The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane

"No," says I; "you're right, I must allow, Matthew; and now for your second reason."

"The second hangs on to the first, master; for it stands to reason that if we ran a fair chance of losing our own liberty by sticking to the road, we were in a poor way to save the female. I went a bit too far maybe in supposing that you had no certain scheme of your own for circumventing De Pino."

"No," says I; "you were in the right again there: I had no fixed purpose."

"You had a notion maybe that we might catch De Pino and his men all napping, and that we might just get away with the female before they woke."

I admitted that if I had any scheme at all it was no better than that.

"Well, master," says Matthew, "we must give the Portugals credit for having sense enough to sleep with one eye open after being warned that you were at large, and so you must see that it would be courting our own destruction to attempt any such design as that."

"Ay," says I, "but I sha'n't be content to escape destruction myself if my cousin is to be abandoned to a worse fate."

"True, master," says he; "but as her escape depends on our existence, we must insure the latter for to compass the former."

"There I agree with you," says I; "but do you, if you can, show me by what means you reckon to get at my Lady Biddy, for up to this you have only led me further away from her."

"Master," says he, "so far as my observation goes, the best part of mortal success has been achieved by the turning of happy accidents to advantage, and our success in this undertaking must likewise depend upon favorable circumstances coming to our hand. Nevertheless, we can do something, and the best chance of gaining a victory is to attack the enemy on the side where assault is least looked for; and so," says he, seeing I was pretty well driven to the end of my patience with his philosophy, "instead of hanging about in De Pino's rear, where he undoubtedly expects to spy us, we must get in front of him, where he as little looks to meet us as the man in the moon."

"And how on earth do you expect to get in front of him by coming down here?"

"By the river," says he, "where there are neither rocks to throw us over, nor briars to balk our progress."

"He will be leagues ahead of us, man, before nightfall," says I, in desperation.

"No matter for that; we'll be leagues ahead of him before daybreak. I warrant we'll be at Valetta a day before he arrives."

"Where is Valetta?"

"Valetta is a town on this river that he must pass through. 'Tis four days' march from here by road – a shorter journey than by the river; but we must advance while he is resting, journeying by night as well as by day. Turn and turn about, we need never stop at our oars save to eat our meals together."

"But we have no boat," says I.

"We must make one," says he.

I laughed, yet not merrily, and asked him if he expected we could make a boat in four days, when it had cost me four months and more to make a raft.

"Lord love you, master," says he, "we'll be afloat in four hours."

CHAPTER XLIV

IN WHICH MATTHEW PLAYS THE BEGGAR AND I THE FOOL

My comrade had no sooner made promise that we should be afloat in four hours than he started about carrying out his design.

There was in that swamp that bordered the river an amazing quantity of great cane-reeds, some twenty feet in height and more, and of these he began to cut down with his sword such as were most proper to his purpose, bidding me do the like, and choose those of last year's growth, which were dry, light, and of good girth. Nothing loath, I waded into the morass (with a care that I trod on no water-serpent) until I was pretty well up to my middle in water, and there I laid about me with a will, until I had cut as many as I could carry, which I then took to a point where the water was deep and free from this growth, and laid them beside Matthew's store. In this way we proceeded until we had laid up a good stock of these canes.

"Now," says Matthew, eyeing them, "I judge we have enough; so do you go, master, and cut me one of those plaguey vines that gave us so much trouble this morning, while I set these reeds shipshape."

Perceiving his object, I went up into the wood and cut ten or a dozen fathoms of the lianes, which, as I say, are like any ship's tackle for toughness and soundness. While I was about this, Matthew sets the canes out, with the thick end of one overlapping about three parts of its length the thick end of another in such a manner that (all being served and tightly bound with the liana at both ends, and again in two or three places towards the middle) they made a huge bundle about a yard through at its largest girth, and four yards long, tapering off at each end like a fishing-float. This being done, and the lianes bound securely to Matthew's mind, he begs me to lend him a hand at cutting away certain of the canes in the middle with my knife, which was tough work indeed (for the canes were prodigious hard), and labor we might have spared ourselves had we bethought us to dispose the canes differently before we bound them up; but this did not occur to us till we were pretty nigh the end of our job.

However, having cut out of the middle a space about four feet long by two broad, and as much in depth, our business was done.

This was the boat which was to carry us up the river, and Matthew was not a little proud of it; though I was still in a taking for fear it should turn over when we set foot into it, and capsize us both into the water; but this it did not, but carried us as steadily as we could wish, and capital good we found it for such a boat as it was.

For our sweeps or paddles we bound two stout canes together, stretching them asunder at one end and covering that part with a broad tough grass.

In this craft we made our way up that river three days and four nights, only stopping to take such rest as was needful and to procure refreshment. Many difficulties and perils we encountered by the way, but of these I have no space to tell had I the inclination, for it seems as I write that I have the same burning impatience which urged me on then to come to my Lady Biddy. Every obstacle that delayed progress enraged me. I could scarcely bring myself to let my comrade get his fair and necessary amount of sleep, but would be twitching him to awake ere he had got soundly asleep; for as to one sleeping in the boat while the other rowed, that we found impossible, because there was no room to lie down there, and necessary it was, for fear of cramps, at times to take our feet out of the water, which we had no means to keep from coming in betwixt the reeds.

But Matthew bore with me, seeing my great anxiety of mind, and that I did not rest a quarter as much as he; and though he grumbled again (but chiefly in pretense), he roused himself after the second or third twitch, and did all man could to give me hope. Indeed, a fellow of gentler temper, a more cheerful, kind friend, I never knew of his sex.

Soon after daybreak on the fourth day, having been at our sweeps a couple of hours maybe, we spied some fishing-canoes moored by the shore, and some little cot-houses hard by, by which we judged we had come to the outskirts of Valetta. Whereupon we drew into the bank, and going up through the woods to the top of a little hill, came upon tilled fields, beyond which lay the town, very gray and quiet in the creeping light of that early morning.

"Now, master," says Matthew, "the first thing is to learn if De Pino and his train have yet arrived in the town; and we can't do that standing here looking at it."

"Nay," says I, "I'm ready to go into the town at once if you are. But we must be secret."

"Ay," says he; "and for that reason you will have to bide here."

"I can not do that," says I. "Think, Matthew – she may stand in need of my help. I shall be mad if I stay here idle."

"Not so mad," says he, "as if you venture into that town. Look at your state. Could any man clap eyes on you without pointing you out to his neighbor?"

Truly I was in a sad pickle – my fine clothes that I had of Dom Sebastian rent in a hundred places with the thorns through which we had torn our way in escaping by the woods; no hat to my head; my silk stockings stained with the blood from my scratched legs and the mud of the morass; and my hands and face swollen with the bite of those flies that haunt the river.

"You look," continues he, "as if you had broke loose from a prison, and like nothing else; and if you be taken to task by the mayor, or other busybody, to account for your condition, your answer or your silence will at once betray you for a foreigner. So will you be clapped up in jail, and the female be worse off than ever."

I was forced to admit that he was in the right, and to ask what he designed.

"Why," says he, "I shall go into the town as a shipwrecked mariner, cast ashore off Buenaventure, fallen sick of a leprosy, and begging my way to my friends at Cartagena, and no one shall count this a lie by the bravery of my dress."

Indeed he looked beggarly enough, having not a rag of shirt to his back, nor any clothes but his shoes, breeches, and a jacket of skins, with an old hat that no one would have picked off a dust-heap.

"In this guise," continues he, "may I go all through that town, asking alms in good Portuguese, so that men will be more glad to get out of my way than to stop me. And if, when I have been to all the inns and places of rest, I find De Pino is not yet come, I will sit me down against a church-door, the town gate, or elsewhere most convenient for spying who enters by the road from Darien, and wait there till nightfall, when I will come again to you. And, lest I get no broken victuals, do you have a good supper ready by way of alms to give a hungry beggar."

I promised him he should not lack for food.

"Now, master," says he, "give me something as a token that I may slip into the female's hand, when I go to beg of her, as she passes, whereby she may know that you are at hand."

I was greatly pleased with his forethought, which showed a kind consideration for Lady Biddy's happiness, and delighted to think I might thus communicate with her. So, undoing my waistcoat, I cut a fair piece from the breast of my shirt, which was of fine linen, and having pierced my finger with a thorn I contrived to trace "B. P." on this rag with my blood.

Meanwhile Matthew had gone about to find some purple berries which he crushed in divers places upon the flesh of his legs and face, so that when he came forth I scarcely knew him again, as he looked for all the world, by reason of this disfigurement, like one who was sore of a plague.

"I wager," says he, "no one will want to lay hands on me now; and as for De Pino, he will turn away in disgust at the first glance, for these Portugals pretend to have mighty nice stomachs. Howsomever, I must give myself another touch or two to deceive his eye."

Therewith he takes his knife and saws away at his bushy beard until he had brought it down to a point, after the Portugals' mode. Then he begged me to crop the hair of his head, which I did forthwith; and to see me a-trimming his head with my sword was a sight to set any barber's teeth on edge. This done, he give me his sword to take charge of, and hides his knife inside his jacket, with my token for Lady Biddy. Then folding his arms on his chest, drawing up his shoulders to his ears, and putting on a most woe-begone look, he asks me if I think he will pass muster.

"Ay," says I, "you are horrid enough, in all conscience; but with those loathsome-seeming sores upon you I doubt if my cousin will care to take my token from your hand."

"Lord love you, master," says he with a laugh, "if you knew as much of females as I do you would have no doubt on that head. There's no disguise will deceive their eyes when they have a man in their thoughts; and," adds he in a graver tone, "there's no form of distress will make them shrink from a tender office."

He gave me his hand, bidding me farewell, and went his way with a shuffling gait and a sly leer back at me to show me he understood his business.

I watched him until he entered the fields, where the tall plants presently hid him from my sight. Then I bethought me to set adrift our boat, which might have excited curiosity and suspicion had it been seen by any one passing on the river; and this I did, after cutting the lianes that bound it, so that it might go to pieces as it went down with the current. After that, with a sling I managed to kill half a dozen birds, about the size of pigeons, and these I cooked in the midst of the wood, where the smoke from my fire might not be seen. Also I gathered some good fruit, and of this food I set by enough to serve for a meal when Matthew returned. Then I sat me down at that point whence my comrade had departed, watching for his return through the fields.

Hour after hour I sat there, turning my eyes neither to the right nor to the left, for my eagerness to see him again, and my thoughts all the while running on my dear lady; but no reflections worthy to be recorded. The sun sank and the twilight faded away; but the stars were bright in the sky before I heard any sign of Matthew; then I caught a snuffling, whining voice, which I knew to be his, crying:

"Is there 'ere a kind friend will give a bit to a poor sick seafaring man?" at the same time I perceived a figure coming towards me.

"What news, Matthew – what news?" I cried, running to meet him.

"Plenty," says he; "I've done a rare day's business."

"Lord be praised!" says I; "what have you learnt?"

"That a canting rogue may earn more in a day than an honest man in a week."

"What else, what else?" says I impatiently.

"That for winning true respect there's naught like sham sores."

"For the love of Heaven do not torment me! What of my cousin?"

"Oh, she has not yet come into the town," says he; "nor will she to-night for certain; the gates were being shut when I crawled out. I told you, master, we should get here a day before De Pino."

On this I heaved a great sigh for disappointment.

"Lord love you, master," says he, "don't heave a sigh like that afore you're married, or you'll have none left for a better occasion."

This pleasantry made me sadder that before, for it put me in mind that, come what might, Lady Biddy could never be mine, nor I anything to her but as a poor faithful servant.

"Cheer up, master," says Matthew. "You may wager that if I haven't brought you one sort of comfort, I've brought you another. Feel the weight of this."

I then perceived, for the first time, that Matthew had a load on his back.

"What in the world have you got there, friend?" says I, feeling the great distended skin bag he carried.

"Wine, master – wine of the best, and a couple of gallons of it."

"How did you come by it?"

"Honestly. I paid for it with good silver, and I've enough left against times of need. For, you see, while wholesome beggars were taken into the kitchen for a paltry mess of broken victuals, I no sooner showed my face in a doorway but a silver piece was tossed into the road to get rid of me. Bless every one with a nice stomach, say I; they give me the whole street to myself when they catch sight of me, and go a roundabout way to their goal. You wonder why I wasn't turned out of the town. Lord love you, there was not a constable had the heart to lay his hand on me. A sort of a kind of a beadle came and looked at me from a distance, and I was half afeared he meditated getting me shot with a long gun; but when I sat me down peaceably in the church-door, he saw I could do no one any mischief there, and so went away to trounce some silly folks who were trying to turn a penny or two with a dancing dog."

In this manner did he run on, telling me of his adventures during the day, until all our birds were eaten and the wine-skin half empty, when he laid himself down, chuckling over the prospect of a long night's sleep, and warning me not to arouse him too soon, as he had been forced to wait an hour at the gates.

"And," says he, "if I show myself an early riser, they may well doubt if I be a true beggar."

CHAPTER XLV

WE GO FROM VALETTA TO SEEK MY LADY BIDDY ELSEWHERE

The next day seemed to me as if it would never come to an end, having nothing much else to do than to watch for Matthew's return; and what made it more tedious and wearisome was that my comrade had started bidding me expect him back before midday.

"For," says he, "the next station, if I remember right, is but a matter of four or five leagues distant; so that, starting betimes, they must needs arrive about ten or eleven at the outside."

When he came not at noon I began to torment myself with fears lest some mischance had happened to Matthew; either that he had been clapped up in a bridewell to cure him of his sores, or had been recognized by Lewis de Pino, to his great misfortune. And though this was grievous enough to think on (for I loved the kind, honest rogue), yet it was nothing beside the concern I felt for Lady Biddy had such an accident arrived; for while I was lingering here, with my hands idle by my side, Lewis de Pino might be hurrying away with her to Quito.

As soon as the first star began to twinkle I could bear this suspense no longer, and started out towards the town; for if Matthew were free, I knew he would leave the town when the gates were about to be closed. About half a league from the town I met him (to my great joy), and my first question was what news he had brought with him.

Instead of beating about the bush and making a joke of my impatience, he answered, very soberly, that De Pino and his train had not yet entered the town.

"Hows'mever," says he, "there's no call to be cast down about that matter, for I may very well have made a mistake in the distance, seeing I have traveled over the road but once, and that ten or a dozen years ago. One thing is certain, master – they must arrive to-morrow, and this delay is all to our advantage, since it has given me time to pry about the town, and examine in what manner we may best contrive to get the female out of De Pino's hands."

Therewith he entered into the design he had formed for this purpose, describing the inn at which the merchants stayed, with the means of getting out of the town, and into it, without passing the gate, etc., etc., in such detail that he gave me no time to think of anything else till we had eaten our supper and emptied the wine-skin, when he declared he was too tired to converse longer; and so, laying himself down, bade me good-night and presently began to snore.

But then, my mind being no longer occupied with his return, I grew uneasy again about this delay, and could not close an eye for my trouble. I had noticed that Matthew was much less merry than usual, and now I took it into my head that the long-winded description of the inn, and his ingenious project for rescuing "the female," was nothing but a design to divert my mind, and make his own uneasiness less noticeable.

'Twas useless attempting to sleep in this disorder of mind, and I could no longer lie still when day broke; but getting up quietly, so that I might not awake Matthew, I went to a little distance and paced backwards and forwards with a heavy heart. Presently Matthew, getting up, comes to my side, and says he:

"Can't you sleep, master?"

"No," says I.

"No more can I," says he, "and I took a pretty stiff dose of wine, too, for my nightcap. I ha'n't slept a wink all night."

"You've snored pretty continually, nevertheless," says I.

"As for that," says he, "I'm a man that must be doing something; and 'tis as easy to snore as to wear spots on your face; but one is no more a sign of sleep than t'other is of a distemper."

"Why couldn't you sleep, Matthew?" says I. "What's amiss?"

"Well," says he, "De Pino and the female ought to have come in yesterday morning at the latest."

"But you said you might have made a mistake as to the distance?"

"So I might," says he slyly; "but, to make quite sure, I took the pains to inquire last night of my friend at the inn, outside the town, and I found I had not."

"Then you believe they ought to have been here before now?" says I sharply.

"Yes, master," says he gravely. "They ought to have come in the night afore last, or yesterday morning at the latest. When it came noon yesterday I gave them up; yet I stayed there in the hope I was wrong. First saying to myself that, being warned of your escape by the factor, he had thought it well to make an ambush, and wait for you to come up; and then that he had stopped for some reason of his business; but these arguments wouldn't do – and, to cut a long story short, I made up my mind when I saw the gates closed last night, and no sign of De Pino along the road for half a mile – I made up my mind, I say, that he had taken another road."

"Taken another road!" says I, in a terrible amazement.

"Ay," says he. "I can account for it in no other way."

"And why did you not tell me this last night?" I asks angrily.

"We could do nothing in the dark, and I hoped you would get a good night's sleep and be fresh for a march this morning," says he simply. "There was no good in plaguing you before your time."

I could not be angry with the fellow after that, for he was in the right, and, 'twas out of pure kindness of heart he had held his tongue.

"I though you were so sure of the road, Matthew?" says I.

"So I was, master; and more fool I. Don't spare me; I deserve all the blame, for 'twas I who would have you come by the river when you would have gone by the road."

"Did you make no inquiry about this road last night?"

"Ay," says he. "No other road to Quito is known to the innkeeper but this. Yet he may be as great a fool as I in that matter; and though De Pino could take no other road to Quito, he might, for all that, have turned aside to some other place."

"What do you propose we should do now, Matthew?"

"Get on to the road, and hark back as soon as there is light enough for us to pick our way. We will hit the road within sight of the town-gates before they are opened, to make certain they have not come up."

The poor fellow was so crestfallen, having now no heart to disguise his discomfiture, that to cheer him I professed to be in no way disheartened by this failure.

"For," says I, "there is this advantage about it: I shall not have to rest idle here any longer. 'Twill be light enough to begin our march in half an hour."

"Why, that's true, master," says he, brightening up; "and, not to waste time, we'll have a good meal to strengthen us against fatigue."

"There's nothing to eat," says I; "we finished every scrap last night."

"Nay," says he; "I laid out for that, and brought home a peck loaf and a roast loin of mutton with me last night."

I remembered he was pretty well charged when we met overnight, but had taken no heed of what he carried, thinking in the dark it was but another skin of wine.

"Parrots are all very well for high feeding, and so are serpents and such-like," says he, fetching his loaf and the loin of mutton, "but give me bread and roast mutton when there's work to be done."

When we had finished our repast, Matthew buckled on his sword, and we started off. Striking the road after an hour's march, and making sure that no cavalcade lay between us and the town, we turned our faces to the north, and strode out with a will: nor did we check our pace for two hours, albeit the way lay all up hill and none too smooth. We met not a soul all that time, for only merchants with their trains of mules, etc., pass this way, and they not frequently, so that for a whole week there may not be a single traveler to be met. Indeed, we had scarcely dared to travel that way otherwise, for our appearance would have justified any one in taking us for outlaws – I in my tattered finery, with a peck loaf slung on my shoulder, as great knife in my girdle, a long sword in my hand, and nothing but an uncombed crop of hair on my head; and Matthew likewise fiercely armed, with a wine-skin and a bundle of broken victuals at his back, scarcely enough clothes to cover his nakedness, and a complexion as if he had just escaped from a lazar-house – in fine, as unwelcome a knight and squire as any one might wish to meet. Nor were our movements much more reassuring than our appearance, for at every turn of the road we would stop with our swords firmly gripped, peering round the rocks and betwixt the bushes, as if we were on the lookout for some one to waylay and murder.