The Quest Of The 'Golden Hope' Part 6

My head throbbed painfully, and, putting my hands to my forehead, I found that it was bound with a wet rag. As I moved my arm Bruno thrust his muzzle against my hand with a low bark of joy; the faithful dog had evidently followed his master in his fall.

I tried to raise myself into a sitting posture, but the exertion was too great, and with a stifled exclamation of pain I fell back.

"Lie still, young maaster," exclaimed a gruff though kindly voice.

"You'll be safe enow wi' us."

"Give him a drink o' water," said another. "He'll do better sittin'

up."

With that I felt myself raised and propped against the wall of the cave, so that I could look about.

Eight or ten men, dressed in rough clothing, some with peajackets, others in tarpaulins, were either seated on the ground or standing with folded arms regarding me intently. Two or three had pistols stuck in their belts, while a pair of heavy cutla.s.ses and a bundle of stout staves, some with iron spikes, were placed in one corner of the cave, which was roughly three-sided, and formed by hands, as far as I could make out in the subdued light.

In the centre of the cavern was the trunk of a young tree, its upper portion leaning against the aperture overhead, while the branches had been lopped off sufficiently close to the stem to allow of the stumps being used as a rough ladder. Two small casks, an earthenware vessel containing water, a heap of clothing, and a coil of rope completed the utensils of this subterranean retreat.

"You'll be the son of Cap'n Foul-weather d.i.c.k?" asked the man who had first spoken.

"Yes," I replied, for my questioner had used the name by which my father was frequently called by the seafaring population of Lymington.

"'Twas well for you I knew it, for when you came tumbling down that hole we thought 'twas the sogers, and Bill 'ere got ready to knock you over th' head. D'ye know me?"

I looked at the man as intently as my throbbing head would allow, then at his companions. Like an inspiration a thought flashed across my mind.

"Yes," I answered. "Ye are the men who went with Captain Miles to the West."

"Aye," said the man referred to as Bill, "an' well we know it. Look 'ee, young maaster, can we trust ye to keep your mouth shut on this business?"

"I have as weighty a matter on my mind now," I replied. "You can count upon my silence."

"The youngster's true enow, 'Enery," said Bill. "Maybe he'll lend us a hand afore long. Look you," he continued, addressing me, "there are but eleven left of the score of Lymington men who marched to help the Duke o' Monmouth. Kitt Binns, Carrol Tanner, Cripps, Fred Dadge--they went down in the fight; young Garge Pitman the red-coated devils took near Bridgwater. They strung him up on a gallows at the roadside. Poor fellow, he didn't half give 'em a rough time afore they did the dirty job, an' I was up to my neck in a ditch an' saw it all, yet couldn't bear a hand to help him. That makes five. What happened to the rest of us we don't know--taken, doubtless, after the fight. Anyways, Cap'n Miles, Joe Scott, Sammy Cross, an' Long Bristowe won't see Lymington again, I fear, though we aren't much better off on that score."

"Captain Miles!" I exclaimed. "Why!----" I broke off, though reasoning that as these men had confided in me, there was little harm in telling them of Captain Jeremy's hiding-place in our house.

"What of him?" asked several of the men.

"He is alive and well; I saw him scarce two hours ago."

"Hurrah!" exclaimed the men, but softly, for they durst not shout lest the noise should betray them.

"Alive and well, say you?" repeated 'Enery, a burly, bearded seaman who, it seemed, had no other name. "'Enery" he answered to, and 'Enery he remains till the close of my story. "But, young maaster, 'tis a good six hours you've been lying 'ere."

"Six hours!" I exclaimed amazedly; then, remembering my father's condition, I attempted to rise.

"Nay, young sir," said Bill, noticing my effort, "you cannot go home without aid, and none can we give till Black Lewis comes. But concerning Captain Jeremy?"

In a few words I told them all I knew of the Captain's adventures, the men eagerly following every word.

"Tell him," said 'Enery, as I finished my story, "that ten stanch men await him here. Cooped up like rats in a hold, we durst not show our faces in Lymington, much less try for a ship; but with Cap'n Jeremy to lead us, we'll shape a true course yet. Tell him also----"

A low cry like the call of a forest stag for its mate broke upon our ears. Twice 'twas repeated.

"'Tis Black Lewis," said one of the men, for my information, and the next instant the bushes overhead were thrust back, and a man began to descend the rough ladder.

Black Lewis gave no sign of surprise at seeing a lad in the cave. I knew him by sight, and also by repute--a short, shrivelled-up little man, with a head that seemed too large and heavy for his body, wrinkled face, ma.s.sive and protruding cheek bones, and sandy-coloured hair. He lived mainly by his wits, killing adders that infested the forest glades, hawking the skins of animals he caught, and, no doubt, poaching, though he had as yet managed to escape being branded as a felon. Some would have it that he was dullwitted, yet those who thus avowed had often cause to fear his tongue, which was as sharp as a rapier. He was dressed in loose, home-made garments of moleskin, and carried a long forked stick in his hand, not even relinquishing it when he descended the tree trunk. Over his back was strung a canvas bag, from which he produced a hare, some eggs, and a flagon of ale.

He readily consented to a.s.sist me to my home, and having bade farewell to the refugee seamen (who had persuaded me to lend them my fowling-piece), I was slung up the shaft by means of the rope, Bruno being carried up on the shoulders of one of the men. Once in the open air I walked strongly, though twice or thrice I reeled, and would have fallen but for my companion's a.s.sistance.

At the entrance to our grounds Black Lewis left me, and just as I gained the door Captain Jeremy met me. By the look on his face I knew that some thing was amiss.

"They have searched for you high and low, Master Clifford," said he; "but thanks be you are safe! Come at once and see your father, for----"

"He is not dead?" I asked anxiously.

"Nay, lad, but be prepared for the worst. Master Blackwood says he'll not last the night. If so, he'll pa.s.s away before the young flood sets in."

CHAPTER VIII

Concerning the Events that Prompted Me to a Desperate Resolve

My father had been removed to his room, and was now lying on his bed, his head and shoulders raised and supported by pillows, for the nature of his wound had caused him to fight hard for breath.

He was now quite conscious, though very weak. Captain Jeremy afterwards said that what with cupping and applying leeches Master Blackwood had kept down the fever, but had also done his patient more harm than good.

My father knew full well that the end was at hand, yet he faced it manfully, like the stanch old seaman he was. I fancy his voice faltered when he spoke to me of Constance, but beyond that he was calm and collected, giving me advice as to my future, and preparing himself for the end.

'Tis unnecessary to dwell upon the events of the next few hours, for the remembrance of that mournful time is an affair for the minds of our own family; but just before midnight, at dead low water by the sh.o.r.e, as Captain Jeremy had predicted, my father pa.s.sed peacefully away.

Neither do I care to relate too minutely the happenings of the following week. There was, according to custom, an inquest, but by mutual consent Captain Jeremy's name was left out of the case, although we were considerably ill at ease lest old Martha should babble on't.

Two days after my father had been laid to rest under the great yew tree in Brockenhurst Churchyard I received a letter from my uncle, John Hammond, stating that, in accordance with arrangements made with my father many years ago, he would take up his abode in our house, and look after the estate.

Captain Jeremy took his departure before my uncle arrived, and joined the party of Lymington seamen in the cave. He gave me his a.s.surance that his understanding with my late parent would remain as before, and that he would, to use his own expression, "keep his weather eye lifting", and endeavour to find a means of procuring a stout craft, in order to prosecute his search for the _Madre de Dios_ treasure.

Shortly after the arrival of my uncle I had an attack of smallpox, which, Heaven be praised! left me unmarked. Master Blackwood, the chirurgeon, tended me with the utmost care, though at the time I feared his remedies more than I did the disorder.

August had run its course, and September was well advanced ere I could get abroad once more, and during that time much had happened relating to the ill-fortuned rising in the West.

Monmouth's head had rolled on the scaffold on Tower Hill, and Jeffreys had completed his circuit of the West, leaving behind him a never-to-be-forgotten record of cruelty, infamy, and shame, while his brutal actions in condemning Lady Alice Lisle to the stake sickened even the most loyal supporters of King James.

Then, and only then, did I realize the risk we had run in harbouring Captain Jeremy; yet I had learnt to look upon him as the one stanch friend in my solitude, and as such I would right willingly take all chances could I but render him further aid.

At the first opportunity, directly I felt strong enough, I crossed the heath and stealthily approached his place of concealment. In vain I gave the call of the red deer, for no welcome reply came from the yawning pit; and when at length I descended by the rude ladder I found the place dank and deserted. Captain Miles and his men had gone--whither?--to bondage, or to freedom?

Neither did I from that day set eyes on Black Lewis; he, too, had vanished, and thus all chance of communicating with the honest Captain seemed to be hopelessly lost.