CHAPTER XI.
THE AFFRAY ON POLPERRO BEACH.
It was at an ivy-covered house standing upon the heights a littledistance beyond the fishing village of Polperro that Jacob Hartop hadtaken his present refuge. His niece, whom he had been at some pains todiscover, was the wife of that Captain Whiddon who sailed out in theservice of Sir Walter Raleigh, with intent to discover the Land of Goldthat was supposed to lie beyond the river Orinoco, and who, with hisship's crew, had endured untold privations in the swamps of Trinidad,all of which may be read in Raleigh's printed account of his discoveryof the Empire of Guiana and the great and golden city of Manoa.
Mrs. Mercy Whiddon had a cluster of sturdy boys and girls about her, andyou may be sure that Master Hartop was a right welcome guest in theirhome, for he had a deft hand at the making of a wheelbarrow or arabbit-hutch, and his tales of adventure were ever of the exciting sortwhich young people do most delight to hear. Captain Whiddon himself wasno less pleased than his sons and daughters to have old Jacob under hisroof, for it chanced that Hartop and he had known each other yearsbefore, out on the Spanish Main, and had struck up a friendship from thesimple reason that they both were men of Devon, and that they both borethe name of Jacob.
On a certain evening, ere yet the children had gone to their beds, thefamily were seated in the living room. From the window they could seethe glistening track of the moon's silvery light across the Channel,with here and there a black-sailed fishing-boat pitching about upon thewaves; in moments of silence they could hear the breaking of the tideupon the rocks below the cliff, and the ivy leaves, disturbed by thewind, tapping against the diamond panes of the window casement. JacobWhiddon sat in the ingle, with Bertha, his youngest girl, perched on hisknee. Ambrose Pennington, who had sailed round from Plymouth to conferwith the captain on some matter concerning Lord Thomas Howard's fleet,sat near him, while Jacob Hartop sat in the midst of a group ofchildren, who were attentively watching him as with a large knife and ablock of deal wood he fashioned the rough hull of a boat.
"And how many masts will the ship have?" questioned one of the boys.
"Three, Master Jack," answered Hartop; "for 'tis a ship royal, like untothe _Defiance_ that is now lying in Plymouth."
"Then we must e'en have an admiral's flag made for her," said littleJack. "Mother shall make one for us out of the piece of silk that shecut from off Bertha's belt."
"Nay, but we agreed that the ship should be named the _Pilgrim_,"objected the eldest of the boys. "For the _Pilgrim_ is father's ship,and she hath but two masts."
"The number of her masts and the name she shall have are matters foryourselves to determine," said Hartop, as he held the boat in front ofhim bow-on and glanced with one eye along her deck. "The only matterthat doth at present concern me is her hull, and when 'tis done, as Ipromise you it shall be on the morrow, then the rigging of the craftwill remain for other hands than mine, for ere she is ready to belaunched I shall be far away upon the seas."
He continued to hew at the boat's hull with his knife, shaving down herbows to the required degree of roundness.
"Thou'lt not forget the string of coral beads you did promise me," saidJack's sister Mary, after a long pause of silence.
"Ay, faith, I'll mind on't, truly," answered Jacob with a smile; "and ifluck doth follow us, thou shalt have a goodly chain of pearls into thebargain."
"And wilt bring me home one of those green poll-parrots, or one of thelong-tailed monkeys that you told us of?" pleaded one who stood at hisknee.
"Ay, surely; I'll bring thee a whole ship-load of such trumpery anCaptain Grenville will but let me," returned the old man.
"What!" interposed Ambrose Pennington, turning round on his chair. "Artfor going out with the fleet, then, friend Hartop?"
Hartop nodded.
"Ay," he answered. "A life on land hath but few joys for such as me, Ifind, and I am for having just one cruise more with the buccaneers andanother sight of the palm-trees. And yet," he added, "'tis less of myown wish than by the will of Sir Richard Grenville that I go; for hehath besought me to accompany him, since 'tis supposed that I know morethan most men touching the purpose of this present expedition."
Pennington drew his chair nearer to the old man and sat facing him,bending forward in attention with his two hands clasped between hisknees.
"'Tis nought to be marvelled at that Sir Richard should have such awish," said he, "for it seemeth that you have some special knowledge ofthe matter. An it be no secret, Master Hartop, mayhap you'd enlighten usconcerning this same cruise, for I, too, am to be aboard the _Revenge_,and 'tis but natural I should wish to know the purpose of our voyage."
Hartop dusted the shavings of wood from his knees and continued with hiswork.
"'Tis no longer a secret," he said, "and, indeed, I had thought thatCaptain Whiddon had already informed you on the matter. Sir WalterRaleigh did in truth bid me keep my knowledge to myself. But that wassome three months ago, and now that Her Majesty hath bidden my LordThomas Howard assemble this squadron, and hath made no secret of ourdestination, I know no reason why I should scruple to break silence."
"Nay, 'tis no longer a secret. Tell us the tale," interposed CaptainWhiddon. "For all that I do myself know is the simple fact that we areto waylay and capture King Philip's treasure-ships."
"You must know," began Hartop, "that the late expedition which theQueen's ships made to the Western Islands, under Frobisher and Hawkins,during the last summer past, was a failure. Their intention was even thesame as ours. But King Philip, getting wind of their purpose, sent outto the Indies, giving orders that his ships were to winter in theHavana, and delay their home-coming until this present summer. Now theresult of that delay is, that instead of one year's harvest of silverand gold there is now fully double that quantity lying in thetreasure-houses of Nombre de Dios waiting to be brought over to Spain.'Tis the mightiest hoard of wealth that ever was brought together sincethe world began, and I promise you it will give the Spaniards a hardenough task to transport so large a burden across the seas. Ay, eventhough every galleon of their armada were loaded up to the gunwales."
"And prithee, Master Hartop, how many galleons do you reckon there willbe engaged in that same task?" inquired Captain Whiddon.
"Well, as to that," said Hartop, "I scarce can tell. But this I knowfull surely, that even at the time when we started homeward in the_Pearl_, there were then lying at the Havana no fewer than fifty of KingPhilip's finest ships. Many of them were of a thousand tons apiece,which, as I judge, is about double the size of Lord Thomas Howard's_Defiance_. Nay, fifty sails, do I say? There were more than that. Letme see! There were three-and-thirty galleons of Nova Hispania, andthree-and-twenty of Terra Firma--that's fifty-six. Then there weretwelve of San Domingo, and it may be nine of Honduras. How many mightthat be, all told, Master Jack?"
Jack Whiddon counted on his fingers and presently answered:
"Seventy and seven."
"Body o' me!" exclaimed Ambrose Pennington. "And do you say that sovast an armada as that is to be attacked and captured by thesehalf-dozen warships that we now have lying in Sutton Pool?" He held hishand palm uppermost, as if to suggest that it could well embrace thedimensions of the whole of Admiral Howard's fleet. "Why, 'tis madness tothink on't!"
"So it might seem," nodded Hartop. "But 'tis as well to understand,Master Pennington, that we have certain very great advantages in ourfavour. To begin with, these Spaniards have been languishing for manymonths in an evil climate; they will surely be reduced by disease, byfamine, and I know not what other pestilential ills, while we shall meetthem strong and fresh and hearty. Their galleons will be half rotten,bored by the teredo worm, overgrown with weeds and barnacles, and,moreover, very heavily laden; while our own ships, on the other hand,are newly fitted out with good sails and riggings, strong clean hulls,good guns, and an abundance of ammunition. Also, you must bear in mindthat while the Queen's ships will doubtless keep together in o
ne compactsquadron, the Spaniards, by reason of the long voyage, and perhapsstress of weather, to say naught of the differing sailing powers oftheir ships, will most certainly be separated one from the other, sothat 'twill be an easy enough matter for our admiral to pick them offone by one."
"There is good reason in your argument, to be sure." declaredPennington; "and if the matter turn out as you have set it down, I doubtnot that we shall, one and all, return to England in a few weeks' timewith riches enough to serve us and keep us in luxury to the end of ourdays."
"Ay," agreed Captain Whiddon, "'tis like a fairy dream."
"As for the _Revenge_," added Pennington, with an encouraging glance atJacob Hartop, "she is a right gallant ship, and as pretty a one as youwill find upon all the seas, notwithstanding the ill-luck that hathhitherto been her so frequent attendant."
Jacob Hartop raised his grizzled eyebrows.
"Ill-luck?" he repeated. "Why, methought she had been of all HerMajesty's ships the most highly-favoured by fortune. Prithee, was it notupon her decks that Sir Francis Drake held command when he gave such atrouncing to the Duke of Medina-Sidonia three years ago?"
Ambrose Pennington nodded and smiled.
"No man doth know better than I how well she behaved on that sameoccasion," said he. "I was then but her master's mate, and of no greataccount on board. But I mind well every incident and movement in theengagement--how we met the Armada down by the Lizard in Cornwall, how webeat them and shuffled them together first to Portland, where theyshamefully abandoned Don Pedro de Valdes with his mighty ship to betaken by the _Revenge_; how we chased them from Portland to Calais,where they lost Hugo de Moncada with the great galleass of which he wascaptain; then how we drove them with squibs and fireships from theiranchorage in Calais Roads, gave them a sound drubbing off the coast ofFlanders, and anon chased them out of sight of England, round aboutScotland and Ireland, where the storms of the northern seas speedilyfinished the destruction that we had begun. And I tell thee that therewas no ship in all Queen Elizabeth's fleet that did greater service forour country than the _Revenge_. And yet, for all that, she must still becounted the unfortunatest ship her Queen's Majesty hath had during herreign--"
"Heaven grant that her misfortunes will have forsaken her during thispresent voyage!" interposed Hartop. "For, although I set not a singlegroat's value upon my own poor life, yet I am well assured that everyman and every ship of our company will be sorely needed ere we fulfilthe work that is before us. But, prithee, wherein lieth the ship'sill-luck and misfortune?"
"In many particulars," answered Pennington. "As for example, on her veryfirst voyage when coming back from Ireland, with Sir John Parrot incommand, she was like to be cast away upon the sand-banks that are offthe Kentish coast. After, in the voyage of Sir John Hawkins in 1586, shestruck aground in coming into Plymouth harbour, before her going to sea.Upon the coast of Spain she left her fleet, ready to sink with a greatleak. At her return into Plymouth she beat herself upon the Winter Stoneand stove in her bows. Twice did she run aground in going out ofPortsmouth haven; and on the latter occasion lay two-and-twenty hoursbeating upon the shore. Once more she was driven upon the rocks outsideof Plymouth here, and lay helpless and abandoned for six winter months.Forced off again, she was being taken to the river Thames to be docked,when, her old leak breaking upon her, she was like to have drowned allher ship's company. And ye have surely heard that even four short monthssince, when riding at her moorings in the Medway, she turned right overwith her keel uppermost. So you see, my masters, in whatsoever way youdo regard it withal, she is a ship well laden with disaster and fullfraught with ill-success."
"Marry!" cried Jacob Hartop, "but that is indeed a most woeful recordfor so young a ship. But, I pray you, Master Pennington, wherefore doyou so meekly consent to be one of her crew, knowing that she hath beenso unfortunate?"
And Pennington answered:
"For the reason that, notwithstanding her misfortunes, she doth stillremain the ship which beyond all others in Her Majesty's navy hath giventhe soundest thrashing to the Spaniards. And I do firmly hope andbelieve, that if there be any glory to be won on this present expeditionit will be mostly won by the _Revenge_ and her gallant commander SirRichard Grenville. For you must know that Sir Richard hath already wonthe name of 'the Spaniards' terror'."
Now, while Pennington was in the midst of this speech Mercy Whiddon hadgone out of the room, and as she crossed the passage she was startled byhearing the sound of men's feet outside, and the loud rapping of a stickupon one of the panels of the door.
"Save us all!" she exclaimed in sudden alarm. "Who can be coming here atsuch an hour as this?" And then returning to the room she called uponher husband. "Jacob!" she cried. "There be someone at the door, I prayyou open it, for I fear 'tis some unruly stranger." And as she spoke yetanother thundering blow fell upon the door.
Jacob Whiddon strode out into the passage and flung open the door.
"What want you?" he demanded, as he espied a tall cloaked figure uponthe step. "And who are you that dares to disturb honest folk at thistime of night?"
"'Tis I," came the answer; "'tis I, Timothy Trollope of Plymouth town.And I crave your help, Master Whiddon, and the help of as many men asthere may be in your house. 'Twas Master Richard Drake that sent mehither. He is down by the beach yonder, lying in wait for the Spanishprisoners who have made their escape. We have tracked them thus far, andhave now discovered that a ship is lying in readiness to carry them offto Spain."
"Escaped, have they?" cried Captain Whiddon. "Then, by thunder, if thatbe so I am with you, my master!" And leaving Timothy standing at thedoor he returned into the room and called upon Pennington and Hartop tobuckle their swords about them, and join with him in the adventure.
Jacob Hartop was the first of the three men to join Timothy in thelittle garden in front of the house. He carried a long sword and aheavy, cumbrous pistol and a large knotted stick.
"So 'tis you, Master Trollope?" said he, as he glanced into Timothy'sface by the light from the window. "And, prithee, how cometh it thatthou hast taken to the constable's work of chasing fugitive prisoners?"
"'Twas by chance that I heard the rogues had escaped," said Tim, movingtowards the gate as if in eagerness to get down to the beach. "I waspassing beside the gaol when Master Richard Drake ran out crying for mento help him, for that his prisoners had escaped. I joined in the crowd,following Master Drake at his horse's heels."
"Ah!" returned Hartop, "trust a Spaniard for winning his way out of apent-house. They are like unto serpents for guile and cunning, as I wellknow, who have lived in their midst. But I'll engage that these couldscarce have won their freedom without help from the outside. Dost knowif they had any such help, Master Trollope?"
Timothy did not reply at the moment, for Whiddon and Pennington had nowjoined them, and were calling upon the lad to lead the way to the spotwhere the escaped Spaniards might be expected to be found.
"Yonder lies their ship," explained Timothy, pointing out to the shadowyheadland, below which the faint outline of a vessel's hull could beseen. Then, as his eyes still rested upon the ship, he suddenly grippedold Hartop's arm. "Look at her, Jacob Hartop! Look at her well!" hecried. "Dost know the craft, man?"
"Nay, how should I know one ship from another in such uncertain light,and with eyes so dim as mine be?" questioned the old man.
At this Ambrose Pennington cast a glance towards the ship. A gleam ofmoonlight now rested upon the water behind her, and her tall hull andmasts and bellying sails were darkly outlined against the bright light.
"Why, my lad," said he, in a tone of disappointment, "that is no Spanishship! Y'are fooling us, for sure. No, 'tis no Spanish ship, I say, butjust the old _Pearl_, that hath been lying under repair against Suttonwharf there these two months past, and that hath come out to-day to tryher new-made sails! Come you back to the house, Master Whiddon, for I'llbe sworn the lad hath but been playing us some childish prank.Spaniards, forsooth! Prithee who ever heard
of a Spaniard, aye, or anyother prisoner, breaking away from the hands of Richard Drake?"
At that instant there came a long loud whistle from the beach below.
"Hark you, my masters," cried Timothy Trollope, "that whistle is Drake'ssignal, calling his men together; and I do most positively declare toyou that in a very little time there will be some fighting to be donedown on the beach, for we saw the Spaniards, to the number of a goodscore at the least, passing along the headland and making signs to theship, which were duly answered. Nay, more, we saw a boat put out fromthe ship and make for the spot where Master Drake and some three or fourmen of Plymouth now are--"
"Nay, why stand we parleying here?" broke in Jacob Hartop. "I am forclimbing down to the beach, and let them follow me who will." And sosaying he swung his great stick over his shoulder and took a slantingcourse down the slope of the cliff, followed closely by TimothyTrollope.
Whiddon and Pennington, it seemed, preferred to descend by the easierway of the footpath, which led down to the shore in another direction.Timothy, with greater eagerness and with more alertness than old Hartop,soon passed his companion, and was down upon the beach while Jacob wasstill struggling to penetrate a thick tangle of bramble bushes that grewupon the lower slope.
Timothy waited for him some few moments, and as he stood still he becameconscious of some moving figures passing into the shadow behind awooden hut, in which the fishermen of the neighbouring village kepttheir old nets and torn sails. A gleam of moonlight glinting upon adrawn sword proved to him that the figures were not those of innocentfishermen. He crept stealthily towards them.
A man presently appeared round the farther corner of the hut. He wore along cloak and a wide sombrero hat. Timothy guessed that he was one ofthe escaping Spaniards, and he was about to hail the man when he wasstartled by once more hearing the long loud whistle, this time closebehind him. In an instant as it seemed, he was surrounded by many men.One of them seized him, gripping him by the throat.
"Back there, you Spanish dog!" the fellow cried, at the same momenttaking hold of Timothy's drawn sword and dropping it on the shinglebehind him.
Timothy knew his voice. It was that of young Roland Grenville.
"Nay, unhand me, Master Grenville," the lad cried, as well as thetightening fingers upon his throat would permit him. "I am TimothyTrollope, that went up to summon Jacob Whiddon. I--I--"
"S'death, lad, I had nearly throttled thee!" cried Grenville, releasinghim, and then stooping and taking up Timothy's rapier, he added: "Here,take thy blade and hie thee down to the boats yonder at the water'sedge. And, hark ye, if any Spaniard attempt to get aboard, run himthrough. Dost hear me? Run him through."
Scarcely had he spoken when the report of a pistol-shot from behind himrang through the air. It was Ambrose Pennington who had fired it at theretreating forms of the Spaniards, who, having crept along under thedeep shadow of the cliff, had eluded their pursuers and were nowhastening across the open beach down towards the water's edge.
"To the boats! to the boats, my lads!" cried Pennington, and he set offat a run, followed by Roland Grenville, Timothy, Richard Drake, andseveral of the men who had come out from Plymouth. At their heels ranJacob Hartop, pistol in hand, and as game for a fight as any of them.
When the old man got down to the foreshore, where the outgoing tide wasplashing upon the loose stones, he found himself in the midst of somethirty men, who were belabouring each other with their sticks andswords. It was difficult for him in the darkness to discover which wereSpaniards and which men of Plymouth. But presently the crowd divided,one half remaining fighting, the others rushing knee-deep into the waterand scrambling into one of the two boats that lay afloat within easyreach. Jacob Hartop levelled his pistol at one of the foremost of thefugitives and fired. Without waiting to see the effect of his shot, heturned to discover Captain Whiddon, Roland Grenville, and TimothyTrollope engaged all three in combat with seven of the Spaniards.Hartop saw that Timothy Trollope was being hard pressed by three of theenemy, who were assailing him with their heavy sticks. Only one of themwas armed with a sword, and this one stood in front of Timothy, whilehis two companions were attacking the lad from the rear.
"TIMOTHY DISARMED THE FELLOW, AND WITH A FORWARD THRUST PIERCED HIM IN THE CHEST"]
Jacob rushed headlong into the fray and speedily relieved Timothy of twoof his assailants, who, seeing the old man's glittering rapier, andbeing themselves armed only with cudgels, turned upon their heels andfled towards the boats.
Left alone with his one adversary, whose back was to the light, Timothycrossed swords with him. The Spaniard had wrapped the tail of his coatround his left arm. Something in his manner of fence reminded Timothy ofthe encounter in Beddington Dingle. For a moment he thought of youngPhilip Oglander. He tried to get a glimpse of the man's face, but aquick thrust aimed at his sword-arm brought him to a sense of hisdanger, and he did not pause to think which one of the Spaniards whom hehad so often seen in Plymouth his antagonist might be. Whosoever he was,he certainly was no dunce in the use of his weapon, and with allTimothy's skill he had much ado to hold his own. The duel continued forseveral moments, but at last with a dexterous wrist movement Timothydisarmed the fellow, and with a heavy forward thrust pierced him in thechest.
He staggered for a moment, clapped his two hands against his breast,and, leaving his weapon lying upon the beach, ran off towards hiscompanions. Timothy watched him as he fled, and saw him wade into thewater and scramble over the gunwale of the boat upon which Jacob Hartophad fired. There were already some ten of the Spaniards on board of her.They were pushing off; their oars were in the row-locks, and so fullywere Richard Drake and his men engaged in making prisoners of those thatremained that they were unaware of what had happened until Timothyraised the alarm and drew their attention to the fugitives. CaptainWhiddon reloaded his pistol and fired at them, but with no apparenteffect. The boat sped out into the deeper water and was soon beyondrange of such few firearms as were available. As for the Spaniards whohad been left behind, they were speedily captured and bound with ropes,ready to be marched beck to Plymouth.
The whole affray had occupied but a few minutes. Two of the Spaniardshad been killed, and one of Drake's men--a young vintner ofPlymouth--had been badly wounded, while there were few of the others whohad not received scars and bruises.
When at last the prisoners were secured, Roland Grenville, Jacob Hartop,and Timothy Trollope were told off to conduct them to some place ofsafety in Polperro, while Drake, Whiddon, Pennington, and some threeothers jumped into the remaining boat and pulled off in pursuit of themen who had escaped. How they fared Timothy did not learn until the nextmorning, when he was told that after an exciting chase the Spaniards hadsucceeded in gaining the deck of their ship, which had sailed offwestward along the coast, not to be overtaken by a small boat whoseoccupants had only two pairs of oars and no sail. There was only onething which Drake gained by his pursuit, and that was the knowledge thatthe ship was indeed the _Pearl_ of Plymouth.
When they had securely housed their prisoners in a vacant stable inPolperro, and left Hartop in guard at the door, Roland Grenville andTimothy Trollope returned to the beach, taking with them a lightedlantern. They were accompanied by a fisherman, who helped them to carrythe two dead Spaniards up to a shed adjoining Jacob Whiddon's house.Timothy recognised the dead men as Don Miguel de Fernandes and Andrea deOrtega. He had known Don Miguel by sight for many months past, butsearching in his memory he could only remember Andrea from the time whenJasper Oglander had come home to England.
As he was turning away from having bolted the door of the shed, RolandGranville said, touching Timothy on the arm:
"Here is a weapon for thee, Master Trollope. I will engage that 'tis awell-tempered one. These Dons do ever contrive to get hold of a goodlypiece of steel; and in spite of Master Drake's watchfulness, more thanone of them was armed with his Toledo blade to-night. 'Tis a marvel tome where they found them, for, as you know, they were forbid
den to goarmed."
"I'll be sworn they had friends outside of their prison," returnedTimothy, "else would they never have escaped." He took the rapier fromGrenville's hand. "Thank you," said he. "I will keep it, sir, andgladly, for it can scarce be a worse weapon than my own."
"I picked it up on the beach," said Grenville, "at the spot where I sawyou engaged with one of the rascals. 'Twas his sword, I doubt not. But,prithee, since you disarmed him, why did you not run him through?"
"Indeed, Master Grenville," quoth Tim, "methought I had e'en done so. Igave him a good span of my weapon in his chest ere he ran off to theboat, and I warrant he'll not soon recover. Rather, I should say, I willwarrant that he cannot recover."
Timothy carried the rapier back with him to Plymouth that night, andwhen he reached home he examined it. He saw that its point had beenroughly ground down, obviously with the purpose of shortening the weaponto the limited length required by the law. Timothy immediatelyremembered that this had been done to Philip Oglander's rapier. Helooked at the hilt and at once recognized it. Yes, there was no doubtthat this was Master Philip's weapon. There was no doubt either thatthe young man with whom Tim had just had the duel on the beach and whomhe had wounded was Philip Oglander himself.
Arguing upon this fact, Timothy was not long in coming to the conclusionthat the escape of the Spanish prisoners of war had been achieved by thehelp of Philip, if not also of Jasper. There was truth, then--absolutetruth--in the accusation which Timothy had made, that Jasper Oglanderand his son were in league with the King of Spain, and that they had allalong been plotting in the interests of England's enemies.