The Golden Galleon Part 13

Timothy had given the old man a pair of cloth shoes in place of the mud-covered boots that he had worn on his walk from the village, and had himself changed his rough outdoor clothes for a suit of dark-blue frieze.

"What have we here?" questioned the baron, turning in his chair and looking towards the door.

"'Tis Master Jacob Hartop, my lord," answered Timothy, "the same who was robbed yesternight."

"That matter is settled, for the men are arrested," said his lordship with a wave of his thin white hand that was meant for a dismissal. "I have now no need of the man's evidence. You had best take him down to the town and let Justice Oldfield examine him." His eyes rested upon Hartop for a moment. "Yet stay," he added. And then, addressing Hartop, he said: "Art thou a man of Devon, prithee?"

"I am, your lordship," answered Jacob. "So please you, I am Modbury born, and did serve your lordship's family in my youth--until, my lord, your father got me a ship and I went to sea."

"How long time have you been absent from England?" Lord Champernoun asked, gazing dreamily into the fire.

"'Tis nigh upon three-and-twenty years since last I trod upon these sh.o.r.es," the old mariner answered.

"What is your history during all those years?" pursued the n.o.bleman.

"A troublous one, my lord. So please you, I was one of Captain John Hawkins' men that went out with him from Plymouth in the year fifteen hundred and sixty-seven. I was his master's mate aboard the _Minion_, and was with him in his fight at San Juan de Ulloa. Captain Hawkins left me, with certain others, in Mexico, where I remained for two years, until I fell into the hands of the Spaniards, who carried me off to Spain. I was a prisoner in the Contratation House of Cadiz for twelve months, and a slave in one of the galleys of Don Andrea Doria for two years more, being present as a slave on that admiral's flag-ship at the battle of Lepanto." He broke off, glancing nervously from one to the other of the company. At the mention of the battle of Lepanto Sir Richard Grenville raised his eyebrows. No one spoke, however, and presently the old buccaneer continued:

"Transferred to one of King Philip's great galleons, I was taken once more to the Spanish Indies; but by G.o.d's providence the galleon was captured on the high seas by Captain Ned Horseley, the English buccaneer, and I was by him handed over to Captain Francis Drake. Under Drake, so please you, I served at the attack on Nombre de Dios, and at the taking of Porto Bello in the year seventy-two. Again I fell into the hands of our enemies, and was for eight long years in the Everlasting Prison Remediless in Hispaniola; since when I have been in the Indies--in Darien, in Brazil, in Virginia. I had the good fortune to come into possession of a great galleon, with which I roved the seas, making many conquests and gaining great wealth. But again I had the ill fortune to lose her. Thereafter I found my way out to the Western Indies, and have now come back from Havana in the good ship _Pearl_."

His listeners nodded and smiled as he ended his narrative.

"What say you to that, Sir Walter?" asked Lord Champernoun, turning to Raleigh.

"A goodly record, o' my conscience," returned Sir Walter. And glancing towards Hartop he added: "And so thou hast been robbed--eh, my man?

Prithee, what might have been the value of your stolen property?"

Hartop hesitated and looked a little confused. At last he said, bowing to Raleigh:

"So please your honour, is it to Sir Walter Raleigh that I do now speak?"

Sir Walter Raleigh nodded. "Yes, I was asking thee the value of thy stolen goods."

"Nay, I know not precisely," answered Hartop. "It might be about the value of five or six hundred pounds in the form of pearls and emeralds and gew-gaws of such sort. But of these I care naught, for there was that in my wallet which I had rather have given my life than lose--a letter addressed to your worshipful self, that I was bidden to give with all speed into your honour's hands. I had thought it was safe in the pocket of my hose until late yesternight, but then I minded that ere I left the ship I put it into my wallet. And 'tis gone--G.o.d forgive me, 'tis gone!"

"From Havana, say you?" cried Sir Walter Raleigh doubtingly. "Prithee, who writ it?"

"Captain William Marsden, please your worship."

"Marsden?" echoed Raleigh. "But he is dead. He died ere the _Pearl_ set sail on her homeward voyage. Jasper Oglander told me so. 'Twas of a malarial fever that he died."

Hartop shook his head and rejoined very calmly: "No; so please your worship 'twas not fever. Master Oglander must surely have been misinformed, or else--" He broke off, glancing apprehensively at Lord Champernoun. "Captain Marsden was murdered, your worship, and he writ the letter, knowing beforehand that his life was menaced."

"Some treachery at work, eh?" muttered Sir Walter. "Well, and the letter. Dost know naught of its purport?"

"Naught saving the words that the captain spake as he gave it unto me,"

answered Hartop. "They were these: 'Guard the letter with thy life, Hartop, and let no Spaniard or friend of Spain know aught of its existence. Deliver it into the hands of Sir Walter Raleigh wheresoever he may be found, and, failing him, any one of Her Majesty's privy councillors. If thou shouldst fall into the hands of our enemies, destroy the letter. If thou shouldst lose it, which Heaven forfend, go still to Raleigh and tell him this: tell him that the King of Spain's people in the Indies have gathered together here in the treasure-houses of Havana the vastest store of silver and gold that hath ever been known upon earth, and that it is the intention of the King to have all this treasure transported into Spain, to the end that he may--in revenge for the great loss he hath lately suffered at the hands of England--build a yet greater armada than that of two years ago, wherewith to invade and conquer our Queen's dominions. Bid Sir Walter bear this in mind: that the taking of that treasure into Spain doth mean nothing short of the downfall of England and all her glory upon the seas.'"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Sir Walter, striding to and fro athwart the end of the table. "But all this I did know pa.s.sing well before--although, indeed I was scarce aware that the treasure was so great. Even now at this present time Hawkins and Frobisher are lying in wait with their ships at the Azores, with intent to intercept the Spanish galleons."

"Your pardon, sir, but so please you I am not done," returned Jacob Hartop. "The more important part is to come. King Philip of Spain, it seemeth from what Captain Marsden told me, is fully aware that the English ships are even now lying in wait for his galleons; and the captain bade me tell your honour that if matters remain as they now are, those ships will continue so to lie inactive until their hulls be all eaten with the worm and their crews all dead of famine and disease."

"And how so?" demanded Raleigh in a loud voice. "Are they not as well equipped as any fleet that ever sailed out of England, quotha?"

Hartop shrank back, overawed by the great courtier's imperative manner.

"I am striving to repeat Captain Marsden's message," he said meekly; and then he went on more boldly: "Inclosed with the letter I have so unfortunately lost there was, I believe (although I of course saw it not), a copy of King Philip's own private instructions to the admiral of the plate fleet, sent out secretly to Havana. They arrived there but three days before Captain Marsden received his intelligence. Those instructions were to the effect that the galleons were to remain in Havana throughout the winter, and to set sail on the first day of the month of March next, by which time the English ships, their hulls rotten and their crews reduced by pestilence, would be too weak to offer any obstacle."

"Ah, now do I begin to perceive some daylight!" exclaimed Sir Walter Raleigh--"as much, it may be, as if I had e'en read the letter thou hast guarded so ill." He turned to Lord Champernoun. "That letter must be found," he said. "It will go ill with us if it fall into the hands of any friend of Spain. I beg thee to see to it in such wise as may seem most expedient. In the meantime--although I am sorry to abridge my so pleasant visit--I must hie me back to London. Cousin d.i.c.k," he added, nodding to Captain Grenville, "there is work for thee in this matter, I do promise thee."

Timothy Trollope had not heard this conversation. Having ushered Jacob Hartop into Lord Champernoun's presence, he had withdrawn from the library and made his way up the stairs to his young master's bedroom.

The sound of merry laughter greeted him from within as he reached the door. He knocked and entered, and found Gilbert sitting up in bed with a smile on his face, and with his bandaged arm resting in a sling of brilliant red silk. The Lady Betty sat at his bedside, at work with her needle upon a piece of tapestry; Drusilla, seated on a low stool at her mother's feet, was nursing a litter of mewing kittens. Philip Oglander occupied a chair close by, and was speaking when Timothy appeared, entertaining his cousins by his descriptions of life in Brazil, of adventurous journeys through primeval forests, of horseback rides across the wide pampas, and dream-like voyages among the islands of the Antilles.

"And prithee, cousin Philip, didst never go to any school out there in those beauteous places?" asked Drusilla.

And Philip answered:

"Nay, there be neither schools nor colleges in the Brazil, saving only those which are kept up by the Jesuit fathers, and with them and their Romish fashions I could have no dealings."

"And yet thou'rt not lacking in cla.s.sical knowledge," remarked Lady Betty with a smile, as she plied her busy needle; "for I heard thee but a little while since reading to Gilbert out of his book of Virgil, and it seemeth to me that thy skill in the Latin tongue doth greatly excel that of many English boys I have known who have studied at the great colleges of Oxford."

At this Philip shrugged his shoulders and affected to make light of the accomplishment, concealing the fact that it was one of those same Jesuit priests who had taught him in one of the Romish colleges of Brazil.

Lady Betty smiled at him yet again. "Thou'rt too modest, Master Philip,"

said she.

"Ay," added Gilbert; "but I have observed that Philip doth ever strive to avoid all vain boastfulness."

"'Tis a commendable quality," remarked his mother.

Clearly did it appear to Timothy Trollope that Philip had already won his way into the good opinion of his relatives, and that they were disposed to like him, not only because of his relationship, but also, as it seemed, because of a certain air of natural courtliness that revealed itself in his manner of speech. Moreover, there was an attraction in his dark handsome face and in his dreamy beautiful eyes which made him very winsome. Even Timothy, who had from the first taken a strong prejudice against him, could not but admit to himself that there was something of inborn n.o.bility about the lad which might give the lie to all that old Hartop had hinted regarding him.

Later on that same day, when Sir Walter Raleigh and his retinue had departed, Timothy took horse and rode in to Plymouth to attend the examination of the two poachers before Justice Oldfield. Jacob Hartop, Bob Harvey, and Jake Thew had ridden in advance of him, and he did not overtake them until they were on the outskirts of the town, at a little wayside hostelry where their horses were stabled, and thence they walked to the court-house.

Hartop and Timothy walked together along by the harbour, when, on approaching the quay against which the good ship _Pearl_ was now lying, they came upon a crowd of men--mariners, fishermen, and merchants--who appeared to be greatly concerned in some matter which was going on in their midst.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "AND HOW FARES IT WITH THEE, OLD SHIPMATE?"]

"Ah! I can e'en guess what 'tis," said Hartop. "'Tis Captain Evans putting up our crew of blackamoors to auction. He bought 'em over in Florida, lacking better hands, to work the ship home. Ay, and a sorry lot they proved, Master Timothy. I warrant he'll get scarce a half of the price he gave for them. Thou seest the black woolly poll of the tall African who is standing upon the wine-cask close against the auctioneer?

We named him aesop, by reason of his fables. He was once upon a time the reigning king of a country nigh unto Sierra Leone, with as many wives as there be days in the year. Captain Hawkins captured him and sold him to the Spaniards. He served as our cook aboard the _Pearl_, and I promise you he made such soup as the Queen herself might relish. As for his manner of cooking a cutting from off the side of a shark, why, Lor'

bless you, sir!--"

The old man broke off abruptly as a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder.

"Od's life!" exclaimed the hearty voice of Sir Francis Drake. "So 'tis thy very self, Jacob? Faith, thou'rt pa.s.sing nimble on thy feet, for all thy gray hairs. And how fares it with thee, old shipmate? Hast brought thy fortune home with thee?"

"Fortune, Captain Drake?" returned Hartop, grasping the knight's proffered hand; "Lor' bless you, sir, I'd none to bring saving only a handful of precious stones that were stolen from me within an hour's time of my landing. No, the great fortune that you wot of, and the _Golden Galleon_ that carried it, now lie at the bottom of the sea--a wealthy treasure-house that hath claimed tribute from many a good ship that you and I have known, Master Drake."

Sir Francis nodded.