes preyed upon Turkish
commerce as well as Christian, the goods consisted largely of Eastern
manufactures of all kinds. Costly robes, delicate embroidery, superb
carpets, shawls, goldsmiths' work, and no small amount of jewels, were
among the spoil collected, and the bulk of the merchandise captured was,
two days later, despatched in galleys to Genoa and Marseilles, to be
sold for the benefit of the Order.
D'Aubusson without hesitation carried out Sir John Boswell's promise to
the slaves who had rowed his boat. They were not only set at liberty,
but were each presented with a sum of money, and were placed on board a
galley, and landed on the mainland.
The English knights were all proud of the honour that had been won by
their young countrymen, the only exception being Robert Rivers, who was
devoured with jealousy at their advancement. He did not openly display
his feelings, for the reports not only of Sir John Boswell, but of the
other two English knights, were so strong that he dared not express
his discontent. He himself had twice been engaged with pirates, but
had gained no particular credit, and indeed had, in the opinion of his
comrades, been somewhat slack in the fray. He was no favourite in the
auberge, though he spared no pains to ingratiate himself with the senior
knights, and had a short time before been very severely reprimanded by
the bailiff for striking one of the servants.
“I have more than once had to reprove you for your manners to the
servants,” the bailiff said. “You will now be punished by the septaine;
you will fast for seven days, on Wednesday and Friday you will receive
bread and water only, and will be confined to the auberge for that
period. The next time that I have reason to complain of you, I shall
bring the matter before the grand master, and represent to him that it
were best to send you home, since you cannot comport yourself to the
servants of the auberge as befits a knight of the Order. We have always
borne the reputation of being specially kind to our servants, and it
is intolerable that one, who has been but a short time only a professed
knight, should behave with a hauteur and insolence that not even the
oldest among us would permit himself. There is not one of the servants
here who was not in his own country of a rank and station equal, if not
superior, to your own; and though misfortune has fallen upon them, they
are to be pitied rather than condemned for it. In future, you are to
give no order whatever to the servants, nor to address them, save when
at meals you require anything. If you have any complaints to make of
their conduct to you, you will make them to me, and I will inquire into
the matter; and if I find they have failed in their duty they will be
punished. I shall keep my eye upon you in the future. There are other
faults that I have observed in you. More than once I have heard you
address Sir Gervaise Tresham in a manner which, were not duelling
forbidden by our rules, might bring about bloodshed; and from what I
have seen when I have been watching the exercises, he is as much your
superior in arms as he is in manner and disposition.”
This reproof had greatly subdued Robert Rivers; and as he felt that
any display of his jealousy of Gervaise would be resented by the
other knights, and might result in serious consequences to himself, he
abstained from any exhibition of it when they returned to the auberge,
although he could not bring himself to join in the congratulations
offered to them. The next day, however, when he was talking to Ralph
Harcourt, he remarked, “From what I hear, Harcourt, D'Aubusson praised
young Tresham very highly. It seems to me that there was nothing at all
out of the way in what he did, and it was very unfair that he should be
selected for higher praise than yourself.”
“It was not unfair at all,” Ralph said warmly, for he was of a generous
nature, and incapable of the base feeling of envy. “Tresham did a great
deal more than I did. When we saw the pirate boat gaining so fast upon
us, it seemed to Sir John Boswell, as well as to myself, that there was
scarce a chance of escape, and that all we could do was to choose a spot
on which to make a stand, and then to sell our lives as dearly as we
could. I could see that Sir John was scanning the hill for a spot where
we could best defend ourselves. As to hiding on so small an island, with
a hundred men eager for our blood searching for us, it was well nigh
impossible. It was Tresham's suggestion alone that saved our lives and
enabled us to fetch succour to Sir Louis. Sir John, who is an old and
tried soldier, said that for quickness and merit of conception, the
oldest knight in the Order could not have done better; and he is not
one to praise unduly. I am four years older than Gervaise Tresham, but
I tell you that were he named tomorrow commander of a galley, I would
willingly serve under him.”
“Well, well, you need not be angry, Harcourt, I have nothing to say
against Tresham. No doubt he had a happy thought, which turned out well;
but I cannot see that there was anything wonderful in it, and it seemed
to me unfair that one who is a mere boy should receive higher praise
than yourself, who, as I heard Sir John and Sir Adam Tedbond say last
night at the refectory, bore yourself right gallantly.”
“I did my best,” Ralph said shortly; “but there was small credit in that
when we were fighting for our lives. The most cowardly beast will fight
under such circumstances. When you see a Moslem rushing at you, scimitar
in hand, and know that if you do not cut him down he will cut you down,
you naturally strike as hard and as quickly as you can. You have never
liked Gervaise, Rivers. I am sure I don't know why, but you always speak
in a contemptuous sort of tone about him. True, it does him no harm,
but it certainly does you no good. For what reason should you feel a
contempt for him? Although so much younger, he is a better swordsman and
a better rider than you are. He is liked by every one in the auberge,
which is more than can be said of yourself; he is always good tempered,
and is quiet and unassuming. What on earth do you always set yourself
against him for?”
“I do not know that I do set myself against him,” Rivers said sullenly.
“I own to having no great liking for him, which is natural enough,
seeing that his father was a Lancastrian, while we are Yorkists; but it
is not pleasant to see so much made of a boy, merely because D'Aubusson
has favoured him.”
“I am certain,” Harcourt said hotly, “that such an idea has never
occurred to any one but yourself. Sir Peter is a great man and will soon
be our grand master, but at present he is but grand prior of the langue
of Auvergne, and whether he favours Tresham or not is a matter that
concerns none of us. Gervaise is liked by us for his own good qualities.
He bears himself, as a young knight should do, respectfully towards his
seniors, and is ever ready to do a service to any one. No one has
ever seen him out of temper; he is always kind and considerate to the
servants, and when in command of parties of slaves at the public works
never says a harsh word to them, but treats them as if they were human
beings, and not brute beasts. Besides, though he is more skilful than
any of us with his sword, or indeed at any of the military exercises, he
is unassuming, and has no particle of pride or arrogance. It is for
all these things that he is liked, and the friendship of D'Aubusson
has naught whatever to do with it. It is not only D'Aubusson who has
prophesied that he will rise to a distinguished rank in the Order.
Boswell and Ricord both said the same, and I for one thoroughly believe
it. Is there one among us under the age of twenty--and I might go
farther--who has already won such credit for himself? One who when but
sixteen can make his mark in an Order like ours is certain to rise to
high office, and you and I may, before many years are over, be proud to
serve under him.”
“That I will never do,” Rivers said fiercely. “I would rather go and
bury myself for life in the smallest commandery in England.”
“That may be,” Harcourt retorted, his temper also roused, “But possibly
you might prefer that to fighting under any other leader.”
“That is a reflection on my courage, Sir Ralph Harcourt, I shall lay
this matter before the bailiff.”
“You can do as you like,” Harcourt said disdainfully, “But I don't think
you will benefit by your pains.”
When his temper cooled down Rivers acknowledged to himself the truth of
what Harcourt said. He was not in the favour of the bailiff, while both
Harcourt and Tresham stood at the present moment high in his estimation.
Any complaint would lead to an inquiry into the matter that had led
to the former's words, and even if Harcourt were reprimanded for using
them, he himself would assuredly not gain in the estimation of the
knights. Harcourt himself thought no more of the matter, though he
laughingly told Gervaise that Rivers was by no means gratified at their
both attaining the honour of secular knighthood, which virtually placed
them over his head.
“He is not a nice fellow,” Gervaise said. “But naturally it must be
galling to him, and to a good many others who have not yet had the
chance of distinguishing themselves. I think it is very good of them
that they are all so kind and cordial. Of course it is otherwise with
you, who are as old as most of the other professed knights serving here;
but with me it is quite different, and as Rivers, somehow, has never
been very friendly with me, of course it is doubly galling to him. I
hope he will soon get an opportunity of winning his spurs too.”
“That is just like you, Tresham. If I were in your place, I should
have no good wishes for a fellow who has never lost an opportunity of
annoying me, and that without the smallest cause of offence on my part.”
“I am sure you would not wish him ill, Harcourt. You would make
allowance for him just as I do, and feel that if he had had the same
opportunities he would have obtained the same credit and honours.”