The Buccaneer Part 51

Poor Fleetword had long since arrived at the conclusion that he had unconsciously committed some crime, for which he was doomed to much suffering in the flesh: first imprisoned, and destined to endure starvation at the hands of Sir Willmott Burrell; then fed, but caged like an animal, by one whom he denominated "a man of fearful aspect, yea, of an angry countenance and fierce deportment, yet having consideration for the wants of the flesh;" then, when he had been liberated as he thought, for the express purpose of affording consolation to, and praying with a dying woman, and bound by his sacred word not to leave Gull's Nest, he found himself in the midst of the most unamiable-looking persons he had ever seen a.s.sembled; and his pale eye grew still more pale within its...o...b..t from the effects of terror.

"Cut him down!" exclaimed one ruffian, drawing a cutla.s.s, long and strong enough to destroy three at a blow.

"Fill his pinnacle hat with gunpowder, and blow him to the devil!" said another.

"He is a spy and a Roundhead," vociferated a third, "and, wherever there's one, there's sure to be more o' the breed."

"Search his pockets," shouted a fourth; "I'll lay my hand there's villany in them."

"I'm the best at that work," exclaimed Jack Roupall, spinning the long-legged preacher round and into the midst of the men before he had time to utter a syllable of explanation. The change produced on them by this display of Roupall's dexterity was like magic, for, in an instant, they were to a man convulsed with laughter: the poor preacher retained most motley marks of the bruised oranges upon his hinder garments, which were, moreover, rent by various falls, or, as he would designate them, "perilous overthrows;" and there was something so ludicrous in his whole appearance, spinning on one leg, (for he was obliged to keep up the other to maintain his balance,) and looking more like an overgrown insect, called by children "daddy long-legs," than any other creature dwelling upon earth, that the mirthfulness of the sailors might well have been pardoned.

"Children of Satan!" he said at last, recovering his breath during their laughter--"Imps of darkness!" he added, holding out both hands in front, as he would keep them from contaminating him by their touch--"if that ye ever hope for pardon----"

"I told ye he was a Roundhead--a negotiator," shouted one of the rudest; "stop his gab at once--yard-arm him."

"Peace, peace!" interrupted young Springall; "he is part of our skipper's cargo, a harmless mad preacher, and no spy; he'd talk to ye by the hour, and make as rare sport as a ma.s.s-service at Lisbon--if ye hadn't something else to think of."

"Hear him, hear him!" exclaimed the thoughtless fellows, who forgot their own and their ship's danger in expectation of some revelry.

"Hear him," repeated Roupall, while occupied in searching his pockets.

"Albeit I was not sent unto ye, ye worthless, blasphemous, and accursed crew--" began Fleetword.

"Above there!" sung out a little one-eyed seaman, squinting up at our friend, and poising a long lath so as to arrest his attention by a smart blow across the knees, which made the poor man elevate first one limb and then the other, in what soldiers term 'double quick time.' "Keep a civil tongue in your head," he added, threatening to renew the salute.

"For shame, Tom o' Coventry," said Springall, who had more generosity in his nature; "if you don't behave, I'll spit ye as neatly as ever top-mast studding sail was spitted on the broken stump of a boom in a smart gale,--d'ye hear that, master officer--that was--but is not?"

This insult could not be received quietly, because it was deserved, and the diminutive sailor applied the weapon to Master Springall's shins, so as to set his hot blood raving for encounter. Fleetword heeded not this, but rejoicing sincerely in any event that gave him opportunity of speech, proceeded to anathematize the whole a.s.sembly as confidently as if he had been the pope's legate. Roupall, having finished his investigation of Fleetword's pockets, advanced one step, and, taking Tom o' Coventry by the collar, shook him and Springall apart as if they had been two puppy dogs, while the others bawled loudly for fair play. At this instant the door opened, and Dalton strode into the midst of them with that lordly step and dignified aspect he could so well, not only a.s.sume, but preserve; even Fleetword was silenced, when the Skipper, turning to him, demanded how he came there, and if he had forgotten that a dying woman had solicited his aid.

"Of a truth," he replied, "I mistook the apartment: ye cannot suppose, most worthy commander of this enchanted and impish conservatory, that, of my own free will, I would choose such company. Where is the sinner?"--Dalton desired Springall to show him to the room of Mother Hays.

The Buccaneer offered no comment on the fray, for he had often observed that little good arises from lecturing people for their faults at the very time you want their services. He explained to them briefly but fully, and with as much clearness and wisdom as if he had been for hours in deliberation, the danger by which they were encompa.s.sed; the more than fear for their ship--that they themselves were in the most perilous situation they had ever experienced, clogged by the land, and not free on the sea: that as the evening was fast closing in, and the moon did not rise until near midnight, their enemies could do little until after the lapse of a few hours--that those who wished, might disperse themselves along the sh.o.r.e, and escape to Suss.e.x, or any other smuggling station, as they best could; sending intimation to their friends as to their movements: and he was the more particular in giving this permission, as to each and every one had been distributed full pay and profits;--that those who loved the Fire-fly, and would risk their lives for her, or with her, were to conceal themselves along the coast, and ere the moon rose, make their way a-board. This they could easily effect under the thick darkness, and in so calm a night. There was not one who could not steer a plank, in quiet water, from Ess.e.x to Sheerness; and in default of that, they were all good swimmers.

"And now, my brave fellows," he added, "I may, or I may not, meet you on the deck, where I have so often trod and triumphed. One great account I have to settle with the land before I leave it. I may swing from a gibbet before to-morrow's sun sets; or I may secure---- But if I am not with you," he added, breaking off his sentence abruptly, "before the moon rises, Mathews will take the helm; for I see by his eye that he will not leave the ship he has mated with so much steadiness and good seamanship for so long a time. The long-boat must have a light placed like ours; and false canva.s.s hung round, so as to make a bulk, while the Fire-fly steals silently and darkly on her way. This, if well managed, will give an hour's start--But you understand all that. Make up your minds, among yourselves, who's for the land, who for the sea; and I will join you again in five minutes." As Dalton (who was more agitated than his crew had ever seen him) withdrew, he heard Roupall mutter--

"Confound all she-things! This circ.u.mbendibus is all owing to his daughter: 'twould be a precious good job if she had never been born, or being born, was dead in earnest, which I hear she is not--He's not the same skipper he was afore he took to land and sentimentality! Confound all she-things, again say I! they are tiresome and troublesome."

We trust none of our readers will echo the prayer of Jack Roupall, as we draw towards the conclusion of our story.

CHAPTER X.

Vain is the bugle horn, Where trumpets men to manly work invite!

That distant summons seems to say, in scorn, We hunters may be hunted hard ere night.

SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT.

Constantia Cecil watched with much anxiety the progress of the carriages and hors.e.m.e.n which composed the train and body-guard of the Protector, as they pa.s.sed slowly along the road that led to Cecil Place. A troop, consisting of twenty men, preceded; their bright arms, and caps, and cuira.s.ses, reflecting back the blaze of the setting sun, like so many burnished mirrors. Then came Cromwell's own carriage, drawn by four strong black horses;--they had need of strength, dragging, as they did, a weight of plated iron, of which the c.u.mbrous machine was composed. The windows were remarkably narrow, and formed of the thickest gla.s.s, within which was a layer of horn, that, if it were shattered by any rude a.s.sault, would prevent the fragments from flying to the inside. Behind this carriage rode four mounted soldiers; it was succeeded by another, and at each side a horseman rode; a third conveyance, the blinds of which were closely drawn, brought up the procession; and behind this was only a single soldier. At some distance, perfectly unattended, and seeming as if unconnected with the party, came the simple vehicle of the Jew Mana.s.seh Ben Israel. However great was Cromwell's partiality for this learned and distinguished man, he was fully aware of the impolicy of permitting one of so despised a race to a.s.sociate with him publicly, or to travel abroad under his direct protection.

Frances Cromwell joined her friend at the window from whence she looked, and at once congratulated her on the tranquillity Sir Robert had enjoyed during the last two hours.

"The physician has done much," she replied; "yet I can hardly trust myself to cherish any feeling that tells of peace or hope. Dearest Frances! what will be the fate of your poor friend?"

Constantia hid her face on the Lady Cromwell's shoulder, and wept; but her grief appeared of a less feverish kind than heretofore.

"Hope for the best--my father can work marvels when he wills. He may read all right; and as yet you are unwedded."

"He cannot restore the sweet life of one I loved so dearly,--one whose place I can never see filled, and upon whose innocent countenance I can ne'er again look."

"I wonder who is in my father's carriage?--Colonel Jones, I dare say, and a couple more of the same severe cast," observed Lady Frances, trying to divert her friend's attention from the thought of poor Barbara; "not a joyful face amongst a troop of them; the very soldiers look like ma.s.ses of grey stone, stuck on the horses' backs with iron paste."

"The second carriage," said Constantia, "looks as if it contained a prisoner--see, a soldier rides at each door." She turned still paler as she spoke, and grasped the arm of Lady Frances with all her strength, though support was required but for a moment. The motion was unnoticed by her friend, who added in her usually gay tone--

"A good guess! And who is in the third? some other caged animal; one of my father's pet lions, or leopards, or creatures of that sort: pet or no pet, I would rather see what it contains than all the others put together--so much for woman's curiosity!"

"The guard are entering the great gates," said Constantia, "and whether he bring me weal or woe, friend or foe, I must receive the Protector, so as to show our sense of the more than honour he has done us."

"Constantia!" exclaimed Lady Frances, who still lingered at the window, "there is a fourth carriage, a foreign-looking one, with an overgrown boot, and no attendants--coming behind the train, like the last bit of paper at the tail of a boy's kite. I marvel more than any who that can contain?"

"Will you not come with me to receive your father?" said Constantia, extending her hand to her friend. Lady Frances tripped across the room and took it within hers.

"Constantia, nothing frights you from your propriety!--I am ready."

The sudden, though antic.i.p.ated visit of the Protector, produced a proportionate degree of embarra.s.sment and confusion among all the inmates of Cecil Place. At any other time, the bare intimation of such an honour would have turned their heads, and inspired their heels with the alacrity of St. Vitus himself; but they had felt too much interest in the events of the past week to experience the full joy to which, at any other time, they would have yielded. As it was, housekeeper, porter, steward, cook, butler, and their subordinates, set about the necessary preparations with the dexterity and alertness of servants who know that their first duty is obedience, not only of their employer's words, but their wishes:--not one but felt the warmest interest in all that concerned their dear master, and still more dear mistress; they would have gladly sacrificed their lives to make her happy: in them was clearly shown the "constant service of the antique world." Solomon Grundy, as usual, having the smallest quant.i.ty of brains, was the most noisy, and the least useful, though the creature was affectionate enough in his way, and, as we have stated, marvellously skilful in his calling.

He stood with the rest of the servants, about twenty in number, who had a.s.sembled to await Cromwell's entrance, and do honour to their young lady by as numerous and well arranged a show as they could collect. They were all dressed in deep and decent mourning, except the women of Lady Frances, who walked behind her to the great entrance, where she and Constantia stood ready to receive his Highness. As he alighted, the advanced-guard formed a semicircle beside the carriage; and when his foot rested on the first step of the entrance-stairs, the two ladies pa.s.sed the threshold, to meet him with due respect. It was a picturesque sight--the meeting of that rugged and warlike man with two such females;--for Lady Frances, though deficient in what may be termed regular beauty, had an air and fascination about her that was exceedingly captivating; and as she waited, one foot a little in advance, her head thrown back, and the jewels of her clasped stomacher distinctly marking the outline of her full and graceful bust, she formed a considerable, but still a pleasing contrast to the high-souled beauty of her dignified friend. Constantia, at the moment Cromwell alighted, trembled lest the next person should be Sir Willmott Burrell; and the terror she naturally felt, lent an air of embarra.s.sment to her pale, high features, to which they were generally strangers. Her long mourning veil fell, as usual, to her feet; and the folds of her rich velvet robe concealed the change which but a little time had wrought in her exquisitely moulded figure. The arched hall was crowded on either side by her domestics, whose dresses formed a gloomy back-ground, which, nevertheless, accorded well with the hatchment that hung over the entrance,--a memorial of Lady Cecil's recent death. Lady Frances, as she glanced on the sober, but well-arranged party in front, their bright armour and broad swords flashing in the light, the prancing of the brave horses, and the smiling face of her uncle's favourite page--her own cousin, who followed close to his indulgent master--the mixture of carriage and cuira.s.s, of spear and pennon, set out against the green meadows, and still farther off the blue and beautiful sea--all this looked to her cheerful mind as if hope and happiness were about once more to enter Cecil Place. The impression was so strong upon her mind, that she only regretted she could not speak of it to Constantia, who bent her knee to salute the hand of her friend--the Protector of England! while he, gallantly removing his hat, raised her from the ground, and imprinted a grave and respectful kiss upon her brow--then, having saluted his own daughter after the same fatherly fashion, he presented a hand to each of the ladies, and walked, bareheaded, into the hall, returning the salutations of the delighted domestics as he pa.s.sed, and inquiring in a low, earnest tone, after the health of his worthy host and friend, Sir Robert Cecil. As they entered the apartment, in which a suitable refection had been prepared, Constantia was about to return to receive her other guests.

"Not so," observed the Protector, retaining her hand. "I have taken upon myself for one day and one night the wardenship of Cecil Place, if your excellent parent will so permit it; with the Lord's help we will discharge the trust well and faithfully. Such as I wish to introduce to you will join us soon, and to those who will not I have allotted chambers. Our mutual friend, Major Wellmore," he added, smiling, "has instructed me so perfectly in the bearings of this fine house, that I do not at all feel as a stranger within its walls."

Constantia bowed, and from her heart thanked the Protector for the kindness and delicacy of his thoughts.

"Great and glorious I knew him ever," she said to herself, "but I was unprepared for the tenderness we usually consider the exclusive attribute of our own s.e.x."

Some five or six of the officers and gentlemen of Cromwell's household were, in their turn, presented to her; but Sir Willmott Burrell came not among them. Constantia trembled as often as she turned her head towards the opening door.

During the time occupied in partaking of the abundant repast, upon which the delighted Solomon had expended all due care and anxiety, there were few words spoken, and neither healths nor toasts pa.s.sed round--the Puritans holding all such observances as profane things; nor was there any allusion made to the unfortunate occurrences of the past days, except as regarded the disappearance of the Preacher Fleetword, a circ.u.mstance which weighed heavily on the mind of Constantia.

"I a.s.sure your Highness," said Lady Frances, "this is a perfect island of romance; there has been as much mystery, and as many misunderstandings, as would form a Spanish play."

"I am sorry, Mistress Frances," replied Colonel Jones, "to find your thoughts still turning to these follies--follies anathematized in this regenerated land."

A smart reply mounted to the lady's lip, who was annoyed that the plain mistress had taken place of the t.i.tle so universally ceded to her, but she dared not send it forth in her father's presence.

"I a.s.sure Lady Frances," observed her father, rising from the table at the same time, and laying a particular emphasis on the word _lady_, as if he would reprove Colonel Jones's plainness--"I a.s.sure _Lady_ Frances that I am a most excellent unraveller of mysteries,--of _all_ mysteries," he repeated with a stress on the word ALL, that made the blood rush into his daughter's cheek. "And if I may presume on such an accomplishment, I would request the honour of a private interview with Mistress Cecil."

Cromwell conducted the lady from the room with an air that would not have disgraced the descendant of a race of kings.