The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane

"Nephew Benet, – You are no longer safe in my woods, for I have no power to shield you from the law. Even now the officers are out to apprehend you, and God knows what may befall if you are taken. If you have any feeling for me, any love for your father's memory, or any respect for yourself, you will escape this new shame. My ships lie in the haven ready to depart, and Sir Harry is still willing to accept you as his companion and friend in the noble enterprise now toward. I do beg and implore you be not a fool and a villain as well, but quickly accept this offer. Rodrigues, who bears this, does undertake to carry you safe to Flushing, where a boat lies in readiness to take you on board the Sure Hawk, where you shall find all comfort and good cheer, to say naught of the loving gratitude of thine old uncle,

"Bartlemy Pengilly."

This gentle letter did somewhat move my heart; and surely its sensibility had been gone beyond all recovery had it not responded to so warm an appeal; and my first feeling was that I would do his bidding. Then I bethought me what a mean and sneaking thing it was, after refusing this offer when I was free to accept it when I was not free; and what a hang-dog cur I should appear to all the crew when my story became known, and how (under the mask of pity and patronage) Sir Harry Smidmore must scorn me for a paltry fellow. And with that came the remembrance of Lady Biddy's contempt; and, coupling these two together, I was wrought again with fierce jealousy and hatred; and I did resolve that I would die ten thousand deaths rather than give them this food for their scorn.

Rodrigues, subtly watching me, must have seen the madness in my eye, for he whispered at this point —

"Sir Harry is wondrous eager to get you."

"Curse Sir Harry!" I muttered.

"Not I," says he, with a quiet laugh. "He'll give me a score of gold pieces if I take you to him; and no wonder, for he will be well repaid with caresses when he takes the news to Lady Biddy."

"You'll get no pieces from him, nor he kisses from her, through me, I promise you."

"Your ears will be cropped for a certainty if you are taken back to Truro." And then, as I made no reply, he adds, "You are minded to break your uncle's heart rather than your own pride."

"Nay," says I, "there's a way by which I may spare him shame, and myself as well."

"Are you man enough to thrust a knife in your own heart?" says he.

"Ay!" says I joyfully; "do but try me. Give but my forearm fair play and lend me your dagger. You shall be rewarded, I warrant, when you tell Lady Biddy I am no more. Or do you thrust it into me if you doubt the use I should make of the knife. I promise you I will not awake a single sleeper with my groans."

He nodded approvingly, but made no attempt to take me at my word.

"Life isn't worth much," says he, "to a fool. And 'tis only a fool who thinks there's never another loaf to be got when he's eaten the last crust. Look at me," spreading his arms and surveying his rags – "a prince last month, a beggar today. What of that? I'll be a king next year. And so may you be," he adds, after a pause. But that did not tempt me; so presently he goes on:

"If you had seen what I have seen, and if you were as hideous as I am, and as old, yet you would not talk of ending your life. If you had seen as I have seen" – speaking slowly, yet with passion, as, through his half-closed eyes, he seemed to be looking at what he described – "a land where the forests are flower-gardens, more fair than hand of man can make; where trees – not like these stunted things, which are but bushes by comparison – where trees I say, seem hung with precious gems, and waters run on beds of gold and silver, and every rock is dazzling crystal; where rich fruits tempt the appetite they never cloy; where flying birds are like the flash of gems, and their song more sweet than your musician ever heard in dreams; where the sun never parches nor cold winds bite; where the gentle air is brisk as wine and charged with the scent of leagues of flowers: if you had seen that land, I say, you would want to see it again before you died."

These hints of southern glories I had heard before from my uncle; though between his speech and this poetic gipsy's there was all the difference betwixt north and south.

"To see this land might tempt you to oblige Sir Bartlemy," says he. Then, after a bit, he continues, "But it does not, I perceive. You know the intent of this enterprise – first, to gratify your uncle's whim; and, next, to enrich Sir Harry, that he may wed Lady Biddy. You have no relish to help him that way – to come home with a gruesome face to pull the joy-bells at their wedding?"

"No, by the Lord! that will I never do!" says I.

"Then your answer to that letter is 'No'?"

"A thousand times 'No'!"

"You refuse the offer?"

"I do."

"I see you mean what you say," says he, looking me keenly in the eye, "and I am right glad it is so. I am not mistaken in you, Pengilly. I saw there was mettle in you from the first, else I had not taken all this trouble on myself to win you. Had you said 'Yes' to that letter you would have had me for your enemy, and it would have gone ill with you, I promise. As it is, I am your friend, as I will quickly prove. For, first, I will give you freedom, and after that a voyage to the south; whence you shall speedily return, your ship laden with gold: then shall you have possession of your mistress. All this I promise; ay, and more, for you shall, if you will, revenge yourself of the insults this proud maid has heaped upon you, and humble the man who would have taken her from you, so that he shall not dare to show his face before her. What say you to this?"

I could say nothing on the moment, being greatly perplexed by this unexpected turn; and ere I could command my senses to inquire of Rodrigues how he purposed compassing that which he proposed, we were both mightily startled by hearing, at no great distance behind us, the sound of men's voices; and presently one above the rest set to hallooing "Jack Geddes! Jack Geddes!" which was the name of that sheriff's man who had bound me as aforesaid. Then on the other side we heard the men who lay asleep rousing each other with a great confusion of sound that showed they had discovered my escape. Thus we stood between the party which had taken me and a second party sent after to help them. And the chance of getting freedom, to say nothing of riches and my sweetheart, looked more unlikely than ever. Yet did we contrive to escape, as I shall set forth in the next chapter.

CHAPTER III

BY A CUNNING STRATAGEM I AM GOT OUT OF JACK GEDDES' HANDS, AND BROUGHT ABOARD THE "SURE HAWK."

The two parties of sheriff's men were distant from each other, as I took it by the sound of their voices, no more than a hundred yards, so that we could not burst away in any direction without hazard of being seen; and a foolhardy hazard it had been, for Jack Geddes and his party were armed with muskets, and would not have scrupled to use them. Yet how to escape did not appear until Rodrigues (as luck would have it) spied a fairly deep hole which had served at one time for a sawpit, and to this he hurried me, and we both leaped in, and there, in a twinkling, did he scrape aside the loose sawdust that lay at the bottom; and in the trough thus hastily made, I, seeing his intent, threw myself full length, and as quickly was smothered over from top to toe with the sawdust, so that nothing was visible of me.

By this time the two parties were joined, and there they set up a great shouting and cursing because I was no longer bound to the tree as I had been left. And not only did they curse me, but they cursed Rodrigues as heartily, vowing they would pepper him with their bullets as a faithless villain if they saw him. Whereupon this, Rodrigues, laying himself prone upon my body, set a most dismal groaning, like one in pain, hearing which Jack Geddes and the rest came rushing to the pit. Seeing him there all alone and doubled up as though he had been broke, half a dozen, in one breath, began to question him how he came there, what was amiss with him, etc. To which he replies with a groan:

"'Tis all along of that Pengilly! I was but dozing, when I heard one cry 'Jack Geddes'" (here a groan), "and the same moment I saw Pengilly with a mighty wrench tear himself from the tree. Up I started and after him, when, being but half awake, I threw myself in this cursed hole, and here have I broke my arm, I do believe. But do you leave me here (where I am as well as elsewhere), and catch the villain. I would not for the loss of both arms miss seeing his ears cropped."

"Ay! we will catch him: have no fear," says Geddes; "scatter yourselves, my fine fellows, and shoot down the rascal if you do but sight him, for we shall suffer for it if he escape us."

Whereupon the men, more concerned for themselves than for any hurt of Rodrigues, started off like hounds unleashed, and each, in his several direction, bent upon taking me again alive or dead. And it was none too soon, for the sawdust entering my mouth and nostrils when I breathed, I was pretty nigh choked – to say nothing of the oppression I suffered from the cords that pinned my arms and Rodrigues lying upon my back.

So when they were gone and Rodrigues, standing up and peering over the edge, said that all was clear, I lifted my head, shaking off the sawdust and spitting out that which had got into my throat, and breathed again.

"Now," said Rodrigues; "Now may we escape, for being all scattered, our pursuers are less likely to take us."

"Do but cut this cord," says I, "and I warrant not any two shall take me."

"Ay," says he, "I will cut your bonds with a good heart. But first you must swear to be secret and silent; nay, you must swear also to be obedient to my direction without question or murmuring, else will I leave you here to fare for yourself."

I promised him this, for I was in no position to haggle over terms; yet my promise was not enough for him, but he, taking his dagger by the blade, held it to my mouth, and would have me kiss the cross of it, swearing by that sign as a Christian to obey him in every particular. And this I did, the more readily because of the cord which Jack Geddes had knotted so cruelly about my arms that it bit into my flesh to my intolerable hurt.

Having thus made me take oath, he cut the cord, and I was free; yet for some time could I not use my arms with any freedom, by reason they were so benumbed and bruised. Nevertheless, I managed to scramble up out of the pit after Rodrigues, and thence, I following on his heels, with the stealth of any cats, we pushed our way by bush and briar through the thickest part of the wood, where, at sight of an enemy, we might lie down and be unseen. On we went, Rodrigues leading and keeping the sun well before, for a matter of three miles or thereabouts, without encountering any of my pursuers; and then, perceiving that if we kept on in this direction we must shortly come to Flushing, which lies (as I have said) on the hither side of the Fal, opposite Penny-come-quick, I twitched Rodrigues by the skirt and gave him to understand this, adding that there was not a fisherman there but knew me, and would have me hanged if he could; and this was true, for I was known and feared all round and about these parts, and held to be a wild man of the woods, very dreadful and dangerous, and a bogey to frighten children withal.

"I know well enough where I am going," says he.

"That may be," says I; "yet this is but a stepping out of the frying-pan into the fire, so far as I am concerned."

Whereupon he taps the handle of his dagger as a sign to me to remember my oath, and that is all the satisfaction I got.

So on we go again, still keeping the sun before up; and descending the hill anon we come to the river-side, and here Rodrigues stops, looking to the right and left, as if uncertain; then, putting his hand over his mouth, he gives the cry of "Cuckoo!" as natural as ever I did hear, and straight there comes an answer in the same manner from a thicket further up the river-side. Thither we made our way, but with great care, now being no more than a furlong or thereabouts from the village, screened off by a jutting point of land well timbered; and soon, passing through the said thicket, we came on a little creek, in which lay a boat, wherein sat a couple of seamen as tawny as Rodrigues, but stouter and better favored, albeit one lacked an eye.

All about this creek there lay an open space, from which an alley ran up into the wood; and, lest he should be observed, Rodrigues would not advance beyond the brush, whence he signaled his fellows to know if all were safe. And he with the one eye, rising up and stretching himself as if he were aweary, spied up the alley and all round and about, and then signaled, by winking his one eye, that he could see nothing; whereupon Rodrigues bade me cross the open quickly, get into the boat, and lie down under the sail that was there. He came not himself, but was gone when I got to the boat and cast my eye round for him. And here I may tell what I afterwards learnt concerning him. He made his way back with all speed to the sawpit, and lay there as if he had never budged when the men came back from their search after me, still feigning to be greatly hurt with his arm, though happily assured that it was not broken.

Meanwhile I, following his direction without knowing what the end thereof might be, got into the boat, and, lying down in the bottom, was covered over with the sail-cloth by one of the mariners, while the other loosed the boat from its moorings; and this was done none too quickly, for as the fellow was stepping into the boat from untying of the headline, who should come down into the open but John Geddes himself, as I knew full well by his voice.

"Hold, there!" says he, hailing the seamen. "Have you seen a great, sturdy fellow in a leather jerkin pass this way?"

"Not we," replies one; "and we've been on the lookout for such a man since yesterday afternoon – and a pox to him!"

"And, pray, who set you to wait for him?" asked Geddes, and his voice told that he was now close by the boat's side.

"Why, that's my master's business that sent us, and none of yours," said the fellow.

"Hold your clapper, Ned, and lend a hand with your oar," cries his mate, "for the boat is aground, and I can't shove her off. Yo, ho! all together! yo, ho? – there we be! Now off we go, Pengilly or no Pengilly, for, curse me," says he, "my in'ards will stand this griping no longer."

Then there sprang up a dissension between the two seamen and Geddes, who would have them ferry him over to Penny-come-quick, and they would not; and he, laying the stock of his musket on the gunwale to draw the boat so that he might step in, one of them flung it off, while the other fetched him a blow on the head with his oar that laid Master Geddes senseless on his back. Then says the first to the other —

"Lay to, Ned, for God's sake, or mischief will come of this."

All this while I lay still under the sail-cloth, expecting, for the most part, nothing less but to feel Geddes' foot step on to me. But his business being so concluded, I heard nothing more but the dip of the oars, the ripple of water under me, and the working of the rowlocks, until one of the men said to the other, "Pull under her lee, that we be not seen from the shore"; and the next minute the boat bumped, and the sail-cloth being whipped off, I found that we lay under the side of a fine, high ship.

"Up you go, comrade, quick," says Ned (he with one eye).

Then up the rope steps that hung by the ship's side I sped, and being come on deck was as speedily hustled down into the dark hold below, where they who had followed me down barricaded me round about with divers barrels, bidding me lie quiet until I should be told it was safe to venture forth.

And all this time I knew not that I had come as a runaway aboard my uncle's ship the Sure Hawk; but so it was.

CHAPTER IV

I COME TO THE CANARIES IN BETTER PLIGHT THAN I STARTED

When the seamen had hidden me away, so that no man not knowing the ways of the ship could well come at me save by discharging the hold of its stores, one brought me some meat and drink, and then I was left to myself in the dark. For some time all was quiet above, but about noon, as I judge, I heard a great bustle on the decks of pulling ropes and the like, and this continued all day until the evening, when the anchors were drawn up and the ship made sail. And the reason of this commotion was that Rodrigues, having got away from the sheriff's men, under pretense of seeking relief for his arm, sped him to Sir Bartlemy Pengilly to tell him how I had refused his offer, but had nevertheless gone aboard the Sure Hawk to escape the law; whereupon the knight, mightily pleased with this turn, ordered Sir Harry Smidmore, who then lay at his house, to lose no time in departing, but to take advantage of the breeze then springing up to set sail as soon as might be; and the stores being all aboard and the crew in readiness, Sir Harry set about this business at once. When the men stood at the anchor ready to heave away, Sir Bartlemy and Lady Biddy took an affectionate farewell of Sir Harry, and bidding him with tears God-speed and a happy return, quitted the ship. And so about eight o'clock that evening the Sure Hawk (with her companion, the Adventurer), sailed out of Falmouth Haven with me, Benet Pengilly, in the hold.

When we were fairly out to sea, Rodrigues came down to me with another fellow bearing a lantern, and bade me come out, and I was not sorry; for besides that it was extremely stuffy down there, so that there was no breathing with any comfort, the ship had begun to roll and pitch in such a manner that I feared every moment nothing less but to be crushed by some chest or barrel being thrown upon me, though, indeed, there was naught to fear in that respect, as I learned when I became better acquainted with the manner of these things. But, indeed, the sea ran unconscionably high, and the ship labored painfully all that night and the next day, and after that the next night again was no better, so that it was surprising to me that we had not foundered. Yet that was the last thing I feared, for, being miserably ill and as sick as any dog, I do truly think that had the ship split I should have made no effort to save myself.

I had been stowed away between decks among some bales of goods packed securely in the fore part of the vessel, and here I lay, with no comfort but a stone jar of water, until, waking from a sound sleep, it might be about noon and were now at sea three days, I perceived that the storm had greatly abated, and that my stomach was no longer qualmish, but quickened with a huge hunger – as well it might be after my long fast, etc. Then, feeling brisker than I had yet felt since we set sail, I sat up, and a savory smell sharpening my appetite, I got upon my legs, and so spied half a dozen seamen seated on chests under the light of the hatchway before a smoking mess of pork and pease. Thither I made my way, though not without difficulty, the ship still rolling immoderately, and begged civilly that they would let me eat with them. Whereupon one shoved the victuals toward me that I might help myself, but not a word, good or bad, did any of them speak, which was more noticeable because they had all been laughing and talking till they saw me. Presently a pipe sounded, and they all went up above; then down comes Rodrigues, and it was the first time I had seen him since we were at sea. He had on his sea skirt and large boots all running with water, for it still was exceedingly foul weather, and his hat tied down about his ears with a red kerchief. But he was in good spirits, and asked me cheerfully how I did as he seated himself beside me and helped himself to meat; and having answered his inquiry, I told him how the seamen scowled at me, and begged to know if I had done aught to deserve this ill-will.

"Why, yes," says he; "for had it not been to save you from the catchpoles, we should never have ventured to sea in such a rising gale. We have had no rest since we left Falmouth, and like at any moment to have gone to the bottom. For aught we know, our consort is lost, and all hands with her, not having been seen these two days. And this is a great loss, besides being a bad beginning to our enterprise, and all is set down to your charge. However, it is in your power to make them amends and win their love, and I make no doubt you will."

"With all my heart," says I, "if you do but show me how."

"All in good time," says he, tearing with his pointed teeth the flesh off a knuckle-bone of pork that he held in his hands; "all in good time. We can do nothing yet, but I look to you for help by-and-by, else had I not run all this risk for you. And yet," continues he, after a pause, flinging the knuckle-bone behind him – "yet it might be well for you to make friends with the captain at once. He asked to see you this morning."

"And who is this captain?" I asked, my curiosity awakening.

"Why, Sir Harry Smidmore, to be sure. Did I not tell you?"

"No," says I, moodily.

"Then you might have guessed it."

And this was quite true, if I had been in a humor for guessing.

"I have been trapped and despatched to sea to please Lady Biddy," says I, savagely.

"Well, you'll bear me no grudge for that. There was no way to save you but by getting you aboard the ship." Then, glancing round to see we were alone, he adds, dropping his voice, "And if Sir Harry Smidmore made to sea with you before you could escape, that he might please his sweetheart and keep you and her well asunder, 'twas no fault of mine. Don't you like it, Pengilly?"

I ground my teeth for response.

"Would you be even with him for this trick?" he asked, in the same low tone, and with a sinister leer.

"Aye, that I would!"

"So would I in your place," says he. "If a man served me that way, I'd – "

Here he stopped, and taking up a jack-knife, he stuck it in the deal board that served as a bench, and pressed on it till the blade came out on the other side, and while he did this his sinewy hand grasped the board as if it were a throat, and his lips were drawn back close to his pointed teeth; then he looked sidelong at me, saying never a word, as if to know how I took this hint.

"I am no murderer," says I, terrified by his manner as much as by his suggestion.

"Why, who said you were?" says he, with great show of indignation. "Cannot a man by steady endeavor go through a difficulty as I have gone through that board with this knife without doing a mischief? What a fool should I be to counsel you to such an end when our true success depends upon you being good friends with our captain. Nay," he adds, "if I thought you would curb your spirit to it, I would beg you to take Sir Harry's hand, when he offers it to you, and accept his friendship."

"That can I never do."

"So I thought. Howsomever, you must do him no injury or insult at this present. And, harkye, I know it for a fact that he wants to give into your hand a sum of money entrusted to him by your uncle for your particular use, that you might furnish yourself presently with an equipment worthy of his nephew; and this you must not refuse to take. Laugh as scornfully as you will, but you must take it, and I will tell you for why. When we get to a port, you will have to make the crew merry in return for the hardships they have suffered on your account. You must win them to your side, for we can do nothing else."

"They shall have every penny I get, and welcome. But tell me what you mean when you say we can do nothing without having the men on our side?"

"I mean," says he, "that without them you will get neither riches nor your sweetheart."

"And how, having them, am I to win these ends?"

"Leave that to me. I have promised the achievement, and if you do but work patiently upon my instructions, I will not fall short of my word. More than this I can not now tell you, but you shall know more hereafter. For the present, you can do nothing but win the affection of the men, and the captain also."

All this was a great mystery to me, and I could nohow fathom to the bottom of it: this only was clear, that I must follow Rodrigues' bidding, not only because I was bound to do so in a certain measure by reason of my oath, but also because it was good policy. So when I had refreshed myself by sousing my head in a bucket of water, I went above, and, holding on by the bulwarks, was much amazed with the sight of the heaving seas, which I had never before seen as now, all around me, and the way in which the great ship would dive down into the hollow of a wave as if to perdition, and yet the next moment ride upon the crest of it as light as any duck.