With the lengthening days our hopes of effecting an escape increased.
The vigilance of our guards had somewhat relaxed, and we were allowed to
remain in one another's company for a much longer period.
Felgate and Greville discussed innumerable plans with me, but in every
case a serious obstacle arose that necessitated the abandonment of that
particular scheme, till one day the long-hoped-for opportunity arrived.
In the middle of the month of June--I had just celebrated my twentieth
birthday in a very despondent style--Van der Wycke came to us one
morning with a beaming face that showed that something very unusual had
occurred to upset the stolidity of this typical Dutchman.
"Ah, Mynheer Drake," he said in his very broken English, "I must tell
you ze goot news for us, but bad news for you. Our ships have broken
all ze Englischman, Chatham is burnt, and ve vill even now take London."
And in this style he told us the heartbreaking news of the
never-to-be-forgotten disgrace at Chatham, of the burning or sinking of
the _Royal Oak_, the _James_, the _London_, and several other smaller
vessels. He also said that His Majesty and the Court and Parliament had
removed to Bristol, though this latter information afterwards proved to
be false.
For days we remained too sick at heart to attempt an escape; but early
in the month of July we were informed that our prison was to be
limewashed, and that for a few days at least we were to be kept in one
room at the farther side of the building.
I had long before this secured a careful copy of the paper that Increase
Joyce had shown me, and this I kept concealed on my person, so that in
any case I should still retain what might subsequently prove a valuable
piece of information.
Our new quarters overlooked the town walls, and, the windows being lower
and larger than those of our former prison, we could easily observe what
was going on.
The Hollanders were evidently making preparations to celebrate their
victory, for garlands and decorated masts were being displayed. This
served to increase our bitterness at heart, and, curiously enough, our
guards became particularly lax in their duties. In fact, but for the
purpose of supplying us with food, we were practically ignored.
We soon discovered that the bars of one of the windows could easily be
wrenched from their fastenings, and with these removed only a ten-foot
drop lay between us and freedom.
Carefully setting apart a portion of our rations, we soon secured enough
food to last us for a couple of days, and one evening, directly the
guards had visited us for the last time that night, Greville climbed on
Felgate's shoulders and attacked the crumbling mortar that kept the bars
in position.
In less than an hour we succeeded, by dint of plenty of hard work, in
removing the bars, and all was ready for our flight.
The night was dark, the stars being constantly hidden by dense masses of
drifting clouds, while the wind howled mournfully amid the trees that
lined the roadway within the ramparts.
The steady tramp of a sentry showed the necessity of extreme caution,
and the clocks chimed ten ere the man was visited by the rounds. Half
an hour later he left his post and disappeared--in all probability to
enjoy a quiet sleep.
"Now is our time," whispered Drake, and squeezing his body through the
aperture he dropped lightly upon the pavement. His example was quickly
and cautiously followed, and in less time than we expected we were
creeping along in the darkest shadows towards the open country.
Instinct took us towards the sea, from which blew a stinging, salt-laden
breeze that caused a sensation of freedom, and when at length we gained
the summit of the last rush-grown dyke, we could see the waves lashing
the beach in so violent a manner as to make an attempt to escape by boat
an absolute impossibility.
However, the hours of darkness were fleeting fast, so we pressed on
along the shore, peering through the darkness to try and secure a safe
shelter. Soon we came upon a small hamlet, of which every house was in
darkness, though the occasional barking of dogs warned us that the place
was to be avoided. A short distance beyond was a small haven, wherein
we could see several boats of all sizes riding easily at anchor.
The wind had now veered more to the north-'ard, and with it a heavy rain
came on. This decided us, and, trusting that the downpour would deaden
the force of the wind, we launched a small boat and pulled off to a
galliot of about twenty tons burthen.
We approached her cautiously, for fear that she might have someone
sleeping on board. On coming alongside we fended off our frail cockle
shell, while Felgate climbed softly up her sides and gained the deck.
She was open amidships, but had a cuddy for'ard and a small cabin under
her poop.
Felgate made his way aft, and we saw him disappear under the shadow of
the poop. A moment later and he reappeared, glided across the deck, and
explored the cuddy. Everything appeared satisfactory, so we joined him,
sending the dinghy adrift.
The galliot carried two masts, the after one only being set up. The
foremast was housed in a tabernacle and lay on the deck. We manned a
windlass, and with a dismal creaking, that alarmed us mightily, the mast
slowly rose to an upright position. Then it was an easy matter to
spread the great tanned sail, and having slipped the cable we stood
westwards towards England and freedom.
Once clear of the haven we felt the lift of the ocean as the vessel
heeled to the breeze. Drake and I stood by the tiller, while Felgate
went for'ard to keep a bright lookout.
There was no longer need for silence, and our tongues wagged merrily at
the thought of our escape. The galliot was, like all Dutch craft, of
great beam, with bluff bows and an ugly square stern. She would, we had
little doubt, prove a good sea boat, but sluggish in a light wind. As
it was, the steady breeze was just strong enough to make her lively, and
it was with satisfaction that we saw the dim outline of the low-lying
coast get fainter and fainter.
Suddenly a massive post, crowned by a triangle, loomed out on our
starboard bow.
"Steady there!" shouted Felgate; "there's a beacon ahead."
"Which side shall we make for?" asked Greville.
"Quick, Aubrey, try a cast!" said Felgate, and I picked up a heavy piece
of metal which happened to be lying near, fastened a line to it, and
threw it overboard. Less than three fathoms! Again I tried, and
touched the bottom in little more than two.
"'Bout ship!" shouted Drake, bearing down on the long tiller, and the
galliot, her sails flapping in the wind like the wings of a wounded
bird, came about slowly yet surely, the breeze filled her sails as she
lay on the other tack, and once more she slipped into deep water.
But the result of this manoeuvre was bewildering. The blackness that
precedes the dawn is always greatest; the shore was invisible, and our
sole guide as to direction was the wind, which we hoped still blew from
the same quarter. All around were the short, steep, white-crested waves
that are so typical of the shallow waters around the Dutch coasts, while
our range of vision on all sides was limited to a space of about a
hundred yards of heaving water.
"Keep the lead going!" ordered Greville, and feverishly I made cast
after cast with my rough-and-ready leadline.
For some time I found no bottom with four fathoms, which was the
available length of the line, and I was on the point of giving up the
task with a feeling that we were clear of the shallows, when I felt the
sinker touch bottom.
The boat was once more put about and the lead kept going, but still the
depth remained the same, or, rather, slightly shoaling. Again we
tacked, but our efforts to find deeper water were unavailing, and at
last the galliot ran aground with a slight shock on a bed of soft sand.
With a falling tide our position was hopeless, and when daylight dawned
and objects became visible, we found to our dismay that we were within
half a mile of the shore, and in full view of the hamlet from which we
had taken the galliot. As we had been sailing for over two hours, we
must have doubled backwards and forwards for want of keeping a proper
course, our numerous tacks having completely bewildered us.
The inhabitants of the town of Haarlem were abroad early, and it was
evident that our ignominious situation had come to their knowledge, for
crowds lined the shore looking steadfastly in our direction.
At about six in the morning the tide had left us high and dry, and the
boundless expanse of sandbanks showed us how hopeless was our task on a
dark night. Thoroughly disheartened and ashamed, we withdrew to the
cabin, where we awaited the arrival of the soldiers who were to take us
back to captivity.
"Ah, goot-morning, Mynheer!" was the greeting of the governor, as he
made his way across the sloping deck of the galliot, his usually grave
visage puckered with a thousand wrinkles, while his eyes twinkled with
grim humour.
"Take us and do whatever you will," replied Felgate savagely, "but for
any sake taunt us not!"
Van der Wycke bowed in well-feigned gravity.
"Pardon, Mynheer," he replied, "but you yourselves haf put to much
trouble for nothing. You are now free!"
And to our astonishment we learned how that peace had been proclaimed at
Breda on the previous day, and that our futile attempt might well not
have taken place.
Needless to say, our further stay in the Low Countries was hurried as
quickly as possible, and next day a stout little brig conveyed us from
Rotterdam to London. The joys of seeing our native land once more were
somewhat damped by the pitiful sight of the blackened hulls of our
men-of-war that had been sunk off the mouth of the Thames.