The Golden Galleon Part 12

"And the signora his wife? Was not she also present?" asked the old man, glancing up at Timothy as it were with the corner of his eye.

"No," answered Trollope; "I heard naught of her."

"Ah!" returned Hartop in a tone which Timothy did not exactly understand.

And then, after a few moments' silence, Jacob added, as if speaking to himself: "'Tis as I judged, then--and yet--?"

Timothy stroked his upper lip meditatively, and then, turning abruptly upon the old mariner: "Now, prithee, what doubts and questions art thou turning over in thy mind?" he inquired.

Jacob Hartop set his eyes straight before him up the long lane and strode on in resolute silence. But Timothy was pertinacious; he nudged his elbow against Jacob's arm.

"I'll tell thee what thou'rt thinking, Master Hartop," said he smiling.

"Thou'rt thinking that 'tis pa.s.sing strange that Jasper Oglander and his son were so close at hand at the time that thou wert robbed--nay, more, I'll warrant me thou'rt even questioning whether they were not themselves the very men who robbed thee."

Jacob Hartop suddenly came to a stand-still and stared at Timothy in wonderment.

"By St George," he exclaimed, "thou'rt a very 'cute and promising lad, Timothy! Beshrew me if thou'st not hit upon my veritable thoughts! 'Twas that in truth that I was questioning. But there be many points, nevertheless, that seem to disprove the suspicion; as, firstly, if Jasper and his son sought to rob me, why did they not rob me aboard the ship, where the matter was as easy as eating and drinking? Secondly, if 'twas they who robbed me, how came it that there was a third man in the work with them? And who might that third man have been? But on the other hand, mark you, if 'twas not they who did it, who else were my a.s.sailants? Who other than they could have known that I had aught about me that was worth the robbing?"

"Ah! then you were not so poor as you did look?" cried Timothy. "You did indeed carry something of value in your wallet?"

"'Twas something which would most certainly have been accounted of value--of the most exceeding value--by Queen Elizabeth, or Francis Drake, or Walter Raleigh, or even perchance by my Lord Champernoun, but by few else," answered Jacob Hartop. "Your common footpad rascal who seeketh for that which will buy him bread would peradventure have cast it into the fire, not guessing at its import."

"And yet you hinted but a moment ago that Jasper Oglander did know you had that about you which was worth the robbing," said Timothy.

"Ay, but Jasper Oglander is different," returned Hartop gravely. "He is without honour, and without conscience, a vile dissembler, and--" He broke off, recollecting that Timothy was a servant in Modbury Manor, and that it was therefore unwise to speak thus of Lord Champernoun's son. "But why should I catalogue his faults?" he continued. "If you would learn more of him, you have but to question Sir Francis Drake, who will haply tell you more than I dare tell. 'Twas indiscreet in me to mention Jasper in this connection; but your own remark took me unawares.

Nevertheless I am by no means certain that it was not indeed Jasper Oglander who attacked and robbed me yesternight--to say nothing of the wounding of your young master who rescued me--and I am minded to find out the truth, though it cost me until the end of the year in the search for it."

"You might better have said to the end of this lane," smiled Timothy, "for I can at once set your mind at ease. Like yourself, Master Hartop, I had vaguely suspected that Jasper Oglander had had a hand in this affair; but he hath given my suspicions a very positive denial, for he hath declared that both he and Master Philip did journey round by the highroad, and were nowhere near to Beddington Dingle. Also, the actual thieves have been discovered."

Hartop glanced at Timothy with a curious light in his eyes.

"And yet," said he, "I traced both Jasper and Philip's footprints in the snowy ground of Beddington Lane. What should that bode, I pray you?"

"Tut!" retorted Timothy. "How know you their footprints from those of any other honest folk?"

The old mariner answered with quiet deliberation, and with a firmness that seemed to show that he had little doubt upon the matter:

"By the token that Jasper Oglander's feet do turn slightly inward as he walks, and by the fact that his boots be pointed at the toes, in the Spanish fashion. By the token, too, that in the snow, hard against the left bootmark of him who walked by his side, there was here and there a little line, made by the point of a rapier scabbard--made, as I take it, by the point of Philip Oglander's rapier, which, if you will have occasion to observe, is a weapon of unusual length."

"Marry!" cried Trollope. "Thou art surely a very bloodhound in thy skill at tracking!"

"'Tis an art that hath oft served me in good stead," returned Hartop. "I learned it from John Hawkins. And, touching this matter of the wounding of Master Gilbert, didst chance to regard the fashion of his adversary's sword-play?"

Timothy shook his head. "I knew naught of the encounter till 'twas over," he answered. "Yet wait; Master Gilbert did indeed tell me this morning that the man had enwrapped his guard arm with the skirt of his cloak."

"Ay, Philip Oglander's own method. I had guessed so much," said Hartop with a confident nod of his head.

"What?" exclaimed Timothy. "You will say that it was Philip Oglander?

'Tis not possible, man. Why, the lad's own father informed us only this morning that Philip was but a dullard--a very dunce--at the use of the rapier. The lad admitted as much also, and even spoke of taking lessons from Master Gilbert. It is not possible, I say."

"Ah! I do perceive that thou art yet but a simple countryman, Master Trollope," rejoined Jacob Hartop as he paused at the edge of a great slough of mud that was in front of him and turned to his companion. "A simple country lad that doth see no guile, knowing not of man's manifold wickednesses. But thou'lt learn wisdom with growing years. . . . And so he declared that his son was but a dullard at sword-play, eh? Hark'ee, my lad; attend to an old man's counsel; and when Jasper Oglander--ay, or his son--doth say that a thing is white, believe thou that 'tis in truth black. When he doth declare that he is a devout and zealous Protestant, believe thou that he is in truth an ardent and bigoted Papist. When he doth declare--as I doubt not he soon will--that he is heart and soul for Queen Elizabeth, believe thou that he is all in all for King Philip and Spain. When--"

"Enough!" exclaimed Timothy drawing back a step in anger. "I will hear no more. You are the man's enemy and do but speak against him falsely.

He hath given you his help, and yet you turn against him and decry him as though he were a very villain. You say that it was he who robbed you.

I tell you 'tis false--false as your own calumnies. Ay, and I will prove its falseness, for the men who robbed you have been caught. They were caught at a late hour yesternight and are now lying in Plymouth gaol."

The old man started at Timothy, astonished and perplexed. Then he turned and carefully picked his way across the slough of mud, saying never a word. At length, when the lad again came to his side, he said very calmly:

"Are you certain sure of this that you tell me, Master Trollope? Are you certain that these men have been caught?"

"Certain," Timothy answered curtly. And they continued their journey in silence.

At this same time Baron Champernoun was in his great gloomy library with Sir Walter Raleigh and Raleigh's cousin, Sir Richard Grenville. His lordship was seated before the fire in a large arm-chair, with his head supported upon pillows and his feet propped up in front of him on a high ha.s.sock. Raleigh had been writing at the table, but had now swung round his chair and sat with his two hands clasping one of his knees, looking down at the crimson rosette that adorned his dainty shoe. Grenville stood with his back to the cheek of the fireplace. He was a tall, broad-shouldered seaman of about fifty years of age, with dark curly hair and a full, pointed beard that was sprinkled with gray. There was an easy, careless look about him, and his voice when he spoke seemed to have in it something of the deep low murmur of the sea.

"Ay, cousin Walter," he was saying, "thou hast made a stroke of ill-luck for once with this _Pearl_. She hath never brought thee much profit to speak of, and this last adventure of hers doth bring her misfortunes to a climax. 'Tis the first time I have known a ship come home from the Indies lacking a cargo that would amply repay her owners for their outlay. And her crew, from what Master Jasper hath told us, are of as little value as herself, what with graybeards for sailing-masters and negroes for seamen. I never saw the negro yet who could handle a rope or trim a sail. 'Tis surprising to me that with such a ship's company the craft hath ever reached port. What wilt do with the old hulk now, Walter,--break it up for firewood, or sell it to thine enemy?"

"Sell the ship, Raleigh,--sell her to Jasper Oglander," interposed Lord Champernoun with a chuckling laugh. "I'll go to the expense of fitting her out anew for him. 'Twill be a cheap enough way of getting rid of him for another year or two."

"I will sell her most willingly, baron, an you are serious," remarked Raleigh. "But I promise you it would be cheaper far to build a new vessel altogether. The _Pearl_ is one of your old-fashioned craft. We have made an hundred improvements in our ships since she was launched--thanks to John Hawkins and other skilled and worthy navigators. We have devised the striking of the topmast, together with the chain-pump. We have invented studding sails, top-gallant sails, sprit sails, topsails. We now weigh our anchors by the capstan. Our hulls are now built on longer keels than formerly, with lowered superstructure and finer lines, which make them swifter and capable of carrying more sail. Compare such a heavy c.u.mbrous ship as the _Pearl_ with our vessels of the newer sort, such as the _Revenge_. The improvement is too great to admit of controversy."

"Thou'rt right, cousin Walter," said Grenville, advancing a step and seating himself on an oak settle that stood beyond the too-great warmth of the fire. "Wiseacres, who knew less than we, declared that our new ships would be too crank to carry sail, and only fit for smooth water, and they foretold that they would surely founder in the heavy seas of the Atlantic. But the result hath disproved their prophecies."

"The high charging of ships was but a huge mistake," pursued Raleigh.

"Those towering castles at stern and prow did but increase the ship's leeway, made her sink too deep in the water, and tended to overset her."

"I am not learned in these matters," remarked Lord Champernoun with some impatience. "But touching that ship the _Revenge_, which you mentioned just now, Raleigh, did I not hear some weeks since that she had met with some grave disaster?"

Sir Walter Raleigh picked up his quill from the table and began idly to nibble at the feather end, leaving his cousin to answer the question.

"'Twas a small matter, as things have turned out," said Grenville; "and although it might indeed have been serious, yet there was not a single life lost. She was riding at her moorings in the river Medway, off the town of Rochester, with naught but her bare masts overhead, and in a great storm of wind and weather she suddenly turned topsy-turvy, her keel uppermost. Howsoever, they have righted her now, and she is being refitted for her next voyage, whithersoever that may be."

"Her destination hath not yet been decided upon," remarked Raleigh. "But there is talk of her being despatched to join others of Her Majesty's ships that are now lying in wait off the Western Islands to intercept and capture the Spanish plate fleet, which should be returning from Havana at about this time. But I much doubt that 'tis already too late for her to enter upon that journey, and it may be that she will be commissioned for the expedition to Panama."

Sir Richard Grenville slowly rose to his feet, and touching Raleigh on the shoulder, "Look you, cousin Walter," he said, "'tis not often that I do ask you a favour, but an you love me I would beseech you to use your influence with Her Majesty on my account, and advise her with all your eloquence to graciously appoint me to the command of the _Revenge_."

"Thou shalt have it, d.i.c.k; on my honour thou shalt have it," returned Raleigh, turning about and clapping the rough seaman on the broad back.

"Ay," interposed Lord Champernoun, "and thou shalt take my young grandson Gilbert with thee, Grenville. I had rather he learned seamanship under thee than under any other man in all Her Majesty's service."

At this moment there was a knock at the library door, and Timothy Trollope entered, followed by Jacob Hartop.

CHAPTER IX.

CONCERNING A STOLEN LETTER.