By Pike and Dyke Part 6

Ned then related the news that met them on their arrival at his grandfather's home, and the exclamation of fury on the part of his father.

"It is a common enough story with us here," the burgomaster said, "for few of us but have lost friends or relatives at the hands of these murderous tyrants of ours. But to you, living in a free land, truly it must have been a dreadful shock; and I wonder not that your father's indignation betrayed him into words which, if overheard, might well cost a man his life in this country."

"They were overheard and reported," Ned said; and then proceeded to relate the warning they had received, the measures they had taken to get off unperceived, the accidental meeting with the guard boat and the way in which it had been sunk, the pursuit by the galleys and the fight with them, and then the encounter with the Spanish ship of war.

"And you say your father never relaxed his hold of the tiller when struck!" the burgomaster said in surprise. "I should have thought he must needs have fallen headlong to the ground."

"He told me," Ned replied, "that at the moment he was. .h.i.t he was pushing over the tiller, and had his weight partly on that and partly on his other leg. Had it been otherwise he would of course have gone down, for he said that for a moment he thought his leg had been shot off."

When Ned finished his narrative the burgomaster and magistrates were loud in their exclamations of admiration at the manner in which the little trader had both fought and deceived her powerful opponent.

"It was gallantly done indeed," the burgomaster said. "Truly it seems marvellous that a little ship with but twenty hands should have fought and got safely away from the Don Pedro, for that was the ship we saw pa.s.s this afternoon. We know her well, for she has often been in port here before we declared for the Prince of Orange a month ago. The beggars of the sea themselves could not have done better,--could they, my friends? though we Dutchmen and Zeelanders believe that there are no sailors that can match our own."

The story had taken nearly an hour to tell, and Ned now said:

"With your permission, sir, I will now go up to my father again."

"You had best not go for the present," the burgomaster said. "The doctor asked me to keep you with me for awhile, for that he wished his patient to be entirely undisturbed. He is by his bedside now, and will let me know at once if your father wishes to have you with him."

A quarter of an hour later a servant called the burgomaster out. The surgeon was waiting outside.

"It is finished," he said, "and he has borne it well. Scarce a groan escaped him, even when we applied the hot irons; but he is utterly exhausted now, and we have given him an opiate, and hope that he will soon drop off to sleep. My colleague will remain with him for four hours, and then I will return and take his place. You had best say nothing to the lad about it. He would naturally want to see his father; we would much rather that he should not. Therefore tell him, please, that his father is dropping off to sleep, and must not on any account be disturbed; and that we are sitting up with him by turns, and will let him know at once should there be any occasion for his presence."

Ned was glad to hear that his father was likely to get off to sleep; and although he would gladly have sat up with him, he knew that it was much better that he should have the surgeon beside him. The burgomaster's wife, a kind and motherly woman, took him aside into a little parlour, where a table was laid with a cold capon, some manchets of bread, and a flask of the burgomaster's best wine. As Ned had eaten nothing since the afternoon, and it was now past midnight, he was by no means sorry to partake of some refreshment. When he had finished he was conducted to a comfortable little chamber that had been prepared for him, and in spite of his anxiety about his father it was not long before he fell asleep.

The sun was high before he awoke. He dressed himself quickly and went downstairs, for he feared to go straight to his father's room lest he might be sleeping.

"You have slept well," the burgomaster's wife said with a smile; "and no wonder, after your fatigues. The surgeon has just gone, and I was about to send up to wake you, for he told me to tell you that your father had pa.s.sed a good night, and that you can now see him."

Ned ran upstairs, and turning the handle of the door very quietly entered his father's room. Captain Martin was looking very pale, but Ned thought that his face had not the drawn look that had marked it the evening before.

"How are you, my dear father?"

"I am going on well, Ned; at least so the doctors say. I feel I shall be but a battered old hulk when I get about again; but your mother will not mind that, I know."

"And do the doctors still think that they must take the leg off?" Ned asked hesitatingly.

"That was their opinion last night, Ned, and it was my opinion too; and so the matter was done off hand, and there is an end of it."

"Done offhand?" Ned repeated. "Do you mean"--and he hesitated.

"Do I mean that they have taken it off? Certainly I do, Ned. They took it off last night while you were downstairs in the burgomaster's parlour; but I thought it would be much better for you not to know anything about it until this morning. Yes, my boy, thank G.o.d, it is all over! I don't say that it wasn't pretty hard to bear; but it had to be done, you know, and the sooner it was over the better. There is nothing worse than lying thinking about a thing."

Ned was too affected to speak; but with tears streaming down his cheeks, leant over and kissed his father. The news had come as a shock to him, but it seemed to have lifted a weight from his mind. The worst was over now; and although it was terrible to think that his father had lost his leg, still this seemed a minor evil after the fear that perhaps his life might be sacrificed. Knowing that his father should not be excited, or even talk more than was absolutely necessary, Ned stayed but a few minutes with him, and then hurried off to the ship, where, however, he found that the news that the captain's leg had been amputated, and that the doctors hoped that he would go on well, had been known some hours before; as Peters had come on sh.o.r.e with the first dawn of daylight for news, and heard from the burgomaster's servant that the amputation had taken place the evening before, and an hour later had learned from the lips of the doctor who had been watching by the captain's bedside, that he had pa.s.sed a fairly good night, and might so far be considered to be doing well.

"What do you think we had better do, Master Ned? Of course it will be for the captain to decide; but in these matters it is always best to take counsel beforehand. For although it is, of course, what he thinks in the matter will be done, still it may be that we might direct his thoughts; and the less thinking he does in his present state the better."

"What do you mean as to what is to be done, Peters?"

"Well, your father is like to be here many weeks; indeed, if I said many months I don't suppose it would be far from the truth. Things never go on quite smooth. There are sure to be inflammations, and fever keeps on coming and going; and if the doctor says three months, like enough it is six."

"Of course I shall stay here and nurse him, Peters."

"Well, Master Ned, that will be one of the points for the captain to settle. I do not suppose he will want the Good Venture to be lying idle all the time he is laid up; and though I can sail the ship, the trading business is altogether out of my line. You know all the merchants he does business with, going ash.o.r.e, as you most always do with him; I doubt not that you could fill his place and deal with them just the same as if he was here."

"But I cannot leave him at present."

"No, no, Master Ned; no one would think of it. Now, what I have been turning over in my mind is, that the best thing for the captain and for you and your good mother is that I should set sail in the Venture without the loss of a day and fetch her over. If the wind is reasonable, and we have good luck, we may be back in ten days or so. By that time the captain may be well enough to think where we had better go for a cargo, and what course had best be taken about things in general."

"I think that would certainly be the best plan, Peters; and I will suggest it to my father at once. He is much more likely to go on well if my mother is with him, and she would be worrying sadly at home were she not by his side. Besides, it will be well for her to have something to occupy her, for the news of what has befallen her father and brothers will be a terrible blow to her. If I put it in that way to him I doubt not that he will agree to the plan; otherwise, he might fear to bring her out here in such troubled times, for there is no saying when the Spaniards will gather their army to recover the revolted cities, or against which they will first make their attempts. I will go back at once, and if he be awake I will tell him that you and I agree that it will be best for you to sail without loss of an hour to fetch my mother over, and that we can then put off talking about other matters until the ship returns."

Ned at once went back to his father's bedroom. He found the captain had just awoke from a short sleep.

"Father, I do not want to trouble you to think at present, but will tell you what Master Peters and I, who have been laying our heads together, concluded is best to be done. You are likely to be laid up here for some time, and it will be far the best plan for the Good Venture to sail over and fetch mother to nurse you."

"I shall get on well enough, Ned. They are kindly people here; and regarding our fight with the Spaniards as a sign of our friendship and goodwill towards them, they will do all in their power for me."

"Yes, father, I hope, indeed, that you will go on well; and I am sure that the good people here will do their best in all ways for you, and of course I will nurse you to the best of my power, though, indeed, this is new work for me; but it was not so much you as mother that we were thinking of. It will be terrible for her when the news comes that her father and brothers are all killed, and that you are lying here sorely wounded. It will be well nigh enough to drive her distraught. But if she were to come over here at once she would, while busying about you, have less time to brood over her griefs; and, indeed, I see not why she should be told what has happened at Vordwyk until she is here with you, and you can break it to her. It will come better from your lips, and for your sake she will restrain her grief."

"There is a great deal in what you say, Ned, and, indeed, I long greatly to have her with me; but Holland is no place at present to bring a woman to, and I suppose also that she would bring the girls, for she could not well leave them in a house alone. There are plenty of friends there who would be glad to take them in; but that she could decide upon herself. However, as she is a native here she will probably consider she may well run the same risks as the rest of her countrywomen. They remain with their fathers and husbands and endure what perils there may be, and she will see no reason why she should not do the same."

"What we propose is that the Venture should set sail at once and fetch my mother over, and the girls, if she sees fit to bring them. I shall of course stay here with you until the brig returns, and by that time you will, I hope, be strong enough to talk over what had best be done regarding the ship and business generally."

"Well, have your way, Ned. At present I cannot think over things and see what is best; so I will leave the matter in your hands, and truly I should be glad indeed to have your mother here with me."

Well content to have obtained the permission Ned hurried from the room.

"Has the burgomaster returned?" he asked when he reached the lower storey.

"He has just come in, and I was coming up to tell you that dinner is served."

"Is it eleven o'clock already?" Ned exclaimed. "I had no idea it was so late." He entered the room and bowed to the burgomaster and his wife.

"Worshipful sir," he said, "I have just obtained leave from my father to send our ship off to London to fetch hither my mother to come to nurse him. I trust that by the time she arrives he will be able to be moved, and then they will take lodgings elsewhere, so as not to trespa.s.s longer upon your great kindness and hospitality."

"I think that it is well that your mother should come over," the burgomaster said; "for a man who has had the greater part of his leg taken off cannot be expected to get round quickly. Besides, after what you told us last night about the misfortune that has befallen her family, it were best that she should be busied about her husband, and so have little time to brood over the matter. As to hospitality, it would be strange indeed if we should not do all that we could for a brave man who has been injured in fighting our common enemy. Send word to your mother that she will be as welcome as he is, and that we shall be ready in all respects to arrange whatever she may think most convenient and comfortable. And now you had best sit down and have your meal with us. As soon as it is over I will go down with you to the wharf, and will do what I can to hasten the sailing of your ship. I don't think," he went on, when they had taken their seats at table, "that there is much chance of her meeting another Spaniard on her way out to sea, for we have news this morning that some ships of the beggars have been seen cruising off the entrance, and the Spaniards will be getting under shelter of their batteries at Amsterdam. I hear they are expecting a fleet from Spain to arrive soon to aid in their operations against our ports. However, I have little fear that they will do much by sea against us. I would we could hold our own as well on the land as we can on the water."

Ned found the meal extremely long and tedious, for he was fretting to be off to hasten the preparations on board the Good Venture, and he was delighted when at last the burgomaster said:

"Now, my young friend, we will go down to the wharf together."

But although somewhat deliberate, the burgomaster proved a valuable a.s.sistant. When he had told Ned that he would do what he could to expedite the sailing of the ship, the lad had regarded it as a mere form of words, for he did not see how he could in any way expedite her sailing. As soon, however, as they had gone on board, and Ned had told Peters that the captain had given his consent to his sailing at once, the burgomaster said: "You can scarce set sail before the tide turns, Master Peters, for the wind is so light that you would make but little progress if you did. From what Master Martin tells me you came off so hurriedly from Amsterdam that you had no time to get ballast on board. It would be very venturesome to start for a voyage to England unless with something in your hold. I will give orders that you shall be furnished at once with sandbags, otherwise you would have to wait your turn with the other vessels lying here; for ballast is, as you know, a rare commodity in Holland, and we do not like parting even with our sand hills. In the meantime, as you have well nigh six hours before you get under way, I will go round among my friends and see if I cannot procure you a little cargo that may pay some of the expenses of your voyage."

Accordingly the burgomaster proceeded at once to visit several of the princ.i.p.al merchants, and, representing that it was the clear duty of the townsfolk to do what they could for the men who had fought so bravely against the Spaniards, he succeeded in obtaining from them a considerable quant.i.ty of freight upon good terms; and so zealously did he push the business that in a very short time drays began to arrive alongside the Good Venture, and a number of men were speedily at work in transferring the contents to her hold, and before evening she had taken on board a goodly amount of cargo.

Ned wrote a letter to his mother telling her what had taken place, and saying that his father would be glad for her to come over to be with him, but that he left it to her to decide whether to bring the girls over or not. He said no word of the events at Vordwyk; but merely mentioned they had learned that a spy had denounced his father to the Spaniards as having used expressions hostile to the king and the religious persecutions, and that on this account he would have been arrested had he not at once put to sea. Peters was charged to say nothing as to what he had heard about the Plomaerts unless she pressed him with questions. He was to report briefly that they were so busy with the unloading of the ship at Amsterdam that Captain Martin had only once been ash.o.r.e, and leave it to be inferred that he only landed to see the merchants to whom the cargo was consigned.

"Of course, Peters, if my mother presses you as to whether any news has been received from Vordwyk, you must tell the truth; but if it can be concealed from her it will be much the best. She will have anxiety enough concerning my father."