Grace O'Malley. Machray Robert

Among the despairing wretches who flocked to the castle for protection it was impossible to single out the plotters, whose knavery they had themselves unwittingly disclosed in the Whispering Rocks, for everyone apparently was in the same evil case. A close watch, however, was kept on all the men who came in, and who were retained within the walls to help in the defence, while the women and children were conveyed to Clare Island, where they would be in safety.

Don Francisco dropped a half hint that Eva might better be sent to Clare Island until the fortune of battle had declared itself, but I knew that this would seem to her to be of the nature of deserting us at a time of crisis, and so the proposition was carried no further.

And all through the siege she moved a bright, winsome, and always cheerful presence, generally attended by the Wise Man, Teige O’Toole, who constituted himself her body-servant, and who, during this period, uttered no prophecies of evil, but cheered and sustained us with the certainty of victory.

At length, on the tenth day after my return to Carrickahooley, our spies came in from their lairs in the forests and hills with the news that the English army was camped two leagues away, and that it appeared to be the intention of its leaders to spend the night there. The spies described the army as an immense host, there being more than three hundred well-armed soldiers, besides a great swarm of the gallowglasses of Sir Murrough O’Flaherty of Aughnanure, who himself had accompanied the Governor.

When I inquired eagerly if Sir Nicholas had any ordnance, the spies averred that they had seen none. And, whether the difficulty of dragging heavy pieces through Connaught had been found insurmountable, or, strong in numbers and relying on the terror inspired by the name of the English, he had resolved to dispense with them altogether, I knew not; but to my mind the absence of these engines of war more than made up for his superiority over us in men.

Doubtless, his action in this respect was founded on the confidence he entertained that we were about to be betrayed to him by the traitors within the castle itself, nor could he dream that the galleries of the Whispering Rocks had given up his secrets to me.

All that night the guard, of which I was in command, stood to their arms upon the battlements; but there was not a sound save such as ever comes from the sleeping earth or the never-sleeping sea. The morning dawned still and fair, and the sun rose out of the world, tinting with a fresh bloom the slopes of the distant hills now purpling with the bursting heather, and changing the thin, vaporous mist that lay over land and water below them, into one great gleaming sheen of silver.

All that night, too, our spies lay concealed in the woods, and noted every movement within the English camp; and now, as the day advanced, they came in to report that Sir Nicholas was marching down to the seashore. By noon he had established himself in and about the Abbey of Burrishoole, no regard being had to the sacredness of the building. And here he halted for the rest of the day, probably being greatly surprised that we had not so far offered any resistance to his approach.

Now this ancient religious house stands on a rocky height looking across the small bay that is next to that on the edge of which the castle is built, and therefore the distance between the enemy and ourselves was so inconsiderable that it behoved us to be constantly on the alert.

In the evening, then, when the night-watch was posted on the walls and about the gate, I doubled the number of the guard, choosing such men, and those chiefly from my own crew of The Cross of Blood, as were of proved endurance and courage.

De Vilela had proffered his services, as my second in command, and I had given him charge of a picked company whose station was beside the gate of the drawbridge – that is, the gate on the landward side of Carrickahooley.

Grace O’Malley herself saw that everything was disposed according to her mind before she withdrew to the apartments of the women in the main tower. But well did I know that it was not to sleep that she had gone. She had now attired herself in the mantle, leather-quilted jack, and armour of an Irish gentleman, and her eyes were full of the fierce light of battle; but, deeming it likely to increase the confidence of her people if they saw her retire according to her usual custom, she had left us to ourselves.

I was leaning upon the edge of the parapet, gazing into the deepening darkness of the night, and musing on many things, when one of my officers came up, and informed me that among those who had fled to us for refuge from the English were certain kernes who passionately begged to be permitted to share the night-watch, being consumed with zeal against the enemy.

Knowing the treachery that was contemplated, Grace O’Malley had had all the refugees confined during the previous night within the buildings of the castle, and not suffered to go abroad except in the daytime, and now when I heard the request I felt a certainty that the men who made it could be no other than those whose voices I had overheard, and who were the traitors in the pay of the Governor.

As it was above all things necessary they should have no suspicion that we had any knowledge of their purpose, I gave my officer an answer in an offhand manner, saying I would see these kernes in a little while, and, if I found them likely to make good soldiers, might add them to the guard.

Debating with myself whether I should at once go and tell my mistress what I thought, and also, if I was correct in my surmise, what was the best way in which to proceed, so that the discomfiture of these men might be complete, the night grew apace, and still I had come to no decision.

Suddenly, a slight, scarcely-seen motion – so slight, so scarcely-seen that it might have been caused by the vagrant breath of a passing breeze, only there was a perfect calm – seemed to the keenness of my sea-trained vision to make itself felt by a sort of tremulousness in that breadth of shadow that lay opposite me under the cold gleam of the stars, which I knew to be the side of the hill on which was the abbey.

Sounds, too, there came, but so faintly that I could not disentangle them from the ordinary voices of the night. Then, as I strained my eyes and ears, both sound and motion faded away as in a dream. I waited and watched for some minutes, but all was as silent as death.

Thinking I might have been mistaken, I went down from the battlements, and calling to the officer who had spoken of the wish of the refugee kernes, I bade him bring them to me in a chamber that served as a guard-room.

As I entered, a solitary wolf-call came howling through the air, and then, as the kernes came in, there was a second.

The first wolf-call had startled me, for surely, with such a host near us, it was a strange thing for a wolf to be thus close at hand; but when I heard the second one there was no doubt left in my mind. These calls were no other than the calls of human wolves signalling each other.

So, bidding the men to be kept in the guard-room till I returned, I went to the gate, and told de Vilela that I conjectured the enemy was stealing upon us in the darkness to take us by surprise, expecting that their allies within our walls would have so contrived as to make the way easy for them, and I said I thought I could now put my hand on these very men.

When I saw the kernes again, they affirmed that they were three men of the O’Flahertys of Ballanahinch, between whom and the O’Malleys there was a friendship of long-standing. Now, between these O’Flahertys and the O’Flahertys of Aughnanure there was a desperate family feud, and their tale was not lacking in plausibleness. They appeared to be very eager to be employed against the enemy, and implored to be sent to help to guard the gate, which was the weakest part of our defences.

I replied that it was for me, and not for them, to say where they should be put, but that their prayer would be granted. As for the gate being the weakest part of our defences, how could they say that? Whereupon they were silent. However, I had now determined what I was to do, so I bade them begone to the company of de Vilela, who had no difficulty in understanding that they were the knaves of whom I had spoken to him.

A short time afterwards I saw the Spaniard, and communicated to him my plan, which was that he was to appear to give the kernes every opportunity of carrying out their designs, but, without seeming to do so, was not to lose sight of them for one moment, and that thus he would probably be in a position to defeat their intent.

To speak the truth, I did not see how I could act in any other manner, yet I was very uneasy, and, as the event showed, not without reason.

For I had been no more than back again at my place in the black corner of the parapet, when I heard a loud shouting at that angle of the wall next the sea, and the sound of blows. Running thither, I saw the dark forms of men climbing from ladders to the top of the wall, and the pale glitter of steel striking steel.

In an instant the whole castle rang with the cries of the alarmed guard, as they hurried from all sides to the point of attack, and torches blazed out from the tower. The glare from these lights fell weirdly on the forms of our people as they pressed on to mount the parapet, yelling with lusty throats the war-cry of the O’Malleys. I stopped and looked down on them, and as the dancing torches flew their flags of red and orange flame, now this way, now that, I noticed among the crowd the faces of two of the kernes whom I had sent to de Vilela.

To make certain I looked again. There assuredly they were, pushing on, and pointing to the place of assault, and shouting more loudly even than their neighbours. I asked myself why they had left the guard at the gate, and at once concluded that they must have slipped away in the confusion, for de Vilela was not likely to have given them permission.

What was their object?

And where was the third man? I could only see two.

There they were – the two whom I now plainly discovered stepping forward, apparently as keen for the fight as any of ourselves, making straight for the parapet, and helping to draw others along with them away from the gate of the drawbridge.

Was that it?

This thought came like the quick flashing of an inward light, and then was succeeded by another.

If this were so, then it followed that the attack we were engaged in repelling was a mere feint meant to deceive us, and that the real assault would be made – probably at the gate – while our attention was held elsewhere. In any case there were sufficient, as I conceived, of our gallowglasses now upon the walls to beat back the enemy, and I hastened toward the gate.

As I moved forward I was met by de Vilela and most of his company, and when I stopped and asked him why he had quitted his post, he replied that it was in obedience to a request from me which he had just received. Now, I had sent no such request, and the fear which had sprung up within me was at once confirmed, as it was evident that he had been duped by a false message, the result being that the gate was left nearly unprotected.

“Come with me,” I said, at the same time telling him quickly how the matter stood, and of the dread that possessed me. Such of our men as I encountered on the way I also bade turn about and follow me. Nor were we a moment too soon.

Drawing nearer, we could hear the rattle and the clank of the heavy chains of the drawbridge as it was being lowered, and the creaking of the ponderous gate as it swung inwards on its heavy hinges. The flames of torches blazing from the wide doorway of the main tower flashed upon the steel jacks and the gauntlets of English soldiers, dim-flitting in the half-gloom of the opening mouth of the gate.

The traitor had done his work and had done it well; yet it passes me, even to this day, to understand how he had been able to accomplish his end thus so swiftly and thoroughly.

“O’Malley! O’Malley!” I cried in a great voice that rang out far above all the din and disorder of the night, so that it reached the ear of my princess, who now came hurrying on along with some of the gentlemen of her household and a body of swordsmen.

“O’Malley! O’Malley!”

Behind me the pure deep tones of my mistress’s cry mingled with the hoarse, harsh accents of her people.

“O’Malley! O’Malley!”

Fierce and terrible beyond all power of words to express was the hardly human cry.

With a couple of bounds I had reached our foes. The glimmer of a sword passed by me, and I parried the point of a spear thrust at my breast. Then I felt my knees gripped, and I tripped over upon the body of the man who held me. As I stumbled, my weapon falling from my hand, I caught a glimpse of de Vilela standing over me, his long sword playing like lightning, holding the enemy in check.

There was a rush of feet, and across me and the man beneath me, as across a wall, did the battle rage.

I had fallen with my whole weight upon the man who had seized my legs, and I heard him gasp and sob and try for breath as he lay underneath.

As I felt along his form for his throat, I noticed that he wore no armour, and my fingers became as steel when I realised that this was no other, could be no other, than the traitor who had opened the gate. Whoever or whatever he was, his secret died with him there, for I did not relax my grasp upon his neck until I was well assured that I had twisted and broken it.

And when in the morning we found the body amongst a heap of slain, it was trampled out of all semblance of human shape, but not so as not to show the sign of the broken neck.

How I managed to roll myself out of that press and coil I cannot tell, but yet somehow I did it, and all the while I was strangely conscious that de Vilela’s sword watched and warded over me, so that I escaped with my life. This affair of mine took not so long in the doing as in the telling of it, and when I had struggled to my feet he was in front of me – ”Santiago! Santiago!” on his lips, as that long sword of his sang its songs of death. Plucking my battle-axe from my girdle I stepped to his side.

And now about us were my mistress and her fiery swordsmen, mad with rage and thirsting for blood. With wild screams we fell upon and fought back the Englishmen, who stubbornly contested every foot of ground, until we hurled them broken across the bridge, pursuing them for some distance beyond the castle. Then, facing round, we attacked from the rear those who had attempted to enter by scaling the walls; and perhaps some escaped in the darkness, but of those who were seen by us not one was spared.

So, favourably for us, our first fight with the English came to a close.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE GATE OF FEARS

During what of the night remained we continued under arms, expecting that the attack might be renewed, but the morning – another sunny splendour – came, and we were undisturbed. We were now in a better position to estimate what had occurred, and the peril from which we had so narrowly escaped.

The number of our dead and wounded was not great, but among the latter was Fitzgerald, who had been by the side of Grace O’Malley in the fight for the gate. Eva O’Malley, along with Teige O’Toole, the Wise Man, who was also a mediciner, and skilled in the use of herbs and simples, ministered to the wants and relieved the pangs of the sufferers, as far as lay within her power.

And as she passed in and out among them, her passing seemed to me, and to others I doubt not, as the passing of an angel. My mistress and de Vilela were unhurt, and I had nothing more than some bruises to show for my share in the battle.

Neither among the killed nor the wounded could the two traitorous kernes be seen, and I feared that they had contrived to make good their flight, a thing which did not appear improbable considering the darkness and confusion of an assault by night. However, I had every portion of the castle searched and scrutinised with the utmost care, and finally the knaves were found hiding in a storeroom, which held a large quantity of loose corn, and there, amongst the grain, they were discovered nearly suffocated.

They had deserved no mercy and they were shown none. Desirous of knowing who they in reality were, and of obtaining any information they possessed of the purposes of the Governor, I ordered that they should be taken into one of the underground dungeons, and put to the question.

But they were stout of heart, being, as I think, no common men, so that torture even failed to worry their secrets from them. When Grace O’Malley heard that they could be forced to disclose nothing, she directed that they should be taken and hanged from a great gallows-beam, that sprang out from the summit of the tower, and which could be plainly descried by the English from Burrishoole.

No sooner had the fight for the gate come to an end, than I became greatly disturbed in my mind as to the debt I felt myself to be owing to de Vilela, for, had it not been for that marvellous sword-play of his I had never come out of the fray alive.

That was the kind of debt in payment of which a man might almost give his all, even life itself. In what way was I to discharge it? I consoled myself with the thought that the chances of warfare might provide me with the opportunity, but if not – what then?

The matter lay heavy upon me, and that Don Francisco was my rival for Eva’s love, and, as I was more than half disposed to imagine, my successful rival did not make the burden of it the lighter to bear. But one thing I could do, and that, the business of the perfidious knaves being despatched, I did. I sought him out, and, offering him my hand, thanked him with such words as flowed from a full, if troubled breast, for the great service he had done me.

“Señor,” said I impulsively, “I believe that I am indebted to you for the greatest service one man can render another.”

His attitude was that of protest, nay, of entreaty, that I should say no more.

Now I have written to little purpose if I have not made it evident that de Vilela was my superior in every way save with respect to my strength of body, which was the one special gift God had given me. I had acknowledged the fact to myself, although, being human, not perhaps ungrudgingly. As I looked into his face, whatever poor, paltry feeling I had nourished against him was swept away by a wave of strong emotion.

“Yes, señor,” said I, “how am I to thank you? But for you – I would have perished. What am I to say? What can I do?”

“Señor Ruari,” cried he, in that soft, quiet way of his, “between soldiers, brothers-in-arms, there is no debt.”

“Señor,” said I —

“Be generous, Señor Ruari,” exclaimed he, “and say not a word more,” and he smiled somewhat wistfully and sadly. “We are friends, at any rate, whate’er befall, are we not?”

“By God’s wounds!” swore I.

And we clasped hands again, and so parted.

The day which followed that night of stir was one of quiet at the castle, and its very peacefulness seemed to me well-nigh intolerable. But we learned from our spies, and could to some extent see for ourselves, that there was a great commotion in the English camp, indicating the arrival of fresh troops.

By the evening, Sir Nicholas had so disposed his forces that we were completely hemmed in on the land side, and our spies had to be withdrawn within the walls. The sea was still open to us, and much I wondered that the Governor did not take this more into his account, for so long as we could get to our galleys and procure food by way of Clew Bay, we could laugh at him and bid him defiance.

But I might have been sure that Sir Nicholas was too experienced a soldier not to know well what he was about.

Another night and another day dragged themselves slowly away, and the Governor moved not from the positions he had taken up. There he lay all round us, just out of reach of our ordnance, of which we gave him a taste from time to time, so that he should keep his distance; there he lay, inactive, waiting, expectant – but of what, or, of whom?

These were the questions Grace O’Malley discussed with de Vilela and myself, and the answers to them did not present themselves at once.

“Can it be,” asked my mistress – and her words showed the direction in which her thoughts were turning “that Sir Nicholas has heard Richard Burke is coming with all the men of Mayo behind him to our aid, and that he has decided to engage him before attacking us?”

“He is perhaps making some engines with which he hopes to batter down your walls,” said de Vilela.

“Our ordnance will prevent that,” said I.

“I think the Governor must himself expect to receive ordnance from some quarter,” said de Vilela, “otherwise the success of the siege he must know is impossible.”

Grace O’Malley and I looked at each other, the same thought in our minds. There was only the one way by which there was any probability of his obtaining heavy pieces, and that was over sea.

Did Sir Nicholas reckon on the support of a heavy ship of war, and was he now quietly looking for its arrival? Had he foreseen, or, at least, provided against the failure of the plot of the kernes?

That seemed very likely, and the more I thought of it the more likely did it seem. I now realised, as I had not done before, the seriousness of our situation.

“That must be it,” said Grace O’Malley. “That must be it. He is not a man given to slackness, but he is perfectly aware that he can now effect nothing unless he has cannon, and so he tarries until his ordnance comes. Doubtless he has arranged that a war-vessel shall meet him here, and, if that is how the matter stands, it may arrive very soon.”

“What you have conjectured,” said, de Vilela, “will, I think, prove to be correct.” And I also said that her words expressed my own opinion.

Now, the three great galleys lay in the harbour at Clare Island, and as Grace O’Malley had withdrawn most of their crews they were without sufficient defenders, and might be easily taken and destroyed.

“The galleys must at once be brought over here,” said she with decision to me, “or better still, if it be not too late, sailed into Achill Sound, and hidden away in one of its many bays. This very night, as soon as the darkness has fallen, you, Ruari, must take as many men as can be got into the boats we have here, and make for Clare Island with all speed. When you have reached the island, do with the galleys as seems best to you.”

Accordingly, when the shadows of night had overspread the land and the sea, I set about to fulfil her behest. The day-breeze had died away, and the waters were calm and tranquil as we pulled out from the castle. Rowing steadily and strongly along the north shore of Clew Bay, the sound of our oars alone breaking the silence, we held on until we arrived at Clare Island, where I was overjoyed to find our ships riding at anchor in the peaceful security of the haven.

And there, partly to rest my weary men, and partly because I could see no reason for any immediate action, I resolved to lie still till dawn.

I had hardly, as it appeared to me, laid myself down to sleep in my cabin on The Cross of Blood, though some hours had passed, when I was aroused by Calvagh O’Halloran, who had been left in charge of the galleys, with the tidings that the watchers he had placed on Knockmore had come down from the hill with the intelligence that they had seen, in the first light of the morning, the tops of the masts of a large ship coming up, faint and dim, on the south against the sky.

Springing from my couch, I bade Calvagh get the galleys ready to put to sea, and while this was being done I went ashore, and, climbing the slope of Knockmore with swift steps, gazed seaward at the approaching vessel.

At first I was inclined to hesitate as to what to make of her, but as I looked, and as she kept coming on into fuller view, any doubt I entertained was set at rest.

There was a bright flashing of flame, then a heavy boom from one of her ports, succeeded by three shots fired in rapid succession.

I concluded that she was still too far out at sea for her commander to have intended these for anything but signals, and therefore I continued to stand watching her, my purpose being to discover if she intended to make for Clare Island or would hold on towards the mainland.