The Golden Galleon Part 14

"True, Jacob, true," said he with a sad smile that seemed to betoken a world of melancholy memories, "and the last long home of many a goodly man of Devon that hath been our shipmates! Ay, man, and thou hast lost it, eh? Why, 'twould have made thee one of the wealthiest men in all England had it been brought home here to Plymouth. But I had e'en guessed that some such dire misfortune had befallen thee when I heard that thou hadst come hither aboard this worm-eaten old craft, the _Pearl_; for well did I know that friend Hartop must surely have been put to the hardest of shifts ere he would consent to sail i' the same vessel as Master Jasper Oglander. And, touching that matter, Jacob, how came it I pray you, that Jasper got possession of any ship of Sir Walter Raleigh's?"

"He had chartered her for the homeward voyage," answered Hartop, "and spent his last groat in victualling her. Master John Evans was our captain, the command falling to him on the death of your old friend, Will Marsden."

"'Tis a fact, then, that Will is dead?" cried Drake in a tone of surprised inquiry, as he gazed across the harbour. Then lowering his voice and touching Jacob on the shoulder he added: "Prithee, Jacob, answer me this--had he you wot of aught to do with Will's death?"

"Hush!" cautioned Hartop, suddenly gripping Drake's arm. "Here cometh Jasper himself!"

Timothy moved aside while Jasper Oglander strode along the causeway with silent tread, his eyes bent on the ground as if he were absorbed in some important business that required his deepest thought. As he pa.s.sed nigh, however, he raised his eyes and looked out from under his wide sombrero hat full into Drake's face. His own face became very red, all except the scar on his cheek, which remained of a dead white colour. He quickly averted his gaze and pa.s.sed on without a word, hastening his steps somewhat.

Sir Francis Drake and Jacob Hartop exchanged meaning glances.

"You see he doth still bear the mark of the cut you gave him across his craven face," remarked Hartop as he watched Jasper crossing the muddy street.

A grim smile played for a moment upon Drake's handsome, ruddy countenance as he answered:

"Ay, marry. And i' faith 'twas a pretty enough cut for him to remember me by--eh, Jacob? I warrant me he ne'er looks in his looking-gla.s.s without minding of the occasion of it. And yet methinks I might well have dealt him a severer blow without blame, for he had surely done for me outright had you not so timely warned me of his evil purpose. Dost remember, Jacob, how he came stealing aft to my cabin, with the moonlight glinting on his naked rapier--how he silently pushed open the door, and then, believing me to be slumbering, prepared to do his work?"

"Right well do I mind it," returned Hartop with a grave shake of the head. "And greatly have I marvelled ever since how it came that you let him off so easily. Any man less forgiving than yourself would a.s.suredly have had him slung up to the yard's-arm for attempting so foul a deed."

Timothy overheard this part of the conversation, but, not wishing to seem to take interest in other people's affairs, he strode a few steps away and stood at the edge of the quay looking down upon the untidy and now deserted deck of the _Pearl_. But what he had heard had nevertheless given him occasion for reflection.

"So 'twas a falsehood he told when he declared to my father yesterday that the wound was made by an Indian's arrow," he said to himself as he leaned against the granite pillar round which one of the ship's thick ropes was bound. "I might even have guessed as much, for the cut is not one such as any arrow could make. Certes, I wonder what Master Gilbert will think of his uncle when he doth learn what manner of man he truly is! Methinks I was not so far in error, after all, when I said that I distrusted him, although 'twas no more than mere instinct that gave me that feeling concerning him. But I now have warrant for my opinion, in all conscience, and if I make not a huge mistake, some grave trouble will ere long spring out of his coming to Modbury Manor; for it seemeth that he doth intend to take up his residence in my lord's family. Ay, faith, and a mighty pretty gentleman he is to be counted one of so n.o.ble and honourable a household!"

Timothy's anxiety grew deeper and deeper as he continued to review the situation. It was not the mere discovery that Jasper Oglander was untruthful which disturbed his peace of mind. It was not even the thought that there might, after all, be some reason in the accusations which Jacob Hartop had made against him in the earlier morning. It was the reflection that, as he had just now learned, this Jasper Oglander had once treacherously attempted to take the life of Sir Francis Drake.

In common with all English boys at that time Timothy Trollope had a regard for the great seaman and warrior which amounted to reverent worship. Sir Francis Drake was to him the n.o.blest hero in all the world--a hero who could do no wrong, and who had won for England a glory that could never die; and just in proportion as he honoured and reverenced Sir Francis, so did he now detest the man who, for whatsoever cause it may have been, had attempted that hero's life.

Had Timothy been bold enough to follow Jasper Oglander instead of waiting as he now did upon the busy quay, he might have learned something more of the man's treachery. But Jasper was not the man to allow himself to be caught unawares, or to afford any stranger the slightest chance of prying into the secret matters that he had at present in hand. Having crossed the street, he walked on for a few yards looking unconcernedly about him, and then turned in at the front porchway of the Three Flagons.

Pa.s.sing through the little parlour of the hostelry, where some seamen and merchants sat before the fire gossiping and drinking, he mounted the narrow dark stairs, and, arriving at the second landing, pushed open a creaking door at the end of the corridor. The room that he entered was a small, plainly-furnished apartment, in the front gable of the house, whose side walls sloped upward at a sharp angle, meeting above. A charcoal fire burned in a brazier in one of the corners, and near it on the floor a youth lay sound asleep. Jasper went up to him, listened to his breathing for a few moments, and then strode to the little cas.e.m.e.nt window and looked down upon the quay where Drake and Hartop still stood talking together. He watched them until they parted, and when Timothy Trollope and Hartop had gone their way to the courthouse be glanced once more at his sleeping companion, drew a chair to the little centre table, and sat down with his elbow on the table and his head resting on his hand. Thus he remained for many minutes, ruminating.

"And yet, what should it matter to me whom the old man hath speech with?" he presently murmured, as if arguing with himself. "He can tell naught Honest clown that he is, he had not so much as looked at the letter, for the seal was unbroken. He can, therefore, know naught of its purport. I warrant me Will Marsden was too cautious a man to venture to impart his knowledge by word of mouth, and if old Hartop doth not know, no man else can know. There cannot be a person in England, saving only myself, who doth even suspect aught of His Spanish Majesty's designs.

The treasure will be brought safely over to Spain, and then with a new armada well equipped we may snap our fingers at England's Drakes and Howards and her much-vaunted strength upon the seas. As for Elisabeth Tudor--we'll burn her at the stake, and a fitting end for the heretic Jezebel, say I!"

He thrust his hand into the breast of his doublet and drew forth first a little canvas bag, which he laid before him on the table, and then a soiled and crumpled sheet of paper, that was folded and refolded into a small parcel of the size of his own hand. This last he opened out in front of him. It was closely covered with writing. He glanced down the page, his eyes following his finger from line to line until he came to a little below the middle, and here he paused.

"Ay, by my faith, considering thou wert but a poor untutored mariner, thou hast put the matter exceeding well, Master Will," he muttered admiringly. "As for thy good counsel, 'twere wiser than most seamen could give. But 'tis useless now, seeing that Sir Walter Raleigh, for whom thou didst intend it, can neither receive it nor profit by it."

He stopped and shot a glance in the direction of the man lying before the fire.

"Art sleeping, Andrea?" he questioned in a low voice. But a deep-drawn breath was the only answer, and he again went on silently reading.

When he had got to the end of the paper he took it in his fingers and deliberately tore it into small shreds. He silently carried the fragments to the fire and cast them upon it, going down on his knees and blowing the charcoal into a glow until the paper caught alight and was consumed. Then, returning to the table he took up the little canvas bag, loosened its strings and poured its contents into the palm of his hand.

Glistening gems they were--emeralds that were clear and green as a curling ocean wave pierced by a shaft of sunlight; sapphires that were blue as a Pacific sea that reflects the azure sky; rubies that were as drops of crimson blood; together with many beauteous pearls and other precious stones, wonderful to behold. He counted them all one by one, made a mental estimate of their value, and then, smiling with satisfaction, returned them to the bag, which he carefully tied up and as carefully hid away in the breast of his doublet.

Having done this he stepped towards the youth near the fire, and, bending down, prodded him with his finger.

"Andrea!" he said. "Andrea! Come, wake up!"

Andrea turned over, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, and presently rose to his feet.

"Sancta Maria!" he muttered, "what a dream I have had! Methought I was engaged in a deadly duel, and that mine adversary had run me through!"

"Doubtless 'tis the recollection of your struggle with old Hartop,"

remarked Jasper, speaking, as the youth had done, in the Spanish tongue.

"But come, what of the errand I sent you out upon two hours ago? Didst discover aught of our friends?"

"That I did," replied Andrea, "and more easily than I had expected.

'Twas my father's friend, Don Miguel Fernandes that I met. He hath been a prisoner here in this town for the past two years, with his companions to the number of five-and-twenty. Some of the less important of them are confined in a strong-built house in the centre of the town, and are under the charge of one Master Richard Drake--a kinsman of the great Dragon. But some half-dozen Castilian gentlemen--survivors of the Armada,--who were shipwrecked in Ireland, are of the number, and these, it seemeth, are permitted to go abroad for six hours every day, having given their parole."

"And who are these same gentlemen? What are their names?" inquired Jasper. And when Andrea had named them he said: "A goodly company! By the ma.s.s, a most n.o.ble company! a.s.suredly Spain can ill afford to let them languish here when they might so easily be at home working for His Most Christian Majesty and our Holy Mother church!" He touched the youth's shoulder and added with grave earnestness: "Look you, Andrea, these gentlemen must escape from England, and that speedily, for there is no time to be lost."

Andrea looked up surprised and eager.

"Escape!" he repeated. "Ah! but how, senor, how?"

"Nay, I know not how," answered Jasper with a shrug, "but 'tis surely possible. I only marvel how it happens that they have not themselves contrived it long since."

"Ay, but they have given their word of honour," returned Andrea; "and thou knowest as well as I that a Spanish gentleman cannot break his word."

"Pooh!" cried Jasper. "'Tis no breach of honour to break one's word to heretics! But leave the matter to me, and, by our Lady, I'll contrive it, in spite of Drake and all of them." He broke off and glanced towards the door, which had been opened. A young negro woman stood upon the threshold. "What want you, Catalina?" he demanded.

She answered him in halting Spanish, saying that the senora her mistress had heard his voice, and had sent her in to ask him if it was his wish that she should make herself ready for the journey to Modbury.

"Tell the senora that we start in half an hour's time," said he; and then he turned to Andrea to further discuss the matter of the Spanish prisoners of war.

CHAPTER X.

A RAPIER AND A RIDING WHIP.

It was late in the afternoon when Timothy returned to Modbury, and when he had taken some food he made his way up the stairs to his young master's room. Gilbert was reading when he entered, but, at sight of Timothy, threw aside his book.

"Ah, thou'rt back!" cried Gilbert. "Well, what of the cut-purse gypsies, Tim? Didst see them?"

"Ay, full well did I see them," answered Timothy. "And Justice Oldfield hath dealt with them according to their deserts. They are men well beknown in the neighbourhood, Master Gilbert, and you must even yourself have ofttimes seen or heard of them. The elder of them, who is known as Red Bob, hath been in the lock-up once before for a like offence. His companion is a young seaman named Tom Lane. They both were armed with daggers. The third man who was with them in the stealing of the farm poultry, and who is supposed by many to have been the man whom you crossed swords with, is not yet arrested. Justice Oldfield tried to prove them guilty of the robbery of Jacob Hartop's wallet, but neither Jacob nor I could swear to their ident.i.ty. There was naught to prove that they were the same men that we encountered, so they were charged with the poaching alone and escaped a hanging on the accusation of highway robbery, and they have been thrown into prison, where they are to remain for the s.p.a.ce of six months."

"But surely there could be no possible mistake in supposing that they were the same men," remarked Gilbert. "I can well believe that it was not easy for you to recognize them, but the empty wallet was found near to the place where these fellows were caught, and there is certainly enough evidence in that fact alone to prove that the two crimes were committed by these same men!"

"So it might seem," returned Timothy; "but Hartop declared most positively that the men who attacked and robbed him in nowise resembled these poachers, and for my own part I was well-nigh as positive as he."

"And, prithee, by what token art thou so sure?" inquired Gilbert.

Timothy did not answer immediately. He was considering within his own mind whether he should give expression to his suspicions against Jasper and Philip Oglander. These suspicions had grown even stronger since he had learned more of Jasper's evil character, but he still had no other foundation for them than Jacob Hartop's a.s.sertion regarding the footmarks in Beddington Lane, and he felt the injustice of making any accusation of a definite sort. At last he replied somewhat falteringly:

"It seemeth to me, in so far as I can recollect, that the men we encountered in the dingle wore large wide hats such as seamen wear, whereas Red Bob and Tom Lane had small, close-fitting caps. Furthermore, as thou'rt aware, Master Gilbert, the man who crossed rapiers with thee and wounded thee was a skilful swordsman--a more skilful than any rogue and vagabond about these parts is likely to be."