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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour §tre reproduit en un seul clich6. il est film6 d partir de I'angle supdrieur gauche, de gauche 6 droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 4 MICROCuKY RESOLUTrON TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHmRT No. 2) I.I Li l» us iuuu 2£ 3.6 4.0 25 22 2.0 1.8 1.6 ^ >IPPI_IED IIVMGE Inc 1653 fast Main Jtrest Rochester, New York 14609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288- 598r> - Fax l- /t/C-^I ^^^* ^>- "7^ ^T? C \ £h / ■«i ^ ' iJMtiiiMiHliiaRnMnHnlB «'« THE WHITE KING OF MANOA n /. t.«f ' > » ^ THE WHITE KING OF MANOA BY JOSEPH HATTON Author of ♦'The D.gger .nd the Cro..." " By Order of the Cz.r," "An Exile'. Daughter," etc. GEORGE J. McLEOD, PUBIISHER TOROxNTO k)H5 1 Copyright, 1899 BY R. V: FENNO & COMPANY The White K!n« of Manoa 890724 " There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased; The which observ'd, a man may prophesy, With a near aim^ the chance of things As yet not come iv life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured." Shakespeare. CONTENTS prelude England's great awakening . . , , JSOOf! I ON THE EXE CHAP. I. " ALAS ! THE LOVE OF WOMEN " . , , n. HOW ANTHONY KENNOCK CAME TO EXMOUTH HI. BETWEEN SIREN SEA AND LUCY WITHYCOMBE IV. YOUNG LOVE AND OLD AMBITION V. A CONFLICT OF TONGUES . . « , VI. A BATTLE WITH SWORDS .... PAGE t I 7 26 32 40 44 JSOOl^ II PAUL'S WALK, LONDON, AND THEREABOUTS I. 'twixT SACK AND SWORD e* II. DAVID IN THE ASSASSINS* DEN . III. GOOD SAMARITANS. THnTrr.H nAmcTc 63 68 ^ Contents 3Booft III CH.P ^^^^^^ ^^^USE AND WHITEHALL CHAP* I. THE LOVE STORY OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND "*^*'" BESSIE THROCKMORTON . . • • • • 72 II. TWO queens; ONE UNCROWNED ... 82 in. THE CONFIDENCES AND ANXIETIES OF MISTRESS THROCKMORTON AND LUCY WITHVCOMBE AT THE COURT OF QUEEN ELIZABETH ... 87 IV. ADVENTURER, STATESMAN, DREAMER, LOVER . 98 V. RETROSPECT; AND THE CLOCK STRIKES FOUR . 106 VL MASTER SIDl^OUTH TREVELION OFFERS UP A PRAYER . • . Ill Vn. AN INTERLUDE . • • • • . 120 VIII. DAVID'S PAPIST ANGEL . , IX. "when SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN?" . 127 X. DAVID YARCOMBE IS INTRODUCED TO QUEEN ELIZABETH 134 XL PASSAGES IN LOVE's TRAGIC CALENDAR . .141 XII. DAVID RUNS AGAINST LORD ESSEX AND RALEIGH IS ARRESTED 152 XIII. "PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCES' FAVOURS". 1 63 3B00ft IV WITH THE PIONEERS AND THE NOBLE WOMEN THEY LEFT BEHIND THEM I. THE BEGINNING OF MANY STRANGE ADVENTURES 167 IL * BUT NOW THE HAND nir PA Tp Tcr»M THE. <^TTT, ..,...., » _^^ CHAP. Contents 72 82 Vll PACK III. CONCERNING THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF DAVID YARCOMBE . . ,q/: • • • • I 60 IV. HOW SIR WALTER CAME HOME TO SHERBORNE, AND LUCY WITHYCOMBE RETURNED TO HER NATIVE VILLAGE . 194 JBooft V THE GOLDEN CITY OF MAmA I. THE VOICE OF MANY WATERS . . , . igg II. DAVID DISCOVERS MANOA . . • • ( 204 III. DAVID ENTERS THE GOLDEN CITY, AND KISSES THE HAND OF THE PRINCESS ZARANA PELUCA .212 IV. "LOVE! LOVE! ETERNAL ENIGMA!" . . .224 V. DAVID SMITES THE DON BEFORE THE GATES OF MANOA . 230 VI. THE LOST PIONEER REIGNS IN MANOA, " THE GREAT WHITE KING ! ". . r . 230 242 247 251 258 268 Vn. RALEIGH SMITES THE DON AT CADIZ VIII. ENVY, HATRED, AND MALICE .... IX. RALEIGH STILL DREAMS OF MANOA . X. WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN XL "alas, poor dreamer!" . • • • • . XII. the SPANISH ABDUCTION OF ZARANA PELUCA, queen of MANOA ..... 27 q XIH. "THERE IS NO MAKING TREATIES WITH SPAIN" 287 XIV. VICTIMS OF THE SPANISH INQUISITION . . 292 XV. THE TERRIBLE AFFLICTION OF DAVID, AND THE DOOM OF GUAYANA VIEJA 308 Cl*J VIU Contents 3Booft VI PEACE CHAP. I. HOMEWARD BOUND . . , II. TOO TRUE NOT TO BE STRANGE . III. A woman's CONSTANCY PACK 325 PRELUDE ENGLAND'S GREAT AWAKENING It was an age oi great ambitions, a spreading of sails for un- known seas. According to Sidmouth Trevelion, the spirit of God once more moved upon the face of the waters. It had become necessary for a repetition of the Divine command, " Let there be light." But the light was dimmed, at intervals, by a Satanic influence, "ordained," however, Master Trevelion declared, only " to try the national faith, and make it strong." In his estimation the devil was King Philip of Spain, and the Almighty's representative was Queen Elizabeth of England. Master Sidmouth Trevelion, the mariner-preacher of Exmouth, was not alone in this belief ; and those who reverently follow the Almighty's government of a troublesome planet may observe, in Elizabeth's selection of her counsellors, the Hand of God Himself. If the devil was permitted to inspire an ungrateful disregard of their conspicuous virtues on earth, it is conceivable that they were amply rewarded in heaven. From John CGroafs to the Land's End men arose from their beds at dawn with a fresh and absorbing interest in life. Reports of maritime adventure were on every lip. iiotui iiau sjiai-cucu ixum ocviiic a siiuru OI inc nonours of Spain. Bidoford, Falmouth, Dartmouth, Exmouth **PSS — a in iici uianiie charm few beautiful women possess. Her glass told her **ma6l the Xovc ot TOomen" II equally for the hrugged ham, or the new here he le choir, [n other 3 father, Id man's : by the be day's n, whom I on the ild steal half the 1 himself r Drake, •, Master ue, had nter was wives as some of lair that arls, and or spices I's heart- re softer luscious English ern seas, len mad. oetraying c;ness- what she read in the eyes of the men of the county round about. At church the youths of the congregation divided their attention between her and their prayer-books. Old men sighed that their days were over, and everybody envied David Yarcombe. Yet any aspirant to Lucy's hand might claim to have a chance of success, seeing that at present, if David was an accepted wooer, his suit had not been ratified by Lucy's father. Had not the old man been under the authoritative thumb of his wife, David and Lucy might, perchance, have been married. Not that the girl had sufficiently encouraged David's aspirations to permit of a discussion of wedded life. For Lucy was even more ambitious than David. She was the cousin of Bessie Throckmorton, who had been appointed maid of honour to the Queen and had rapidly become a great favourite with Her Majesty. The two girls had not often met, but on their very earliest acquaintance, had sworn eternal friendship. When Bessie was informed of the probability of the royal favour being extended to her, she had at once vowed to Lucy that her first desire would be to have Lucy accompany her to London as her friend and companion. Although Lucy's hope had not been fulfilled to this extent the Queen's maid of honour had availed herself of almost every favourable opportunity to send her letters and beg for an exchange of confidences by the same medium : quite a formidable business in those days, when letters were mostly delivered at great cost by relays of men and horses maintained by the Government and primarily intended for its service. Between London and the western ports, private correspondence would be chiefly conducted through friendly and confidential mes- sengers whose business of the seas took them to and fro ] and the Queen's maid of honour was particular in choosing such safe mediums, though she was not equally discreet in what she wrote. There was less danger from any one r^r 13 Zbc Mbite tkin^ of /IDanoa s in opening her elaborately sealed missives, than in the recipient being able to keep faith with Bessie's injunctions of secrecy. Looking over the letters which statesmen and others, placed high at Court and in diplomacy, ventured to write to each other, often at risk of their heads (one betraying the other as sometimes occurred), it is not a matter for wonder- ment that Bessie Throckmorton confided to the trusted friend of her girlhood and her " dearest coz " secrets that Lucy would be delighted to share. . . . Bessie was not as learned as some other ladies of what in later days would have been called a " blue stocking " Court, which seems to have induced some historians to print more than one of Mistress Throckmorton's letters in their original and faulty spelling. In this present mirror of the times the spirit of theim, rather than their dry technicalities, is interpreted. Better suffer critical rebuke for a non-archaic treatment of the orthography of the Tudor period than wear out the patience of the reader. The author who explains that he prefers only to suggest the mode of speech belonging to the period of his narrative, instead of inter- larding his dialogue with an obsolete phraseology, rarely protects himself from the shafts of the stickler for the peculiar vocabulary of a period in all its archaism ; but there is " a mean in all things " as Dryden insists, the which shall guide us in transcribing Bessie Throckmorton's last letter to her " sweet and dearest coz " at Littleham. . . . "This," she wrote, "by my most trusty friend, Master John Oxenham, who, voyaging from the port of London to Dartmouth, doth undertake its delivery ; else dared I scarce trust the further secrets it shall unfold, my heart yeraning to answer all thy questiones and atte the same time to disburden myselffe of some littel of its joyes, and alsoe its doubtes and feares. When you shall have read the same no answer make thereto, but prepare you to leran further II u Hlast tbe Xove of TOomcn" 13 when we sha' meet, perchance at Littleham, or at the Palace of Whitehall, where I shalle have the privilege to receive thee, soe it shall chance your good father and mother permit. I need your sweet and wise companionship, a faithfuUe friend who hath no sophistries of Courts, for although Her Majesty hath shown me much favour, yet I do fear me that when happiness is most keen and content most joyfuUe the clouds be coming. Hold thy sweet breathe and shut thy doors that e'en the roses at thy window catch no suspicon of whatte I saye ; the love of a Queen and such an one as ye wott of, be no less of danger than the jealosuie thereof, and there is no gentleman at Court, soe manly, brave and true, and of such goodly presence as my lord ; but 'tis a crime in her sight that any love but hers be endured, and my heart consumes with its secret, until I give it life in thy dear bosom. Never was woman more to be envied or pittyed than I, whose ambition contends with her love, and whose love hath lain low her ambition except in its desire to have thee knowe all, and when we doe share sweet companionship, then shalt thou tell me of Master Yarcombe and thy persecutor, one Kennock, and of the pleasnt evenings of musick and song, though ray woman's insticnt doth gather that there are degrees of love and that mine for my dear W — - R , is of a higher heat than thine for David, who hath so devoted a passion for his most sweet Lucy that it holds his manly aspirations in check; soe I conclude with every dear message of Affection; and be ready when I doe send messenges for thy safe conveyance from Littleham, or peradventure doe come myself accompnaied by my brother Arthur to bring thee hither. But that my love is near by while I pen these words, I could envy you your home so near Hayes Barton where he did spend his youth and dream of love, as he doth confess. nPVPr hrkr»tr«nr on n%f,r>U ^„ t.^ 1 .'j. H _-if_^ t ^ . i--"6 '"-■ liiuwi as iw iiixyx: ii au wca bacisnea in, Thine most dear coz, Bessie Throckmorton,'* (VJ- I r •ill 14 Ube mbitc mn^ of /©anod Darid had observed a chantje in Lucy, of late, that puzzled him. She had suddenly become absent-minded, except that he thought she glanced more frequently than was her habit at the tiny mirror that hung by the mantel between a brace of miniatures; the one of her cousin, Mistress Bessie Throckmorton, and the other of her mother when a girl. Lucy became absorbed in thoughts she did not share with him. It was evidently with an effort that she sat quietly while he sang the favourite song of Queen Elizabeth's illustrious father, " The Hunt is up;" and whereas her voice was wont to lead the chorus, in which her father and mother, and a chance neighbour happening in, would join as they sat round the table in the candle-light, it now lacked tone and ;imbre, and her eyes wandered from the music, though David as plairily as ever signified that it was to her his merry appeal was made : "The hunt is up, the hunt is up; Awake, my lady sweet; I come to thy bower, at this lov'd hour, My own true love to greet." They had a very pleasant habit of song in those days. The madrigal was a popular form of vocal recreation, the lute an instrument not considered beneath the handling of the soldier or the statesman. The Queen played on the virginals. Her subjects sang songs and pieces writ for several voices in their own homes, and there were dancings and merry -miikings in which all could take part ; and David Yarcombe thought Lucy had the sweetest voice that ever sang to the accompaniment of lute or virginals. To hear it halting and out of tune was an alarming experience. The truth is Lucy was in possession of her first secret, and it embarrassed her sorely. Furthermore, a new song was making strange music in her heart. David's tales of love and adventure^ of courts and cavaliers, his ballads and the late, that :-minded, titly than e mantel : cousin, of her thoughts with an favourite he Hunt lead the L chance It round one and , though her his se days, tion, the handling d on the writ for dancings d David hat ever lo hear )erience. :ret, and 3ng was of love "Bias! the %ovc ot TOomen" 15 romances of the time had made her mind as tinder to receive Bessie's epistolary spark from the Court. For the moment the blaze consumed the smouldering fires of love that David sought to fan into flame with tender words and the insinuating music of his lute. And he had good ground for the belief that he had succeeded; though Lucy's mother insisted that, her father being poor and David a doubtful heir to his father's estate, it was but ordinary prudence not to shackle the girl by betrothal, and certainly not by marriage, unblessed by parents and un- endowed by the bridegroom, who "toiled not, neither did he spin," to any advantage of worldly profit. ^' Naturally David became jealous. It must be that Master Anthony Kennock had thriven somewhat in Lucy's estima- tion. When he hinted as much she laughed, and plagued him with pretty protests against ciis want of respect for her. She knew he loved her, she said, and she had hitherto believed he esteemed her as one having a decent pride and self-esteem. . . . "Anthony Kennock!" she exclaimed, "a thing, a patch, a creature that comes from nobody knows where and lives nobody knows how, and whom Master Sidmouth Trevelion has called a spy and a Papist to his ugly face ! Nay, David, an I would not my bitterest enemy had thought so meanly of me." At which David humbled himself in the dust and denounced himself as a villain and unworthy of her, and swore he would do heaven only knows what ; for he was beside himself. . . . Presently, when he was once more sitting by her side, he tried to justify himself a little, by recalling the declaratiori of her mother that, if she were a girl, Anthony Kennock was the man for her money. " But you know my mother hath a weakness for pearls and chains and the like, and this man Kennock seems to have a plentiful supply of such store; and finding out. by subtle questioning, mother's natal day, did send her 'a '^W 16 XCbe XRIlbite fkitiQ of /IDanoa neighbourly token,' so he named it, of the time, and with such fine words and poetic sauce that he has won his way to her best opinion. . . . But oh ! David, I am sore perplexed this day ; would I might share with you a secret that burns my very lips." " Nay, let me snatch it thus," David replied, suddenly clasping her in his arrhs. " 'Tis not my own secret," she said, when she had breath enough left to speak, "and it must be kept for a little while, at leasi; but when I may divulge it you shall be my first confidant." "In the meantime?" he said, watching the animated play of her countenance. " Why, be content with this avowal : the secret lies enshrined in a letter that hath come from town." "From Mistress Throckmorton?" he exclaimed, inter- rupting her. "Nay, I may not to keep it back I " say — at present. But oh, it is hard CHAPTER II HOW ANTHONY KENNOCK CAME TO EXMOUTH A STRANGE customer ! " Captain Liberty Dent would exclaim, with a far-away look in his grey eyey. " I should think he were indeed, and if he don't come' to a strange end, there hain't no readin' of fares. The way he come to Exmouth was like a thief in the night ; not as I would make disparagement of the man, though I hates un. It was nigh upon dawn. I was watchin' a ship as was just a-dousin' her glim, in token of the first beams of the sun when I see a boat, well manned, rounding the buoy off the Warren, makin' for the barque and flyin' the English flag. Turnin' my glass to the steps by the Mermaid, I see a bedizened stronger and Master Hiliary Sharp, the landlord, a-tuggin' at a gert chest. So I goes down to the quay, and there was Hiliary Sharp and his lads and women bustlm' to get breakfast ready, and starin' between whiles at the stranger m blue satin and brocaded Spanish cloak and a hat with a gert bunch of feathers, his beard pointed gold chains about his neck, and a Toledo blade on his hip, for all the world like a hidalgo of Spain, and givin' mun the airs and graces of a grandee such as one might see at the Court of our glorious Elizabeth ; and he was talkm' of adventures he'd had with Captain Hawkins, and namm' Francis Drake and John Oxenham as boc oom- panions ; and somehow I took a hafr^^H r.f «.„« ^^^ ^i ^ Shall. And that's how Anthony Kennock, his hide-bound 17 a I''l r m \ x8 Zbc White Ikim of /l[>flnoa coffer, and his other strange belongings come to Exmouth, callin' Squire Blatchford his friend, by which token he might also have named the devil as his blood relation." That was how Captain Liberty Dent told the story of the advent of Anthony Kennock ; rarely in fewer words, never in more, but always with a far-away look, as if there was something in the background of his brief narrative that might some day be revealed to him. It had been less than a month previously that there had arrived at the Manor House Master Blatchford's nephew. Now Master Blatchford was a Justice of the Peace. He had accepted the new dispensation with coldness, but with- out protest, and had professed to be obedient to the law, signifying that he was Her Majesty's faithful subject, and consciouiy of his bounden duty to the State. Many a Papist submitted with a show of grace, who still con- tinued to intrigue against the throne with a view to restore the Papal power. Blatchford was a timid man and weak, but none the less easy of control by the Jesuit agency of his nephew, Ephraim Clutterbuck, a designing, unscrupulous libertine, who used his privileges, as a lay agent ct the Society of Jesus, to satisfy his carnal and wicked desnes, while at the same time promoting the int'^rests of Spain and his other employers, which occupation fell in with his appetite for adventure and his hatred of England. In early life he had suffered expulsion from Oxford for im- morality ; and his father had been slain in a brawl during one of the martyr-fires of Elizabeth's bloody predecessor, in which his reviling of the sufferers had led to the protests of a desperate sympathiser. So it would seem that, while his fanaticism and cruelty were hereditary, the son en- couraged himself to believe that he had a justifiable hatred of his native country ; which made him one of its active enemies, backed by the most powerful secret society ever founded or likely to be founded, the roots of which are •ftow Bntbon^ l^cmtocft Came to £, ..^utb 19 struck deep in every country and in every community. The Freemasons are a mere International Clu*^ ompared with the universality of the Society of Jesus, probably, if less powerful in our day, none the less industrious than when first they received the authorisation of the Bull of Pope Paul III. in 1540. " You upbraid me for my warlike sword, my adventures, my amours, my worldliness," Clutterbuck would say to his long-suffering uncle; "but Ignatius de Loyola himself was a soldier, brought up to the profession of arms." " But, inspired of the Virgin," Blatchford would retort, " he gave himself up to the service of our Lord Jesus Christ and Our Dear Lady, as their knight. He practised austerities, and preached penitence and good works." " 'Twas his vocation," the nephew would answer. " Mine is that of the lay officer, the diplomat, added to that of the soldier and " "Nay; hush I Walls have ears," the timid Justice would say. "Not these; I have sounded every stone and brick of them. Pass the wine, old Fearful." Master Blatchford pushed the flagon to his nephew; and left his chair, to listen at the door. " I tell you we are private. You should know your own house better, and trust your servants : you may, for I have sounded every one of them. ... It likes me now and then to rehearse the articles, not of my faith, but my triple occupation : soldier, agent, spy. Ah, ah, ah ! Three in one— the earthly three " "Ephraim, desist I will not condone thy profanity by listening to it," said Blatchford, rising. " Thou hast drunk too much wine ; 'tis strange such prime vintage should only make thee ribald and obscene." "I crv vou merrv. imrl^ xro« c,v ,,^ ^^ _„j » . us talk of gold and pearls, and pretty women. Dost know to XTbe Mbitc 1kim of /P^anoa how bravely I thrive with Mistress Dame VVithycombc and her daughter ? " " I would prefer to hear of your coming cargo of treasure from Mexico." " 'Tis already due at Bristol ; Anthony goes to meet the prosperous barque. Trust me, it shall add to thy store. But what dost say to my other venture, the winning of Lucy from that traitorous coxcomb, David Yarcombe ? " " If you would take her honestly and make her my niece, I would not say thee nay ; but to make capture of her in disguise, and break her heart, I think base, and without even the excuse of vengeance ; 'tis an infamy." " Oh, oh I " laughed Clutterbuck. " Hadst no amours in thy youth, no amusements, no love-scalps to fasten in thy belt, as they say the vaunted Raleigh's Indians decorate their bodies withal ; and yet wast never wedded ? Oh, oh, uncle mine ; you hypocrite I " " Get to rest, and sleep off the fumes of Spain's potent liquor; and may to-morrow find thee sober and reason- able I " " To-morrow morn shall find me at home, with my ever complacent slave, Rebecca ; and at even a welcome guesl at my neighbours, the Withycombes." And after many a similar wrangle they would part for the night. Blatchford would pray to the Virgin; and Clutterbuck to none, a profane mercenary of Spain, in the cause of such successor to the English throne as the Pope should approve ; but a traitor even to the Church he served, as well as an unnatural son of his country. The truth is Clutterbuck had well described himself to his uncle ; which it was a sort of mad delight so to do when in his cups. He was Anthony Kennock, the soldier and adventurer, and also Ephraim Clutterbuck, the nephew of the Justice, and in both capacities a Papist spy and agent of Spain ; a strange blot on the national character, ij« tww Hntboni? "Rcnnocft Came to igjmoutb 21 especially in those days, when the very life and soul of the kingdom depended upon the loyalty of its sons. He had arrived first at the Manor House, in open day, by waggon to Exeter, and ''•nee by ship to Exmouth. A month later, he had, with aubtle skill and dramatic disguise, come ashore at Exmouth in the manner already described! Duly autliorised by the Society, and with letters that were commar Js to the faithful, the uncle who had not seen or heard of his nephew for years, made him free of the Manor House, introduced him to secret friends of Rome and Seville, and bound himself, by oaths and vows to respect his nephew's confidence. . . . Clutterbuck, both as Clutterbuck and Kennock, had done good work for his employers, as a servant of the Holy Office in Spain and a spy on board one of Drake's ships ; now he had business between the coast of Devon and the Society of Jesus in London. At the Manor House he had a secret room in which he kept his disguises, which were numerous ; his favourite character being that of the reckless, audacious, ribald Kennock, his safest retreat his cottage, overlooking the Warren, his truest friend and ally his housekeeper, Rebecca, a Creole of Mexico, whom he had rescued from the Inquisition that he might make her his slave. Of late he had been able to supply Spanish agents with valuable information touching the movements of ships sailing from Western ports, and of matters concerning Raleigh, Drake, Frobisher, and other great captains and advisers of "the bastard Elizabeth," as he and his friends delighted to call her ; indeed, he was thriving well in his work of espionage, and might have achieved supreme victories for Spam and the Pope, had it no-fc been for two things that are still mighty factors in the world— women and wine He had conceived a lust for Lucy Withycombe ; and her mother inv*.^ finery and lewels. of the whiVh t^««««^i, u^a ^i„-... spare ; and did spare vastly— bribes for the good word and in 22 tbe mbitc mriQ of /IDanoa of that vain and truculent matron, a woman of presence and in her girlhood no doubt a beauty, thoygh she could never have been as attractive as her daughter Lucy. Not passion alone tempted him in that quarter, but the pride of conquest and the hatred of David Yarcombe, with whom he had quarrelled both in his capacity of Kennock and in his real personality of Clutterbuck. . . . It may seem strange, that no one even suspected the slightest relationship of the two; but life is strange, and truth makes fiction halt to wonder. The costume of those days made it easy, with far less art of simulation than is required to-day, to masquerade successfully. The black square-cut coat, brown trunks and hose, the hair cut short, the grey-laced vest and ruff that Clutterbuck wore with clean-shaven fece, made up an entirely different figure from the elaborately and richly dressed Kennock, with shoulder knots, laces, chains, brocades, rings, and feathers that went gaily with flowing wig, pointed beard and curled moustaches in which Kennock fanci( himself mightily and played the part of the roystering gallant, the dauntless soldier and adventurer to the life. He had rare models for observation, not alone at Plymouth, Bideford, and Dartmouth, but at Westminster and Paul's Walk in London; and he had experience also of Seville and Spanish Mexico. . . . But he was like a bird of gorgeous plumage, lured by the artful imp of Love, that limed the pretty cage at Littleham and steeped the bread of his trap at the Mermaid, in the wine his soul did most commend. To Master Hiliary Sharp and Exmouth generally Kennock claimed to be a Bristol man, professed to have sailed with Hawkins, and shared the* plunder of more than one Spanish prize, hated the dons and all their works, loved sack, and did not despise a pretty woman; that was the kind of man he was, and he did not care who knew it. He bought Somerton's house, overlooking the Warren; toxo Bntbonp Ifcennocft Came to Bjmoutb 23 old Somerton having died and left no issue a few months prior to Kennock's landing at Exmouth. It was not much of a place, but it served him and his housekeeper, a dark- complexioned foreigner, who wore outlandish garments and spoke English with a vile and sluggish accent, and m whose sharp, lynx-like eyes was a world of untranslated mformation ; for she rarely talked, and when she spoke the responses at Littleham Church it was with a sneer if you may believe the ever-observant Captain Liberty Dent' Her master was still a young fellow, not more than five- and-thirty; while she, alas I-well, no matter; even the most ill-favoured of dames object to have their ages exploited, and at the moment we have no particular quarrel with Mistress Rebecca. She gloried in her master's prowess, whatever it might be, for Exmouth had seen none of It, though with Littleham it had heard much When she would defiantly praise him, against attack direct or by innuendo, she would avow that he was as victorious over his enemies as he was triumphant over the ladies, God bless their innocency ! Her Hispano-French accent gave an edge to her commendation that grated terribly on the nervee of Captain Dent, to whom it recalled reminiscences of an interpreter who had questioned him for the Holy Office, so-called, in the city of Mexico. The old mariner in his heart believed Kennock to be a Papist spy, and that Rebecca, his housekeeper, was tarred with the same . brush ; but Dent was always crying " Wolf! " Liberty Dent was one who doubted and denied. He saw a spy in every man whose pedigree he did not know from first to last. "Blatchford himself bain't no puritan any more than mun with the tail and the hoofs : they makes a cloak of seemin' to obey the new dispensation Have I been inquisitioned for nothing? Have I studied tneir wavs in Mpvim f,«ri c„ep — j •_ c_ ■,, ♦aU , ; ' r V '■' """ """'^'^^ '" oevuic, ana can't tell a jay from a kestrel, or a ringdove from a sparrow w m V ' 24 Ube mblte Ikina of /iBanoa hawk ? Go to, lads ! Dame Withycombe may be won over by Master Kennock's pearls from the Indies, and gold chains from God knows where ; but me and Mistress Lucy bain't to be hoodwinked, no more than Master Trevelion himself. If I'm any judge of the sex we all loves, it's a matter of diplomacy that makes Mistress Lucy condescend to mun, and one day, if consent be not given, why, there are more ways of marrying than obtains at Littleham, and David Yar'^ombe comes of a fighting stock, none the worse for bein' somewhat of, as they say, a ne'er-do-well, and a bookman, since he hath a pretty trick of sword play, and can handle a boat as deftly as any mariner from here to Dartmouth or any other Devon port, north or south; which is say in' more for mun than I'd think of asserting for myself. As for Mistress Rebecca, Anthony Kennock's housekeeper, over to the Cove, there was a superannuated duenna who'd drifted into the service of the Inquisition to Seville that was the very spit of her— a she-fiend, my lads, a she-fiend ! " It was on very rare occasions that Liberty Dent ventured to be thus outspoken. Master Blatchford being a Justice and one of the most influential persons thereabouts, on terms with Kennock, and having for his nephew a gentleman of consideration. Dent let the fire of his patriotism burn solitary in his own bosom, with such exception as I have quoted of a passing flash in the atmosphere of the Mermaid, and then only when he was well assured of the loyalty of the company. As a rule the topers there, the men of the village and the stranger within their gates, discussed theology and the New World. The Mermaid was a quaint half-timbered house, built on the ashes of the New Inn, which had been burnt, it was said, by a marauding ship of Spain, that had sailed into the haven in open day under English colours, played havoc with the place, and got clean away before anything I e won over and gold tress Lucy Trevelion loves, it's ondescend why, there ieham, and ; the worse )-well, and word play, from here or south; >f asserting Kennock's erannuated Inquisition ;-fiend, my It ventured g a Justice labouts, on L gentleman otism burn . as I have 2 Mermaid, e loyalty of he men of , discussed Dow antbons HJennocft Came to Emioutb 25 like a defence could be offered. If the landmarks of the old hero,c days have disappeared, the spirit of them lives on. History goes back, ev. , to 1375, in justification of the hostility of Devon to the Spaniard; for in that year is recorded a long list of English ships captured by the Spamards m the Bay of Brittany, at the head of which IS named the Christopher of Exmouth, Robert Wvkforri master, her burden three thousand tons, her value i,.6o, sterhng; but ,t was not neces,,ary for Devon or ^gland to find m so ancient a challenge the stimulus of reprisals LThrT-' '^"'" "^"O"^^ ""•" ^-"e of mere sea-fights and piracies to stir the blood in the miseries Enghshmen had suffered in Spanish dungeons, in the torture-chambers of the Inquisition, and in the ml merciful pile of the aa/o ^a/^. 11 •iMi|Ma CHAPTER III BETWEEN SIREN SEA AND LUCY WITHYCOMBE A STORMY day in March. The bar, that shut out the open sea to craft not very capably steered, was white with foam. The distant headlanus were cut sharp against the sky. A group of men were gathered together about the Mermaid, which dispensed a generous hos- pitality to its customers where in our day the steam ferry and the railway station control the traffic of the river at Exmouth. You may no longer find there any trace of the old quay or tavern. Antiquarians will tell you that there was once upon a time a house called "The New Inn » thereabouts. " New Inns " and " New Churches " have come down to us intact for hundreds of years, still retaining their original and to-day incongruous titles ; but Progress has wiped out every relic of the " New Inn " and the "Mermaid" at Exmouth, and set up in their place buildings that may be more comfortable, but are less pleasing to the eye that appreciates the artistic in domestic and ecclesiastical architecture. The Mermaid was less substantial than the house of the Raleighs, at Hayes Barton, but more ornate; had a v/ooden framework of carved timbers, overhanging gables and narrow diamond- paned windows, a flight of stone steps down to a landing- stage of stone and oak ; and a landlord whose hogs grubbed the eann where tnc l>u3/ oin-i/o -^^ '— ■ — -•■ r-.- - summer trade among dainty visitors. MBE It shut out teered, was i cut sharp id together lerous hos- steam ferry ;he river at ly trace of 11 you that 'The New Churches " f years, still ; titles; but V Inn " and their place ut are less in domestic id was less at Hayes imework of w diamond- D a landing- ogs grubbed nnw nlv a Between Siren Sea anD Xuc^ TKHitb^comde 27 Similar groups of men and boy«, sometimes with women added, were assembled in the ports and riverside taverns of other resorts of shipping : Bristol, Bideford, Dartmouth, and many another harbour, not forgetting the inns and taverns of the Tliames. Mariners were preaching the wealth of the Indies. Gospellers were holding forth on the duties of the Reformation. Many there were who combined in themselves both preacher and adventurer. Of such was Master Sidmouth Trevelion, who, on this March day of our story, 1586, was endeavouring to recruit brave hands for his ship, then lying at Dartmouth, with other vessels bound for the Indies, and en route for such pickings of Spanish galleons of war or commerce they might fall in with by the way. If Exmouth called him "Old Sid," and some "the Prophet Trevelion," they were not terms of derision, but of endearment. There was no finer man in South Devon, physically or mentally. He had smitten the Spaniard on land and sea, swore by his Maker and St. George, knew his Bible by heart, likewise every course and current of the sea that led to Spain and her dominions, had captured two Spanish ships on his last voyage home, and was now only waiting with Captain Oxenham to make one of their most adventurous voyages to the Indies. Their ships were lying at Dartmouth; but his own would presently sail for Exmouth, to take on board any of his friends and neighbours who would care to venture with him. He was an Exmouth man, and of such he hoped would be his crew. A bold, defiant, sturdy character, Sidmouth Trevelion with broad brow and grizzled beard, in russet jerkin, flat cloth cap decorated with a single feather, and heavy boots that struck the earth square and firm ; a bony, brawny man^ with sanguine brown eyes, knuckly hands and iron smews, Dut with a musical bass voice-that might have won him a place in the Queen's choir^and a persuasive, if IT" i ■iinwri 'V 28 Zbc White Mm of /IDanoa 1 J 1 11 fiery eloquence ; a remarkable man, built to load and command. The struggle between light and darkness was ever a favourite metaphor with Master Trevelion. " If the light comes but faintly through the darkened waters," he was saying to his open-mouthed auditors, " it is coming, as sure as the tide rolls along the shores of Devon. Philip of Spain may put flashes of hell-fire into the billows, and his second in power, the Scarlet Lady, may Inquisition English heroes ashore ; but the end is light. Did you ever hear of God being worsted by^ foreigners ? Did you ever hear of the devil being allowed more than a passing show, just to give the world notification of the old serpent's existence ? But what is most material to you, my lads, and to all of ':■: who go do\m to the sea in ships, is not only a righteous hope of reward ; if we live we smite the enemy and seize his treasures; and if we die we enter in at the gates of Paradise, where it is one long summer by a virgin ocean upon which you may navigate your own barques to all eternity. Now, lads, we sail Thursday for the Spanish main, well assured of a quick return, every pocket jammed with gems and gold, and every heart beating with the satisfaction of adding glory to the Flag and serving the cause of Christianity." Then all but David Yarcombe went into the tavern, and many signed to sail and obey the behests of Captain Sidmouth Trevelion, who commanded his own barque, with Jim Carew as sailing-master. And thus the Western ships from year to year went forth to the conquest of the world. They were pigmies against giants, but very active pigmies. Pride of race and the fear of God pervaded captains and crews, and they enjoyed a large prosperity. To those whose chief object was material treasure, spoiling the Cnre gates of ocean upon ill eternity, main, well . with gems satisfaction ; cause of tavern, and )f Captain arque, with stern ships the world, /e pigmies, iptains and To those )oiling the akened the rabe could Between Siren Sea an^ Xucg MltbBcombe ,, hardly for shame go home after scenes like this, and he had been present at many. For a time he encourared himself to l«lieve that ,t was his father's will that guided h.m. But the truth lay nearer his heart Had it not been for Lucy Withycombe, he would long ago have sailed away for good and all with dear old Sid Trevelion. . . . fn"l. "f '"','"'' °"'""" "=« Lucys continuous appeal. I am not happy at home, any more than you and how should I find the smallest consolation in life had I not you to lean upon ? " Thus year after year, companion after companion departed, and D vid had only his books, his dreams'^^nd h.s Lucy She hved at Littleham, as we have seen; and he at what was known as the Old Farm, overlooking Lmleham Cove the first some two miles from Exmouth! the la.t less than half the distance. The villager marvelled at them. They had never seen so faithfTa woomg. It was well known that David was anxious to go to sea. No want of pluck held him back from foreign adventure, for m many a storm he had been the first to launch h^ boat to the rescue of mariners in distress Of a sure y he was not much of a hand at farming, nor were h,s father's lands noted for their fertility ; but Master Tus Yarcombe went the wrong way to l^ his son to he plough and the byre. Moreover, it was not necessary Z.t David should earn his living, as was the lot of otW lad hereabouts; for his father owned property thatbrough m nur rent on the coast, even at Torbay and^Falmouth ' say to Da,^d'°"» t^KT'""'*^'""" ^^''^ D«"' "-"-'d B 1 ,. u r ' ^" ''^"'"' '° <^° than ever was Walter Rde.gh before he sallied forth into the world to sellh s I remit "'™ """'^ ^""^ '" '''"' -* ^s sword ^rBatr.l-''^-^^ ^-"Bster, before he .ft «./second-voy.«eloThe^:srwUTL'"rS 30 Tlbc Timbite *lnG ot ^anoa down by the quay to Topsham, listening at we fellows' yarns of the seas and examining with eager eyes the possessions of the sailing-master of the Devon, which were gold and silver and pearls as big as nuts, and feathers that sparkled in the sun ; and he was envyin' us all the time, though some bore the marks of the devilish Inquisitors of Mexico, for Seville had sent her damned emissaries of what they call their Holy Office to the New World ; and I call to mind that young Raleigh spat when we spoke of the cruel dons and the Papist rogues ; and by Our Lord, I spat likewise, and it was grand to see the sailing- master of the Devon clap his big hand on to muns shoulder, and say : ' My lad, when you're a man, you shall strike a blow for England and St. George ! ' * And for our glorious Queen, Elizabeth ! ' exclaimed the lad before the master had finished ; whereat we all gave a great cheer for the Queen, and he out with a golden piece and vowed he would drink with us tc our next voyage ; at which we all laughed, and the master put the brave lad's com aside and begged him to do us tlr: honour. . . . And the master said : ' My lad, you'll be Lord High Admiral one day, and I hope I may have a son to sail under your command.' The lad said: 'God send you be a true prophet ! ' And like an old fool, I felt a lump in my throat and I gave him a hearty 'Amen!' ... I suspect that gold piece was the only coin the lad owned, for they were but poor gentlefolk, the Raleighs ; though Walter s mother was open-handed, of a noble countenance and figure, a good sample of Devonian wives and mothers ; as thine was, Master David, God rest her soul ! " Which set David pondering ; and revived his memory of a sweet-voiced, gentle being, at whose knee he had said his prayers, and who had asked God to remember His faithful r^ponle. harassed by fire and sword, and martyred for Christ's sake and to be merciful to all prisoners and captives, and wc fellows' eyes the which were nd feathers us all the Inquisitors nissaries of Vorld ; and 1 we spoke fid by Our the sailing- 1 to mun's n, you shall ^nd for our I before the great cheer I and vowed ; at which e lad's coin . . And the A.dmiral one under your be a true lump in my , . I suspect led, for they ugh Walter's tenance and nd mothers ; between SIrcii Sea mb Xuc? TOitbgcombe 31 to bless and preserve her dear son when she would no longer be spared to watch over him. . . . And he little thought, when he sang the praises of Raleigh and spread hjs fame, that he might live to become, not only the servant, but the friend of that brave gentleman, whose life was l\ gloi-y ;nd whose death was a tragedy— curses light on the men^ory of that base king, James II., for ever and for ever! is memory of had said his r His faithful ;d for Christ's captives, and Vli CHAPTER IV YOUNG LOVE AND OLD AMBITION A LITTLE over a year had passed, when Master Tre- velion returned from the expedition for which he had been recruiting men at Exmouth on a certain stormy day in March. There are more ways of filling your purse than by digging gold in Spanish mines. Foul weather and other hindrances l?ad compelled Trevelion to head his ships for England without accomplishing the special object of his voyage. Nevertheless, he and his fellow-adventurers had made a profit in the way of a Spanish prize; in which, moreover, they had discovered letters and dispatches for King Philip that might prove of great import to Sir Walter Raleigh. ... As it turned out, Trevelion's home-coming was not without a momentous bearing upon David Yar- combe's future. The brave old mariner turned up at a period of storm and stress in the lad's career. . . . There are wrecks ashore as well as wrecks at sea ; land-rats and water-rats. . . . David was destined to learn this, and quickly, by personal experience. The very day after dear old Sid had once more put in an appearance at the Mermaid, Master Silas Yarcombe, of the Old Farm, broke with his son. It was a sudden thing to David; but the old man had given the matter much thought. Moreover, he had discussed it with Captain Liberty Dent on the one hand, and with the 3« T4> in 9^f\t' T% 4k/%^ci«A w*Cf 4*/% *1VV t%ii V V V'*'^^ J aster Tre- which he in stormy our purse ather and his ships iect of his jrers had in which, itches for )ir Walter Bouns Xove an^ (S)I^ Hmbition 3$ inquire into the form and character of their judgment. The old man had made up his mind before he asked their opinions. He had, however, been influenced, in a measure by an interview with Dame Withycombe. " rd desire to have a neighbourly talk with you, Mistress Withycombe," he had said. " You are very welcome," replied Lucy's mother, adjust- ing her cap, and fingering the jewelled chain that hung from her neck over her laced bodice, "very welcome Master Yarcombe ; and pray you be seated." They were a characteristic couple. Both of steadfast expression; she with keen eyes and apple cheeks, her thick, grey hair coming low down upon the forehead ; he thin but wiry, with a hatchet-face, thin lips, and a forehead too narrow for his broad chin ; there were indications of cunning in his furtive, watchful eyes, and in a certain clutching of the fingers ; and yet he was a good sort of fellow, as the world goes. " It's of my son I desire to commune with you. He has no call to the land, and is of an age when life should be an earnest business. 'Tis said, both here and at Exmouth, that if 'tv.ere not for young Mistress Lucy he would long ere this have sought and found his fortune beyond the seas. I reckon you can set my mind at rest on this matter.' Dame Withycombe pursed up her lips and wrinkled her forehead. "Supposing mun was seized of the Old Farm and all my estate, and I have property at Dartmouth, Exeter, and Topsham, would Lucy be ready to settle down with mun, and fulfil the duty God has laid upon us all, to increase, and multiply, and replenish the earth ? " Dame Withycombe moved impatiendy in her chair. " If so be as that would be their resolve, then I would know how to provide for their future and my own. If 34 Ubc mbitc ftiitfl of /©anoa otherwise, then it is foregone that my son David go forth into the world, and seek some other fortune, different from that mun might possess at home." " Then, be hai)py, dear neighbour and friend, in coming to a conclusion. Let Master David gird up his loins and set forth. My daughter is not for him, with my consent, nor for any other suitor, until she hath had an opportunity to give the right man a chance of making himself known. Lucy Withycombe is about to journey to London, where she will go to Court, look you, and mix with the nobility ; the Withycombes are of an ancient race — a west-country name equal to the best, and " "I hope you would not seek, madam, to put a slight upon the name of Yarcombe ? " the old man said, interrupt- ing the lady's somewhat scornful answer to his proffer of an alliance between the houses of Yarcombe and Withycombe ; made, nevertheless, without the faintest warrant from his son. " Not by any means, dear neighbour," she answered, rising from her chair with some show of hauteur. " I can only answer a plain question in a plain way, which is Devonshire, I believe; my daughter has no intention of marrying, nor, I may add, of spending her life in the humdrum village of Littleham or on the dreary shores ol Littleham Cove." "I wish you a very good day, madam," said Master Yarcombe, kicking the rushes, that had been freshly spread upon the clean floor, ac he stamped out into the garden, his stick ringing upon th^ paved footway. " A termagant ! " he muttered to himself, as he went across the road to the King's Head and ordered a stoup of liqudr. "An impudent old braggart in petticoats! Damme, I wish she'd been a man ! I never quite under- stood until now why Withycombe is so mild and butter- milkv : with a * bv ver leave ' and * bee oardon ' — damme, I say ! But 'tis as well. Now I know my cue and can l!?ouiHi Xove ant) e\b Umbition 35 speak my lines exact, as old Liberty Dent saith in the miracle-play. Lord, lord I What a world it is ! " The master of the King's Head, waiting until Varcombe had drunk his liquor, said: "I didn't rightly catch what you was saying, Master Yarcombe ; what might it be that you remarked ? " " Oh, 'twas nothing ; I think I was talking to munself. She be a hard-mettled dame, Mistress Withycombe ?" " And proud as Lucifer," said the landlord, with a smile. " Oh, we know her, I warrant you." " Pride goeth before a fall," rejoined Yarcombe ; « and I wish you a good day and good fortune, neighbour." " I thank you most hearty, sir," the landlord replied, speakmg to an empty room, for the angry master of the Old Farm had re-crossed the road, and was making for the near way over the fields to Littleham Cove ; a path which David had trodden so often, as blithely as the lark singing against the blue of April skies. " I am glad to find you at home," said David's father meeting his son on the threshold. "A word or two if you please." ' " At your service, father," David replied, following him into the house. " You are unwilling to look the future in the face," said the old man, as if he had learnt the words he was sayi .g by heart. "You of more than full age, three-and- twenty. I was a married man, with a son two year old at your time of life. He died. Had he lived, I might have had a heir keen to do man's duty. You are the son Df ray old age , none the less beloved. I hoped to endow you With the earnings of a lifetime, and the estate of a father upon whose name no blemish has ever fallen." " God bless you 1 " said David. "That is not the Question." thf nlrl m«« «»^i;«^ what disturbed. 3« Ube White Mm of /IDanoa ! 1:1 ! i I. i I il " I beg your pardon," said Da\'id, with a smile that threatened to break into a laugh, not of derision, but of affection ; the laugh of a son who, the next nioment, would have had his father in his arms. " Beg no man's pardon," came the quick reply ; " commit no offence that calls for it. . . . You have put me out. . . . Listen to me, and speak when I have done. ... I do not choose that the Old Farm, and my houses, lands, and hereditaments along the coast, shall pass out of the name of Yarcombe, and come to naught. My dead brother's son is a staid young man of thirty, a farmer to his finger-tips, honest, true, of spotless character ; you remember him ? " " I am listening, and will obey your injunction not to speak until you have finished," David replied ; though his cousin occurred to him as one concerning whose appearance there was nothing worthy of controversy. David had only seen him once or twice. He lived in Gloucestershire. "It is not my desire that mun should pack without scrip or favour, I shall bestow you well. A purse ample for the day ; a sum of money in reserve, at the bank of Bideford, and in London or Plymouth, if so desired ; but have no fear that I will see mun stinted of means, even to the extent of a ship, if needs must. But henceforth, except, maybe, as a guest, shake the dust of the Old Farm off thy feet, and go forth, whither 'tis meet for thy ambition and the gifts with which God hath favoured thee. . . . 'Tis with a sad heart I shall see my only son turn mun's back upon the home of his birth ; but turn it must, and without more delay, lest mun's best faculties rust, and thou be easy knocked on the head the first time ill-fortune bring thee face to face with yonder Spanish beasts of prey, and what not, since it be the false ambition of the men of Devon to seek them out, for glory and for plunder ; and God grant thou shalt do honour to mun's Queen and country 1 " or de JiomQ %ovc ane> mx> ambition 37 Having thus delivered himself, the old man staggered to a seat and covered his face with his hands. The tears trickled through his fingers. "God bless you, my dear, kind, thoughtful, magnani- mous old father! Nay, don't take it so to heart. I am sure you are doing an act of duty that smarts like a wound." David put his arms round the old man, who took from his pocket a vast cotton handkerchief and wiped his face and muttered denunciations of himself, as "an old fool, to blubber ; a weak, infirm old milksop ! But I love you mun, and that's the truth And I love my lands, and my name, and But I had forgotten to say that if it happen that you need it at my death, I have bequeathed unto you a house and garden, on the Dart ; 'tis but a cot, as one may say, but enough for a tired man ; and also that I leave thee a reversionary interest, so-called, in my estate, the management of which, under proper control of the' law, will be in the hands of thy cousin, and certain share of the same at my death." The old man looked up at David through his tears, glad that It had occurred to him to make these modifications in an otherwise sweeping act of partnership and testament • for, as yet, he had not signed the papers having regard to the disposition of his property, for which his lawyer had received instructions. " Nay, say no more, dear old friend and father," said David. "I am your son, and I shall endeavour to be worthy of you. . . . When shall I take my leave ? To-nieht or to-morrow?" "When art fitted out with such tnckle as thy plans may require," said the old man, now bracing himself to the pleasanter situation. "Maybe next week, or next month, or next year; 'tis as it mav hnn • 'h'o o^^^.^;.,„ .^ ...u.. .. . - .- — r } -• -J «--wiviiiij^ iw wijut mun aesires. . _ But I've made the way smooth for mun in 3« Zbc IKIlbite Ikina ot /Bbanoa respect of a certain lady, or, better say young girl, for she cannot be more than nineteen at most. She is not for David Yarcombe, or any other, her mother saith, and goes to London to be a Cour< 'ady " ^ " What do you mean, father ? " " I have been, as 'twere, ambassador to madam, and — heaven forgive me — found her a damned, hard-mouthed old betch ! She'd have us know that her family comes of a noble stock — damme, so does a porpoise, or a pelicum, if age counts for ancestry ! " " What are you talking of, father ? Of whom are you speaking ? " " Of old Mother Stiff-i'-the-back, that scorns, neither by your leave nor without it, to have thee for a son-in-law. . . . So get mun out among the brave and the free, and ennoble thyself, David, and God and St. George be thy armourers ; and that's all I have to say ; so see to it, my lad, see to it, see to it ! " The old man took up his stick and hurried into the house-place (they had been conversing in the best parlour), and David could hear him tramping into the yard, banging doors after him, like one retreating from the pursuit of an enemy. . . . David did not know what to make of it ; so he consulted a counsellor that never failed to soothe and give him patience. It was not often that he drew forth the magic pipe. There were times when his lute was his sweetest companion ; but the lute went best with an audience; the pipe that Raleigh gave to the English world was enough unto itself. . . . Dadd stooped to a cupboard mantel, and, taking therefrom a long white wooden pipe (the gift of Sidmouth Trevelion) with a darkened bowl, proceeded to place therein a small plug of the golden weed; which operation finished with loving carefulness, he opened the tinder-box that stood upon the hob (there was no fire in the best parlour; I louna %ove ani> mt> ambitton 39 dc.wn ..e easie. cL-llTnLrVovSar s^ CHAPTER V A CONFLICT OF TONGUES ASQUAK.L, formal old Tudor house. Broad facade, low windows, small square panes, a quaint gabled wing, thick, deep thatch, whitewashed walls, dimity curtams, a paved porch, white as the June roses that mingled their perfumes with marjoram, lad's-love, and the breath of the surrounding hedgerows. Within, whitewash agam, and timbered ceilings, oak chests, dressers filled with chma and copper pans ; the whole place open to the summer winds. An oak-cased clock on the stairs, hoarse with its many years of service ; and yet the Withycombe house had not struck old Peter Yarcombe as anything out of the common ; but he was too full of his own affairs to take note of the cleanliness and dignified formality of it all. The family were in council, when David arrived with his news; but before he could get out a word about his enforced departure, whither at present he knew not, Dame Withycombe flung at him, with the announcement that her daughter (she no longer called her "Lucy," but "our f daughter ») had been invited to join her cousin, Mistress Bessie Throckmorton, at Court, as her companion and friend, and with every prospect of advancement. « I came to surprise you;' said David, " but you have surprised me. I hope you are well, Lucy," he went on, addressing the girl and seeming to ignore the others. Lucy's father was accustomed to this kind of treatment, but Dame Withycombe was to-day on her very highest horse. 40 a Connict of UomncB facade, gabled urtains, ;d their of the n, and I china iummer with its I house t of the to take lU. with his tout his t, Dame jnt that )ut " our Mistress ion and ou have jvent on, others, lent, but horsc. 4T "I would beg to be favoured with your attention Mas er Yarcombe, if you will be so condescending » I am at your service, madam." David smiled at Lucy, as if to reassure her that he had "That I need no assurance of, madam; I am well con "The Throckmortons are our relations. My mother Bes^e 'Lucvini"'' T '\' »°'' «--°- '"ms, Mistress isessie Lucying our daughter and Lucy ' Bessvins ' h^. ." return, most familiar and affectionafe. T'need no remmd you that Mistress Bessie is one of Her m"s Excellent Majesty's ladies-in-waiting" ' " You need not," David answered, with deference "All D on .s aware of the fact, and happy i„ its know'dge." ingforThe'filTmr ''''"'''""' >Vithycomt>e. U- ask'ed"' "*"' "*■"■ "^""^ '° '"^ •"""""»"?" David " What our daughter should say " -'^XLuStrunr.t'^---— ^ "Refuses?" exclaimed Dame Withycombe -Vn .• she accepts, with a heart that is gratefu'if prtd." "^ "'^ David "rwe^d. "' ""' ' *"" '""' '°' "" ""PPines," nothiL «„;:.....!!'' °^ ""^ ^''""'y. «"' 'eUyou, therms «oretL„7;:igh^:^,rds:S"°" '"''"" "°*'"« 4a Zbc mbitc -t^ing of /iDaiioa „ .^f ^'^ ^°°^^^ ^' ^"^y- She stammered a " but " and an "if," and was very much embarrassed. "Yes, yes, daughter," said old Withycorabe, taking the cue from his imperious wife, " we know what you would say. If Master David were the settled and acknowledged heir to his father's estates, which he is not, and I am bound to say I know it from evidence I have gathered far from Littleham " " You know my cousin, then ? " said David, interrupting him. ° " I do, my young friend," the old man replied ; « he came to Exmouth and Littleham while you were coasting about Dartmouth." "I congratulate you, sir, on making so desirable an acquaintance," said David. "As my husband was about to say, when you interrupted him," madam interposed, " we cannot consent to anything in the nature of a tie between you and our daughter; not alo .e because you are in question as to your future, but that we desire our daughter to see the world before she commits herself to well to, let us say, a promise of marriage. Is it not so, my love ? " "David," said Lucy, looking him in the face, .he tears n her eyes. " Oh, David " " Nay, my dear, I know what you would say." Lucy did not know at the moment, so it was well that * David could interpret her looks. "I love your daughter, madam, and shall never ask any other woman to be my wife. But, ere ever I ask you for her hand, I will lay at her feet such a fortune as her father and mother may well regard as sufficient for the material comfort and happiness of their daughter. ... And for anything else, my life, my future, all my hopes are hers ; and that I say before all the world, come what may." " Oh, David I " once more exclaimed Lucy ; and she a CotiBict Of ^onfluee what a vocabulary she had L V- T"^' ''''=" °"^ ^"°«^ be, what a tongue here 1^,;' ' """ "^^'^ *« '""M 'he other hand David IZ 1^" "^""^ """"h- • • • On nor, perhaps, ^ore el^.Z iTZ ."""t "^^' "' ^P^*' love and ambition for his ™C^ "'' ' ''P^'^^'°" "^ ^is "Oorf *7.Liiey do prefer another than me » h God helping, I „ii, gi , ' '"="> ■ne. he went on, »"h her own lips that she no L.^. ""'" '^' '"" ""^ rest until J have n,ade he'ly wl" '""^ "■^' ^ ^h"" -ver new po^'o:zt'::z^z:!:: :''''':' ^''='"- °^ »- Portant match with one of Z^'T' ""'=" * g''^" ^nd im- Even now.you said you »ou not^td ."h '""' '^"""^^ 'Oh, mother, mother! "exclaimeH T ^ "*^ "^ " ftem all: "what value do youTe ur^ ^^; '"'^''"'"'y ''^'='"8 «ttmg out for town to seerafl?;""'' "" """"'^^ S'^' or to serve her friend and m.stts !! h ' "[*' """"^S'-' she m her turn doth serve he^m^? u °"'"'^ ^'''l "■"« as Mother, oh! mother, ^e^t, "2"^'" ^''^"''ethf --ties, you know tU' To.e" a: I' '^""'''' ""<» hme 1 am conscious of the dutv r ' "^'' *' "'^ '^"e "Other;" turning to whom rth d°'™ '".""^ ''^^^^ ""'i there be an end of this nrL ^ ^"•^""^ *''« ^ ■ lO .'i-i m CHAPTER VI A BATTLE WITH SWORDS WALKING on air, David sped over the fields and along the lanes, to tell Master Sidmouth Trevelion of his good luck and to ask him to take him as a fellow- adventurer. He imagined to himself, as he hurried along, the joy of the old mariner. He saw a quick fortune of precious things won on the seas, and perhaps a position, too, at Court. Why not? He was well-read, a scholar,' master of the Latin tongue, versed in Greek and French, and learned in many ways. He would not have said as much to any one, but could not help confessing it to himself. Oh, how he would work and strive and fight, until he could claim the girl of his heart. A great captain,' perhaps an officer of the Queen, God knows what; and all at once he saw in the distant sea the shape and form of an island of gold, with mountains of the precious metals, palms^ ferns and flowers. ..." Who knows," he said to himself, " that this may not be an omen of good fortune 1 " He stood still to watch the sunset. . . . Have you not often seen the clouds on a summer night, when they have piled themselves up into mountains of gold around smooth lakes and seas of tinted crystal, with every kind of tropical foh'age in the valleys between— some such illusion as the mirage of a lake in the desert, that mocks the thirsty traveller ?...«! thin': I am mad with joy," the lad said to himself, bounding on again, nor stopping now until be is shaking hands wiih Sidmouth Trevelion, and offering a battle wftb Swor^a David was not hfmTelf A f '" "" "'■'"^'" tears and kisses of his seUhMrJul ""*"' ""*' ""^ '°""g 'ost all his presence of m7nij,"P°" *"' ''>«■ h^ f-'-d only intended for Mast"'!^,:"'^ "?°'' '"""'^ """ "« ^ad close by, drinking with a ^rto'Tlf T ^' "'^ "'"^ow, " Vou he ! .. shoute'd KelcrZ t""^' ."^"''^•^""•be." David turned with =, ™' f™™ 'he window. stalking fron, the We "ed h '".k" ''^""°^'' -""^ than himself. ^'' ''^ ""'«>■« "ttle less drunk "Regard him not," said Trevelion. Kennoc; mXraroi:,^ t^^^;^^ of my boot." roared "Nay, Master Kennock thl '"r"""'^ "''^«- beg thou wilt retire "said Tre^r '" ""-"^"""ed, and I 'vhen his feelings were mo,Tf "'? "" ^'^'^"^ ^'"Phasis "Which is i:rn^z:^^z::^--^r.,s.. swaggermg insolence, "he who J / u- ™°<=''' *"h talks of marriage, or'he whl ' si^emth T""""' ='"<' the consent of the lady's parents ?" ^^^ """"'^ "^ said S;rt' nl'rri^^^'!""^ "-• -%hbour Kennock- , -■, -.-i.i,..,g oecween Uavid and his enemy! 46 Ube HQlbtte ftiito ot /IDanoa "Brawl, an you list I spare the lady the shame of naming her ; can he say as much ? " shouted Kennock. Trevelion, with a restaining hand on David's arm, replied, " Thou should'st not have listened to a private conversation ; but, having done so, 'twas surely a knavish trick to force thyself into our confidences." " Knavish trick in your teeth ! " said Kennock, pushing aside David's friends and Trevelion, who desired peace. " Thou'rt drunk, else would I cut thy wizend, thou inter- loper!" Trevelion replied. "Come, David, this is no company for us." "But, by Our Lady, 'tis company for you!" shouted Kennock, trembling with passion. " By whom dost swear, thou Papist son of Antichrist ? " retorted Trevelion, David standing calmly by his side, bravely suppressing a desire to be at Kennock's throat. The old Puritan's blood was up, a fresh interest quickening his animosity by the discovery that at heart this braggart, Kennock, was what he always suspected him to be, an enemy to the true God, and hi league with Father Absolem, who had quarters at the Manor House, as was not denied by Master Blatchford, a privileged Justice who, in that out- of-the-way corner of the world, still, though without ostenta- tion, defied the ordinances of the Reformed Church. " Swear'st by Our Lady— what lady, sirrah ? " demanded Trevelion. "Stand apart from him, lads; this is my quarrel." " I have no quarrel with you," Kennock replied ; " the coward at your side is my man ; our quarrel is an old one. To-day we meet opportunely, and will settle it. Draw and defend yourself." Except for his dagger, a weapon more for ornament than use (and David had donned his best attire for his memor- able visit to the Withycombes), the lad was unarmed ; but in a fit of mad passion he burst into the midst of the excited * Battle witb Swort)i 4; group and with the back of his left hand struck Kennock m the face; at the same moment, seizing him by the wrist of his sword-arm, he prevented Kennock from unsheathing nis weapon. ^ "Friends, friends, desist!" shouted Dent, drawing, and placing himself in an attitude of protection towards David Part them, part them 1 " cried the others ; and the two adversaries were held forcibly aloof from each other "Give me a sword I " cried David ; « and stand ye apart good friends." ^ ^ * Kennock had drawn his Italian rapier, as fine a weapon as money could buy, and would have advanced upon David even unarmed as he was, had not Dent and Trevelion bared their blades against him. "Back, ere I stab thee!" said Trevelion. "Friends we constitute ourselves a Court of Honour." Kennock retreated, flung aside his jerkin, and examined his weapon. " Take my sword, David," said Trevelion; "it shall not shame thee. 'Tis Spanish ; the better it shall become the traitorous flesh of .hine enemy, pricked with the toasting- fork of a don." ^ " Curses on you, we waste time ! " said Kennock David kissed his sword, and felt how it became him " It hkes me well," he said. ^^^" That shall it ! " said Trevelion. " Off with thy doublet. Half stripped to his waist, the lad was a picture of bright manhood ; thick brown hair pushed back from a fair oL forehead, deep blue eyes, lithe of limb, and of more than medium stature, he might have been Virtue typified in antagonism with Vice; though Vice was broad of chest powerful, and, throwing off his drunken swagger, no^ » S a very formidable cut-throat. neighbours, give them room," said Dent 48 Xlbe TObite Icitia ot /Danoa i,<= M-"o^ House, my lads." W »*-, .....»..„g „,s men hard by, "while I summoft the so Ubc mmc Ikiitd ot manoa crowner to hold his quest." Then, turning to his armed escort an6 pointing to Trevelion and David, he commanded their arrest. " What ! " said Trevelion. " Arrest us 1 Wherefore, and by what warrant ? " "By the authority of the law, and in fulfilment of my duty as a Justice of the Peace." " A fig for such Justice ! " said Liberty Dent. " Master David Yarcombe did but defend himself from murderous attack, and neither he nor Master Trevelion will be arrested so long as there be a sword or a cudgel among us. What say you, comrades ? " "As thou sayestl" they shouted, leaving the body of Kennock, and facing the Justice and his men. " Methinks 'twere best. Master Blatchford, that you talked not of anesting and the like, lest we tear the Manor House about thine ears, and make it a pyre for thee and thy Papist spy.** " Dajitard, misbeliever 1 " said Blatchford, beside himself. " Lay hands upon him." " At your peril," answered Trevelion. The foremost of the Blatchford escort lowered his halberd and advanced, to be immediately disarmed and thrust back upon his fellows, who were thus thrown into disorder. " Coward 1 " exclaimed Blatchford, frowning upon his unhappy retainer. " Nay, he's no coward," said Trevelion. " But should he pluck up courage to come on again, I'll make dead meat of him as sure as he's a misguided and misbegotten knave." Liberty Dent and the others backed up Old Sid, and seemed to be spoiling for a fight. The halberdiers did not reciprocate their heat. They 1 j.u_:_ T* i: .-. ^-,.._i »_ -, L __ &!*c«v Wicu uicu. i.icvc!!uti nu3 ci^uai lu a scuic sue*! us a JSattlc vrttb Swor6s 5, they, and they knew it. Moreover, they felt like men fighfng .n a bad cause. Blatchford's servants were noTess unpopular than their master. cat'ther- tTn fu^'^'l ^'""''"'^' °' ^y "y =<"" "«"" aTmckiT'thr . :^. °r'' ""^"^ "^'^ ^y David f^m attackmg the lot smgle-handed ; while the landlord of the Merma.d stood calmly in his doorway ready to ptey the part of a pacific or warlike citizen whichever might I 'o -^■"^ advantage of a man who had the misfortune to be one of the tenants of Blatchford the Justice "It shall not be said, even in the course of duty that caused any man's blood to be shed." said Blatchord .s suffiaent that I know ye all, and, sooner or late/can hale ye before the law and ensure your punishment Men lower your arms, and carry our murdered brother hence » The serpent ,s counted wise, but he hath to go upon h.s belly" sa,d Trevelio..; "and thou sMlt groTel tT M^ter Blatchford I've a mind to take thee no.'^Zt^l thee on board the Saint Paul to Gravesend, and Sve thee answer for thy treason in London." " Heed him not," commanded Blatchford "Obey your master," said Trevelion, as the Blatchford tnreatenmgly.) 'Take up your brother if so you reeard h.m. We who know him for a double-dyed tS regard h.m as carrion not worthy Christian burial The only con^lat,on honest men can have in contemplating such an EngHsh-speaking villain is that he i, dea7 ttat he was no Devonian, nor e'en a true-bred islander his mother bemg a harlot and hi, father the devil hims^'f -'' continrirfnT ^""V ""^SSeration, and Blatchford contmually foUowmg h,m with a shifty eye seemed to untate h.s nerves; so that he was less dignified than Z ~ -tis-^vi ii/ijig circuiiiatances. It was weU that Blatchford presently tumed hi. hack rX.: 1 A.T 52 tbc mbltc mwQ of riDanoa ,' iM upon Trevelion and the rest, and followed in the wake of his men, who had raised the body of Kennock upon their shoulders and were bearing it away towards the Manor House. " There will be trouble," said Trevelion to David, when the lad had washed himself and partaken of a rousing stoup of liquor, and had received the congratulations of his friends. "An Blatchford were shrewd herein as we might wish, he would let this flea stick ; but he has others to consider; he will be pushed on to seek revenge, in the name of Justice. We will slip our cable before his anchor's raised, my lad, and forestall his mandate. No knowing what he may contrive against thee. 'Tis hist we go aboard the Samf Paul to-night, and sail for t^e Thames, whither I have an official call. I will to Littleha m Cove, and make arrangements with thy father and explain what has occurred. Hie thee to thy mistress, and taV? thy leave. Nay, answer me not • 'tis best ; trust me to know when the finger of the Lord points me the way; and thus it is. Get thee gone. Friends, lend mun a horse ; and, my lads, some of you shall row me round to Littleham Cove, and bring to the Samt Paul Master David's be- longings, his chest and kit and the like. Come, my lads, bustle, bustle." In little less time than it takes to relate, David was galloping to Littleham and Trevelion was steering his pinnace for the landing-place of the Old Farm. In the distance, they could both see the funereal procession of the Blatchford crew, wending along the hillside near by the port of Topsham. 3600ft II TAULS WALK, LONDON, AND THEREABOUTS CHAPTER I "rWIXT SACK AND SWORD I ""r/ne/ bv hU r'"? ^Z "'^" '''''"' ^"'^^^-^ L°"don- i warned by his friend and captain to have a care how he comported himseKwith strangers who might accosThim man of ht W ? ? "'"^'" '""^'^ ''^'^ ""^e another man of him He felt a new sense of power. A man mieht know something of the theory and rules of battle, and the Ton T '""''' ''"'^'^ ^"^* b"' to stake one^ if^ upon nothing more than the experiences of a bloodless practice brought into play new and untried powe sTo n I' i l, ! '^^^' ""'' ""y ""h your weapon against t^e naked blade of a murderous adversary the«e „.„f that David would have doubted 0"^:; hTd he ™d into a conflict in cold blood. Englishmen had probably fought duels in France in .m. and in Italy_^. hundred years before this treT'bi" Spain, th English fought and killed each other 53 in M 54 Ubc mbitc mng ot manoa quarrel, but without much regard for comparative considera- tions of weapons, or any code of honour in the manage- ment thereof. They drew upon each other, and got the busmess over while their blood was up ; though, in what might be called the higher walks of military life and social distinction, some show of warning and punctilio of practice were no doubt observed. The French have taught us many pernicious things. Though we knew how to wield the sword from the day we first began to wear one, it was the lively Gaul who made us proficient in the duello. The wager of battle in the Middle Ages was a different affair altogether. It needed the feline temperament of the French- man to elaborate the judicial encounter into the polite art of the quarrel innuendo, and the nod offensive that should evolve scientific murder. The Italians bit their thumbs at each other; the French had a thousand methods of affront. Happily for David, with the fine clothes his fellow- countrymen imported from the continent of Europe, they had not as yet annexed, as a popular fashion, the Continental duello; otherwise, the lad's haughty bearing, the defiant way in which he locked about him, his physical protests against being jostled in the streets, more especially in Paul's Walk, had procured him quick and frequent challenge. It was not David's intention to assume an air of pride and arrogance, for he was a modest-minded fellow; but his new and g.ny surroundings, freedom from the narrow- ness of shipboard, the bright May morning, his first visit to the capital, and a certain push of confident manliness fostered by his successful prowess in the overthrow of the Papist spy at Exmouth, not forgetting his hope of seeing Lucy, buoyed him up into a fever of elation. At the same time his Christian education and his naturally reverent regard for an edifice dedicated to the worship of God made Paul's Walk, in his estimation, a scandal '^wlyt Sacft anb Swor^ exhibition of mere hTlJ ■ '°" '"'° ">« °"ly gracious ca^er X, ^Td hT^'T '"'" '"^"''='1 "'' view of the de ecmttn of fh u ^."" ^'' ''^^""g^ '" ■n the Puritan 2 of Oue! 'tr''^' ''"'"'' "' P^"'"' 'hought passed .ht,g;' i^^d v?"'f .' '°'"^ ^"^^ wandered about the sacred .Hfi ^^"'°"''^' ™i"d as he to note the vice of itTndIhe f '^^ ^"^'"^ ""' '"" ">en was set apart for devoVo^^i tl^^e'^^ "' ''' <^-- *- Eveo-lh:;°"e,t"trr at"'" '° ''"''"''' ---• «>ysie.ing, and vile iraffic of allTnT""' ""''^^"'"''S- and Jlary, i„ their tiJ.^\,r ^ "^"^ ""■ Philip Ho.es a^d mut^htlb'tt ^1'^ '^^. r^/' made it a penal offence t^ h Elizabeth had hand-gun or da. therein M '"'°''^'' °' *°°' ">* made for the payme„ro" ™on" "^", "«-«■"-"" 'o be 'heless, all this was don "7 '" ' '''"*• ^ever. considering that under PW^p'Tm " """«" '"■"«• Papal ceremonial had taken nh ^"'' " ^"™' °f hghted in the chapels a^d 1 ^ ..*^'"'^''' ''"'^ •>««" ;;.e ..ffic Of the sStstadr:Ldl;r;ar ^- f" atv.^nhe";i:::rr^;rv'-^'^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ and the whole cLrch n^.h .k^' '''"^""* '°™ down. ;■" ever, kindtf Sur^^r Sf "^ht """^^ "°''^- he people made no impression ?' u costuming of ''"'an exaggeration of .""3 o7L ' """ " "« of his native county - russet rfll, '^'"^' *"d towns -etimes with JntTtllZ^t^Ct'T' '"^ ^'^"^^- " ""^^- "'° '^""''''"d. for example, had a :;;';;her 56 Ubc mbitc fUinQ ot mama over which tht doublet was laced, and he wore a long coat or gown with lo sc-hanging sleeves and a hood, turn- over collar of velvet, and broad-toed shoes. When men rode, they wore high boots to tin knees. In the female costume the principal features were the slashing of the sleeves, the squa:- ;ut of the bodice in the neck, and the laced stomachers or vests. Low head-dresses vainly com- peted with tali. Elizabtth flung her elaborate construction of wig and precious stones into 'he scale, and the prettj caul of gold network with flowing hair was bumped out ot vogue ; though rich girdles with chains remained by way of ornament. From skimpy skirts to balloon-like .^rrangenies^ts of stiif brocades, the Tudor dress varied, as belies' fashions usually do; and there were adcfed an embarrassing ccllactiun of ready-made garments broughi from over the seas by pur- chase or by sack of niit.s and loot of ships. As they do to this day, women as v.'dl a' men wire waistcoats. Men of fashion were veritable popinja) ^ of ricii and eccentric attire ; doublets full of basses :c;temen. !! highest a^^^ti^; some If lem""'' "' '"' "'"-'^ was held in the choirn^h ^°'"« '° '"'='' ^*"'<=« "» Citizens on thdr ^ay" 'o tsLss" cr\*^^^'^°'"- '"^"^ livpc Tr r uusiness, Churchmen of earnPQ^ lives. If some few cantainc o„^ j earnest trade and discovery ^Tl::^^-^^^^^ were never without a leaven of .n.K ' ""*'* ambition and men of probi.7andh:::t" ""^ °' "f"^ woe, there is a Paul's Walk ;„ ! • • • For weal or , if you are seeldn^ hTtl . Z™' '^^ °^ ''^ "°'''^' outside the ordinary ^^ o esiSC O """'^ question, after all, whether PiSy aLs i! T tha:rpf:;^^rrtrd'^~'-^'"^-- ^ on the ^^z:]^^;;7:Tftr' -n hussies, in low bodices and "wUhlhTLdai.": S8 XTbe White 1^tna of /ll>anoa tow-hair that has been the mark of infamy even in our own time. At another less happy moment, as it transpired, David had to resist a hard-pressed invitation to repair to ar\ adjacent tavern and drink a cup of sack. " Nay, an you will not drink, mayhap you'll fight, honest countryman ? " said a swashbuckler villain, backed up by a couple of equally evil-looking ruffians. "I only fight with the enemies of my country," said David calmly; "and I'll be bound, good friend, you are none." "I am that man's enemy who offers me oflfence," said the man of ostentatious hospitality. " And in what have I offended ? " asked David. " To flout me and my \io\he invitation is to put upon me a base and damned affront, my master. 'Twould be other, perchance, in thy beggarly country ; but you must learn, my Jack Pudding of the Fens, that among us, the nobility of the metropolis, to invite is to command. Tis thine to choose, 'twixt sword and sack." " I choose neither, and bid ye a good-day," said David, turning aside ; at which moment a ruffian snatched at his well-filled pouch, but was hit squarely on the mouth and sent sprawling, while David, posting himself against one of the pillars in the aisle, drew upon the others, and looked so formidable that the ruffians fell back ; and a stranger interposed, one evidently in authority. " Tis against the law to draw in Paul's," he said. " Put up your sword, young sir ; and as for you " But as he was about to address David's cowardly assailants, they quietly dispersed. The stranger, taking David's arm, led him from the place, and, while denouncing the vices and follies of the day. carried him to the very tavern whither the braggart ruffian from whom he had escaped would himself have 'TTwiart SacJi mb Swor6 59 brought him ; for the professed friend was no other than a confederate. "Though we fight with Spain," said the stranger, courteously offering David a seat, "we know how to honour her industries and to salute her daughter. Saith the poet, Jerez,' for which read sack, Ms the daughter of J^evi le ; let us pay court to the donnacella. Drawer, a bowl of sack ; and, prithee, a manchet of bread and a platter of cheese, to qualify the same and comfort the stomach " The drawer smiled, and answered with alacrity ; and the stranger cast him down a gold piece, and bade him buy a ribbon for his mistress with the change. "Fill our cups, good Ganymede," he continued, address- ing the drawer in his flowery fashion, « until the golden bubbles o'ertop the rims That's well. ... And now young sir, in the righteous fashion of the time I crave to pledge you first, that suspicion of poison in the cup be null and void ; . . . 'tis a villainous thought, ... but these are days of treachery Long life, and many adventures ' " He drained the cup, and David raised his own with a Pious toast: "By the Grace of God, may evil hap ever find a ready friend ! " "And ready friend as brave a youth," the stranger rejomed, while David emptied his beaker. "'Tis a powerful wine," he said, pressing his lips together rather frowningly, than to commend it. "The only drink for heroes," said his host. David broke a crust of bread and munched it. The stranger helped himself to cheese, and, inviting the drawer to fill the cups again, tossed off another measure and smacked his lips. David put forth his hand, the- drew It back, and looked at his host. " You drink it with a relish." " And when i cannot, may the gods recall me from this petty sphere of roguery and remorse." 6o Ubc TOblte 'ftinfl of manoa f.'-m "Wouldst lead me into the air, kind friend? I feel fai.it." " Into the air ! With pleasure, young sir. But whither would'st thou ? " "To Durham House," said David, his conscience pricking him that he had not on landing first sought to know whether Lucy had arrived in town. "To Durham House ? " repeated the stranger. "How far is it hence?" " A mere step ; by Lud;, . e r^. .Lc Strand, by boat a few splashes of the oars. Bu! ivhy to Durham House?" David made no reply, but strove to rise to his feet. " Art not well, dear friend ? " asked his host. "Nay, I am sick unto fainting," said .uxu, .ying back in his chair. . . . "The room grows dark. ... I fear I must have taken some hurt. . . . Give me air." He raised his h^^nds towards his head, fell forward upon the table, and presently collapsed ; whereupon the drawer came forward, and with him the first ruffian who had assailed David in the church. With calm deliberation they unstrapped his pouch, and divided its contents between them. "The remainder for the general good," sa-d the professed friend of the poor lad ; " 'tis a sword of value." He drew David's weapon and lashed the air with it, while the others unbu kled his belt, and rt moved his jerkin and vest and a trinket or charm which their victim wore about his neck. The first ruffian examining fhis and removing several fine rings frc-n David's hands, the drawer proceeded to strip him to his shirt Unlacing his vest, he had not noticed th >mk ihat ^ ster Sichnouth Trevelion had given him on board ship; a weapon fa,shioi.c«l something like a dagger but of - lore primiMve form r^nd very plainly si.eathed. fastened by a strap ^o the lower part of the vest, it came undor.e and slipped i'.t . the U[»pcr part of David's left-leg boot, and there remained. tlwtst Sacft an^ Swor6 «, 'aking David byX h«l *' /"""r- ""^ °f *«■" carried him from ,he L^a T " > ""= ''^'"'- '"ey m an outer vrrd "^i ^fP°"'«^ h™. «" of a heap, -ha„d.i.,i.rgXxrsht-::s^,r^'''e * « I CHAPTER II DAVID IN THE ASSASSINS* DEW THE ruffians of Paul's W !k had not reckoned with the stout constitution of their victim. Nor had they counted upon their troceedings being somewhat hastened at the last moment by a disturbance among the band. The voices that had sb rpened their final movements were in dispute over other booty than that of which they had despoiled their latest victim. This rendered necessary the presence of the chief who had played the part of the benevolent host, and for the moment, drew further attention from David ; but only for the moment, seeing that among the crew there was one who, with his jaw bound up, was eager for revenge. The concoction with which David's cup had been lined, though not a potent poisoii, was a heavy narcotic, sufficient in the experience of his murderous assailants to ensure insensibility for several hours at least. David proved an exception to their diagnoses of previous cases. The pure red blood of Devon and the muscular strength that comes of healthful exercise fought for him, and the fresh air of heaven soon began to throw off the effects of the drug. He awoke with a cold wind blowing upon his face and lifting his tangled hair. His memory began to take vague shape of the actualities of his position. He felt^or his sword. It was gone. His instinct at once told him that it was useless to feel for his purse. But-. 6a 2)avi& In tbe aggnsafns' ©ctt $$ deep down in his k\ boot, he came upon his knife. The touch of it acted like a magnet ujKjn his sfuttcied nerves. The spring of hope leaped into his heart. When presenting him with the knife, Master Trevelion had said : " It has been a good friend to me ; take it, and in case of need it may serve tlice also ; for, while we are servants of the Lord, we are men of war ; and I beg thee put on thy boots, they are more meet for the slimy mud and filth of the London streets than such shoon as bucks may wear at Court ; and if good fortune should bring thee to Sir Walter Raleigh, to whom I have commended thee, it will heighten his regard to see thee wisely attired; for, though he delighteth in fine raiment and silken hose, he hath an eye for what ia practical in such as serve Her Majesty unon the sea." * The master's characteristic speech and warning flashed through David's mind, and he almost chuckled as he clutched the knife. He found it difficult to get upon his feet ; for he had been flung down upon the ground without regard to the possibility of dislocating his limbs. The air might well feel keen, now that he had nothing but his shirt and boots to temper the wind to the shorn lamb. " A lamb that may yet play the wolf, by God's justice " he said to himself, as the consolatory biblical text occurred to him ; » and surely, 'tis not by His gracious xvill that I shall not escape hence." Night was coining on apace. There was sufficient of the twilight left for him to reconnoitre the place, as he leaned against a cold stone wall. He was in the open air • ' that was something to his advantage. The wall, that shut him m on one side, was tall and thick. In a corner was an immense water-butt, under he gable of a half-ruined building ; and then came the room whence he had been carried.^ There was a fitful li^^ht burning within, but the rest Oi the yaiu wab in darkness. )3|^^^Vr ^^H ■ 1 ■ te:d ■^■pP ^^^H » I \ 64 nbc mbitc mno of mama David now proceeded to feci for some possible pro- uberance m the wall that might assist him in an attempt to scale ,t. While he was in the act. a door was opened by a man who came into the yard holding before him a antern by the light of which David tliought he recognised the ruffian who had attempted to steal his purse in the church ; a burly, truculent rogue, the lower part of whose face was now bound up with a cloth. David slipped down upon h.s knees, and remained huddled up. as if helpless. He knew it was no good pretending insensibility or death for the man had seen him move ; the which he speedily signified by a grunt and a volley of abuse. "You damned hell-hound 1 » he exclaimed, as he held up the lantern, the better to see his prisoner. "Coming to. are ye? I'll pay you, for a broken jaw, my whelp of hell; and that's the pit you'll come to, when I've done with yon." He emphasised this sulphurous threat with a kick, and then stooped to place his lantern upon the floor, the prologue to his murderous operations. The next moment he received a shock that was a greater surprise for him than the thump of David's fist in the church. As he deposited his lantern close by the lad and spread his legs as if for firm footirg while he reached for his dagger, David deftly thrust his head underneath the ruffians body and ilung him clean over his head; the would-be assassin coming down upon his back with a thud that shook the water-butt a.id forced from the human lump a roar equal tc the bellow of a stricken ox. In a moment David was upon him, his hand at his throat. IJie villain nuide but a poor fight of it; as well he might, hampered with a half-broken neck. The lamb was as wolfish as an accustomed and hardened soldier niight have been. At the sound of footsteps he 8Uppeav>t5 ''^^d man's purse, crT'in tt .h"" " °"'- , '^'■"^ ■^"'^ "^"-l 'heir comrade'. cry m the th.evos' assembly room, and counted it as the consummation of vengeance which they had not L^d to deny to offended pride and a broken jaw. Done with him, comrade ? » was the challenge. And for him," grunted David. "He rjjade co' enough to be heard at the gates of St. Peter, was the reponse, and David passed on He groped h,s way through a dank, cell-like place and cam. to a heavy oaken stairway, dimly lighted A ^f and cry was raised behind him. His tragic 'ru^ had been d.scovered. Ins-^ad of the body of thel du,^, they hIS dragged ,nto the light the corpse of their comrade. ^ Oavid fled up the stairway to find it defended by a counle of armed sentinels. Dashing his lantern into the f ce ^f them -IW " """-;: ^■'" "''^ ""'f'^- -<* '-"ed ; thLh. . •"■'^ "'" ="""«'' ''Bht for him to see that he was m a narrow stone corridor. It led to an open doorway. There were niches in the w,.ll, and oophoes, as ,f the building had been a fortrcs He ...rned onwards, urged by the rattle of quick foorstem behmd h,m, and a murmur of voices. As he sped 7^ he doorway he turried and pulled the door which w!n! 12 "-ockets with a noise that started ech^s^t Zd' »™are:ran"raror::;t"vr " '''""z ""-""• ... k /• *"J^ ""■'"■*"' "It. 1 liere was a window He .»hed for ,t. A faint light can.e in fron, a lantern hune .-Sh ,n a str^t or passage-way without, fhe wtdow ad openmg. From such hurried glance as he was permitted It seemed as if it h.i,l n ,lr,„, ..r .„-,... , i>-(i.iiuca, uri ., ,. ~ — ■-'i-' ui many (uet to tiic ^rounri NVhtle he was deliberating whether he should attempt to 66 Zb€ rabitc ftma or mama force it, the door he had closed was flung open, and two of his pursuers dashed into the room. One of them posted himself before the archway entrance to the apartment; the other closed in upon the fugitive. David manreuvred to get his back to such light as there was, and, sword in one hand, knife in the other, prepared to sell his newly rescued life dearly. Quickness of sight is of great moment in a combat with swords ; but David had to feel with his point rather than see with his eyes, though he had the advantage over his adversaries, inasmuch as he could see, now and then, both their faces, and thus judge their distances. They attacked him with great care and deliberation, unwilling to risk an unnecessary scratch. In such an encounter intellectual superiority counts for spmething, and David had them there. Keen observation of what is actually taking place, a knowledge of one's own resources, and acquaintance with combinations of attack and repulse, are important considerations. David was a ma.'er, in his way, of such knowledge as was taught and practised in battle. Ere duelling came in as a fashionable accomplishment, he had learnt the use of both sword and dagger. This doubling of weapons was not altogether new to the two bruvos, who paraded with deadly intent, the one on guard, the other almost immediately at the thrust. Gradually coming to close quarters, they plied David with many a wary feint and many a keen and subtle thrust and head-blow. They had at once realised the sort of swordsman they had to deal with. His overthrow of their fellow-thief, whose jaw he had first broken and then, deluding their chief, had sent him to his account, gas- conading now in his very jerkin and meeting them with his looted sword, might well make them treat him with a certain show of respect. Neither of fhpm cnni-o. u^k.'Ia *u^.. r u. i>ilviU a»av)(6 fn tbc assassins' ©en 67 ■ntervals .He send ^ of Jl J X^:« /l^,'';:^ and star„,ng diversion. Dashing bet;een the .wo ^e struck up the other's sword with his dagger, and a^ain IT. z: "K^rr"^'' '"o'^^"' »--«. 'to wLr more time. I.urthern,ore, he had raised the devil i„ l^mJ """!"'■ ""^ "°'^' -'" «^-- and c se to listen, and David distinctly heard the oncoming of other pursuers He backed to the wai„,c"ed Jall o he chamber, the better to avoid a new plan of a ack by the more wary of his two assailants; who appro^ch^ i""kin;'L:":; "':, ''"' movemen.;and su'cS ^ Cn ll H :'"u?' '" '"■' ''"SKO^-a™- Uavid darted reratbeU"the.V'r/'""^ '" ""^ '"^^'' "••" ^ad to retreat before the blind fuo- of slash and thrust that made he other adversary more dangerous than when he ^„ smered h,s strokes and dealt them warily fj/n l'"^ ""^ •" '■'"' ^'^ °"^« ">°«. beginning to feel that h,s case was desperate; when, a the momem fe ItLZlftfe't;'™'^^^'-' "- -" ^'-e way.TnTh ell through the sudden opening of a panel, which closed "pon hm. w,th a click like the sound of a handgun CHAPTER III GOOD SAMARITANS, THOUGH PAPISTS T_T IS sword went clattering upon the floor ; but he still 1 1 clutched his knife. He lay for some minutes half- stunned. Then, finding he was alone, and that his enemies vainly thundered against his new defence, he lay still, and thought and listened, his heart beating with his exertions, his breath cohiing in gasps, the warm blood trickhng down his arm. It was restful to lie still. A prayer of gratitude to God rose to his lips. It was evidently a panel of enormous thickness that had been his salvation. The strokes of the villains' sword-hilts and their voices sounded quite afar off. It must surely have been a panel of stone. No mere wood, even of the toughest oak, could withstand the blows that were showered upon it. Now his curiosity was aroused, as well as his anxiety to make the best of his sudden stroke of good fortune. He rose to his feet, picked up his sword, and looked about him. He was in a half-ruined hall or chamber of solid stone. It was lighted by day with a deep oriel window, now broken and open to the sky, and, furthermore, by a kind of turret, that had been partly destroyed. The night was clear and bright, and the stars were shinin- in at both apertures. He ound that he had fallen clean over a short flight of steps. But there was no sign of door or opening of any kind above, nor any indication of wain- scotmg or wood ; so that the trap or panel, that had giyea 09 doob Samaiftans, tbouab papists 69 panelled waHs of oak Dawf ^t V" "' °*" ^'''^ "^^ . took off his jerkin and ,!! ""'" *""" ">« ^'«P». ^h.«. endeavJJ^rlnplr::u:; r^ °' '^" veiy successful, and the loss nf h n 7, . "'■" ""» ..-^^diness. .. No. no, Ba^- hi St ^ °?„: ::-«^' fe-mmg ; up, and on, lad. What's yonderT" "' Ihere w£5 a glimmer of liirht af .K» . j , way that led from the ston. T k "'' °' = "^"O" outlet to the street He hJ^",° "•""' ■"'*.*">«"" of some mona r^ or rdiu, T I '"'"^'' '"« ™'" degraded and disman ,e 'ThL "Ce ma '''\''t"'' "'"' in the metropolis, as there wel MoThe " t"s onhe'k "^ T "' For a little while he thought th7l!Z "^''°'"- through a broken casement but J h " ""' *'"'"S saw that it came thro'g" he chink of H' '"""'^ "' ""^ hole, or, perchance, through a not whnn r^'' ' """'■ Presently he heard\oices°Lgi ^Vch fnt ^^7"^'^ Of some strange perfume crept In o cC air H advanced nearer; touched a heavy scrten If u^ tap-t^. and listened. Low and subduervoics^'m:: and women, msVine resnnn«,.= f„ „ • , ""'" the chaunt agai„: ^ ^ '"^ ''"S"" voice; and then "Surely a Papist service I" he said "But if ,h to a woman, they still acknowledge the samf^Ja tiS' • KxiXn^rrctfr^j;:^ he had listened to on 1^0! 'f n , "''"T''°" ""'* verified by the wounds or old Lb rt^rr'"^ T" t^ was sorely troubled; yet he fo„„ I m °^^- ^^ 5ua after aiJi. a Par-- -a,- » u ' i . '" '"" --v^t'-nuus; ^i, l-aj , . ,-,, a human being. He had under- f ' - . ^ j 70 TCbe mbitc Mng of /Danoa stood that the parents of Sir Walter Raleigh himself were Roman Catholics. Whether he was inclined to debate the matter further or not, his acute sense of hearing caught what might be the sounds of further pursuit. At all events, he had less to fear from men and women on their knees at the foot of the Cross, than from bloodthirsty bandits; so, feeling his way through the heavy draperies that shut in the little secret chapel, he burst in upon the worshippers. They were four— two women, a prief% and a grey-beard ; the latter rose to his feet, his hand upon his sword ; the priest fled to the protection of the women, who had flung themselves into each other's arms. "Sanctuary!" exclaimed David. "I come in peace, a fugitive from assassins ! " The younger of the women, a pale, shrinking, beautiful creature, unwound her arms from her mother, and fixed her di.ik eyes, with inquiring wonder, upon David; who clutched the heavy curtain of me portiere, as he blinked at the altar, that shone with lights and flowers. " Whence come you ? » asked the old gentleman, who now drew his long velvet clo .k about him, hiding his sword, and pushing back his grey hair. "Speak quickly. Are you pursued?" "Yes," said David; but, noticing the terror with which his answer was received, he added, " not to this sanctuary. I am here by a miracle. Entrapped, I escaped by many wmding ways from a low tavern by Paul's, and fighting my way yonder, beyond the outer chamber of your chapel, the wall opened for me and I was saved." " God be praised ! » said the old man. " There are strange contrivances and secret passages in this old place that we wot not of; that which you cescribe is surely miraculous; if not you shall make us better acquainted with it, when you are strong enough to lead and advise us ; but now you are faint from your wounds." ' *'^l'"l ■urned aside a'nd JSnTZTj,}" '"'^^ '"en,, „« " Vou are a gentleman ""f? "'' " ^'"'"> <=«"«. •'andwewintfuTtyoT"' " P"*^^'' '=°'"'"8 forward, will lr;«5"'''"' °' *« ''""•'-V' said David, "ye. I a ~tVrfe tsVrStr "'^ '^^ '° "* =" -» " My good sisters in C n ^ :^ ' ^h "^ ^' "'••'de it nurse you back to health Tf sh , , " ^°" ^""'' ""^ ^erve, Puritan and cTtholi "sa,d 2 ' "' """ "<> ''°'" caution, "one in the right way .11,^'"'' """ "'P'""""'- wrong; but there is nTZllon r^' T'^^^"'" '" "-e the Good Samaritan is an'easy part oT'''^^ '"'"^^" "^^ of heaven. But we are ,T^'^ ? P'"^' '"'l ''^ Messed more so than yourLrbel'Xi^r ""' '"'^"= ^ by what you regard as most holy never .'' ""', "'" '"^•"- may see or hear in this place or I "2 "- '"'^' ^''" accept our hospitality." ^^ ""'" '" •''■ich you woL'drrcL'f ;:;^^T7 °' ^^ -*«, and by the .wo'Lr^trJyMd tK;";! "^-"•'" -Peated the knight proceeded tolnveltrtethi '""'■ ""'^ P"«^' -^ wall. nvestigate the mystery of the moving Booh III DURHAM HOUSE AND WHITEHALL CHAPTER I THE LOVE STORY OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH AND BESSIE THROCKMORTON DURHAM HOUSE was one of the magnificent old Strand palaces. Its courtyard was as gay with flowers as its gardens. Before even Sir Walter Raleigh graced it with his occupancy it had been endowed with historic dignity. Founded by Anthony de Beck, patriarch of Jerusalem, it was rebuilt by Bishop Hatfield. Of handsome proportions, its turrets and gables out- rivalled the somewhat squat proportions of Whitehall, whose river terraces and pleasure gardens, however, far ' outshone the immediate environment of the Raleigh mansion. . . . The water-gate of Durham House had seen great times and sad. We can only pique the reader's imagination by a passing suggestion of the gay brilliant and reckless character of the times, reflected in its dress and manners, the swagger of the soldier, the polished politeness of the courtier, the picturesqueness of the Queen's meanest subjects, the brave coming and going £\f /irkMA«y<»«fc #i.M^ V..MMMA J^— ^ JX '-^- ^^^ . ' t, - ^ i^i. ^ * * n c i ^ h tl la U as ah sei by La"y Jane Grey We^.u^Z' Th""" '^"^ ''-"^'=' pr<.cl.,,„K.d Queen a, .L Towe a„rt^ i """'"' '" l-^ 1° ^ nfenvards beheaded there tr^h ''T '■""°'^"" » ner proud, haughty and J , T ''" ''"«'»nd and '»"<)' . . . What '' sut of^H ' r'*' No«huml.cr 'engers of the joustin. at vvi "'^ ^"'- "^^ ">« chal- Like all palaces o fhe'!'?'"?'' '" •"° ' " had its grfm and sho!^;'"* '"•* .'"<'««d of all times, purpose, however, ,o ra^se 'the H"- '' '' "« »" Ka'^Jeh may be s^id to Ce exord :d %"? '" ^""^ zenith of his power, when M^T Jj' ''* ""^ « 'he waited upon him, a few d"vs.fn *""""' '^'«^<^''«n ''^en trapped and nearly done f n"" ^••'^'^'"»'» had Trevelion was usTerert , u' '" ^''"'■' ^^'alk. Private roon,, hi t y'of 'h^o -efan"'''"' ''"'^ —an. various stairways and na, ' es !n -K T""""' ™' "^ by 'ving of the houseiTwhtci, hi T'°'""="°«''er„ books and wrote hi! ^em "tudie "k"'''' """ ""^ ^i, over his far-reaching amSn fin '■'"''P'' <=°S"a'ed from one of the ladieTof the r "'"""' "°''=" "■''•« -vi'h a reckless devotion Shi V' "'''° '°^^d bin, opportunity offered, a Whitehall ^Th'^ '"''''^"^^' "ben for her visits to Durham H^' ""^ ^ T"' °'''^'"'- of her maids, a secrecy th^ bo k h' T'"" °' ""= . havmg regard to the Oueen-J „ ?"'^ necessary, 'ude towards love bestow d or n'"/"*^ '^"""'■^*' atfr ^dy than herself with n .he irc^T/" '"' «her Master Trevelion might have Larf t ?' '^°"«- • • • as the heavy curtains of an aS V' »' " P^'t'coat a'-ost at the moment of hiffnirnr ''"' ''"' "'^''' seriouT:>rJ:!l^!?"''= P'«"« 'hat pt^sented it,.,. .„ ... by a confide;;i:r;?:^rofr ot^^ ^-^ '"-o- "»e Queen's guard in his 74 Ube Mbite fkUxQ of riDauoa I gorgeous uniform. On State occasions Raleigl , as the captain, wore a suit of silver armour ; and his daily attire was elaborate to foppishness. It was v»tll there was a threat heart under his vest of pinked silk, and on his shoulders an exceptional head and weighty brain, that neutraUsed what might otherwise have been counted for coxcombry. Moreover, it was the fashion of the day to dress ostenta- tiously and at mighty cost. Her Majesty delighted in fine clothes, and looked to see her ministers and police officials magnificently attired. Master Trcvelion did not pause to take marked note of the appointments of the room or the gay apparel of its owner; but we may pause for a moment to realise the scene. Sir Walter, a commanding figure always, rose from a table 'strewn with manuscripts, plans, drawings, and superbly bound books, and greeted his Exmouth friend. The Queen's favourite stood six feet in his shoes, that were buff, tied with white silk ribbons. He wore a white satin pinked vest, close-sleeved to the wrist, and over the body of it a brown doublet, finely flowered and embroidered with pearls. His belt was of the same colour and ornament, and it carried a jewel' ;d hiked sword. On the other side, over the right hip, oV ' t: led the pommel of a dagger. His white satin trunkt:, o ' reeches, with his stockings and ribbon-garters, were fria^^ed at the ends. He carried his finery with an unconscious grace of strength. His hair was short, his beard neatly trimmed to a point, his moustache [)lain and without curl or twist. There was a steadfast lej'rless expression in his steel grey eyes ; his forehead was white and broad, his lips tirm but not thin, his manner frank, gracious and eager. In hi" presence most men felt his superiority. His enemies, and they were many, held him in fear, and contrived against him secretly. Trevelion-. not lacking in the courage that prompted Raleigh to great deeds, was a man of an entirely different Sit TOaltcr iRnlelsjb an6 »c63lc js kidney; dogged, ', .aiic;,l, overbearing, but of a deep earnesenes,; hating the Spaniards a, teenly as RaleiTh but possessed of a more robust and ,„ ,„Uive faUh in' Ti^'b « ' • ""' "" ^"^ '" "» ">'"^ '"" -»' f" Meth .iTr "' '" ' ■^"''™""''« ^oy. »» ■ • the Primitive Meth,«Ji,t^ ,„ our own ta.,e, talcing the Al.„it;hty into their confidence u, matters o. commerce and trading enterpr Trevehon was atfred in the most sober of russet cloth doublet and trunks of the same, bu, with fine leather 1^ and yet w,th a rufl- someth,,,:; of the , ttem of Sir Walter's .n. a straight sword or rapier, with a Span.sh hilt He had the inanner of one who has other busmen in the world han ,o thmk of what may be the .f a doub et o^the nmmmg „f a vest ; a broad, strong, „.ed face, a squire .hort forehead, a carelessly barberc. oeard that straggled and was grey, and a bullet-head of thick hair-a ma^'o have as a „e„d, and to be wary of as an enemy ; one who talked well, and had a natural gift of oratoryV made to command a sailor and a soldier: and the two were very much combmed in those days of war and adventure I'o" are right welcome, old friend," said Sir Waller takmg h,s visitor's h.nd with a genial grip ; " sit mun down as our Devon lingo hath it." ' "Nay; leifer would I stand for the nonce. Sir Walter for a ghmpse of this view of the noble rive ," Treve on answered, gazmg with admiration upon the sil -nt hXav aTd ::or' '^""^ ^"^ "^ ""^^ °^ -•^"'-"'^ -'^o- I^h^^'k"*'' "P°" ^'^^ "■''=• A June afternoon, when London burnt wood. The sky was as high and blue as .t .s to h,s day m Italy. In the foreground of the opposite hore, hghters filled with hay, wood, and grain brokr he "r - v-'^^-- on cne iimmes. Ihey are almost o« picturesque now as they were then. All' else is so^i'd^ MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 |7J 2.8 1^ 1.4 2.5 I 2.2 2£ 1.8 1.6 ^ x^PPLIED IN/HGE inc 1653 East Main Street Roctiester, New York U609 USA (716) 482 - OMO - Phone (716) 288- 5989 -Fax til ili 76 Ubc TObite Iktng ot /iDanoa prosaic, black, compared with the Tudor day^: of the beautiful river. Like love, any kind of enjoyment comes f)est in couples. Raleigh delighted to have the river appreciated by his old Devon friend, and watched him as Trevelion gazed and smiled and hummed and haahed his approval. Boats of many kinds passed up and down stream ; those going with the slackening tide being mostly content with such way as was made without oar or sail. There were pleasure barges, as stately and as gay as the gilded boats of Venice. Gliding between them, and steering clear of much smaller craft, there were broad-beamed row-boats and wherries filled with pretty ladies, some of them having minstrels in attendance. One boat passed with a party of choristers singing a madrigal. The river was the great highway of London in those days, and in summer it was a holiday stream, through the town, as much as its upper reaches are to-day from Windsor to Henley. There were swans, too, on these town waters, and the river was as bright and clear as the course of a good life. "Tis a fair aspect, truly," said Raleigh, "but will not compare with many rivers you have seen in the Indies, or with our own Dart." " Dart and Exe live in a man's heart. But anchoring in the Thames, a man feels the pulse of the world beating, as 'twere, at his keel; it is what Jerusalem was to the Israelites." "Nay; more like the Tiber to the Romans," said Raleigh quickly. "As they tuned their harps to her war-like music, so we catch our breath at the whisper of Old Thames, and with the badge of Elizabeth in our caps -" "And the love of God in our hearts," interposed Trevelion. tt iir. TTC 3vv A. ^1 i ^1_ ttiLH/Ui; - tMV CQnC[ ucat Kn nic wonu lor ttis gioiy. :^Mir\ Sit TOlalter Kalejflb anb Kessic 77 That is your thought, I know," said i^aleigh. " Well now :o'e;..r;t troafa'^s^'i^ ^'^"-'^ ''-' -^^ «- .J^^^'^C ^i'' ■^'■^^^"''"' seating himself opposite Ralei.h to istr^'the'v"^""^ '"'V^"'" "'' ^-' - "'^-^ ^ to me. Four days agone he left the Sarnt Paul to see he town and bring my commendations to you white when tlml "'"^'^'^^ °' -y -go -d sou/htltt wert in " lo ' !^, '"i"'"""' '°' °"' ~""-'- I fo"nd thou affa" of sL '^""''/■'P"" "^' ""j'-'^'y °» important anairs of State, anc might not therefore care to be A!. rdt;„d° ^ut^r t:r °" '- '-' -'^ ^~'^ 00.0 W,' to"';hf:birarni^bne ifstiriblt"! traced him to Paul's Walk or.A u j ,- "''^"^' '■ trap laid for his inL^:^' i'Z'TI'i.'T^'' ^'l ' dead o Held prisoner, or. perhaps, L^tundeVn "m: wise kZ^\ 1 "" *' """"""^ ^P^' B^««'«'i°. other, wise Kennock, otherwise Clutterbuck ? » "The same." "A mighty service to the State; shalt have whatever aid your «,sdom may reckon of advantage to find ftetd Some fa,r lady perchance, hath lured him away, and w.U let him loose wh.-n his purse is empty " stel'l!^'"'' ^^ ^ '"'""'' '° * °"'°'' ''^""'y in chains of mer knight- hood, and " " God's blood ! " exclaimed Raleigh. " What treason is this?" "Treason!" " Aye 1 Black treason, and scandal most malign." " Why, even that rogue, Kennock, had knowledge of it," said Trevelion. " Knowledge of what ? " " The betrothal of Mistress Bessie Throckmorton to Sir Walter Raleigh." " Curses light upon his lying soul in hell I " said Raleigh. Trevelion had never believed until now that Raleigh could storm and rage and be white with passion. Im- perious, and at times angered, and with fitting words to give tongue to his rage ; but to be beside himself, to blaspheme and storm like a bandit in his cups, 'twas most wonderful. "That I know aught ot Mistress Throckmorton more than of any other lady of the Court ! That she is betrothed to me ! That 'tis the talk of Devon ! That thy cub of Exe comes here to — to — to — what was he to come for ? " -\^.\ Bit 'WHalter miciQb m\t> JBessic 79 Sir Walter strode about the room, vainly endeavouring to resist the fury into which his anger had thrown him. "Mistress Lucy Withycombe is the companion and friend of Mistress Bessie Throckmorton; and -.y cub of the Exe, who hath slain thy foe and the Queen's, was well advised that, if his Lucy had arrived in town, his most emment, wise, and excellent Captain of Her Gracious Majesty's guard would e'en comfort the cub with knowledge of the sweet young lady's lodgings," Trevelion replied, catchmg something of the quarrelsome tone of his enraged host. ^ " By heaven, you do well to mock me, Trevelion ! But neither the slaughter of forty Brentanios, nor the capture of forty galleons piled with plate, could set off the defeat that may come of your blunt assertion. 'Twere betler your passenger should have his quietus, as you fear, than he should have come hither, or gone to Whitehall, with his damned love stories and his message from the dead spy, who could not be more shrewdly avenged." "Sir Walter," said Trevelion, with n r.^e of pity than anger in his voice, "I would have doubted the word of a saint from heaven, had he vouchsafed to describe thee in this mood and manner. 'Tis well I am thy friend ; and I will still give myself that honoured, if not sacred, name, assured there is that behind this frenzy that may give it ustiiication. Be round and honest with me, as becomes thee j or let me say farewell, for never felt I so debased, to think that so great and virtuous a captain could sink to so low a level of poor humanity. "Ah! there you hit the mark, Trevelion," Sir Walter replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. " Be patient with me; 'tis that we are human after all makes us superior to the gods. Heaven forgive me ! Canst keep a secret, the divulging of which may wreck us all ? " " If thou so doubtest me that thou art compelled to ask 8o Ube Mbite mno of /iDaitoa the question-nay, 'fore God keep thy secret, and let me hence," replied Trevelion, with a frown. "Perhaps 'twere better so," said Raleigh. "Come to me again to-morrow at this time ; I have news for you as great as yours to me, but I'm not in the mood. Canst never know how sad is my heart Yet never did the world prosper better with me. . . . Your great pure soul could not understand, were I to tell you what a strange and jealous nature disturbs the great and noble mistress whom we serve Nevertheless, you are man enough to miagme how one may live at odds with a Court ruled by a Vestal Virgin Queen, whom God send all happiness and power and good fortune. . . . Come again to-morrow, and Shalt know more Then we will to our affairs in sober ear>.est But forget what I have said, and pardon my discourtesy; for I love you, Trevelion, and you shall not love me less when you know me truly " Ju ^^^ ^""^^ ' ^° ^^""^ ^" ^^^"« ^'^ open and from Whom no secrets are hid,' have thee in His keeping," said Trevelion, pressing Raleigh's hand. « As for me, if I have seen thy brow clouded for the nonce, I have remembrance of the sunshine of thy heart; be assured always of my loyal friendship." ^ ^ "I am assured," said Raleigh. "Let me show you the way, and provide you with a force shall help to find your passenger; and when found, I would have you bring him straightway to me There is a talisman shall open my door to you at all times;" and whispering a password in Trevehon's ear. Sir Walter accompanied him to a small room at the foot of a short flight of stairs, and there gave command to a soldier on guard to see Master Sidmouth Trevelion armed with authority for the escort and aid he desired, to scour the town in search of David Yarcombe. Then, turning back with slow and measured steps to his • private room, h^ rirA«r fU^ — *_.-_ .t_ . • , . . r , — ,„,„ ..,,^ t,uiiaiii uiac naa rustled at Bit XRHaUcr VlalciQb anb mesic 8i Trevelion's entrance, opened a second door, and whispered : Hessie— Bessie— Bessie, my love ! " In another moment she was in his arms; a woman younger than he, with a round, happy, dimpled face, wide- apart, languishing eyes, rippling wavy hair, and a generous mouth, f-om whence came the ejaculation, "Walter'" " My" dS i" ' '"' '' '^"''"^^^ ^"^^^'^' '^^ -^--> "What's the matter, dear?" she asked, disengaging herself from his embrace and looking into his face. " Why do you ask, my love ? " " Your voice trembled when you did call me." "'Twas with love of you, sweetheart." "And the red has paled from your lips." " I have had news that has fretted me." " It concerns me ? " " How should aught concerning you fret me? " "I know not ; but were it aught else, it would have vanished at my coming." " How well your love soundeth my very step. Nav then listen. We will take sweet counsel together." CHAPTER II TWO queens; one uncrowned " \/"0U are beautiful as you are good, generous as you are ± sweet," said Raleigh, leading her to a seat where the summer sunshine fell upon them. " I seek your counsel." " You love me most when there is most danger of our undomg. We are discovered?" she said, with an eager look of inquiry in her eyes. "It is even so, sweetheart; and methinks 'twere best to throw ourselves at Her Majesty's feet, and ask for grace and pardon." " That were to bring about your ruin, dear love," she answered. " For me, it matters not; I have no father nor mother to grieve, nor any kith and kin, to feel the pinch of what they might conceive to be my disgrace ; but for you, It would e'en be the ruin of all your hopes, the wreck of your ambition." " To blast your dear life and save my own would give me title to perdition. Do not tempt me to be a worse coward than I am, not long ere this to have declared myself openly, and asked the Queen to permit of our union and the Church to bless it." "Dear Walter, my true and gracious lord, I forbid you to risk aught for me. Rather let me retire to some private retreat, and leave you to fulfil your mission, plant your colonies, defend the nation, and retain the smiles and favours of the Queen." 8% Uwo (Queens; i^ne ^iicrownc6 83 "Your devotion makes my love a mercenary passion. I have never known a lie to prosper, nor a liar who was not a coward. It is said, in the Proverbs, that God hateth false lips, and he that speaketh lies shall perish." " But I have heard you say, nevertheless," she answered, "that, while a liar is odious to God, there would be for- giveness for him who might commit himself thus in the extremity of saving life." "Nay, 'twere worthy of a Jesuit to so defend myself, and I weary of slavery to one whose foolish vanity I despise, otherwise doing honour to the greatness of her mind, and the power she hath of putting down her royal foot against the encroachments of our enemies. What shall I do ? Advise me, my own beloved Bess, the only Bess I am ever like to love or esteem ; and yet have I done her the worst disrespect man can contrive against the woman he dotes upon." "I counsel naught but patience, and to maintain the secrecy of our loves. I counsel thee, dear heart, to hold me as a mere flower by the wayside of thy path, to brighten it in a passing moment, but henceforth to blossom, if need be, solitary; unless, perchance, it should one day, in the fulness of time, be meet for thee to pluck it openly and set it in thy bosom, for all the world to see how thou dost prize it." "And I have dared deny possession of this purest, sweetest treasure ever man had ! " he said, leaving *. t side to pace the room. " Judas were not more criminal." " Yet, in argument with Master Stow, I heard you say that Judas had great designs, and would have marshalled Christ to the Imperial throne, and otherwise defend his mistaken zeal," she said, effacing herself with a power of will that her drooping eyes and pout of lip might well "Nay; dost not see how I am continually seeking to I , . f i !|!|, ■111 1i t '* rroc mbite tuna or mnnoa lurther ; let me no longer be a liar " said-h'f 'l" "' "'fl'^down; they count not," she said but offences, such as you would offer to the Queen would bo tares to choke all other good seeds, and— J' with aTiss'"l" l^'j^l '"'""'"■ ^'"PP'^S """ """"h r no le r« ""^"^'^°"" <=""'" 'n^-'h its airy wings a no less prolific seed, that would grow and blab in pnckly thorns of the stings I have pfan.ed in thy fa^J sacrce TL '°""i " "' '°" "'" '■" ^°" ""paralleled self, sacrifice, I have done you a cruel wrong; but I will requite you straight, at all hazards " o"y, '''"' "°'' u "'" '^""^ "' ^ ""' "'="<=h. with the Queens, a vanity that shall be nearer madness. I will 17: " " r' '""' '""' """^^ ^°"-^'f' by -ason of my persecution, my outcry for your love ; nay I will rather make myself the laughing-stock of the Court than an object of pity, and you an easy mark for the shafts of your enemies." "Such is your love, you would risk your soul to spare myd^u^'- ""''^'^ •'"'P'"'^- ^^^- ">""■ ' ""' <'° " Your duty is to grant my every wish, since I have given myself to you, heart and soul, my only regret that myself were not a gift more worthy your acceptance : to humour me, in keeping our secret close, is aU I ask for in rccjujtsl. " Great God, forgive ire ! » he said ; and took her into them™' and vowed that no earthly power should separate Yet hardly had she left him and taken boat to Whitehall, than, hke Peter in the Divine story, he defied her; not n^K f T ' ^"' °"'" ^" ^"^^^ ''' ^°^" ^ith pen and ink, that still exist to taint his memory. But let it be promntlv writ tKoj- :*■ ;„ 4.u_ _ _i_ . .... "^ ^ ■""' ' "^""^ *■- " "^c ""i/ senous blemish on a great isn XTwo (Queens; ®ue ;ancrowiic5 85 name, a blemish that the world easily forgives, and that Heaven in its mercy cannot fail but find outweighed by subsequent penitence and compensation. ... Sir Walter was in desperate straits. At the height of his power with a lofty ambition for his country and civilisation, he knew too well that the conditions of success depended upon his retammg the advantage of the Queen's personal favour and countenance. . . . Never lived a sovereign more lavishly endowed with the meanest arts of women ; nor any queen of better accomplishments for the government of a nation at the most critical period of its history. Strange that Providence should select for His work at such a crisis of the world, firstly, a woman, and secondly, one who, If she were not criminal from the point of view of that which we regard as the highest virtue in a woman and the which the Scriptures most demand, was at least immoral in her thoughts, and moved by a vanity that, outraging the laws of nature, set a premium upon vice rather than an example of virtue. She demanded in the men and women of her Court, a discipline of celibacy as strict as that ordained of the Romish Church for the government of priest and nun. The Queen's love stories, her diplomatic triflings with royal suitors, and her complaisant intercourse with her favourite ministers, had there been a Grammont to chronicle them, might have passed for the pernicious romances of a royal Jezebel. Whether she was belied in her own acts, or maligned by the tales of her enemies and the confessions of her lovers, the Muse of History chooses to doubt; so e'en must we. .he had great qualities, and evil ones; the latter no less characteristic of the age in which she lived, than the fine impulses that made her reign the most romantic in history. Her throne set about with poets, philosophers, warriors, and statesmen, that, for the first time in three hundred odd years, finds its narall,:^! m that of a still greater Sovereign, Victoria, Qu'een of ^lii 1 1 ^B # I lll I 86 TTbc Mbitc -ffUiio ot /iDaiioa T . 3 ill Great Britain and Ireland, and Empress of a mighty world which Elizabeth's mariners never dreamed of when they swept the seas of Spain and planted the first English colonies. If the hand of God is to be noted in all history, shaping the destinies of the world— and Who shall doubt it?— it is not for mortal man to question the Almighty's choice of His instruments; yet Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar, Nero, Napoleon, the Czar Peter, Henry VIII., might well seem pernicious means to great ends ; and in our ignorance we may be pardoned for regretting that there had not been in Elizabeth more of the angel and less of the termagant, more of the nobler attributes of women and less of the serpent that did beguile her. Sir Walter, moved thereto by a mighty design of colonisation, and the knowledge of a vast conspiracy of Spain to overrun England with fire and sword, against which he hoped to be foremost in the Queen's defence, wrote down his own damnotion for the time being, in these words following to Lord Cecil :— " If any such thing as marriage were afoot, and I know not what, I would have impakted it to yourself, before any man Uving; and therefore I pray believe it not, and I beseech you to suppress what you can any such malicious report. For I protest before God, there is none, on the face of the earth, that I would be fastened unto." ... A lie, a , monstrous lie, intended for the Queen ; the lie ' ot diplomacy, an unjustifiable means to a justifiable end, as Raleigh himself regarded it ; a lie bred of the Queen's immoral and unnatural discipline of her Court, that there should be no love-making but hers, and no marriage whatever; an insane vanity. ... But she ruled over England by the grace of God ; and the great world is the better to-day that her days were long in the land. CHAPTER III THE CONFIDENCES AND ANXIPTip-c ^„ QUEEN EUZAliETH ^°"*^ O*" bed, after a butTdly """''"°" """« ""-'^ "P"" "« her legs with an airy abandoa. ' '"""^'"^ "Be wary of Lord Es«:pv » o„-j u being in g.eat favour wm"; O^ en h h7'""' "'■°' to advance Lucy .o a posi o at^^.h^f " '"''"^'' unprecedented in one who h,^ ' ""' somewliat pretensions to royarLognitt ^Xt'ir" ""^ " ""'^ and tlie Queen was nn, if?] . ^'"'>' "^^ beautiful, of her Court so Tong aftlr '°°' '""'^ '" "'^ "°'"- her n,aiden.s.aves a„| aLndrntrTke'k""".^ "'="''^^' " foresworn the dear enZce " '™" ' '™"^^ """^■ b.ushed and the l^tHZZr "''"■" ^"' ^"^ are atit !4tiroth'!;r irnT"- '■- nnr Ki — i _-,_.. . . ^^'icr nere, and shall nnf fr^r-r,^*^ — . r^twvu iCiaiiOnSiup at nr.„ *; M ■••'o^<- any time. 87 ! II Sii ' i i< I lit m 88 tbe TObite fkim ot ^Ibanoa " Dear, sweet Bessie ! " said the other, leaping down to her and kissing her hands; and then, being raised by her cousin, embracing her with girlish fervoui. " I owe you a world of gratitude." " Beware of Essex," repeated Bessie, drawing her close to her side; "and of every other man that pays thee ihe compliment of his eyes or the warmer admiration of his tongue." ♦'Nay; why art so persistent in advice I surely need not?" " I sometimes regret that I brought you hither." "For what fault?" " For no fault of yours ; but for the fault of the times, the unholy atmosphere of this Virgin Court, so called." " Speak no treason, dearest. Lord Essex saith the very cobble-stones have ears in this plotting town." " Lord Essex saith so ; and wherefore ? " Lucy blushed, and stroked Bessie's hair, and said: " Let me undress thee. I will indeed be thy maid to-night and put thee to bed and talk all the whiles; so shall you not distress yourself with unhappy thoughts, for I see you are troubled." "I am anxious about your welfare, my child," said Bessie, submitting to Lucy's assistance in disrobing. "Child!" exclaimed Lucy. "Why, I am not three or four years younger than you, and you look three or four years younger than L" "Flatterer!" said Bessie, with a smile. "Shouldst get on well at Court, if you were a man, Lucy; for a country-bred lassie, as that Scotch lord called thee, thou'rt very apt." " I try to learn," said Lucy. " I saw the Queen's most meek and time-serving slave. Sir Christopher Hatton, pinch your arm as he passed you in the corridor of the Queen's bed-chamber, and was sorry." at tb? Court Of . poet says; must keen thv » ^°" ^°" ""*^''' »^ "-e be undone wt^. '^ °"*"' ''" *»T «"d keen, or knewhrquiclciyrprZ's "Th' ^"'=°'"'''= -^' '^ "^ , I w"l not sa'y a co e^ b„t "Suroe'f ''--^— X. •he toast of Court gallants?" ^ '^^ *""" "°™' "I know not w' at vou inpan » o„-j T with the removal of BessU IL -• '"^' ^"'^'"^ ''^"^'f garments. " Why delrt f vf" '^'"'""^^'^ ""^ "»der- in the bands 0^™; newesT";"''''' ' h-e, perforce, taken • •,;..W'>.^. ">yown^~re:;.C^^'^' °"' ^o--' trepiZ^n." T^ ^.t' a r" f "^'^ "P"^*"' "'* »™« have a slugg.sh nature, that makes for '*sm I i i ! 90 Zbc Mhite mwQ ot /iDanoa flesh, Lucy. . . . Nay, prithee hush ; your ever-active limbs tend to improve your sylph-like figure. ... As for me. . . . But 'tis good of you to be my maid this night ; would I might ever be so tended ! . . . Oh, my dear sweet coz, I am very unhappy ! " She hid her face in Lucy's bosom, and burst into such a passion of sobs and tears that Lucy was greatly alarmed. " What is it, dear friend, beloved cousin, sweet mis- tress?" she exclaimed. " Let me call your maid, indeed." " Not for worlds," Bessie whispered, between her sobs. "I shall be better presently; indeed, I am better already. Heed me not ; 'tis good for the heart when the eyes can weep for it. . . . Give me my smock, and let me to bed ; you shall sit by me and talk awhile. ... Or you shall listen and I will talk, while you undress." "You are unhappy," Lucy answered, assisting her to climb the tall, funereal-looking bed, with it'^. four posts and its heavy hangings that were common in those days. " Most unhappy ; and yet most happy," Bessie replied. It is hardly necessary to say that they slept in the same room ; it had an ante-chamber that was occupied by Mistress Throckmorton's maids, who had, on this night, obtained leave to visit their friend, the housekeeper of Sir Walter Raleigh's other mansion, a pretty country place at Islington recently supplemented by the Queen's gift of Sherborne Castle, a magnificent estate in Dorsetshire. " Whatever you wish, * I am your servant to command,' as the young guardsman seems to be continually saying to everybody ; that is, if you do not weep and make my heart ache, I know not why. . . . What is the matter ? . . . Nay tell me." " I may not, my »ove ; shalt know one day. Alas, alas ! " " * Alas, alas 1 ' " repeated Lucy, leaning over her friendj and kissing her. " Has Sir Walter been unkind?" at tbe Court ot iSlueen ieU3al)ctb 91 "Nay; too kind, too kind," she answered, with a sigh. "When love increases, prudence decreases. Oh, beware, Lucy ; beware ! " "I am your cc .:aante, sweet cousin; and was even so when you did tell me your pretty tale of love by letters writ to Littleham; none shall ever love you better; and yet, you keep something back from me, and weep ? " " You are indeed a very child," Bessie answered. " Shalt know more ere long. . . . There are secrets will out of their own impulse. . . . If I go from Court for a while, will you go with me?" "Whither?" "Perchance to Islington, perchance back agai» to our dear native Devon." " I would be loth to leave Whitehall, but love and duty would make me still your companion ; aye, to the end of the world." "My own dear coz!" said Bessie. And they fell to shedding a few tears, and embracing each other with many " But enough of my lover," said Bessie, after a while ; " let us talk of David Yarcombe. When I bantered you about my Lord Essex, I thought you would have named your own true love and put me off that lordly quarry." " It seems years instead of months that I said farewell to Littleham and I have seen so many strange new faces since David claimed me from my angry mother and timid father, that — -" "You are forgetting what manner of youth he be?" said Bessie, recovering something of her former spirits. "Lucy, Lucy!" "Well, dear heart, at Littleham, and Exmouth, and Topsham, and such-like outlandish and God-forsaken places, a poor girl rarely saw anything in the shape of a jcal gallant, feathers, broidered belt or baldrick, brocaded 9a trbc mmtc mnQ of mama vest, bows of ribbons and bows of mannerly politeneos. and all the rest ; and " "Why, surely, you saw Sir Francis Drake and Sir Walter, and Mastc. Grenville, and other gallant gentlemen when you went to Plymouth?" . "I was but a child then, as you would have me now. and I recollect next to nothing about it. As for Sir i^rancis, he was a plain, honest gentleman, so far as I remember, and-well, of course I remember Sir Walter a picture of all that is lovely ... and yesterday, as it were, there was that treason-rogue. Master Kennock, he wore dandified things and swaggered about, and had jewels on his vest and pearl trimmings to his cloak, and I know not what but he was mean, and lacked manners and " ' " Hast so soon forgotten in defence of whose pure sweet honour David Yarcombe risked his life ? Sir Walter has not forgotten the service he at the same Hme rendered the State, m Kennock or Brentanio or Clutterbuck's taking-off -for Clutterbuck was his real name, nephew to Master Blatchford, the Justice-and tbo Queen herself will surely reward it, if ever she hath opportunity so to do." "Well Her Majesty can soon make opportunity, if she be so disposed ; can she not ? " " Sir Walter tells me that Master Sidmouth Trevelion was to seek you, and give you news of David Yarcombe • have you not seen him ? " ' " He. e ? At Court ? In London ? " " Here," answered Bessie, " here, in London I did you a wrong when I judged you thoughtless to-day, being so light of heart and so willing to be amused by those gad flies of the Court." ^ "What is the matter?" asked Lucy. "Once more I ask ; how many times will you pique my curiosity, and denv Hie f . . . Surely, you do not call Lord Essex a gadfly 1 » ' Ht tbe Court of (Hueen £I(3abetb 93 "Lord Essex is pretty enough for a far better comparison, but David Yarcombe, from all I hear, is worth a thousand such, and not less handsome either." " Oh ! David is well enough," said Ljcy, with a toss of her head. " Well enough ! " exclaimed Bessie, sitting up, and look- ing into her companion's face. " Dear heart, do you know that he is not well at all? that, indeed, he is very sick?" " ^\Tiere ? How ? " asked Lucy quickly. " In London, 'iis believed. Master Sidmouth Trevelion undertook to find you, and make you acquainted with what hath passed since their arrival." " Then he is in London ? " Lucy asked, an anxious tone in her voice that was music to the other. " And hath been, for nigh upon a week." " Well ? " said Lucy. " Go on, sweet mistress, go on." "I said it was not well, dear child." " What has happened to him ? " asked the girl, dropping quietly into a chair at the foot of the bed. " Did you cry because he is hurt ? " " No, dearest ; I cried because I am hurt. ... He left Master Sidmouth Trevelion's ship to present himself before Sir Walter at Durham House, his only object to seek you out. . . . And never since hath he been seen." " Well ? " said Lucy, with trembling lips. " He hath been traced to Paul's Walk, where he was entrapped by villains; thence to a tavern, their thievish " rendezvous. . . . And that is all ; unless there is later news, as well there may be, since Master Trevelion went forth with full authority and an escort to search the town afresh." ** My poor boy ! my ill-starred David ! " said Lucy ; and then sat silent for a long time, only to break out again into simple ejaculations. "The poor lad! the rash, and thoughtless, dear, unhappy boy ! . . , Where is Paul'^ 94 Ubc mhitc m\Q or mmxoa Walk ? ... Was it not enough that he should risk his life for me at Exmouth, but mur,t be entrapped in London? ... How entrapped? ... Is Paul's Walk near "Not far away from Durham House," said Bessie, re- traming from any explanation of the character of that lively promenade. " Knowest not Paul's Church ? » ^JWas he i' the church, when they conspired against " There is a walk through the church, a public way " " How entrapped ? " ^'^'By villains, who live by plundering the unwary." How long is't since ^David arrived in London ? How came he ? Shipped he with Master Trevelion ? " 1^' Ten days ago on board the Saint Pauir " A gallant ship, a brave master, a kindly, bold gentle- man. . . . Dost think aught serious hath happened him ? . . . Can Master Blatchford have avenged the death of his wicked nephew? . . . Methinks Master Blatchford had not much to regret in his taking-off. ... But he is a Papist; and touch them there, they are pitiless, they never forgive My poor devoted, rash David » Letjis nray for him. ... It would break my heart.' And they both prayed that David might be restored to his friends and to Lucy, and ever have God's protection. I he next day, though he came not, nor news of him, Lucy, If a trifle paler than was her wont, seemed to hav^ lost none of her high spirits; though Sir ChristopheJ Ha ton, to one who had praised her, exclaimed upon her, for a pert if country-bred minx," and wondered " how the Queen could give her so much countenance," the more so that "my Lord Essex is known to affect the young person ; but the Queen, renliVd ^h^- ->th-- ^j~.--'i . St tbe Court of Queen iBimhctb 95 gold hair when 'twas not so rich as her own, and dehghted K Z'\ I '"''"'■''"'' ^''^ ^'^'^"^ «f fa>r women that should aid the illusion of a Court of virgin beauty. . . Certain favoured men, who were most close and snug m the sunshine of Elizabeth's smiles, nevertheless, by innuendo spoke treason against Her Majesty's honour since they affected to enjoy more than a platonic intimacy' rather to emphasise their authority and influence than to boast of their conquest. Thus were keen and active jealousies aroused. . . . Rivals intrigued against each other for nrst place in Her Majesty's affections To be her minister, charged with great missions and endowed with financial, as well as official privileges it was necessary to become her lover. ... ' And it must be said for her that she chose her lovers, not alone for their handsome figures and courtly graces, but for their mental and physical capacities as statesmen, soldiers and men of administrative skill ; a strange, great v.oman, the morals of a vestal virgin on her lips, with the manners of a courtesan, whipping up her gown, and tying her garter in the presence of the ambassador of a royal suitor, and even condescending to discuss with the Spanish representative certain scandalous reports regarding her intimacy with Dudley, by showing him the situation of her sleeping apart- ment and that of the favourite. ... ^ & i But this was over twenty years before Raleigh was at the zenith of his power, and Lucy Withycombe had the honour of being introduced to Her Majesty by her favourite maid of honour Mistress Throckmorton, though at ' sixty Elizabeth demanded as much homage and received comphments as florid, and asseverations of love as passionate from Dudleys successors as in her giriish days she had received from Seymour. ... As for Raleigh, he was the least jealous of all the men who strove for mi..h..u>. favour that they might attain to political power and national 96 I I I im> ,-..T t° • • •^' at tbe Court of (Jiueen msabetb 97 W '. ' *"'i.''"= "^^ "«""g 'o have them all at her fee, keeping ,n her heart a place only for David V^rr..Zh I ' love and admiration she most desL ^"'"'"'^'.' "^ose a beautiful .oman winninglveTot^'to ^aX" S':! the shrme of that favoured he who is her Id r K wuhout doubt, was the beautiful Lucy Wycombe 't; >i : in CHAPTER IV ADVENTURER, STATESMAN, DREAMER, LOVER w HAT success?" was Raleigh's greeting, when ^^ Trevehon was ushered into his room the next " Enough to hang a .thread of hope on, but not to run through the maze. Evidence is now complete that the lad was lured to yonder vile tavern in the shadow of Paul's Church, there probably drugged, robbed assuredly and half-stripped, for we have one of the villains tricked out in his doublet and girt with his sword He will admit nothing. It ,s proposed to pinch him ; but none of hat kmd of pressure for me. I have forbidden it. . I d liefer take a man's life than torture him " "Thou'rt in the right. We permit Italy, Spain, and even France, to set the fashion of our doublets and hose but God send, we shall ever draw the h'ne at the investigating methods of the Inquisition." ^ "Amen to that. Sir Walter! . . . But, as I was about to ay, David Yarcombe must have profited by his lesson with he villain Kennock, 'tis evident, for one of the rogues bit the dust ; 'tis thought David, robbed of his doublet and sword, did get away with the dead thief's garment. . . . liut how far he may have gotten, 'tis not disclosed. ... He may be dead; he may only be held prisoner. . . . From — r"' ^' '""^' "'^"''^ "^y ^^^'>' ^ ^^^^"^ '"stinct prompted me to count upon n av^af r.,f»-^ r^- .-•- 98 ^ ' a^ventuvcl^ Statesman, IDrcaincr, Xopcr 99 But fate is fickle, and God's ways mysterious. ... I fear me I must sail without him. ... By your friendly per- mission, I have doubled the searching parties." " B ' heaven, we'll find him, Trevelion, dead or alive 1 Vou shall not sail without him, if God's will be not otherwise fixed." Raleigh had the tact of the diplomatist, as well as the complaisance of true camaraderie. He fell in with the humours and idiosyncrasies of his friends. Trevelion ever put the Almighty in front of his v/ork. Raleigh was a man of broader instincts ; yet he feared God, and in his direst perils humbled himself before Him. " I had said to myself, if there be another Goliath to be slain, this lad is the second David," said Trevelion. " But let us to those affairs of Slate and policy and adventure you do me the honour to invite my counsel upon." "Sit ye down, then, at your ease," said Raleigh, motioning hii friend to a chair, "and give me your best attention. Wouldst care to smoke while I discourse of Guiana and the city of Manoa ? 'Tis a heaven-sent weed ; hath in it a rare essence, to satisfy the stomach and feed the imagination likewise. . . . Nay ; art not yet a convert to the contemplative recreation of the gods ? Well, heaven send thee compensation ! . . . The papers you forwarded to me are valuable, inasmuch as they confirm me in a purpose I did hint something of when last we met." Trevelion nodded, and tucked his sword between his legs and leaned his elbow on the great arm of his chair. " Duplicates of dispatches from one Antonio de Berreo to Philip of Spain, with further notes and details of the city of Manoa. I hope they were not your only booty." "It was a prize that satisfied my crew," Trevelion answered. "A cockle-boat to a Plate fleet, compared with prizes yet in store for all of us," said Raleigh." « An empire to lOO TTbe TObite Kiitfl of /Uanoa 1^ snatched from the clutch of Spain. . . . Much a, «,. r,::«;:rr„f^hrl:.^'^^- - - -S 1 . woria. 1 IS for us to enter Hi» golui / -nazon city, with maidtns fair as Venus and limbed like unto Diana, that have , uilt themselves ramparts of oak, and cedar, and ironwood, against encroachment of vile man. . . . And one telleth of peoples witii eyes in their breasts ; but these things are no more to be believed than the classic tales thou speakest of." "Nay, but by Our Lord, I do not doubt them; nor the sailors turned to swine, nor the Gorgons. 'Tis a ver\ flea- bile iu the opening of the seals, in the Revelations ; but what fears me is that it may be all a plot of the devil." ^^ " ' Plot of the devil 1 ' " said Raleigh, a little impatiently. "Have we not had sufficient exemplar of the riches of Spain, by token of our own varied captures ? I it not her store of gold and silver, her wealth of L^pices, ebony, ivory, crystal, musk, rubies, pearls, that give her domination of the univer:-? He who hath money rules. 'Tjs the same with nations; once we capture her treasure he uses, then we cut her claws, and clip her wings. . . . Doubter] listen to this," he went on, now turning over the leaves of Lopez's "History of the Indies." "Here is sober history, an approved narrative of facts ; it hath reference to the court of Guancapa, ancestor of the Emperor of Guiana. 'All the vessels of his house, table, and kitchen were of gold and silver, and the meanest of silver and copper for strength and hardness of metal. He had, in his ward- robe, statues of gold, which seemed giants ; and figures, in proportion and bigness, of all the beasts, birds, trees, and herbs which the earth bringeth forth ; and of all the fishes that the sea and waters of his kingdom breedeth.' He had also ropes, budgets, chests, and troughs of gold and silver, heaps of billets of gold that seemed wood marked cut to num. Yea, and they say the Incas had '-'} rl ■♦■i 102 it )S i I \ i Zbc Mbite Mm ot /IDanoa ^ a a garden of pleasure, in an island near Puna, where they went to recreate themselves when they would take the air of the sea, which had all kinds of garden-herbs, flowers, and trees of gold and silver — an invention and magnificence till then never seen." " 'Twere of a surety to make the precious metal hateful in English eyes, to exchange the white rose of Devonshire for a silver replica, or a marigold for one of metal ever so rich ; a garden of artificial blooms, for the daisies, the columbines, the lilies, the scented gilliflowers of a Devon valley. A devil's garden, Sir Walter, a devil's garden ! " exclaimed Trevelion. " And you shall help to pack it up as booty for your men and the glorification of the Queen, and to mint into angels and doubloons, and such-Uke, to build churches withal." "With a sprinkling of Anabaptists* conventicles for God's sake, as the ribald call them ; and " "Nay; pardon, Trevelion. I honour thy faith, and am tolerant of every doctrine, except that Popish and profane business of the Wafer, the Immaculate Conception, and the claim of temporal power." "That is three doctrines," said Trevelion; "but let us not mix theology with fable." " Beshrew me, but I fear the one goes with the other. . . . Nay; I will not controvert the matter. . . . Fix your attention upon Guiana ; for you have brought me not the least of encouraging letters, to push my zeal in a direction I have planned out to travel. . . . The dispatches it has been your good fortune to place in my hands are duplicates of papers already, no doubt, in possession of King Philip. They are the latest reports from Antonio de Berreo, Governor of Trinidad, who did annex Guiana in the King's name, containing verification of earlier descriptions of the country, and referring to my good servant. Captain Jacob Whiddon, whom I sent out with instructions to bring me such inde- adventurer, Statesman, S)reainer, Xoper 103 pendent intelligence of Guiana as he might glean in the adjacent seas. Whiddon had already informed me of his investigations. He was fobbed off by de Berreo with reports and rumours and indefinite matters, but could not disguise from Whiddon his anxiety, lest Spain should be anticipated m further explorations of the El Dorado. ... In these letters from de Berreo, he tells the King that one Whiddon, an Englishman, a more simple-minded man than his countrymen generally, hath, nevertheless, penetrated the secret of Manoa, ' so far, indeed, as we have penetrated It,' and that only hitherto by tradition and indirect report. Conversing with this man, de Berreo went on to say that Whiddon, while he smiled, as at a fairy tale, touching what he had heard relating to Manoa, confessed that 'twas evident these seas were rich in treasures, and that Guiana might be all that was accounted thereof; but at the same time de Berreo flattered his own careful policy with the knowledge that certain gold mines already discovered and partly worked in Guiana for Spanish adventurers, were still utterly terra incognita to the Englishman, or any other. . . . And this goes well with Whiddon's record, which you shall read at your leisure ; and, be sure, shall not go unrewarded thereby." "My chiefest reward, as thou knowest, shall be in spoiling the Spaniards. But what wouldst thou. Sir Walter?" " Tis my intention to explore and conquer Guiana for England," said Raleigh, rising to his feet, and striding across the room as if he were already upon the deck of his triumphant ship. " At my own expense, with some assist- ance from the Lord High Admiral and Sir Robert Cecil, I propose to fit out a squadron for Guiana : and I would desire you to join me with the Saint Paul. . . . Nay, listen: it nef'd "'^♦" •"♦■*»»'f^»-^ „.;«.u _. _ — "- tsiiviiviv TT.u* j'sjiir urcstiiik voyage j wc will rendezvous at Trinidad." III! I 104 Zbc mbltc mtng ot /iDanoa Without more ado, terms and conditions were discussed; and Trevelion was about to take his departure, when ^ Raleigh delayed him with a request " more personal than ^ the one you have so manfully complied withal. ... I would now desire of you a favour, for tue love you bear me. . . . Before sunset— let me speak it low in thine ear— I am to be married." " Is't so, in very truth ? " « In very truth," said Sir Walter. « Vd fain keep thy respect and esteem, dear friend; but still more do justice to the bravest and best of women. Speak low. 'Tis most strange, this power of love, dear friend, that it should come between a man and his mightiest ambitions, wreck reputa- tions, ruin states, and 'make cowards of the bravest. I have never felt so meanly of myself since I did open out agamst thee, and I have writ a letter I would give my estates to recall. ... I rely upon your friendship in this ' dear old Sid,' as they call thee in our beloved Devon, where to know Master Sidmouth Trevelion is to honour him." " Command me, Walter," the fine old fellow answered ; "what thou deemest right shall be accounted so by me' I am thy friend, till death— as ever I was, methinks." "I thank thee," said Raleigh, seizing his hand. " This marriage must, perforce, be secret. . . . Until such time as it may with safety be proclaimed. . . . Thou shalt be the witness thereof; none other. Seek me here at the hour of four, when thou Shalt know further. . . . To-morrow Shalt speak with Mistress Lucy Withycombe, at the palace of Whitehall— perchance, with the Queen herself." " 'Twere too much honour for a mere sailorman ; though as a preacher of the Gospel, I humbly look for favour at a mightier throne than that of any earthly power." r "J-^^- ^"^^" ^^^" respect you none the less that your ioiiix is in your sword, and both tend to her glory.*' abfcnturer, Statesman, Dreamer. Xom .oj "But an Anabaptist!" said Trevelion v/iti, , CHAPTER V retrospect; and the clock strikes four THE same faithful heart as ever," said Raleigh, taking up his pipe and seating himself in a cushioned corner of the room, a living picture framed in books ] for the shelves of that favourite nook came down on each side of the seit, so that they were within easy reach of the master's hand. He had dreamt dreams at Hayes Barton, and realised some of them in France and Flanders. He had dreamt dreams here, on the Thames, and they had come true. He had dreamt dreams in company with the silent sages about him, and would carry on the lamp of know- ledge that burnt bright in their pages of travel and philosophic research ; histories of strange and romantic voyages, records of the envied progress of Spain, hints of the marvels of land and sea yet to be discovered by the shepherd of the Ocean for the Mistress of the Seas. As the smoke ascended about the literary treasures in their brave tooled and gilded bindings, their golden clasps and embossed titles, the Queen's favourite watched the diaphanous clouds, and reflected fitfully on the past, the present, and the future. There is a subtle influence in tobacco that induces meditation, and often rewards it with pictures, as clear to the mind's eye as if they were indeed painted tableaux. . . . And what a brilliant past had Raleigh to look back upon I If he could xo6 •Retrospect ant> tbe Clocft Striftes four 107 only have penetrated the future, now that he had reached the ver)^ summit of that wonderful high mountain he had seen in his dreams ; so vast, so full of glaciers and precipices, so fearsome to climb, but so easy at last, when the royal siren put out her hand and whispered! "Come ! "... Let us glance for a moment at the daring pilgrim's ascent of the dangerous heights. A boy at Hayes, with but little family influence; a student at Oxford, undistinguished for his learning; a volunteer in the Huguenot camp of Moncontour; after- wards retreating, under the skilful generalship of Nassau ; at twenty-three, back again in England, with the experience of a man twice his age. . . . Thence he carries his sword into the Netherlands, against the Spaniards, whom he hates with patriotic bitterness. After the battle of Rimenant, he is once more in London, studying for the Bar. Then with his half-brother. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, in an abortive expedition, searching for the North-West Passage. Now he is in Ireland, fighting against the subsi- dised forces of Italy and Spain. For brief periods he is Governor of Munster and Cork. His brilliant and romantic attack on Castle-in-Harsh is only one of many instances of his subtle strategy and splendid daring. . . . Back again in London, he is disputing with Grey and other noblemen before the Privy Council; holding his own all along the line. The Queen is deeply impressed with his gallantry, his daring, his air of authority; and he is further commended to her by an act of picturesque courtesy, that is as familiar a bit of history as the defeat of the Armada. Her Majesty, taking the air, stopped at a plashy place, making some scruple whether to go on or no ; Raleigh, dressed in the gay and j:ostly habit of the times, casts off his new plush CiOa.-v anu spreads it upon ihc ground, whereon the Queen treads gently over. He is soon so well established in the io8 Ube mmc mm ot mama Queen's favour that, upon a window, obvious to Her Majesty's eyes, he writes : " Fain would I climb, yet fear I to fall ; " beneath which Her Majesty writes : " If thy heart fail thee, climb not at all." . . . He makes his way rapidly in the Queen's esteem; is appointed Captain-Yeoman of the Guard, which adds to his growing list of enemies both Essex and Hatton. He is full of schemes of adventure and dreams of colonisation ; sends pioneering expeditions across the seas; lays the foundation of Virginia ; is elected a member of parliament, made a knight, granted all kinds of privileges; becomes rich, fits out costly expeditions for Virginia, is con- tin- i.y making arrangements to sail thither himself, but is prevented by the Qdeen, who will not permit him to risk his life, or for the truer reason that she will not be deprived of his fascinating society and the useful wisdom of his counsel in affairs of State; openly quarrels with Essex, or rather Essex with him : the Queen prevents their meeting on what the French call " the field of honour." A masterful, intellectual, handsome, active gentleman ; his brain teeming with schemes to cripple the power of Spain and build, beyond the seas, a rival English Empire. . . . At the right moment in his career, the oft-repeated cry of " Wolf I " comes true. The Spanish Armada appears in real earnest. A fleet of one hundred and forty enormous ships, crowded with fighting men and arms of the heaviest and deadliest then known, equipped for conquest the most complete, carrying instruments of torture to be used upon the base-born islanders; and with famous and princely commanders, among whom the country had been parcelled out as rewards for their success. This mighty fleet, stretching from one extremity of its line to the other, taking up seven miles of sea, sailing in a crescent formation, is sighted off the island kingdom : arranged as a n prepared to close in upon everyth m 'e> •Retrospect; m\t> tbe Clocft Strides jfour 109 between its two horns, a formation which, three hundred years later, the Zulus adopted on land in their advance upon the successors of the men of Elizabeth. . . . But everybody knows the story; though every history does not record how much Raleigh did to influence the policy of the English defence and attack. He was dead against "grappling." "Fighting loose at large" was his plan. They were " malignant fools," he said, who advised any other. His policy was adopted. Fighting his own ship, he was in the van of the first rush of vessels that dashed in among the astonished galleons. Conspicuous for his intrepid and successful service; he was in the thick of the desperate fight off Gravelines, and fore- most in hunting the enemy into ihe Northern Sea. . . . The Armada defeated, heaven's artillery assisting in its destruction, Raleigh is once more busy with his Virginian Plantation. In spite of every disaster, his hope never wavers; his belief in the British Colony of Virginia is destined, however, only to be justified in future ages— the consummation of a great ambition, which he sees in his mind's eye, as he burns the golden weed, in whose smoke men have seen more wonders than have ever been revealed in the crystal globes of the most renowned magicians. And now, if he has been looking back over his career, as we would fain wist, he is once more in Ireland, and enjoying the society of Spenser, the poet, whose muse is for ever indebted— and we, therefore— to the scenic beauties of the Green Isle and its ingenuous and light- hearted people; whose love it has been hard to win from remembrance of those stormy days, but whose songs io deep into English hearts, that have but one desire- to win their entire and unclouded friendship. . . . At the height of Raleigh's power, one of the sweetest incidents in the lives of fhps^ twn iiincfriV"'' tr^^i;,,! is their coming together in social and friendly intimacy. I in IIO Ubc miMtc Ikina ot /©anoa " The Shepherd of tht? Ocean " undertook to be Spenser's sponsor to "Cynthia" herself; and the Queen received him graciously. AhTiost immediately, the publication of " The Faery Queen " was commenced with an expository letter from " the most humbly affectionate author " to ** the Right Noble and Valorous Walter Raleigh." . . . And now Mephistopheles may be said to come upon the scene, with his vision of beaui/, Bessie Throckmorton, and his magic pictures of the golden city of Manoa. This brief glance at the Ruleigh story brings us back to where we paused. The clocks of Paul's and Whitehall and the timepieces of Durham House are beginning to strike the hour at which Sidmouth Trevelion was bidden to be the one witness of Walter Raleigh's marriage. S^S^^^ii^sSalSngS^Ss^^sr^^f^^^i^t^^isam^^i^aef^^ CHAPTER VI MASTER SIDMOUTH TREVELION OFFERS UP A PRAYER WELCOME, comrade ! " said Raleigh, as the ocean warrior entered the room on the last stroke of the hour. " Hast donned wedding garments ? 'Tis noble in thee ! " Trevelion had simply exchanged his russet doublet and hose for a more state-like texture, and the feather in his hat was fastened by a diamond buckle. "A bit of vanity in honour of the occasion, friend Walter, and in further expectation of a visit to the palace of Whitehall. The master of a ship, moreover, must at times have regard to his attire. 'Tis well to cheer your men with the bravery of an extra feather, and be on terms with one's vile body when called to receive the sword of some Spanish vlon, who has not carried sufficient sail to show his English foe a clean pair of heels, or guns enough to SAveep his enemy from the seas. . . . Shouldst not set my tongue wagging about feathers and such-like trifles, when there is so much of moment afoot." " Come, then," said Raleigh. Laying aside his pipe, and taking up his sword and belt that had lain upon a chair by the table, he c^- ^ucted his friend through a panel-doorway, up steep and winding stairways, and along tortuous passages. ... At length he rinnr naused before a. wide ctii/-1i^£»/^ nolle and crossed with iron hinges. He took a key from his III 113 XTbc mmte luno Of manoa pocket and unlocked the ponderous bolt. . . ?„„,•„, beneath a narrow porchway, they entered L ' ? decorated ehapel. Once, both aTch tecmrlii; rt noiy relics, it had been an ecclesiastical gem • still iLufi Tdtro^ea' ^^"""'^'' "" '"-"' -^-'"S- -^o^e^ „vi" ^T^ ''."''' '" ""'' ''"•''<' ^"^'"^^ o'her than a conven S^/:::reir".tjf '•«''■ "- ---- ~ -:e!t;::t'sttL."Sxr;,- r .?Lr t no glimmer of gewgaws. , nor tinkling o bells tr "!, of psalter and sackbut, nor virginals to beget HisT. Lmio" chapel might dan>p thy ardour and chill thy flm, -^ ™''^ "a7A^ T'' "''' '' *"' ''"' P'-^y^^'" T'^elion replied And the efficacy of prayer is the nr-,v., „ ^piiea. for himself," snid Raleigh ^^ ' """ "'"*'» Sir Walter believed in prayer as manv . before and since hath believed more 7a nlff ■""" himself than an appeal to the rLrle of Grace anoTa h.gh asp.ration. a covenant. God beins «mL T k -«hy, so far as poor human nu.^''ZytZZ ^f y servants o'f their God and their Sovereign He said a word or two for David Yarcombe; concluding with his own heartfelt gratitude for God's blessings 'so abandanUy showered upon himself, and for the continued health and happy sovereignty of His servant, Queen Elizabeth .. na"ve.l th. ""TJ"' "" ^P"^^''' "'^' «>« -"e-ing sane med hvTh '". ' """^"""^^ °' ^^P"""'"" "«^« sanctified by the honest passion of the appellant's faith H.S final outburst was an assurance to God that, even e2d to H- °"" "°' ''''" °" ">^ '"°-"' '° ^i:: regard to His servant, yet would he not despair, nor would he murmur .■Although the fig tree shall not bJsom n« her shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of thHive shal fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock ha 1 be cut oflr from the fold, and there shall be no h d n the stalls; yet will I rejoice in the Lord; I will joy in the God of my salvation." ' '^ "Amen!" said Raleigh'; and "Amen!" was repeated by two other voices in the little chapel, for Mas er the entlred"t ^T ""^f '' ^"' ^'='^^^' Throckmorton had entered the place, unheard and unseen of the two men on *!': ^'"'''. ^'^'S'' '^«f°'« 'he altar, Trevelion on .h" vti*w SiOiics in f centre of the aisle. 9 n4 xcbc mmtc fkUxQ ot /iDaiioa " Bessie, my darling, let me present to you my dear nend S.dmouth Trevelion. preacher, mariner, soldier, and true Devonian." ' "My clear young mistress," said Trevelion. kissing her hand wuh the forn.al grace of a courtier, "I knew your honoured and martyred father. His soul is with the blest. I am well convinced that this union we are about to celebrate in Gods name and in holy fashion of your reformed Church uould have his approval, if he were on the earth. If the spirits of those who are gone before are privileged to min- ister to us here below, he is with us now" J7l^^ ^'"""^ y^""" ^°^^^ ^ ^"^« ^ncl fitting the occasion, s.r Bessie answered. "I would have postponed the joy of ,t until It might have been ventured upon with security ; for should It become known at Court-and secrets mo's profound find echoes there-the Queen cannot fail of a great displeasure, and she hath been lavish of her favours—" Where they have never been so well deserved, my dear young mistress," said Trevelion. "Speak I no the truth, reverend sir ? " * Of a surety," said the benevolent-looking clerk. I fear me I had still permitted policy to prevail over ove, had not my friend, Master Trevelion, convinced me that a man should keep his honour bright as the jewel of woman's faith." •' kXT"''1; ^^°"^ !"" interpose, was gently put aside by Raleigh, who remarked, to Bessie and the clergyman : You have heard him pray, you should hear him pTeach ■ nay, an he be not quite orthodox in the matter of forms and ceremonies, be sure he is of a robust faith, an enemy ^.^ T.r ^r'"' °"' ''^° ^" ^'' °^" ^^^P ^^^ hunt the last of the galleons to the North, and is now arming to spoil him where hitherto he hath been invulnerable, ashore » Nay. friend ; a truce to thy commendations ; bestow them on thy fair bride. I permit myself, being an old m.n /Raster tTrcvcUon mcv& up a pmscr us to say she doth glorify the western home of beautiful women." "You make me blu^^li, sir. I would I had Mistress VVithycombe here to keep me in countenance; for she indeed is more than comely, and takes pleasure in a rightful tribute jf admiration." " Alas, poor David ! " said Trevelion. "Alas, and alas! "Bessie rejoined. "It were well he come quickly, if he would find at Court the girl he left in Devon." "But, my good sweet Bess, and you, dear friends, we are too careless of time. Came we not here to l)e married ? " "Stand you on my right hand," said the clergyman; " you, sweet mistress, ow my left." And they having silently obeyed, Trevelion as representing the congregation, the clergyman, in voice that seemed more in consonance with the ancient building in which they were assembled than the more powerful organ of the Anabaptist, began the marriage service. " Dearly beloved, we are gathered to- gether here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, in- stituted of God in the time of man's innocency." . . And so on, closely following the form of the service as it is observed by the Church to this day; and conclu-'ing with two of the most eloquent and human petitions in the authorised Book of Common Prayer. . . . And man and wife rose from their knees with a deep and holy love in their hearts, and prepared now to meet any fate; yet both conscious that they might soon need the intervention of that Higher Power which Trevelion constantly proclaimed beyond the might of all earthly monarchs. " But we must e'en have you pledge us in a loving-cup," said Raleigh. "Nay, dear wife, lean upon our friend Trevelion, whiles i and Master Arundel lead you the way." ii6 zbc mbitc mm of manoa They did not return to Sir Walter's study, but to what he called the gate-house parlour, a panelled room of oak, with an inglenook, and sofas upholstered in leather and gold brocade, cabinets carved in Holland, the casements glazed with bottle-window-panes that flashed in the setting sun. On the table was spread a dainty feast of fruits and confections, and there were crystal beakers of wine and goblets of gold and silver, and a three-handled lovmg-cup, in which they pledged the bride and vowed themselves to her service. The bride, laying aside for the nonce her cloak and hood, was seen to be arrayed, not in gown and stomacher of pure white as might have become a maiden bride, ,but in a rich robe of sober grey brocade, decorated with shimmering designs in pearls and silver, the bodice embroidered with turquoises set in gold, and cut low, displaying a round full bust; a vision of young matronly loveliness, a di .led face as "healthful fair" as when first it caught the eye and enchained the fancy of the handsomest and most gallant man at Court; but with now a trace of anxiety, fighting 'twixt pink and white, which should hold sway in cheeks that glowed and paled under the influence of deep emotions. From the low, latticed window they could see the river • and while Sir Walter's eyes looked watchfully thitherwards' a barge was rowed to the water-gate, the men in Sir Walter's well-known livery. "Now, my dear Bess," he said, «I commit you to the care of Master Trevelion. There is a coach in the court- yard will convey you under escort back to your duties at Whitehall. My heart is with you as it hath ever been since the first day we met. I take my head to that other Bess, our Queen, with such service of counsel and strategy as she may require of it." " Dear heart, be wary," said Bessie. « I pray heaven this day I may not have brought you within touch of peril" *" /IDastei* Urevelion OUcvs up a ipvaijer ny " Would to God I had the courage to take you to the foot of the throne and say : ' May it please your Majesty, this is my wife ! ' " "And why not, in heaven's name ?" burst out Trevelion. " Where should be the peril ? And if there lie danger in such a course, why, surely 'twere best to face it and " " Nay, nay, dear friend," said Bessie, her hand upon Trevelion's arm, " you know not what you say ; the thing we have done is treason in the sight of Her Majesty." "Then what calleth Her Majesty virtue?" Trevelion asked. " To love none other than herself," said Master Arundel, " and in her honour to live celibate." "Dear friends, pursue this matter no further, for my sake, for the sake of your great ambitions for our dear England; trust me I am right in this desire." "Let be as my wife doth will it," said Raleigh, with special emphasis on the word wife as he took her face between his strong hands and kissed her on both cheeks. " Thou'rt a brave, good soul," said Trevelion. " There be uncrowned queens and they that wear the diadem ; and trust me, my Lady Raleigh, thou hast no truer subject than Sidmouth TreveHon." "Nor more devoted friend than your servant John Arundel," said the clergyman, and with that Bessie Raleigh found it a hard matter to keep back her tears. " Dear friends, I thank you with all my heart," said Raleigh. " Come what may, the Church, dear Bess, hath blessed our union, the stars are propitious, and steel is not stronger than the bonds of love and friendship that bind Trevelion to both you and me. In that triple love be sure we both may count on Master Arundel." "That may you so indeed. Sir Walter. And God prosper all of us as we shall best deserve His fatherly care I " ii8 tlbe TOblte Mng of /IDanoa "Amen ! " said Treyelion. Sir'vvT'"' .mI"' """ "«''"' """^ "''" "ght soon," said Sr Walter "We travel to the same place by different Hho^M t T ''"" ''"^ °"' '^'■°'«= '"' °" desire that .t should be known, then we shall hope to accept the mevitable, trusting in God!" .iiJ'^* ^°'l^"u '"'""' °' ^ ™'"'"" '""^^ burnished the gUded coach that lumbered along the Strand to Whitehall • not the Strand of to-day, or anything like it; a rough htghway with a few timbered houses and shops on one sKie, field and forest in the distance, and on the banks of «ntrZ r T '"'\^'^^"'' ^' Charing Cross, now the central pulse of a m.ghty Empire, a village-the village of Channg-with the scent of burnt wood in the airf the breath of cows, the varying sounds of rural life .: and a little Whi,ehaira,!d'w^ '°'"« '° """^ '™' ^'^ ^"'P^g" '<>' Whitehall and Westmmster, soldiers in shining cuirasses carrying cumbersome arquebuses, footmen with helmets and pikes, royal carriages drawn by white steeds with outriders and trumpeters in tabards and bedizened jerkins troopers in coats of mail. . . . The river was the other highway to Whitehall on the one hand and to Paul's on the other; farther still, to Hampton Court on the one hand, and farther still to Greenwich and the sea on the other. . . . Silent high 3 'rf Tri" '°''^ "** "^"^ ''^'hed m sunshine. J and alike decked with picturesque signs of wealth. In l^hfu T' """ "'^ 'P'"^ '^l''"'^'. ^on'ething that might have been a quivering of the romance tha^ was m evidence all about; romance of love and adventure rorjiance of soldiering and sailoring. romance of Cour; jealousies and intrigues of proud lords and ladies ; and over »", a Queen who might have belonged to some strange and fascinating fairv tni. .„ <:_i.i. ,^ , , . .. . ~*"= ° - — -• — , oo ii.,inc, lunu ana laiiuiui Her /Dastcr Uvcvclion ©fters up a prater 119 Majesty, with love o fine gowns and gay pageantry the pleasures of her Court made the fiercer by the gaunt figure of tragedy, that now and then appeared among the dancers, the grim trophies on London Bridge, between Whitehall and the Tower, marking the perils that lurked m the flowery paths of dalliance and the thorny ways of ambition. CHAPTER VII 1^ M AN INTERLUDE 'T'HE crushing defeat of the Armada, though it placed 1 England in a position of security and independence, neither contented the ambition of the victors nor dispelled the illusion of the Spanish King. It stimulated both to further endeavour. Englishmen, now more than ever confident in their superior seamanship and valour, were bent on a further crippling of Spain before she could sufficiently recover from her great disaster and resume the o^^nsive ; while almost every English merchantman that sailed the seas sought to combine trading with the capture of Spanish ships. Whaling captains even made agreements With their owners that the capture of Spanish ships or the plunder of Spanish towns should be their first endeavour und whaling a last resource. " Let your first news be the taking of your first prize," was the parting injunction of a whaling owner to his captain ; " I'd liefer you loaded with gold and spices and pearls, and silver plate and rare wines, than bring me the best cargo of oil ever shipped ; moreover' we owe it to Her gracious Majesty to hit the Spaniard whenever he shows hie nose." So the whalers and the merchant ships made whaling and trading a secondary business, and Queen Elizabeth and her island subjects spread their nets in every sea and assailed the Spanish flag wherever they could attack it ashore. _...,....,, ,,,..^.^ „^,- y^ piracy ana war, the pioneers of zao an 5ntedu&e 121 new worlds struck inland, planted the first colonies, and laid in the foundations of the British Empire. Spain denounced them all for bandits and marauders; but when war's afoot, the bandit, carrying his nation's flag! ' becomes a patriotic warrior. Moreover, even when we were at peace with Spain she laid hands upon our people in her ports, persecuted them on account of their religion and burnt many as heretics. It was hard to know when It was peace or war with such a nation until after our Scottish King James had murdered Sir Walter Raleigh his best and bravest subject, to win the favour of the Spanish tyrant from whose clutches the martyr had never spared himself to save his Queen and country. It was not for gain alone that the English ships and adventurers carried their lives in their hands and tackled the enemy whatever the odds against them. They had mighty wrongs to avenge; comrades languishing in Spanish dungeons, and other victims burnt at the stake in Spanish market-places. Constituting themselves emissaries of vengeance, they were also the advance-guard of a new empire. Raleigh, who aided them with his purse and backed them with his influence, believed that the best way to cripple the universal enemy was to seize the sources of his treasure, found rival states, and make common caust with the dusky victims of his conquests. The natural pride of the English seaman was engaged m all this, and it had an impulse in the fanatical spirit of the Reformation. The memory of St. Bartholomew had not died out, and the national resentment was further excited by the discovery on board the ships of the Armada of ghastly instruments, which were intended to tear the flesh and otherwise mutilate the bodies of the "English Lutheran dogs." So the impulses that filled the sails and strengthened the arms of the English adventurers were numerous as they were potential ; and at the head of the rftli. T22 Ubc Mbite mm of mmxoa nation was a Queen willing to give every possible encourage ■ ment to those of her subjects who might be ready, at their own charges, to undertake the humiliation of the enemy At the same time she had a theory which, if England were pressed to-day by foreign foes, would be readily accepted ; It was that the nation and she had one purse. If she shared the plunder, she did not hoard her gains ; except m a sort of miserly accumulation of jewellery and fine clothes. For a great Queen, she had as many vices as virtues • Happily, she never lacked great men at her councils ; and It was easy for some of them to play the part of her lovers, thus pandering to a very pitiful ambition, by whic... however, she m'ay be said to have evidenced that superiority of man over woman so much denied in our day, but so hotly insisted upon throughout all Nature It is as If a satirical devil had been permitted to have a hand m the management of that brilliant stage of the English Court, so tricked out the actors with feathers and furbelows, with garments that mocked the peacock, and struttings that caricatured the turkey ; and all because a great Queen must be pulled down to the level of ordinary humanity, by a cheap vainglory of feminine conquest. This was, however, better than the rival Court of Spain, that was so puffed up with pride that it spent its days in bowing and scraping, and inventing ceremonials of etiquette and a Holy Office, so-called, for the aggrandisement of the Church and the entertainment of fiends while her generals ^'^nt about enslaving the unsophisticated peoples of newly discovered lands. Nor were the English free from the olot of slave-dealing, though in time they made amends. it ever a nation can make full atonement for such a crime England has done it in many a sacrifice of men and money! Her once bitter enemy, continuing in her evil courses to t„.s day, IS now paying for the same at the hands of the an 3nterlu^c 123 very country which her Columbus discovered and which only within recent years has won the right to unbar the chains of Cuba and the Philippines. Spain, God knows, has many gracious qualities— what people has not?_but she can never have freedom for honest development so long as the pall of an enslaving superstition clouds her brain and checks the free and whole- some beat of her heart. Her ecclesiastical policy is a different thing Trom that of her English co-religionists. They say Catholicism is one and the same everywhere • It is assuredly not so. The Howards and other great Catholic families lavished their wealth and fought like heroes against the Catholic Armada ; and the Catholics of the United States met in their thousands and supported the action of the American Government in their recent rescuL f oppressed Cubans from the Catholic Government of Spain. Catholicism has its virtuous and beautiful side, and Its high-minded and generous devotees ; but it allows an awful margin for persecution and tyranny, and in power IS invariably arrogant, tyrannical, and cruel. CHAPTER VIII David's papist angel THESE things, this Court, these adventures, this picturesque period, in which the sun of Spain began to set and that of England to rise, represent httle more than the background of the history of David Yarcombe • and one has to make an effort to realise this, ivhen conspicuous individuah'ties of the time might well call for more ample recognition. If we let them pass, shadow-like across these pages, it is not for lack of appreciation of their greatness, but that we are dealing with adventures hitherto unrecorded, while familiar history teems with the lives and works of rival celebrities. They are none the less martyrs who sacrifice themselves, whether the altar of their devotion be Lutheran or Catholic. There are hearts as pure and noble in one faith as the- other. David Yarcombe learned the most beautiful lesson of his life m the home of those secret worshippers who sheltered and nursed him in his direst need, knowing well that he was at enmity with their faith and had denounced their Church as the Scarlet Lady ; for in his delirium he said many things that proved him to be the bitter enemy of their religion, and, so far as the priest himself was concerned, the uncompromising foe of his country. The priest was a Spaniard. Nevertheless these oeoole haH tPn^^^r? k,-^. «.,^ j over him as if he had been their dearest friend and 124 Da\)f6's papfflt UnQcl las "brother in God." He had suffered from a fever, that without skilful attendance and careful nursing might have pr jved quite as deadly as the assassin's murderous knife. " What a strange dream I " he said to himself one morning when he appeared to nave been awakened by the singing of a linnet. Of course he was dreaming— a dream within a dream, he thought, in a vague, speculative way. He was in a room that he had certainly never seen before, except in his dreams, and then only in a kind of hopeful imagery. It was plain enough now, at all events. He sat up and looked around him. He was in a strange bed; there was no mistake about that. The linnet was not singing in the copse behind Lucy Withycombe's home at Little- ham; it was in a cage, at the window of a whitewashed room, the cleanliness of which was refreshing. The window was open, and between the half-drawn curtains, beyond the wooden cage, whose liltle occupant was making the welkin ring, he could see the sun shining on thatched and red-tiled roofs. Upon the wall, opposite the foot of his bed, a crucifix hung and a picture of Jerusalem. Beneath the window was a large oaken coffer, with carved front and lid. A small table stood by the bed. There was a bunch of roses, a small chased silver cup, and a medicine bottle upon it. Two high-backed chairs, with silken cushions, completed the furnishing of the room. . . . "Yes, I must be dreaming," he said to himself. The illusion was not dispelled when the door opened and there entered an angel, nothing of lesser mould; a halo of raven hair, a gown soft as angelic wings, a footstep that made no sound. . . . And a voice that was music. . . . "Yju are better," it said; "your God is good to you, and ours, by divine intercession, has heard our prayers." X.XJ o — ij s\ eyes. 2L3 . Yes, it was a dream. . . . song was not of this earth. . It is well," the voice said The linnet seemed . . He closed his ; "you must no^ i 136 Vbc Wbitc Hins of /Banoa sa.. J No„ .o„ Have on,V.o JL^Z Ten-r'; f^^ Am Idreaminjr?" he askod nnH kjc • ^ '* ' * • him like an ppK^ ^^ 7 ' ^ "'^ ^^'"^^ sounded to "No tiT ; f '"^ r '"' " ^^'^P^^ "^^ his own. No, t IS not a dream," she answered. He looked at her again « Mr^f o ^ « > ., . " Then I am in heavenT" '^'''"" ' ''' ""'^■ She smiled. It „as no angel ; yet she might have been cheeks were holIo7; L eveT-maHf f "'"'T "" but When She smiled W"orena„Tet:''::rT::;: sion ,s everythmg; and when it is the interpretation oT. How beautiful you are ! " he said mereW ^"heffit^ '"""' "" "" ^"^"^'^ '° -8-^ "- =ran?tLt:;roH"^^ sword she h.H .1 r . engraven upon his alien sword she had confessed to herself that she loved him ihVsar'isr^'r'^^ ^"^''^"- • • • "^° ^-' -S; sage, ,s to make a compact with sorrow." rsi'i CHAPTER IX "when shall we three meet AOAIN?" A STARLIGHT night in July. The hour late. Few X-1. lights on the river or its banks. A dog barking on board a hghter, that is moored on the Southwark side of the stream, ,s answered by another ashore. The air is heavy with the perfume of flowers from the several Strand palaces that have gardens, only separated from the river by partial embankments and handsome water-gates A night for thieves and lovers, so still is it, so dark; a night full of shadows, which the stars seem to be watching. Between the Savoy and Durha,,, House there were prrvate ways, seemingly to each and also to the river as mdeed there were to other houses, though known to few besides their owners. Durham House was not a little mysterious. On its Strand front, almost impinging on it, courtyard or quadrangle, it had a cluster of thatched stables, p,c:.iresque enough no doubt to the modem imagination, but incongruous when compared with the noble fasade and its magnificent marble columns by the river side of the main building. The palace seemed, on the night in question, unguarded hough houses in those days were locked and bailed and bol ed, and had ponderous shutters. A suspicious company of three cloaked and armed men had spent some hou,; m reconnoitring Durham House and its various approaches. They had no need of cloaks, except in the wav of dis.m«„= - o — ' J 127 i>3 ^bc mute fjittfl Of /canoa towards Ludgate w^h ;k ?"* "'""^ "■* Stran" ",n^ ''""ga'e, with their occasional cry of the hour and a starht night." They shouldered their hall^l and swung their lanterns with an air of braver^ bntl^t sTm r th° T"'' "''''"' '^y depreda"r;ho JS Ss Th''r"/""'''"=' " ™' '^ obstructed in^e^r fn h J7. '"^ """S*" " g'™P'« °f 'he three cloaked and hooded figures disappearing in a by-way toTvards thf nver, the.r swords bulging out their cloaks ; buTt^v ^d not seek to question them. ' ^ °"' Alone? Art sure ?"a.sked the second one Aone a„d cl,erefore unattended," replied the first. the tL ' '''"""^"'^' " " '"'"' f-"> VVhitehall," said thili" "" '""' °' "■■«•"' Go '0. "y lad; he-s abed ere "There's been no light in his turret-room since sunset Tretr^nr-hiVh r ' r '"^ "'^ ~ -t b.„g th hi. iz t ScrihfCrL^:,^ "" Then let's to the riveV said the first speaker "Tis .ke enough he come.h ft. m Whitehall ; Her Maiestv ■ns a lively lady. 'Z^^JZ^i:^;^ ^^^'^^^^ ;:* if :f :'«'^^,^— » ^ow to d^eSti^^h r^h t rot Of fertoS" ''•='"''*' '^"-^'^ "''-•>« "mbcn Sball tlClc XTbrcc /ICicct Boafn?" 1,9 They spoke in whispers, though there was none to overhear them, ensconced as they were in a stone niche of an outer wall, that commanded certain orivate ways both to the Savoy and the house they were watching. They had evidently become a little weary of the business upon which they were engaged; and their employers, whomsoever they may have been, it would seem were not a little discouraged. " Tis the tenth night of our campaign," said the first ruffian ; whom, now that one comes to closer quarters, one finds to be the villain we called " the host," who trapped David Yarcombe ; the other two evidently men of the same band. "The host," on this occasion, however, was engaged in a more serious fashion than playing the pretended part of the helpful friend and philanthropist. " Mind you, comrades," he said, " this is no affair of purses or papers ; 'tis the traitor's life, so long a-doing that, lest the plan of campaign be dulled in your memories,' bethink you ; 'tis an immediate onslaught, no parleying! no accommodation. We have been handsomely paid, aud,' the deed accomplished, there is more ready stored for our taking— in all, a fortune." " And he is a traitor ? " remarked the third i uffian, more by way of aing m the whispered conversation than to satisfy himself on a questionable point. "A damned black traitor, who engrosses for himself all the Queen's patronage and love and what not. Hush ! be wary. I hear the plash of oars. Come." They crept within the shadow of high walls and over- hanging gables, to reappear presently close by the water- gate of Durham House. But the plash of oars simply indicated a departing boat, a wherry that was making for the opposite bank of the river. " He has escaped us again I " said the seGond ruffian, with an oath. tjo XTbc mmte mno of ^anoa f ea J att; S o^ T^ e^' .."re ^"'' f '' the Palace. Follow me " ''°"'^' ^'^"^ head-gardener for .'h'T r^ll 0^:^: b If ' '^ '"^ flowers and shrubs from florists whV.^ f "^"^'"'^ other rare p.an.s or Z^rn'tl'^Z^'X T"' T" ied he;^'Loter;e f """ '° "'^ ~"'-<'- -^ r<:ts":^9SrS^^^^^^ =11 hour, being, as .hey "^^ ,1 a „Tan ^^ "' "' and therefore dangerous to th^ vj,l? ^ '"''^'^'J'' to Holy Church and R !.t f' ^"'^ '"°''" Particularly the staL of tl^"i;;.gi".' t;'::\';;^"°'"-'-fi^ide another figure besiri,..,! * '^'"^ "'°'"ent or failure Th. f .u L ' ^ '" ''^'^ °^ ^"ccess " Good-niirht » nf th. \ r ^^^"'"^^ ^he respectful ri -=' . . . ificn, uiiiocking the door **mbcn Sball mc Zbvcc meet UQainr 131 of the water-gate, he took from a niche of the inner wall a torch that had been placed there for his use, and entered the broad walk leading to the garden entrance of the house Pausing suddenly, however, he raised the torch, and at the same moment drew his sword; well advised, more by instinct than the rustle he fancied he heard among the shrubs. ^ "Traitor!" exclaimed the first rufifian. rushing upon him. "Have at you!" ^ ^ "And at you!" was the quick retort, with the torch thrust full in the villain's face ; who falling back with a howl, the other two came on. "Who has set you on to this?" the assailed one asked as he fenced with the attacking swords, a master of the art. u-.iV^''".'?'''^^^' ""^^ •' " '^'^ ^^^ ^''^ ^"«5^"- " Kill him, kill him ! " ' For a moment it seemed as if they might succeed : for they pressed their opponent with alertness and vigour one of them edging to take him in the rear; at which the first ruffian, more or less /lors de combat, staggered to their assistance with the torch, bent on a repetition of his opponent's tactics. But now he had to count upon a hostile reinforcement. " Villain ! " cried the new-comer, striking him down with a stunning blow of his fist, and making for the others shouting, « A rescue, sir ! A rescue ! " He was only just in time to catch the blade of the third ruffian, and run his own clean into his misbegotten carcass. 1 hereupon the second ruffian fled. " The host " began to gather himself together, and the torch was extinguished. Vield, ruffian, you are my prisoner!" said the new- comer, reaching out his hand to seize him ; an indiscreet action, which nearly cost him his itY« tu •„ „ _. him by the wnst, and was only prevented from plunging a '3a Zbc mbitc mm ot mmoa dagger into his breast by a ready thrust from the sword of the rescued gentleman. " The host " fell back with a groan. " Who set you on ? " he was asked. reply^' ' ^""^^ ^"^ ^^ ^^''S'"""' "^^ Lord Essex," was the " On your oath ! And at death's door you lie ! " ;;Nay, as you please, I'm sped," said the villain. Take the recollection of my face with thee to the other world, said the new-comer. " Canst see me ? " fZ^^l' ''°"^l' ""' "°''" '"^^ '^' ^y^"g t^^^f^ "violent trades have violent endings. Farewell i » "A brave ruffian, I'll warrant you," said the gentleman turning over the body of the one who was first to fall'- while hghts began to flash in the windows of the house and servants to appear on the scene with torches 1^' Bestow these bodies conveniently, and. call the watch » f.r.^ ''°''' ^°?^ '''~^''' '^°"S^ ^ ^^" barely see your face there is youth m the tone of your voice-to whom am I indebted for my life ? " "Nay; I think with such swordsrianship you would Ime done their business without me," was the modest ''But for you I had been a dead man this moment, I make no doubt : and I have had experience of ambuscades and villainies of all kinds." ^ ;; My name is David Yarcombe," said th. young fellow. David Yarcombe, well met 1 I am Sir Walter Raleigh " was the reply. ** * "My lord!" exclaimed David. hand^'-r'"'"'" '""'"'"' '" ^'''''^ *^^^"g I^^vid's nana. Come, you must let me be your host " " \ ^"" beholden to you, Sir Walter. 'Tis strange to pass from yonder host to your gracious hospitality ; but the rogue, whose life has gone out with th. L.u -' — — — .,,.,^.j^. a:^ "mbcn SbaU TOc Ubree meet a^afn?" 133 himself my host when I was sorely pressed— and I owed him payment for the same." "Then, surely, 'twas he who lured you to the tavern where Master Trevelion found traces of your adventure ? . . . Nay, we will speak of it later. As for the hospitality of Durham House, you have paid for that in advance Nevertheless, ere bedtime you shall tell me how you came to be m my gardens without an invitation. Have voa supped ? " ^ " Only on sorrow; for I have lost that same dear friend, Master Trevelion." ' "And found another dear friend, whom you shall never lose." Sir Walter drew his companion's arm within his own • and, through a group of lackeys, some of them half-dressed' all greatly excited, they entered the house. m V CHAPTER X DAVID YARCOMBE IS INTRODUCED TO QUEEN ELIZABETH TPVAVID iieeded all his fortitude and presence of mind ^ to maintain his self- composure in presence of the lords and ladies, the officials, courtiers and guards, who seemed to throng the courtyard, halls and ante-rooms through which Sir Walter Raleigh made his way to the Queen's Privy Chamber, with the modest bearing of one who escorted a friend and the dignity of one in high authority. ^ The Queen's favourite was greeted with much show of courtesy, but with few cordial smiles. Raleigh was too accomplished, too learned, too powerful, to have many friends. Except by the soldiers and sailors whom he had commanded, few men loved him. He towered above his contemporaries in the splendour of his ambitions. He left It for posterity to estimate his character aright, and posterity has done him justice. They passed through courtyards, along rush-strewn passage-ways, by rows of governmental offices, until by a private door they entered a low covered gallery, that gave upon the great hall or presence chamber, and opened in the midst of a scene that to David was as novel as it was impressive. Barons, earls, knights of the Garter, men of illustrious descent, weighty councillors, butterflies of the Court, a mixture of littleness and greatness, littleness none the less splendidly attired. Way was made for Sir Walter. He bowed himself throueh the cxn^^ • onrj r,«;«»;. lU mm te SntroOuceb to Quccu ffilisabctb 135 a pillar near an adjacent doorway sentinelled by Yeomen of the Guard in their scarlet and gold uniforms, said to David, Await me here; the Queen shall send for you." David had rarely felt more embarrassed. He found himself not simply alone-that he could have endured with patience-but the object of what appeared to him to be a scornful curiosity. This pu^ded him at first, and then angeied him. He would have given anything to have provided one of the younger lords with an excuse and had led to a challenge. It vexed him the more, when he reflected that it was among this splendid rabble that Lucy had no doubt found many admirers ; one, as he knew more forward than the rest-my lord Essex. He had begun by hating Essex through the confession of the bravo who had attempted the life of Sir Walter; and his dislike wa5 intensified by Lucys own admission that Lord Essex had paid her particular attention, which she Srn '°, '"^"u ^ " ^°"'Pl™^»' from ^o great a lord, while David, with his country ideas, looked upon it as more in the nature of an insult. It was one of Lucy's boasts that she was treated with high consideration by the most notable gentlemen of the Court. She did not thereby desire to arouse David's jealousy, but to enhance his estimate of her personal attractions. It was unfortunate that Lucy did not understand David, any more than David rightly understood her. Presently when he was beginning to feel a trifle less df-conscious of his fine clothes, an oflicer from the I nvy Chamber beckoned David tc follow him; whereat severa of the younger lords smiled, as he thought, dis- dainmlly. He would have liked to whip out his weapon and demand why they smiled ; for, from a quiet, student- Le - ■ .' •"«", ^^^ iiiiu, iiii in a very short time become, if in a polite way, something of a swashbuckler. I a I 136 xrbe Mbite fklng ot /lOanoa Not that he invited quarrels ; but he was not averse to them, ever ready on reasonable provocation to use his weapon. His encounter with Kennock, as we have seen, had made a man of him in regard to the fighting charac- teristics of the day. The theorist and reveller in the romances of others had become an adventurer in practice. He was an attractive-looking youngster, with a swing in his gait that aigued self-reliance. Added to a lithe, well- knit figure, he had a quiet if watchful eye ; but there was an expression in his face that was sad and thoughtful beyond his years. He wore his brocaded doublet and velvet jerkin, and carried his hat and plume with an air that might have become the descendant of the most ancient barony in the land. * In Her Majesty's Privy Chamber, the Queen was attended by a bevy of beautiful women, and man> gallant gentlemen. If the courtiers had taken the cue of Nature in their radiant attire, disporting the liveliest colours, the ladies had not modelled their stomachers and gowns and head-dresses upon the fashion of the female bird. They were even gayer in colour and noisier in rustle of silks end tinkling of jewels than their supposed lords and masters. As for the Queen, she was a dazzling example of splendidly disguised humanity. In spite of what to-day would be considered a burlesque of costume that- might become a stage pantomime. Her Majesty was a dignified I figure stately and majestic. It was wonderful that, con- sulting her mirror, she could still endure the flatteries of her favourites, who compared her beauty to Diana and Venus. She had a small hooked nose, wrinkled cheeks and forehead, and thin lips ; yet there was often a pleasant expression in her eyes, and she had a winning smile. When she was merely the Princess Elizabeth she must have been almost beautiful, certainly fascinating in every way, the charm of which she had H)at)i5 10 JntroMiccb to (ftueen misahctb 137 not entirely lost when David Yarconibe knelt before her lier dress was a marvellous invention, adorned with the most lovely gems. She wore red hair; in her ears were massive pearl-drops; on her head a small crown of gold : about her neck a collar of the same precious metal, enriched with many flashmg stones; a white silk dress, bordered and otherwise ornamented with pearls. Her bosom was bare her stomacher of abnormal length. Her ladies were ali in white silks and satins; some of them standing by her semi-throne, others grouped apart, who furtively held cold converse with my lord Essex, Hatton, and others; while vL^^Ti""'! '"^'^'^ ^" ^ P'^""^^ conversation with Sir Walter Raleigh, which was interrupted by the entrance Yarcombe ^^^"^^^'^^^^^ preceding Master David David had been well instructed. He saw no one but Her Majesty, and was down upon his knee at her feet the moment she had intimated her desire to speak with him. Ihe Queen, looking him all over with her small piercing eyes, ungloved her righ. hand-a great mark of f^ou;- jewelled fingers with his lips, and looked up at her with a blush that might have been a woman's, for it was almost at once eclipsed with a pallor that the Queen mi^ht well attribute to the impression of her beauty upon In unTo phisticated youth. ^ ° " Our good servant and friend, Sir Walter Raleigh, hath acquainted us with your prowess and gallant conduct." David listened with rapt attention. " To have rid us of a disloyal, fanatic knave, and saved a ife we treasure next our own she said, pausing to look round at Raleigh. ^ ^ '; Most gracious, most beloved Queen ! » said Raleigh wiin Dowea iicad and reverent action. " ' " Nay, 'tis true," she said. " The Queen of England T38 Zbc Mbite Mng of (Kiimoa service; and we thank you. knows how to value true Arise, Master Yarcombe." David arose, and would have withdrawn, but the Queen signified that he should remain. " You are of Devonshire ?" " Yes, your Majesty." "The Yarcombes are of an ancient family, I am informed." " One of my ancestors fought at Agincourt, your Majesty; otherwise we are yeomen," "And Shalt be a Yeoman of the Guard, eh, Captain Raleigh ? What say you ? " " 'Tis an honour he shall be worthy of, your Majesty." "He hath the figure for it," he said, with a smile. "Meanwhile, look you, sir, you must come to Court, and I will bethink me if I cannot do better for you than to give you a guardsman's uniform ; " with which gracious remark she dismissed the young hero. Presently there was a bustle and flutter of silks and satins, and David found himself one of a procession to the Presence Chamber. For the first time he noticed that Mistress Throckmorton (now, secretly, as we know, Lady Raleigh) was nearest to the Qaeen. Her Majesty was speaking with her as they left the Privy Chamber ; and as the regal com- pany swept into the Presence Chamber, to the sound of trumpets, behold, among the ladies of the Court, David saw his sweetheart, Lucy Withycombe, radiant in brocaded silks, her fair white bosom exposed as was the fashion (and is to this day at the Court functions of Queen Victoria), Elizabeth setting the example. Taking her seat upon the throne, with a dignity of manner not -ell supported by her personal appearance, Her Majesty proceeded to transact the business of the morning with her customary tact and firmness. She received and dismissed certain foreign Ambassadors, gracious to iL„ 2)avl6 iB 3ntro&uce& to (Siueen iBlisahctb 139 each, and with courteous words of friendship and love for their kings and governments. Then she heard sundry peti- tions, and indulged in an almost confidential conversation with my lord Essex, who, in retiring, hnd managed, in the shadow of the throne, to exchange glances with Lucy Withy- combe that probably only David observed ; certainly it was done well out of the ken of Her Majesty. David thereupon moved towards the locality, and, as he did so, my lord Essex whispered something in my lady's ear at which she laughed ; and the next moment David stood between them, frowning. "Did you address me?" asked his lordship, turning upon him, so apparent was David's anger. " I would I might have that honour," David answered. " I am glad you recognise that 'twould be an honour." Brief as the incident was, the scene attracted attention. "Give me leave, my lord," said Lucy, "to present my father's friend. Master David Yarcombe." Essex, with a slight inclination of the head, hardly less rude to David than to the lady herself, passed on. Lucy blushed with vexation. For a moment David forgot where he was. All the world was blotted out. There only re- mained for him Lucy and Lord Essex. On the point of following Essex, he was restrained by a gentle but firm hand. " My lord Burleigh does you the honour to request that you will wait upon him," said Raleigh, and led the boy away. The audience at an end there was sudden talk among a group of the most serious of the illustrious persons present, in regard to a descent upon the shores of Spain ; but more particularly of an expedition to capture certain rich plate- ships, better known as the Indian Carracks, and after that, to ii-iaK.e sail for Panama, and storm its treasury of pearls. It had been only after many petitions, and great and earnest '40 xcbe mbitc ikUxo of mama appeals, that Elizabeth for the first time had been willing to permit her favourite to risk in person the dangers of a perilous expedition beyond the narrow seas. She had however, at last consented. He was to command a fleeJ of fifteen ships, the famous Martin Frobisher serving under him. Raleigh was also the chief adventurer of the expedi- tion. He had invested in it all his available fortune. The Queen had contributed five thousand pounds to the adventure. Already the vessels were almost ready for sea • and Sir Walter informed David that their friend, Master Trevehon, would probably join the fleet, with his Si\ Paul, at Plymouth, though it might be he would reserve him for more important service and ompanionship in that vaster undertaking they had spoken of-the conquest of Guiana and the discovery of the Golden City of Manoa. Raleigh, at this moment, may be said to have been at the very height of his fame and power. Alas, the fall to come I ... As he par led with David, in one of the small courtyards of the palace, he said, "Yonder door, on the left leads to Mistress Throckmorton's rooms ; you will find Mistress Withycombe already awaiting you. Be discreet, and keep your own counsel." " My benefactor ! » said David, with grateful emphasis. " My friend ! " replied Raleigh. And a few minutes later David was with his mistress. CHAPTER XI PASSAGES IN love's TRAGIC CALENDAR LUCY was not alone. Mistress Throckmorton was the first to greet him. Lucy offered her hand shyly. "My dear Master Yarcombe, pray accept my hearty congratulations," said Mistress Throckmorton, of whose recent marriage neither David nor Lucy had any know- ledge. " Her Majesty was more than gracious to you." " Far beyond my deserts." "You must allow Lucy and me to disagree with you in that opinion." "You are all too gracious," he said. " I shall never be able to repay Sir Walter for his generosity." " Nor he you, for the service you rendered him when his life was in peril; so you are quits, dear Master Yarcombe," said Mistress Throckmorton, " though I pray you may never think so ; thus shall you be ever true and devoted friends. What say you, Lucy ? " "The friendship of Sir Walter Raleigh is as a patent of nobility, and David is no less fortunate than brave," she answered. David bowed with a little .00 much formality Mistress Throckmorton thought. " Lucy tells me she fears that Lord Essex hath angered you." "Lord Essex, methinks, might have showed more respect for Lucy, and a less arrogant opinion of himself; but " 1 «4« r ! I I M» Cbe TClbtte mno of manoa him^°" H^'r'T? """ '"-^''^'^'^d," said Lucy, interrupting Mles,?h V '"'^'"' " "'"" ^"'^'"8 »"«n«on. and Mistress 1 hrockmorton will tell you that » " While a passing attention from Lord Essex means, of course, to our dear Lucy nothing more than a mere flutler- ing courtesy, and in other eyes a token of distinction, it IS not to be seriously estimated or encouraged. Lucy understands this, and appreciates it; but our lily of Little bam, my dear Davfd, was made to torture vain women >^ith envy, and to inspire the flattery of men. She brings to Court the beauty of Devon, with the freshness of i°s exhilarating atmosphere, and you must not be an^ry if the Court has the good taste to recognise it. If I did not know how sensibleLucy is, and how capable to guard her good name and maintain the dignity of our Devon women, I would not have brought her to London I wanted to say this to you before I leave you together You must not be jealous, David ; I will answer for Lucy » ' Poor Bessie 1 If she could only have answered for herself! But she knew Lucy's little foibles, and how trifling they were compared with the girl's honourable character ; how underlying her animated enjoyment of life her love of admiration, what a strong fence of honour there was, and how deep a sense of self-respect. Bessie Throckmorton offered her hand to David He kissed It, remarking, "I am greatly beholden to you, dear Mistress 1 hrockmorton, and I am your most devoted servant to command." " And now, do you want to scold me again ? » Lucv asked with a pouting lip, but at the same time lifting her face to his, tears in her eyes. " Nay not I, dearest," he answered, taking her into his arms and kissing her; "yet I think, verily, I love you most when most I do scold you." " But, dear love, 'tis not to my taste to he mfPri of '* Paoaaocfl tn Xopc'e Ztactc dalcnbar 143 mo'Zr ^vl^J '.k' 'T" '^'""'''""^"'^ °f Mistrcs. Throck- morton. Well, .hen, let me tell you that she spoke nought quKl blue of the ocean .n your eyes, and there is nought o compare w„h your lips, except the cherries in our dta Devonshire orchards." "I only desire to be beautiful for your sake David she answered, and she laid her head upon t 'sho^Me'r. But le me reu,md you that since we left the Exe we have only thr.ce met each other in Lundon, and thrice you have saluted me with a homily " "Thrice have we met ? Nay, it seems but once so brief our mtercourse: vet do I r*m„„,k» ' of them F,™, , / remember every mcident 01 inem. tirst, we h?i time t*nnii»K »« i^* ,,, . /■ , enough to let me assure you iliat I was safe and sot -H tk*. ^.. j • . ' for VO„ tn ,.11 >, '*™""^' J"'' ""'6 «"0"gh for you to tell .n. how ,,ou fared at Court, and for me to mention some o( .y adventures. 1 thank the Fates *at at this third encounter I have had time and p.rmissioi to ."d Litl^II^' ''" "'-' "" '-^•"'^ '^y^ - ^^h "But Sir Walter, prior to our second meetini; had nformed me of the nature of your arrival in the Thames and of your wandering away from the object of your vTs " f vou h-r" 7 "T' ^ "°' '"'SeUing yi,r rescue";™^ If you lingered too long with the Lysons, I forgive you House^w^ ::; y '^r " '■"' '''"'"' ^°" '° ^"^^ «ouse Without a formal presentation " "I blamed myself that 1 did not make straight for Durham House the moment I landed from Treve ion's ^h.p; but surely Fate led me to Paul's Walk, that/ ml eventually reach Durham Housf^ w,>k . ^ be denied." passport not to •tl7nt°H^f f'^'"" "'' '^'' ^'''' «°^««'" «aid Lucy, ter David had related in detail some of the inddents of escape from the assassins of Paul's Walk. after 144 Ube mbitc -ftina of manoa "It would interest you." " Part of a ruined monastery, you say ? " " Yes ; destroyed by King Henry." I' But with whole rooms, enough for a pleasant home ? " " Is she pretty ? I mean your nurse " "I think so." " What is she like ? " "A kindly, sweet, and natural young woman '* hat7she?""'' '' "''" ^°"P'^^'^"^ ^^hat kind of eyes plexion.''' ""'^""'^^^'^ '^''' ^"^ ^^ aJ'nost olive com- " An Indian ? " ' desl^nt."'"' '"^ ^^"^"'^' ^^^' P''^'^^^ °^^''"^^ °^ SP^^'^h "Oh I" David stole his arm about Lucy's waist. ;| You like dark, melancholy eyes ?" she asked. 1 hey are m keeping with xMary Lysons' face." "No doubt." "As your deep blue eyes befit your fair Devonian countenance." devonian " Indeed ! " "She has a soft sympathetic voice," David went on in attractions of his benefactress. faces^^""" """ ^''"^'' '^^ ^°' ^^"' ^^'^^ ^"^ ^^^^^f"l " I always liked yours." « Likedf ' I 'h V'^"^' withdrawing herself from his embrace. Liked! And I was foolish nough to believe you loved me J but It IS only that you like me. after all ! It is Marv Lysons you love, with her dusky skin and her dark melancholy eyes." passages in Xove's XLvagic Calcnbac ms "My dear !" replied David, now deeply in earnest, "you are surely not jealous ? " "Not more jealous than you ; yet quite as much." "I did not place myself in the way of Mary Lysons," he said. ^ ' " Mary Lysons ! " she repeated, her face flushing. " You are very familiar with her." " It is quite natural that I should be ; she was my nurse you know." ' " Continually in your bed-chamber, I suppose ? " "For many days, yes ; and when I came to myself I thought she was an angel." ' " But now she is nearer the earth and more accessible : and calls you David, I suppose ? " *' She calls me Master Yarcombe ; and was just as kind and solicitous while she thought n a rogue and ruffler: for I was wearing the bandit's jerkin, and there were vile documents in his pouch, and among the gold in his purse certain counterfeits." " And where was her mother, what time she was nursing you ? " ° "Attending to her household duties, I presume; for they had no servants, lest they should be betrayed on account of their religious observances. They had a private subterranean way to the chapel I told you of." "And they have made you a Papist, as well as a lover ? " " Nothing could make me a Papist ; and I have been a lover, almost as long as I can remember." " Oh, indeed ! And who may the fortunate damsel be whom you have persuaded to return your affection?" asked Lucy, with well-acted curiosity. " The loveliest maiden in all the world when she did return mv fond nass'Qr. • Knf tu^^ „u^ i.-_j •■ and was ontent to be worshipped by one simple lover." 10 I4<3 Ubc TRUblte TkinQ of /©anoa over until he began to long for adventures, and fell into the^ds of Papist .aidens with dark .^lanchoj l^ "Nay. sweetheart!" exclaimed David, suddenly seizin- her, though not without a struggle, and kissing her fairW on the hps. "You shall not do yourself the wrong t^^ me either, to think I could love another." -in! J*' ^ '"""" . '" "° '°"8^' ™J°>' yo"^ confidence- ^mce your acquaintance with Mistress Lysons, the Paoist maiden, with the dark melancholy eyes " ^ "1 had. not then had the high fortune to be presented .0 Her Majesty; I had not witnessed for myself th'Tencf of this virgin Court. Oh, it galls me to the quic k to know hat the gallants, with their empty heads and hoUw hearts have made you their toast." '* " How dare you say so ? " "Because it is true. Moreover, did I not to-day see with ,mne own eyes the coquettish smile with which you reeetvcd Lord Essex's whispered impertinences? Did not note the nods and nudges of the grinning anatomie who mismterpreted your unsophisticated aeknowledgZ of their grimaces ? Did I not " '-"fements "Oh, spare me!" Lucy exclaimed, rising to her feet m your heart. You say you love me. I know you believe h tl also love you. And yet you treat me thus! You think me a feather-brain; that I can bear: but you do not trust me ; and that I will not bear." ;;Does the shepherd trust his pet lamb among wolves l>" He would be a poor shepherd if he did" T„ov answered; "though M„ ,ter Trev'elion wouW sj lou had not fared ,11 among the wolves of the Mitre Hcu'se, with heir Papa, snares and, no doubt, their thumbscrew Ind things hidden in the wainscot." Passaoes in love's Uragfc Caleii&ar .47 " You are unreasonable, Lucy ! " "Nay; 'tis you that are unreasonable. Would you have me a country Molly at Court, a mere ninny or a prude f„ghtened at her own virtue, brusheda^de by titled dames and scoffed at bv the 0„<..„'. i j , . would have them know, lords a^ tie^ t^ fwi Ly combes are no plebeians, and that Lucy of that ilk ctn hold her own with the best of them ! And if Master Dav.d Yarcombe doth object, because I have not dal melancholy eyes and a soft low voice, and have not Ltd h.m, why, Master David Yarcombe can go back to Ma-y I^sons, and leave the girl he professes to love but only likes, to her own devices." ^ "Lucy!" exclaimed David, detaining her; "you wron^ me; you wrong yourself. You would not be so anlry ff there was not at least a grain of reason in my toTousy of Lord Essex; and I own it, that, deep in mfhea t Ijm jealous of that most officious a'nd pTJsumTng "Better complain to the Queen, and I will confess your Mary Lysons That would end things; two more head Paptrs^-^r'''' ^"'r'^^^ '^' ^^^^"^ martyrdom o Pap St samt," I.ucy replied, with flashing eyes her bosorn swellmg with unrestrained emotion " Lucy ! " " I know what I have said." " Lucy, my darling ! " " Don't darling me any more. You have goaded me mto an unwomanly passion." ^ " Lucy, dearest ! " made o. 1 You consent to my coming to Court and thmk It poss ble I can be still th^ , • ♦u- 1 , ^"" '"e tame mexDcricnrpfl thmg you left at Littlehnm t ,„;.u t , '^^ptncnced ^ "«-ii i were ucaa i " Lucy, my dear," said David, vainly trying ,o take 148 trbc mbitc Tljfna of mmoa Presently, however, she permitted his embrace • but only to recover her composure sufficiently to complain tha to upbratd her and bring false charges against'h" 1 not the way to make her bdieve that he truly WH her; a conclusion that may not be gainsaid. trarln f '' ^"'^ ""' "'^ '"'bit David had con- crai°n ,fr' '° '"^ *^"- "-- ^"^ comfort and on"a t wi h t'h? T °'?'""^^ Peacefulness, in striking evcTDurlam Ho Tl' "' '^''"^''^" ^''''''^ ""d even Durham House, and the recreation of Mary Lvsons> :t:z:t'zt '- '-•' '-' "- ^^^^^^ ,Ji. r ^'"^ ^^" " ='°'dier in foreign serviced and her mother's tender solicitude for David" wjfere h/tolerated t;i:l ^r; ^^0^.7^ so^^f 'the' •hmgs he had said in his delirium. His dreams had been mostly of strange lands beyond the sunset. Littt^d Da«d ,mag,„e tha. he had kindled in that purhem the first .morous dawn of love, the tender pain of minlled hope and doubt, destined to end in despair ^ Until David Yarcombe came to the Mitre H™,.. , one way of life had seemed to lie L^X^Zs":^! and It led to a monastery in France. When, after S of darkness he opened his eyes once more to thi world r^Cet-f%ir.ij:r^; r- "' ^- went, and he followed her S thC:i:k:otrwr;„t traversing that floral path, and her hp«rf k^»* _.-., PoQBam in Xopc'B ZTraoic Calcnt>av 149 rapture even transcending the bliss she had found in M^eXr: ;'""""^ -' ''^ ^-^^^ -^^^^^ ^^ ^^« But. with the bhndness and natural arrogance of a man David^all unknowing, had obliterated the flowery patbwa; that Mary had seen for a moment com ,ting the Lveri^ of the other road. All suddenly, the flowers had withered the song-birds in her heart had stopped singing, a resigned adness gave minor tones to her voice, and to L eyes the languor that comes of an unconfessed disappointment. One day, when David came to take his leave and brought gifts that he desired the Lysons to accept in remembrance touched with apartmg pang the saddest chord in the girl's heart. His offering to Mary Lysons was a Cross of beaten gold with an inlaid image of the S.:viour, wrought by the hand of a master of the goldsmith's craft It struck her for a moment as a rebuke to an unholy ambition. Though she bad made no pledge to the Church of voluntary ^nJirr' '"n"'".' ''' -ntemplated no other destiny until she knew David Yarcombe; and it was he who at parting, seemed to expunge the last glimmer of that other path, in which for a short while she had walked in trembling hope of a love not less beautiful than that of the cloister ^^ And when you marry Mistress Withycombe," she said She took from her finger the only ring she had ever worn • It was a gold band, with an inlaid rim of dull gems. It was my sister's ring of betrothal ; she died ere she had oeen a wife two years; I promised, if ever I did wed I would give it to my hu.band. Nay, take it; I shall be "!S':'.^^^:!!::!:ij^^ t. ^-^^-^^ -^ ^ - ^iread, . ...V- ^iiuiv;u. ivrtcr lo-uay, you may only think Of me as one of the sisterhood of Saint Martha that is at '5° Ube mmc iRiiifl of /ffiianoa Tours, and us one who will pray for your happiness and hers Chr,.t and the Blessed Virgin have you and her^ in their keeping ! " bye for''' ■f'"*"'''''^' """^ '"'' '"''"*'« it was good- As he turned and left the house, she felt that she snuld never see him again. He did not know that she Ic.vocl hiJ S>he knew that he loved ar.other. He had told he: so. It was as If some one had .said to her: "The yoi-n/ run whom you nursed to life has died after all." Only1„ he next world could she ever hope to h-M his hr.nd agaTn Would It be in the mild Purgat . y that .... to be the pa^^^! «« to Paradise for the elect? Even li.en he vould be another's. And she ™uld hav. been tbrs.orVthe d-t^ ::ti'vedto " -^"^ ""^^''"- "" "°"' « -'■ ^^-^ resolved to ,■■,:, a convent. What a strange world I How dared she thml. a:. ? How d„red she criticise it ? And m It would have tec; better they had never met; tl. her love of him was continually in the way of her whoi;so..l love of Cod and ner worsiiip of Mary, the Mother of God i clock' ''-^ ^Z '"".'^''"' ""'* """"""^ 'he strokes of Paul's clock resently, flinging herself before a crucifix she that David Varcombe, whom she had been permitted to .succour, might have Christ's protection; even though he , of God and His Holy Church. There was a little underlying proviso she could not keep back, that, whether he were Lutheran or Catholic, God would not cast him Tat td ?'""k' """''" """"' "^ ^""^ '° h'™ for h " sake and pu upon her any penance if need be, that should abolve her from the wickedness of this petiti;n, if it ^^e avid^trrA'l':!!''^'?"^''''^ ""-ned to rescue no„.vi r . ^ "''" iniervenea to i uavid from thp assp*""*"" -> ^^l- • ...^.,..,^ uiju liiut inereiorc it mit , ^e a m pasrages in Xovc's Ztaoic Calendar 151 holy wish that He would continue to watch over hinj. Later, when she came to confess that she had loved David Yarcombe, the priest, being in this case both man and pnest, and having in his own heart the memory of a boyish love, gave her, with the slightest penance, absolution, and comforte her with kindly sympathetic words ; but the pang of parting was never quite allayed in the tender heart of Mary Lysons. I ! IMS CHAPTER XII DAVID RUNS AGAINST LORD ESSEX AND RALEIGH IS ARRESTED pOR a brief space London was to David a paradise. X It would have been without alloy, but for an occasmnal .ncursion of the serpent. Every earthly para- dise has ,.s serpent. The worm that harassed David was D^vid was foo." ^' "'""" '°^'"'^ °f P°°' humanity Uav>d was fool enough not to see that Lucy Withycombel coquetnes were the harmless outcome of her novel po"don -a country belle suddenly transformed into a Court lady and not that alone, but a Court lady whose beauty l»d been remarked even by Her Majesty. '^ Lucy had her moods. She loved David truly, spite of her vaganes ; and now and then she was in the hulur to let h,m understand how deep and true was her devotio" So one day David would be the happiest of men The next day Lucy's healthful blood coursing through T't young v.ns, she would fling back the daring glance of some other no less handsome courtier with a witticism wretcned. Then he would sulk. If Mary Lysons had not started on her sacred mission to Tours, and the Mitre House was thus practically cI«ed°o h.m, he m.ght still have gone there for consolation' lilTtre^ IRalcfflb fa Hrresteb s'ptif oTTucVf/" 'r '"'"'"'' 'o check the exuberant spirits of Lucy, but wuhout avail ; and she could not be Hef Jl'l^'haf ■ '" "-"'' ™- l^" 8-«est comlrt Her tadysh.p had serious anxieties of her own, as Lucy well knew, and nothing could have exceeded the mZ ?LviJ. T '■'"'"'^ """■ J"^'°"'y '•"d not disturbed Uav,ds peace of mmd. he had a mighty resource in the efthimT. '" "'T- ^'" '^'^"" «"'-S''. «ho had left h,m sole master of Durham House in his absence The Queen had at last permitted Sir Walter to underuke west Indies, and for many weeks David lived like a lord htL2 ""'-^ ''" '' '"''• "^ "'■«'" have followed up h s s udies with exceptional facilities in Sir Walter's remark abte library, where the master had burnt the midnlghTo, nf hi !i^^'^'""^ """'' "^^' '"'^'^ ^'^ shelves-rtcords of the discoveries of Bartholomew De Dia, »,h„ b ! doubled the Cape of Good Hope; V^Tol: wt had crossed the Indian Ocean ; the adventures of " Chr: " foro Colombo"; the romance of Prester John ; th. travels of Wilham de Rubruquis and Marco Polo; not to me-' n hose works on Peru that had fired the ambition of Raicg" n regard o the unoccupied territory of Guiana, such Is the marvellous revelations of Pedro de Cieza de Leon Miguel Balboa. Jos^ de Acosta (one of the ne«^st Spanish , volumes in the library), and the valuable wriUngs o'ft e earned lawyer. Polo de Ondegardo, of which there wa a ranshtion in manuscript, bound in vellum. Better still I avid might have poured over Sir Walter's own an .uuans of the voyages of Vincent Yane^ Pinzon, Vasco Nune" wL."'° ': ?''"■ '"^ '"^ P"™'^ -port'' of Cap"ain Whiddon, and the intercepted dispatches to the King of Spam, brought to Durham House h„ siH™„.,.i, ^......1 all having regard to Guiana, and some'^^^^'It'-Gdde'J; '54 trbc Mbitc ■ftlnfl of manoa City of Manoa" which had for so long filled the imagination of^he^ Queen's favourite. Capcain of the Guard, and sage Had h,s/r<.. been vouchsafed a glimpse into the future he would have revelled in the histories, maps, plans, a^d docum,„ts over ■ ' ■. Golden City of Manoa " had for Raleigh, rhcj a J ray of splendour, blazoned wUh Ihe latter , ere "mere dross compared with the treasure, of Gu.an.v' »s Sir Walter was well informed. But Dav^ one , London, lived far |. . f„^., ,,^ ./^-^J hved m Devonshire, where his fancy had its full nlav undistu-bed by the pangs of jealousy, and the pettv amhiuons of a Court ■ pvpr^ „,,„ j ^^ hiehi- t tn ,!,„ 1 "' ^ ™" """^ ™™*"' from the fir; , ""'' ^mpeting-often meanly enough- for the smtles of the Queen. Yet the busy ships in the T.umes came and went, on their missions of trade a„d STof'^h "" '°"" *" '" ^°"""-' "Pectation of f descent of the enemy on the coasts. Meanwh,le, the fleet, which was to attack the Pp~ =ards and sack Panama, was delayed by various accidents for many ...ks. I. eventually sailed on mycTtT The next day .Sir Martin Frobisher overtook Ra ivh t" 4'r '"" '"^ ^"^^" '^»'""« ^i^Concet wiLr ^T°"' ""' *°° ^'''P'y ^"g^'g^'J f" ^o quick a w. hdrawal, he contmued at sea until ah hopes of carrying He left .7""' ''^r '"" "' ''' "y "- "' '"X '•""«;' d Sr I„h°T"« °?'' "^^"^ ^"- ^f""- Frobisher coat of S ^^l!'''' "'"" ""^^^=^ '° «""'- on the coast of Spa, ana the Islands. The ships spread th»n, selves, Jor pr.es and for l»tt.e. an. Ka.ei,,, 'return^all While Sir Walter was r. g . contrary ;„d, ,^, Kept him inactive a» sea hi« r.^ / r im^-nvc a. 5,ea, nis ne es were bn«v of i,„. .% .. Bessie Throckmort began to experience a feeling of embarrassment in p ,sence of tlie Queen. Her Majesty questioned her curiously about Sir Walter. It was evident that the Queen suspected the nature of her relationship with her favourite Captain of the Guard. One has to confess that the farthingale was useful to the poor lady ; though it was no defence against the significant glances of certain of the maids of honour, who were less fair and had been less favoured by the Queen, respite much assertion of innocence and the pose of Elizabeth, Her Majesty's maids were not more beyond suspicion than Swift asserts Anne's to have been, in which he is uplield by one of Raleigh's most recent and interesting biographers, William Stobbing. "Lord Essex's gallantries at Court,' after and beft his marriage, were notorious. Lord Southampton and his bride were the subjects of a similar tale a few years later. Palace gossip treated it as a very ordinary peccadillo. Cecil, in February, 1601, tells Carew of the ' misfortune ' of one of the maids. Mistress Fritton, with Lord Pembroke, as if it were a jest. 'Both the culprits,' he remarked, 'will dwell in the Tower awhile.' His phrases show none of the horror they breathed wiien he spoke of Raleigh, and the Queen wa- likely to read them. The English Court was pure in tho time of Elizabeth for its time." liut had it been immaculate, poor Bes le Throckmorton could not have been more cruelly treated. Her supposed condition changfl the attitude of Lucy Withycombe'' admirers towards the friend and companion c. ,ae sweet and geni wou, n. They did not hesitate to insult her; not, of coa ;, in word, but by knowing nods and smiles. And when Lucy Withy- combe, now realising the terrible situation, resented what hitherto she had! rather coui ed, her adniir.rs, mere erjpcrialiy j.oiu msex. forced their attentions upon her in a manner that brought tears to her eyes. She darec say kH i:; i '5« ttbc TOlbite ifino Of /»anoa nothing to David, even had he l«en at hand, lest he should SX :hr':'' """"'■"« »" -'"eU^^^^^^^^ mistress, by challenging men right and left as shi^ M, Mi^tresVTht. """"T'^' "' '-^"^ "^ "'-H oftu e Mistress rhrockmorton had sent him r.fr . u try and overtake her ,oM ; Joav Vd '.run:^ to" come „p„aH .he flee., though he had mad a grea '1^ iadTt"wa:i"'":rd'' ?' '°zv'r "^ **'''^''^'» '--"•'« laay in wa,.,ng and Lucy had left Whitehall. They had not been d.sm.ssed, but had obtained leave from Her Majesty ,o absent themselves for a time, that Mistfess Throck„K,r,o„, who had been in iU-health f^r some week might have the benefit of a change of air. Her luXtv wouW not see them, that they might take their "IveCd Cecl, however, had met them in the ante-room of the Queens Chamber and been n.ost gracious and symna°het7c and hoped S,r Walter would soon return to ju.,t fy M stress' Ihrockmorton, for whom he expressed the molt sincere esteem and respect; words that m after years she had welcome and comfortmg. Sir Walter certainly did not leave tngtad confident that all would be well n It absence. He had arranged that, in case of need h " «^fe should return to his house at Sherborne, where he h t nere that Lady Kale.gh was put to bed; hf-re that, as wife "Zv sh? ?T "^ """"'^'^ ^"'"S""" of His or "^ gmU and rom consciousness of guilt to the reality," ays ences and language to his wife may be detected a tone in l^^r'rza:^:!:^-^'^ «- - -1, :: * " ■■■""""b iv-iiturc ui iiicir passion is that IRaleiflb (0 arre5te& 157 they loved with true love and also with a love which grew " It was Camden, in his " Annals," who first explained Kaleigh's crime and punishment : « honorid liepnr, virgine vitiatd, quam postea in uxorem duxit» It is not difficult to agree with Mr. Gosse in his estimation of the crime, in which he takes a similar view to that of Mr. Stebbing, but with greater directness. "Raleigh's clandestine relations with Elizabeth Throckmorton were not in themselves without excuse. To be the favourite of Elizabeth, who had now herself attained the sixtieth summer of her immortal charms, was tantamount to a condemnation to celibacy The vanity of Belphfebfi would admit of no rival among high or low, and the least divergence from devotion justly due to her own imperial loveliness was a mortal sin. What is less easy to forgive in Raleigh than that, at the age of forty, he should have rebelled at last against this tyranny, IS that he seems in the crisis of his embarrassment to have abandoned the woman to whom he could write long after- wards, • I chose you and loved you in my happiest times.' After this brief dereliction, however, he returned to his duty, and for the rest of his life was eminently faithful to the wife whom he had taken under such painful circumstances." This "dereliction" was his appeal to the Queen from prison. For, immediately on landing, the Queen, without seeking explanation or excuse, committed him straight to the Tower. History is inclined to be harsh with him for that, ignoring his wife or the " crime " for which he was imprisoned, he " filled the air with the picturesque clamour ^i his distress," and his protestations of devotion to the Queen. No one, however, except the Queen, could take seriously his professedly heartbroken desire to behold " the Idol of his heart" once again~he, as it has been well said, a soldier of (brty; she, a maiden of sixty! Yet it is true ^" ' '" '•*■-'■-- "ci ictccrs iiuui iiic lower, in the heated imagery of a wild passion and an unswerving 15* Zhc Mbite mm of /©aitoa devotion. He, that was wont to « behold her riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking like Venus, the gentle wind blowing her fair hair about her pure cheeks like a nymph; sometimes sitting in the shade like a goddess; sometimes singing like an angel; sometimes playmg hke Orpheus"; she was gone from him, and he was left in a "dark prison all alone." A subtle touch, that dark prison." Raleigh could write picturesque prose as deftly as he could turn an amorous sonnet; and any one can see that this was not a love-letter, but an attack on a woman's vanity, by a man whom she had tied by the leg It was a comedy of passion, and he kept it up until it was as good, or as bad, as a play. To David Yarcombe, however, all this was tragic. His sweetheart flown, his patron a prisoner, he was at a loss what to do. His first duty he conceived to be to Her Majesty. She had commanded him to come to Court More than once she had honoured him with special markJ of her favour. On one occasion she had asked him what she could do to advance his interests. He replied that he would consult his chief. Sir Walter Raleigh. "Thou'rt nght in that," she said. "There is none so keen to advance his friends, except wh en his own interests are to l^e considered." But coming to Whitehail now, at the accepted time of audience, he was informed by the chamberlain that Her Majesty would dispense with his further presence at Court, but he might, if he thought tit attend Sir Walter Raleigh at the Tower. * " In what capacity ! " exclaimed the lad, with the manli- ' ness of a veteran. " As a prisoner ? Or a free man ? » " Nay, as a free man," said the chamberlain. "Free man or prisoner," he replied, drawing himself up to his full height, " my place is by his side ; and I have yet to learn that tlie Tower is a much worse place than the ante-room of Her Majesty's presence chamber!" tRaldob is arrcste^ »S9 " 'Th^" ^;'t do well to reserve thy condemnation of Her Majesty s ministers and servants for some safer place " sa.d the ofiicial. "And a word in thine ear; thou Vrt young and rash. It were greater service to thy friend and patron if thou shouldst use the soft words of diplomacy rather than the noisy language of offence. Her Majesty has been good to thee ; she is kindly to Sir Walter Raleigh that she doth permit thee to visit him." ''I thank you, sir," David replied, doffing his hat. Ihe Queen has no more ready champion than your humble servant, except it is my most chivalrous chief and master." As he bowed and turned to the doorway, he had the misfortune to run against my lord Essex, who, for an earl took the accidental contact with an ill-mannered rebuke ' whereupon David, following him almost to the presence chamber, there laid his hand upon his shoulder, since ho did not deign to notice David's polite apology. " I begged your pardon, sir," said David. " Tis well. Stand aside ! " was the curt reply. "That is no answer to a courteous excuse for the un- toward accident of brushing your magnificence with my jcrkin." ^ "Then take that for thy guerdon," said Essex, hitting hnn a box on the ear; "and if one might go out with a base-born churl, I would fight you." " But, by God, you will fight me !" said David. Essex was just as young and just as headstrong and rash as David , and it was useless chat the chamberlain and several of the Queen's guards attempted to step between David and his assailant. "Defend yourself," said David, "or I'll crop your ears. If you were forty times a lord ! " -»^ vuus.«, wuo naa jusi entered the presence chaml)er heard the noise, and sent out to learn the cause of the i6o Ube mbitc fklrxQ of mama disturbance ; and before David could sheathe his sword, he was seized and brought before the Queen, Essex at the same time standing forward, ruffled and flushed with anger. " God's body ! " exclaimed Her Majesty. " A brawl, almost in my very presence. And you, my lord Essex, having no longer Master Raleigh to curl your lip at and wag your tongue against, art reduced to flouting his lackey ? " " Pardon, gracious Queen," said David, kneeling at her feet ; " I am no man's lackey." " What then dost think thou art, ingrate ? " " Nor any ingrnte, either," said David ; and the Q'leen, while keeping up her show of anger, was pleased with the young man's boldness. " I am a gentleman, your Majesty, and grateful beyond expression for your Majesty's favour." The Queen had tired of the haughty devotion of Essex, and was willing to humiliate him. •' So, because you are a gentleman and grateful for your Queen's favour, you make a brawl at her doors, and justify your removal to the Tower." " An it please your Majesty send me to a worser place, an there be one. I am your most humble, devoted servant." "God's body, I believe you! Stand up, Master Yarcombe. My lord Essex, on your allegiance, how came it about, this most unseemly disturbance ? " "Your Majesty, this fellow ran against me." "Why 'this fellow'? Why not this gentleman? His ancestor fought at Agincourt." Essex noted, with chagrin, the smile of amusement with which the Queen looked around upon the Court, and felt that she intended to humiliate him. (( Nnv. vniir J A/fni^^u;! V fellow, baulk him not." 'Ste IRalcfob fs arrested i6i "Silence, sirrah 1 » said the Queen ; "thou art too bold methmks." ' David who had spoken on bended knee, rose and stepped back/ abashed. "He ran against you?" said the Queen. "Gad's hfe ! as if he were a bull at the baiting ? He hath an '^:^tr' ''"-'-' '^ '^ -^ ^^^ ^^^ *' He had the temerity to draw upon me, your Majesty." For the which, you are willing to cut his throat. Lord Cnamberlam, what say you ? " "The gentleman apologised to my lord; who declined to accept It, and regretted he could not fight with him because he was a base-born churl." returning*' ''"'' ""^ ^'''^'" "'^'"^ '^' ^"''"' ^'' ""^^^ "It is your Majesty," said Essex. "But I pray your trrace to let us to the business of the Council " "God's body! This is the business of' the Council my lord and I am the. Council ; and whether you will o^ no, I forbid you to fight. Dost hear, sirrah ? " She turned, with a muttered oath, to David, who bowed to the ground, with the grace of the most perfect of courtly practitioners. ' " And you, Essex ? " " I shall obey your Majesty.'' " I hope so," said the Queen. Lord Essex responded ^ith a haughty inclination of the head that did not escape Her Majesty's attention "Get you gone, Master Yarcombe. I gave you per- mission to visit your chief, as ye call him-the traitor, Sir Walter Raleigh." * David was on the point of exclaiming : "He is no tr^or your Majesty '- ; but thought better of it, and withdrew. ' My lord Burleigh," said the Queen, "we rmve your l62 trbc TObite 'ftiiia of /»anoa indulgence for this delay in the consideration of State affairs." "Most gracious Queen." said the great and judicious minister, " we are your Majesty's loving servants." David made his way to the Tower, a free man. ... It was but a short time afterwards that Essex was conducted thither a prisoner. CHAPTER XIII "TOT NOT yoOR TRUST IN PRINCES' FAVOORS" ■n ALEIGH was arrested in June, and released in Sep- XV tember. Imprisonment was painful to him for very different reasons from those which had dictated his appeals to the Queen. He knew the only way to Her Majesty', heart was through her vanity or her pocket. At first he appealed to her vanity. It was through her pocket that she was finally touched with pity for her prisoneV But for Ir^TT °^^'''" ''"''""^'' *"" *^ opportunity thus afforded of sendmg messages to his wife, his confinement under the circumstances would have been maddenine It was a consolation that he was enabled to assure hil'wife that ne had all he required in his prison apartments except her sweet society. He did not mention the cause of her ■llness ; though in a letter some years afterwards he is understood to have referred to the birth of a daughter, who d d not live long enough to feel the pinch of his neces ities, as he feared she might. At his richest Sir Walter doubted his capacity to maintain his estates, seeing how vast were kIIT t r"'l''" '^'"^ '"""'^"^ '° '""""* 'hat Colonial Empire which is the glory and strength of England under V iciOiia. (Jt °''^'''^°f.^'" Walter's release from imprisonment for the c im, of loving Bessie Throckmorton was the return iL'fli...'""" K™,f **''™'"o™'3' ships. Soon after he left tae !le...' ..«,bisher «id de Burgh sent home a prize of six 163 i64 TTbe mbitc iRtno of manoa hundred tons burden, the San^a Clara. West of Flores they were disappointed of the Santa Cruz, of nine hundred tons, which her officers burnt; but soon afterwards the great Crown of Portugal carrack, the Madre de Dios, was sighted. Three of the EngHsh ships engaged her. She had eight hundred men on board. The fight was long and obstinate. Raleigh's commanders captured her. She had stores of precicjs stones, amber, spices, and musk. Her cargo of pepper alone was said to be worth a hundred thousand pounds. She also had on board fifteen tons of ebony, besides tapestries, silks, and satins. When she arrived at Dartmouth— these reports having preceaed her— the place was like a fair. Before the vessel came into port there was some pilfering of the cargo. It was in vain that de Burgh embargoed it all as the Queen's. Precious stones, pearls, and musk were portable, and easily carried in breeches- pockets. Moreover, the crew were filled with reseniaient at their master, Raleigh, being a prisoner. The Queen's Council sent down Lord Cecil to hold the treasure intact. Sir John Hawkins had sent to Lord Burleigh, saying that for the division of the spoil Raleigh was the especial man ; and so, by appealing: to the well-known covetousness of the Queen, Burleigh obtained Raleigh's release from the Tower ; and away he went to Dartmouth, but not entirely a free man. It was with great satisfaction that, soon after arriving at Dartmouth, Sir Walter was able to send David Yarcombe to Sherborne with letters and fond messages to his wife. Htrein he acquainted her with the efforts he had made to obtain release from the Tower, his fulsome letters to the Queen, his pretended attempt at suicide, and other theatrical tricks likely to impress Her Majesty ; but how at last, she was only touched by Sir John Hawkins's and Lord Burleigh's appeal to her cupidity and selfishness, ii lb prubabic, however, that the Queen was not altogether "put not tour Ztixst fn pi-inces' favowa " .65 SO great a slave to her vanitv as ^w Woi. u j . make up their lovers' quarrels Th^r^ cfm u unhnppi,, .chained a sladow upol h s wo i„r"He encouraged unpleasant reminiscences o S ,il his nas.in., !ir ^ ^'■'"^ '^^ "<" judicious in lis passing allusions to Mary, and Lucy was sceotiml concerning the ring Marv had alv,„ J^ I'^T^"] it to Lucy, who declined it «h-"" ' ""■, . . """^" u uecunea it. She reminded him that 1 66 Ube mbitc Mwq of /Dbanoa it was to be a gift to the woman he should make his wife. They were not married yet, she urged; and there was "many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip." David had some very miserable hours to chequer his happiness at Sherborne by reason of these little passages of jealousy. True love should be frank. It is false pride and jealousy that too often muddy its course. Lucy Withycombe's mother being taken dangerously sick, Lucy felt bound to return to Littleham. David had the privilege of being one of her escort to the nearest port for Topsham, and they parted for the time being on good terms. But they were neither of them quite happy. Parting should be a sweet sorrow. Unfortunately Lucy could not see David's point of view with David's eyes, nor he contemplate her attitude through hers. Their controversies, about Lord Essex on one side and Mar^' Lysons on the other, had left a sting behind; the tiniest pin-prick. They had both missed the opportunity of applying the antidote of mutual concession; and they parted, conscious of an incompleteness in their confidence in each other that clouded their affections. "When the heart is full, the iips are silent." Lucy looked all she had to say ; but David could not read the sign. So they both went their ways sorrowfully. There was soon to be another and more serious oppor- tunity for making up for this lost time; and one may venture a hope that love would find the way for the most perfect reconciliation. . . . Almostevery moment of David's intercourse with Sir Walter at Sherborne was connected with Raleigh's plans for the conquest of Guiana. »00ft IV mTH THE PIONEERS AND THE NOBLE WOMEN THET LEPr BEHIND THEM CHAPTER I THE BEOmNING OF MANY STRANGE ADVENTURES T^O .n imaginative mind Nature might have seemed X to be offering an encouraging welcome to the little fleet of adventurous ships that cast anchor in Plymouth Sound on the 6th day of February. .555. n „,/, °"^^ of great hopes, and doubts, and fears. The wood-lark wii*"" K "^ r? '""'"' '""^ "f Sood cheer as Lucy Withycombe and her father left Littleham on their w.v ^o Plymouth; and the thrush was singing by Plymouth rioe wh,le they waued and watched for the English fleet. On their way they had noted the elder-.ree disclosing its flower-buds. and the catkins of the hazel prominent in the hedges. Lucy Withycombe's black dress looked a trfle less sombre for these welcome signs of spring; though her heart responded but slowly to the inspiriting i;fluence that had made her father garrulous and prophetic 71 happy future. If he mr..,,«^j u:_ ^^,. ^./ "' * • " " L ^ *' -""-" '"" uvrtu Wire, It miffht be that, acceptmg the inevitable in a religious spirit, he X67 1 68 XCbe mbnc Ikfna of mmon i It had nevertheks, felt a relief fro ,, the cessation of her on;:::':? ::T""' '^ '^"^ ^^'^ '«=^" ""^ "--^"^ consort of an imperious and aml,itiou^ woman. Lucy had felt the loneliness of the old house on her return from Ix,ndon and Sherborne. She missed IJavid and had not fully appreciated the lad's love in .hose Arcadian fr mfof Zd?^' Tt- ''""^-'"^'^- honesty. In th^ ac^jL T' , f *"■"• "'^ ""^"'ciously nourished a certam jealousy by way of compensat,.n for her own .hortcommgs; for, though she did not acknowledge it to David, or even to herself, her conscience often upbraided now?h , ^ '"" ""' '"™'°"' ^°"d-' "' C-«- And have ,>f .Tu" ^''^ "Goodbye," if she could only trL T, . " ^'"' ^"' P'^y- '° ^^^'o^^ "^ '^"o '■nd un ammelled p.-,ssion. how many a sorrowful hou. she she mi.r r '?'" '" "^'^ '° "^<""« ' '" ">e which she might also, peradventure, have influenced the destinv ac r't"l It '"''"'°". "'■S'" ""^ »'«y^d him from accepting the strange destiny that awaited him. . One of the incidents of the day was the arrival at Plymouth. .,.g and baggage, of old Liberty Dent He were. .,,, to be left behind, with so grand an enterprise under w.,^. and with the chance to .ail under Sir Walter ^dt?oM °;;"' """■' ^'"~'"^ "" hi' heutenant. and dear old Sid ' to ,o.n the fleet i. the Sf. Paul." Not he And so, there he was, with David's father; one to goabroad the other to say " Farewell." s^-uroaa. And Udy Raleigh, having in vain used all her per- ToTIt'^t '"'"T '", '""'''' •° ^"^eo .he expedit^n, kTk ,;l, "' '° ""' h'd joined her husband's ship to bid him "Good-bye" on his own deck and to ch e'Lim It "7^ '"' ^'^^ "'^'>*^- " »he despaired of th^ venture and {eart>A fXt- k^- a i__ j, - . **^ «be *?eflinntito •' Strange a^^>enture0 .«-, b.wd. W.ih her smartest , ,w„ ,he wore her briKhtcst *ef,un,h,r pennant had faded out of sight tha' sh^g,; ua«ds father still gating out to sea, and murmuring with he tears streaming down his cheeks, " Cood bye, de- t lad oy mun ! Before the ship's pinnace was lowered to tike house and la^nds L^tL" .^"^ -trc^p^r Z ^S The origmals be with my lawyer. God bless you, my lad "• Lucy was the last to leave the vessel. Taking examnle "e^ She htf '''''""' "°' '•""""'='' hersif^'sS a tear. She had even ventured to rally Uavid on his pro- seas ai! of them, she understood from Liberty Dent rejoiced of bad' " ""k '"' "''''""'"^y ^y«- Though wHi" touching Lucy's coquetries in town, Uavid refrained f,Im uttenng a word that might cast a deeper shldow :' ZZ parting than that which clouded it by reason of licvl ' of Lai r'l \'"'T' ""= "'-'""•"^'^ cheerful ext:^e "f Lady R.Ueigh. Perhaps Uavid was to blame for hi! Td =:"■::?'' "'^ '°^^ -^ "- -Aiciently^Ltr^ and cor...uent. Once a woman has confessed her iov.. and permitted the fond embrace, the true anrcourLo T.f 'J P^'^^'O": and if he doubts, says ZZZ and defends his prize with the rights and might of cap u e' mpnf 7,""" i"'-'^" > ""u rn^uiicd high-spirited manage- mem. It was not enough that David had killed the Queent MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 1.25 ■^ ill ^-^ IM 1. 1^ ■ 6.3 2.2 us. _ 2.0 luuu i.8 1.4 1.6 ^ >^PPLIED ir^MGE Inc 1653 East Main Street Rochester, New fork 14609 (716) 482 -0300 - Phone (716) 288- 5989 - Fax USA I ! '70 ube mbltc mm ot mmm great enemy for Lucy's sake, not the Queen's ; he should have held his own stoutly in London. Above all, he should not have given Lucy the smallest cause for jealousy. Havmg done so, however, it would have been wise and kind to have refrained first from piquing her curiosity and then woundmg her pride by references to Mary Lysons' beauty Nor was it judicious to plant in Lucy's mind a picture of himself tended by one whom she had at once regarded as a rival. "Jealousy is the sister of love, as the devil is the brother of angels." Lucy and David both loved; but with a difference, as we shall see. On that February day aforesaid. Sir Walter, with his little fleet and bold companions, sailed for Guiana. David Yarcombe, having the title of lieutenant, was berthed with the commander. Liberty Dent was the master ; and Sir Walter, Admiral of the Fleet. In those days admirals and generals, great lords and valiant knights, were content with quarters and with rations that would in our time not be considered good enough for an ordinary emigrant bound for New York. Hard fare and hard work were mates when the English pioneers were laying in the foundations of the Empire. David had become to Sir Walter almost as a son, and shared his full confidence. So the two paced the deck together, and watched the last flutterings of the scarves and ribbons on the Hoe as the fleet slipped out to sea. Liberty Dent kept an eye upon them and the shore, with something of a divided interest. He was sorry to leave behind him the fair and peaceful country, but glad to be with the great captain and the young lieutenant. As it is chiefly with the second voyage to Guiana that this present history has to do, it will only be necessary to glance at the chief incidents of this first expedition, one of whichjis^of prime importance in the eventful life of David \sxcGiuuc. It may, however, be noted by the way that m" Jibe mcQinwUxQ of Strange a&penture0 171 during the voyage Sir Walter discoursed with a grave particularity of the hones and prospects of the expedition. It was not only that he desired to create a rival empire of the Spaniards' as against Mexico and Peru, but to discover competing mines of gold and silver ; for he had always regarded such material wealth as the secret of their European power. Furthermore, Raleigh's colonv of Virginia occupied no unimportant place in his hop-.s of alliance with the kings and caiques of the New World which they were about to explore and possibly to govern. Success in Guiana meant success in Virginia; providing him, as it would, with both money and influence to prosecute that far-seeing venture. The expedition arrived at the island of Trinidad on the 22nd of March, 1595. The governor was that Don Antonio de Eerreo whose dispatches Sidmouth Trevelion had intercepted. It was an equally interesting occurrence that it was at Trinidad that the preacher-mariner, Trevelion, joined Sir Walter's forces. Trevelion was in great feather,' and commanded a far more disciplined crew than any of Sir Walter's ships could boast. Trevelion was furthermore enabled to inform Sir Walter that de Berreo had laid a trap for him. Sir Walter did not need to be reminded of the fact that in the preceding year de Berreo had behaved with cruel severity to his representative, Captain Whiddon. Trevelion, fanatic as he was, and hating de Berreo for that he was a Spaniard and a persecuting Papist, nevertheless was careful to be sure of his ground before he convicted him of a plot to lure Sir Walter into a condition of false security, that he might put him and his men to the sword. Once, however, the secret of de Eerreo's treacherous scheme was made manifest, Trevelion agreed with his chief that it were best to anticipate the governor's plot, bv an attanV iir^nri Uia /^it-t, ^c c t r . i ■> , . ^j — -.— .5 11,0 ^i^j VI ^aii J user, ana maKe nmi prisoner. i *•( 172 Ube mbiu mis Of mmoa No time was lost in putting this resolve into action It was an easy victory, and for certain of de Benlc^s prisoners a happy one. Sir Walter liberated five InZ ca,ques whom he discovered bound together in o^e chain Ihey had been treated with horrible cruelty. De L;''!" execm,oners had basted the bodies of the wretched prince tires T r^^r" ^"'""'"^'' *^» '° °*" ''-bL tortures, to enforce from them the secret hiding-nlace of fte^^r treasures and the locality of certain suspe'cted gold the gratitude of these dusky princes, who were men of h.gh character and nobility among their people. Having had de Berreo conveyed to his own ship a pnsoner S.r Walter assembled the chiefs ashore ^'nd described h,s m ssion from the Virgin Queen of England he powerf^al catque of the North, who had more ifder^ tlr ttrinl"!:'''' '^'^^ '"« Castilians, by reason o tL coasTs of thf M T'''°"- ^''^ '"•' ^''^^Jy resetted the coasts of the Northern world from Spanish dictation ■ from at ''"'k'"" '° ''"' "'™' ^''°' ^"'^ '° defend Gil' from a Spanish invasion. He spoke to them of the dTeds of Cortes m Mexico, and the PiWos in Peru; and at tht ^ame ime contested their selfish and cruel government! etr attemot'"to" T"™'" ^'"^^"''''^^ '^"^-8^' how- ever attempt to slur over the reality of the Encli^h tnem for the development of the natural treasures of their county, ; but he pointed out the advantages to hem and Its word hated oppression, worshipped a merciful God respected the religious beliefs and the ma mer ^J customs of other peoples, and so on. It was anTddre"s intended not only for the chiefs ,nH .h,.v r^,,!... f °' i Ztc aseoiimiitg of Strange HOrentures 173 for Sir Walter's own men ; and as the interpreter made his points, the chiefs signified their high approval, and Sir Water as he spoke to the interpreter, was applauded by the English crews, Trevelion and Liberty Dent givintj emphatic endorsement of the several advantages to be reaped from an alliance with the great English Queen against the remorseful tyrant of Spain and his vile emissaries. De Berreo took his defeat with cheerful philosophy. He bowed, he said, to the fortunes of war. Sir Walter treated him with great consideration. He and Sir Walter and David had much pleasant conversation together captain Trevelion had twice left his ship to dine at Sir Walter s t.ble. If he h.d been unable to maintain a perfectly calm and courteous demeanour on these occasions, he had nevertneless refrained from denouncing to his face the crmies of Sir Walter's prisoner. David had found the Spaniard an agreeable companion. The young lieutenant coiiM speak a little Spanish, and sufficient Italian, of which de Berreo was a master, to make the time pass quickly. David had the privilege of being de Berr ../s gaoler as long as he was detained. ^ Both to Sir Walter and David the captive, governor related many strange things of Guiana, and spoke enviously of Sir Rale.gh s prospects of discovering, if not capturing, the golden city of Manoa. "First, we must find Guiana," said Sir Walter. "\ few days' journeying, and you will enter its magic borders," replied de Berreo. ^ "If 'tis so near, and so easy, signor," David remarked, thkhir?" " ^°''' countrymen have not yet penetrated "We are on the way, most honourable cabaleros " de Berreo answered, with a smile. " Would to heaven we might march hand in hand ! " '" ais not within the bounds of the possible that Satan •?4 ttbc TObitc mng of /Kanoa and the angel Gabriel can become allies," said Trevelion who was sming by. smoking a pipe and contempt g"h^ .hr,!hf '^ 7 '°?'""'^ ^'"""■" "^^ »^"«° ^n^'vered. turning flarte\. It °" ''"^^'"™' " ""<' "-^hed under o^! nag— the sacred banner of Spain ! " "A truce to religious controversy," said Sir Walter of Ouiana— by your leave, friend Trevelion " ;; As you please," said his comrade, refilling his pipe, th. 1 ^''" "'"'^''>' ■■erainded," said de Berreo. "that the learned Spaniard, Don Rinaldo de Bouilk hath Tot^ heT^"'^" '' r ^"^ °^ '"^ Oarde„"of kde frZ thf Gu.ana.ans. 'tis said, claim to be descended from the sun and moon. 'Tis a strange theory of de Bou,lla, who was monk and warrior, philosopher and d^mer, that the garden will one day 1^ discovered in Gutana, and w.thm its sacred groves the Tree of Life "To the roots of which some fanatic don will lay his .acnleg,ous axe," remarked Trevelion, blowing a Ihfck cloud about his head, "as the Church of Rome andcIs.L hath sought to despoil the Christian world of God^ parad.se-v,ho.,e Only begotten Son they dethrone, to :Xie:?:.%rd^r'^^-""°^"-p'>-^"^pop^s _'■ Nay. nay, Trevelion ! " protested Raleigh. I cry you mercy," replied Trevelion, rising and, with a formal bow to de Berreo, ordered his boat to be bwe ed ^fo^rck! '' "''' "' "'-' ^"'"^ *^ •>"'- ^-<^- Of Tnf ""'f ; '^'^ "P '" ^" *^' ^^^ b««" «ri«en of the Incas of Peru and the wealth of Mexico, that before the conquests of Cortes and the Pi.arros seemed n^ Ic't ^bc :BcglminQ ot strange adventures 175 fabulous than the stories of Guiana and the golden city questioned de Berreo upon many controversial points of the narrative of his own travels, and the reports of others tha were m the archives of Castile. He may have sus- pected his enforced guest of a desire to flatter his researches seeing that he pressed him closely in regard to the nature and character of the travellers whose reports he had quoted, ihe captive governor had strengthened his assurance of smcemy m the information he vouchsafed by presenting Sir Walter with an example of the precious metal of Guiana and the handicraftsmanship of the goldsmiths of Mauoa m an exquisitely ornamented box, said to have been used by the favourite wife of the Inca of Manoa as a receptacle t\l ^^^'"'^"^^^^^^'"^^^t. It is possible, nevertheless, that m all this de Berreo may only have desired to stimulate the avarice of the Englishmen ; that, undaunted by the terrible experiences in store for them, they might still push on, and eventually become victims to the climate or the savage tribes they would have to encounter; or if they returned their forces would be so weakened that they might become a prey to the Spanish vengance. He had, however, a charm of mar ner and ingenuousness of speech, and he tendered his information so much more at the desire of his interlocutors than with the aplomb of the raconteur, that it was almost impossible not to believe him. "To you, most honourable captain and knight," said de Berreo, ' tis superfluous information that many of the cities of Guiana are rich as those of Mexico and Peru. Is it not written, and have you not sent your advance messengers to be assured of these things ? " p 1 '^r'!Tf" "°' '° ''^'"^ ^" °^ "^y messengers," said Raleigh ; ;' if 'twere only for the sake of Captain Whiddon, I might be justified in taking your head." ^^ "I kiss your hand, and cry you mercy." de Berreo rPnl.VH Had 1 been the cruel monster yonder Indians wouldW 176 TOc wiibfte iftinij Of mmoa 5f •:.rr;.-r-s :: :«- c«. nor to seize despatches of mine on their way io my Zl gracious and rehgious King." ^ °'^ "^11 the same," Sir Walter replied, "were I at thi. de Be.eo repCd. ^^"a s™n^^ ''™'°"^^' ^''^"='"'°"'" ' dead men do no^ bite ' " ^ ^P'"''"* P™^"''' ">"' hiJ'b^^rner'^'l"' ^^''^'^'"•"/"P^ded de Berreo, doffing h^nd whil T ""■ ';°"' '^*'°^- ^^™'' "^ '° kiss you7 nand, while I vainly endeavour to exores.: mv h;„K appreciation of your unmeasured consider!:": » ' '' Soon afterwards, at Cumana, Sir Walter seni his most engagmg and self-possessed guest ashore. An I had the handling of him," said Trevelion "he should have sojourned on my ship as hostage for he good trt::". ' '"^'^ ^"-^ ^"""'^ ^^--' >>- f-'her cou'^^eous!""" "'" " "'"^ *"^^^ "^ "'^^ - "^ -- CHAPTER II "BUT NOW THE HAND OF FATE IS ON THE CURTAIN" T EAVING the ships at anchor in the Gulf of Paria -L^ the mam body of the exploring party, one hundred men commenced their river voyage for Manoa in a galley one barge two wherries, and a ship's boat, victualled for a month. In our day, for a trip, even on some well-known river, such a holiday-looking company would have carried tents and bedding, waterproof sheets, a perfect equipment of cookmg utensils, and everything necessary to make life not only bearable, but luxurious under all circumstances. As It was, setting aside such an impossible furnishing in those days, the boats were overladen with furniture, stores, clothmg, arms ammunition, and other things necessary to the novel undertaking. But, with ever so careful a con- sideration for contingencies, the expedition had to undergo apart from the perils of land and water in a barbarou^ country the fatigues of heavy labour under ctdmo. which have been amply described in historic records Crossing twenty miles of stormy water, they were for a time entangled in the many branches of the Orinoco; the particular branch th.t retains the name being, even in these days of Victoria, more or less unexplored. As for the golden city, de Berreo and the Indians said it could be reached from the point on the Orinoco belonging to the aged King Carapana; or from the more distant Morequito *H^r^ the u.euibcrs of one of de Berreo's "'expeditions] 177 xa fli ■ 1 1' ^78 ubc TOblte fs father, the sun, had manifested unto him be »,? TT u' 'u' ''^'' "'"'' ">°"S'' >"■» «™P''« should be attacked, he should save it. . . . "A strange people! Their women, 'tis said, are brave as the Amazon nation, and more beautiful. As a man grows old, he passes through many marvellous experiences. to hjs father; first, however, by his forethought, having guarded the golden city, and secured his successor agaTn"? surprise and therefore against defeat. The present C .s an old man and sickly. One, who had sojourned " the nearest border city, assured ^e that while the Inca was bed-r,dden, he, this Guiana..,, had seen the l"', zZn^T K : "'" °' ''"' ^"""^-^ '"'^ ^ -Chariot :; greet the tributary nations, who had sent their chiefs to fable offheT'"' ""' .'"' ""^^ ' '•^^^ "°' '^""•''^d the fable of the Amazon nation, where all are women, and carry spears and carouse, like my own warriors " .Jl Tk'"'' '''P°"'^'"g '» 'he old King's encouraging smile the women laughed ; and the men grunted the"r surprise and fingered their spears. tJ^T' •t!?^^''' ^^ ^'^'''^^' 'he garrulous old Ki„. then described the golden city ; not the result of persona! knowledge, nor fr^,> the lips of any who had seenTbu from tradition, that had ever been busy with its wonders and was approved by the demonstrations of its a™; emerging once in so many moons, and for which the King had the evidence of Guianaians who had visited hi ! -two of them were still sojourning in his city. The people 1 84 tCbe mmte mm or /©anoa 11 oTsUf^lVlr™''™''"""- They lived in houses buil, OJ stone, with many rooms, ornamened with pictures and tues wrought in gold and silver. 1„ the ce« e of the Sd' o thTTut' "tIT' T' ^' ^ '-p'« ^^^ side, on a Lon"e tha U:^^^ t^f "'^ ^^' "^ "'' gems. There were worSs t gl rnTXer'Trd T I'.ng-s garden employed both slaves and free m'nTh! slaves had feasts and holidays; and it was Lch ^' •/ ™.ght rival the heaven S.dmou'th Treth™ had desXd' Nor dST'd "" ""'^ '""^ •'"'P^ --^ golden Stat wh hadtottrfX::?'""'' °^"''°"^ '» ^^'^'^^ -d footsteps or^rrou^^Ter^'jir r recently mastered the newest chronicles ^fthl ^, ''""' capt^e Of the Peruvian city of Cu'^tpi™^ "~ m all the world, 'tis said," remarked the Kine « ther. Now beyond this interesting information so eloquentlv conv^ed by the grand old King (not to membn the with de Berreo and afterwards released with gifts gL him an account of a silver mine on the banks of the clrolT wonderful falls of Caroni and th. .i,.„, k!„-_! ^1" *^ ''Ubc Danb of jfate Is on the Curtain" is. Sidmouth Trevclicn was given command of the little com- pany commissioned to explore the silver mines, with David Yarcombe as his lieutenant. The weather we. u , that could be desired for both ' excursions. Treveli^. selected one of the most roomy of the boats and carried supplies of the daintiest, the offering chiefly of Kmg Topiawari. Such primitive mining tools as they possessed, supplemented by others presented to them by the Kmg, were carefully stowed away, not forgettinr such arms as might be required in case of need ; while David, at the request of Trevelion brought his lute, and at the suggestion of Sir Walter, certain instruments of a scientific character that might be useful in the testing of metals ; so that the expedition, in the speculative know- ledge of those days, was well, not to say luxuriously, equipped The boat put off in presence of the King and his Court, which included his wives and the mistresses of his officers several of them no less beautiful and comely than the wife of the caique of the Carib nation at one of the ports at the mouth of the Orinoco, of whom, in his notes of the voyage, Raleigh had written for posterity (he lost none of his diaries), " I have seldom seen a better-favoured woman She was of good stature, with black eyes, fat of body of an excellent countenance and taking great pride therein I have seen a lady in England so like her, as, but for the differerce of colour, I would have sworn might be the same." But it was left for David Yarcombe to discover the most ravishing beauties of the New World. Alas, poor Lucy Withycombe! ^ 11 CHAPTER III CONCERNING THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF DAVID YARCOMBE T F Manoa was a city no less beautiful than the heaven X of Trevehon's imagination, the banks of the Caroni might have been those of a river running through the plains of that same Paradise. Raleigh seemed to have renewed his youth. He had hitherto been only a poor footman, but now he walked with as quick and sturdy a step as his followers. He frequently conversed with i^iberty Dent upon the prospects of a great English iimpire of Guiana, with a wise and benevolent government emp oying the native chiefs in the highest offices of State' a mild protectorate ; armed, however, to its utmost against bpain, and with Manoa and its adjacent mines as the mighty source of its ammunition.- « No, not saltpetre Master Dent," he added, « not iron or steel, not arquebuses and spears and bucklers and matchlocks and cannon • but gold, Master Dent, gold, which means all these things and more; s;old--that is the motive power of Castile the mam strengtn of Spain all over the world." The pioneers pushed on as far as the great cataract, now known as the Salto Caroni. Here they beheld the wonderful breach of waters which coursed down Caroni, and might from that mountain see the river, how it ran in three parts above twenty miles off; and there appeared some ten or twelve waterfalls in ci^kf « , . , x86 * /IDysterlous 2)i6appcarance of S)avl& 187 over the other as a church turret, which fell with such fury that the rebound of waters made it seem as if it had been all covered over with a great shower of rain; and in some places they took it at the irst for a smoke that had risen over some great town. Passing into the valley beyond, the country proved to be more and more beautiful. Deer crossed every path. Birds, at eventide, were singing on every tree. Cranes, and herons of white, crimson and carnation, perched in flocks by the river's side. The air was fresh, with a gentle easterly wind; and everv stone lying loose in the sandy ways promised, by its complexion, either silver or gold. The summer was almost over when they returned to the anchorage of their boats, hoping to find Trevelion and his officers and men awaiting them, with news of the silver mine and the frontier town bordering upon the golden city. Days, however, passed without tidings of their comrades — days, weeks, until the river began to swell and the lightnings of the tropical winter flashed overhead. At last when they had begun to despair and take counsel together upon the desirability of making for the ships and leaving the silver expedition to the care of King Topiawari or some other friendly chief, there reappeared part of the famished crew, Trevelion at their head, a weary, travel-worn, gaunt company, with unkempt locks, and more than one or two of them maimed and wounded. They had a disastrous story to tell, not the least melancholy part of it the disappearance of David Yarcombe and their Indian pilot On the way to the mines they had encountered un- expected opposition; not from the natives, but from a company of Spanish explorers, who had just overborne the Caronian miners and their guard. These Caronians were and a foriress, it seemed, a few leagues away. Now 1 88 trbe MWtc mm of mnoa ITZ"^ nfuf"'^" ■"'""'' •«" T'-««™ ^solved tions might be secure. Thl C ieft in h" ?"" pilot and three sailors h.^f K ''^^'"^^ °^ ^'^^ t^ uirce sailors, had been moored well off fK^ banks m cas2 of attack. Not that th^r. fear T'K^ .- , ' ^"^^^ was reason for rear. ihe natives whom thpv Ko^ c'*'>ua lor friendly, and thev hL ^ encountered were v^v> «inu tney had passports from ]^,r.„ ^r • that ensured them the help of bo h ^^iri.? h*"'""" of the local chiefs. ^ ^"'^ warriore featd r: ;^i::g™ r^f.t "^ '"r^"^ ''"<' '■<'• t- prisoned the 'em de escal7 tl^' '^"'"^ the. e„te.d ,He mine and STd^tt^l Tlhf smallest indica^on of w fmLit T "'T''' "" ""= tKefrt/r '^- - — ed"- Lts ■'. ■ ic nver. Une of them traced evidences of , „ that might have been <;i^n. .^™^'^''^ °' a struggle David and his -=n t^M, ^ ^" '""°"'"" between fessed that he r I 'i 'T'' ''" '''^'^^"o" -o"- days, with littte tto f 7 °i "• ™^y *^"=d 'hree Spa^r SCrtl r- - r e dead SO thev hnripH fK^^ 11 ^'irrying tne bars away : c ? "^^ ^^^"^' ^" except one (which w,>h / reu'r Thtn mi" 7''''"' '" ''''"'' '" <^^^ ^e should Then, full of sorrow and fearful of meetin. =„ /»1?stcrlou0 S>i0appearance of 'Bavlb 189 enemy who might be too powerful for them, they began their journey back to the anchorage which they had only a few days before quitted in high spirits. They had encountered many perils by the way, but had never despaired, though they had eaten of no natural food during many days. With the aid of Master Trevelion's great experience, they had been able to select such roots and leaves as had kept body and soul together. So weakened had they become thereby, that they had nearly fainted under the weight of the Spanish arms and the one bar of silver. It was possible they might have found a better route, had they not been anxious to avoid the Spanish quarters. But here they were, at last, God be praised ; and they hoped for the approval of their great captain, which, needless to say, they promptly obtained. Trevelion praised the Lord that they had been enabled to give a good account of the enemy, and prayed that David and their other comrades might be safe in His merciful hands ; whereupon, he and his fellows sat down to a welcome meal, over which they continued to relate their adventures by the way ; how everywhere the natives had disappeared, no doubt in consequence of the advent of a Spanish force ; how Trevelion had been anxious to push on lest some mishap had overtaken the boats, and also with a view to take counsel with Sir Walter for discover- ing their comrades— alive as he hoped ; if dead, to give them Christian burial. The Trevelion section of the expedition slept soundly that night ; but Raleigh made no attempt to close his eyes. He pored over maps and charts, and worked out problems, contemplating various contingencies ; and then, lighting his pipe, sat and smoked, and at break of day could happily modify his plans, by reason of the arrival of the remainder of the silver expedition— all, alas, except David Yarcombe and the pilot. iheir story was more or less vague, and wholly '90 trbe mbitc mxQ or manoa unsatisfactory. On their way to the river they had come upon an Indian bivouac. The natives were journeying to tTe aty of a friendly chief. At first, they had come om S hem; but the heutenant giving them to understand that they were not Spaniards, but deadly foes to such, and exhibitmg the passport of King Topiawari, the Indians welcomed them with many proofs of generous hospitality and-contrary, they admitted, to the desire of the lieutenant -they sat down and caroused with their new-found friends of hit felllwT """ "' ''"'' • " "^' ^'^ <^hief mouthpiece ''And the wine was sweet and powerful," added another. So we stayed all night with the natives: and their women had teeth white as pearis, and their complexions was more copper-coloured than the women of King Tooia- wari," said the third. ^ ^^ " It was a revolt ! " exclaimed Sir Walter, « a mutiny that deserved death. Your comrades were engaged with the enemy, while you were getting dnink-and worse " « w'^K^'Z" f'"^ "^' ^"""^ ""'" '^'' '"'""t^'" ^as the reply. We had only been too happy to have had our fling at the knaves, be they what they might; even the men, whose mouths and heads are in their breasts." Sir Wdtr "''' ""'^^ '^'^ ''''"^'^ ^^""^ ""^^^ °^ >'°"'" ^^d The remainder of the story is soon told. David Yarcombe left the men at the Indian bivouac, and went aboard the boat alone. The next morning, naming one of the three sailors as his representative in command, he sent them to fetch in the mutineers. They were ordered to persuade the tit in T? '" 't'" ^"'^^ '"^' '^"^"S ^h^^' t° bring them m by force. The revellers obeyed the lieutenant's orders and took leave of their entertainers, several of whom however, accompanied them to the river. The boat had disappeared. It was the same storv as the nth.r. r.u.^A /Bsstcrfous ©isappcarancc of 2>avto 191 with tv addition that the Indians ran back to their bivouac and returned carrying a light canoe, in which they made an excursion down the stream, but came bacic without havin! seen or heard anything that might explain the my t ry' The nver had swollen considerably in the night, and Z stream was running rapidly. The Indians examined the river where the boat had been anchored and moored, and m de s.gns that seemed to indicate thei, belief that cr^codiler^d sotls the""' " r '""^' "'^ '""'' ' ^' '-'• '"at wa^ so far as the men understood them. After waiting several days-unt.l indeed, the Indians broke up their camp-They proceeded homewards. Thanks to the information of the Indians and the assistance of one of them as a guide they had been lodged and fed at an Indian village a^ly^ journey from Aromaia. and since then had travelled through a country that^ one of them said, Captain Sidmouth Trevelion would surely have described as "a land flowing with mUk and honey/ This delicate compliment fo CapTa „ Trevehon's b.bhcal aptitude of quotation served, no doubt lutTf "'' P""''^*'"^"' Sir Walter, after consultation' with h.s famous comrade, deemed it right and expedient to mflic upon the mutineers, as he called them ; though their mouthpiece, with all humility, ventured to urge That the term was more severe than their offence warranted. At the same tune they expressed themselves deeply in the wrong and wilhng to die, if need be, seeing that it might possibly be their default that had brought about the disaster to the lieutenant's boat-though they hoped, and prayed with Captam Sidmouth Trevelion, that the Ueutenant yioLt ■ be met with, steering " homeward bound » It w-as not without a shudder that Sir Walter had heard ttoth! fT ^n 'T^'"'''' *^ ^'Sns of the Indians as to the fate of David and the pilot. Hitherto, the only disaster that bad befallen fh» «.„»^:,:„_ .- • . ' J , ^" - ■■ -.^-i-^^vtwii WU3 ill its earliest days, when a young negro, swimming in the river Lagartos, '93 XTbe mmtc mxi^ of mama was devoured by a crocodile. This fatal occurrence might have led the men to think of it in trying to clear up the mystery of the lost boat and its commander. Ihe expedition had encountered almost every kind of river life during the voyage, and the crocodile was familiar to them on the Orinoco. Sir Walter would not permit himself to believe that David could have been lost. In his estimation his young friend was worth any twenty pilots ; and, for that matter, any number of his men His chief fear was that he might have fallen into the hands of Spaniards ; and they could be worse fiends than crocodiles. His best hope was that the moorings of the boat had been b-oken by the sudden rise of the river, and that, becoming unmanageable, it had eventually been carried to some other point of safety. He was loth to leave the lad behind ; but there was no help for it. The rainy season had now set in. They had already delayed their return journey longer than they should have done Ihe river was flooded. There were gusts of wind and rain. The men were continually wetted through. The ships were a hundred miles away. With a heavy heart Raleigh set his face homeward, in spite of a raging wind, the boats ghded down the Orinoco at the rate of a hundred miles a day. Arrived, once more, at Morequito, Topiawari, the King paid Raleigh a parting visit. Sir Walter took counsel with him and his chiefs upon the disappearance of his lieutenant, David Yarcombe, and the pilot with whom they had iurnished him. They were inclined to think that, attacked by the Spaniards, the pilot and David, after an attempt to defend themselves against overwhelming numbers, had steered for a safer point of the stream Although they had news of the increasing activity of their enemy along the Orinoco and its branches, they were surprised to hear of a fortress and bivouac near the silver /ftBstcrtous Bfsappcamuce or v>mi> .93 ."he"K,r tJ'TS Another contingency occurred to on tHe. :U^: tf^e t:^° Ir rT'ShtT possible thai they had captured the h' u" „ant TV up m the mind of Sir Walter strange sSaio'l ^> " - accom , H„ents were calculated ^^i^Z^^^J^^ such as he imagined the Manoans mirrht be HnH r n'.-.H. hate >^:^slVl:\:T':Xry' ZT'' surrounded him t^,.- • ., "Mystery that now i^ain.f fK . Topiawari smiled an amused protest a sudden riKh of fi "^PP^'is. The truth was that, in of tintr David's irK T*^ "^ ""'"'"^ <^°™ "^ ^ "-- anchorless ^ ^^t 'l^Z '^V^ '^ ^^.H' ":r:::^"^it^::rer^^^^^ the King and Sir wT .. "'^ ^^^'"^ ^"^' ^^'le good Christian. "^^ '^^P^ o^ a CHAr'T.R IV HOW SIR WMJ^K CAME HOME TO SHE^HQRNE, AND LUCY WITHYCOMiiii kETUKNED TO HER NATIVE VILLAGE 1 F David had been present, Sir Walter's second sojourn X at Morequito would have been a most happy expori- ence. The chief and his two principal officers, Trevehon and Liberty Dent, fairly captured the love of Topiawari and h.s officers. They undertook under any circumstances to send out search parties after the lieutenant. Trevelion's report of the incursi )n of Spaniards in the regions of the Carom had confirmed them in their belief that the enemy contemplated an attack on their country. They evidently api 'cciated the Raleigh mission, which was to forestall the Spaniards. Topiawari had no fear for the bravery of his o^^n people ; but the arms and equipment of the Spaniards, their increasing numbers, and the reports of their tremen- dous power excited, not a cowardly fear among them, but an honest dread. The Spaniards had already planted their outposts for the conquest of Guiana, and he would gladly assist Raleigh and his men to forestall them, more particularly in a march on Macuregnarai, a rich city, fuli ot statues of g.ld, the conquest of which he would undertake If Raleigh would leave fifty men, to defend him from the vengeance of the Inca of Spain. They discussed the politics and nature of Guiana generally, and a method oi obtaining access to the heart of the country. Ralei-h compromised wirh the chief's proposal by a promise °o 194 *ov<. sir taaltcr Came ftomc .„ wturn in the followine year Tt,» ^i,- r hi» sons to Raleigh's Lr^ I^ ? "' ="'"'' ''^ ""« of Francis SparroJrfo raCel n h "'' "'' '"• ■■"" ""' Hugh Good. ..oneonh b" of^"'^^*"^ """"^ "• of his o , „„,_ ,„ , J^",,. Of he «pe.d.t,o„. „™a,„ed ob.a-:nr:rt:;t~^ conclusion that he had L* "".""' """^ "^"^'^ =" "-e addition to the fortune, Z\ r.""" °' " ""gnificent country. They l^^d a 1? ^ .^"''"' """"«''• ""^ "is 'hei- ta,t, and g!?,e s" '^''"1,.'™"''"='°'"^ ™yage in ^f.e, conside4 ^h^Tal J ofriaSr rv""- to rd.eve the settlers therp XiL u . ^ '" Virginia headed his ships fo S'l"t""'"r^''"°'"^^'''"• Cun,ana (where he had lefti „^*'"e/^f"'«d ™PPhes at =" Rio de' ,a Ha ha he a ked Z'f' '' f " ''"^'' ""'^ "0 booty; and was^o.e gal ate r'tl "' '"' '°"'' poorer than when he left it h,» Z. 5""' ""«^'' future. During his absenLt ';"''' ««« hopes of the abilities, looked' t:!ZZ^Z'' H' ' f '"^ 'T °^ "^^ been untiring in their eelr tI u . "^""^' ''^'' "'^o would neyer come ttck to I ', ^f '"'^''''^ "«« ^e through his en."rprte it „o M ."' """' '' "^ "^^^ Spain. This Span ^ ^1! ^ •'' '"^ ^^™« °f It is terrible to hinkho7.r ' '""°" '"^'=""°"- Character and ambi^n „° t^'V^d^ °PP°^"^ "^ " "-'» Cecil led the way to dSts of th. ' ''""^' """• minerals which Raleieh haH k k f ""'"'"«» of the A London alderman Lt^^"^^' ''°"'' f«"» Guiana, pronounce one of he sne "" "^'^ °' "'^ «'« «o ever, check^rd J V~" a""!;^ ' "' "=*'• ''<"'■ Dulmore Dimoke, Ld Pataer' cZT^:''^'' "="""' """^ who pronounced It " very rTch » o^ "', °' *' "'"'• ported that the mineral, LTkL. °*" °l'".'""''«o« '«- It was furthermore hinted t^arK:,:;^':^ Z^ ^96 Ubc mbitc mm ot mama Guiana at all, but had been all the time lying snugly m some Cornish harbour, Cecil would make no move whatever m the direction of planting Guiana. The illus- , tnous pioneer, discredited and slandered on all hands wrote a book in his defence, entitled m Disc fesigna- 'eetion of heT f"o ■ h °t ,r„t?f1-"^\''^ '"« -°'- entirely belied her heart f„rf ? "'' *^ ^''''i'^h had if she might nevtr see Mm Lt 7' ''', """ '™'^' -<» [-is sa.e. and cheri.hr2o:rtrl'7ll^n^ arm about her "thit tTu u ^"'"^'Sh's sympathetic that was not his < Oh fori ^ "'' '^ ^'"^le thought } could ten him so, tS-t'/^M c Xs itTt ''''' '^^ SorHrrtfihe^o -^ ""-^"^ 4 and endow m th^rr"" """'' "^ "^^ ^'^'^'^ for suitors the beT Jhk °"'" S'^'"'- ^"^ give me Dear Lady tlT^'hr Sw^Vrssle^r ' / ''°"''' ""'• *■» hie me back to Littleham anH >• ^''™'=''"«°" ' I ■ny days in memorv nf k' "^ "'^ remainder of I do ,L my" eribrX'r/ '''""''■ «"• <^earest, youa'Jr^ilVagS^";"^" ''''°"'- ^Vhy.mychild. overmuch; and be tsurli' "°' '^'^ Christian to mourn not so soo; yielded UD Li, ^°" '°'" "^^'- G°d has them. VV,,,!? i ,"P ''.''. ''^"'ces to the world that need, orsurprising'pa;rb::v::i:Ze:. ,tb1:r '°''-""'' 198 Ube OTblte IkUxQ of /IDanoa " God bless Sir Walter ! " murmured the girl, mopping her face, that was wet with tears and pale with her efforts to put on a spirit of resignation. " Be cheered, dear heart ! " said Bessie. " Our Walter's search parties of the friendly Indians even now may have found him, and his ship have already sailed for home." " You are very kind to me," said Lucy. " I was ungrate- ful to you. Oh, but he should have known how a girl disguises her own passion, only to whet her lover's vows and protestations ! Why did I not give myself to him body and soul, and never falter ? My love was great and deep enough, had he only known. Ch ! why did not some guiding voice of love whisper it into my heart ! " And then she burst out crying afresh. Lady Raleigh had no more gauged Lucy's capacity of love and devotion than David himself; and she wai fain to catch the pathos of the girl's grief, and weep along with her burning tears of sympathy. Presently Lucy dried her eyes, and looking up with a sad smile, said : " I will go home to my father at Littleham, and cheer his remaining days ; and help to make Little- ham and Exmouth the happier for my misery, and be a good and patient Christian woman." And soon afterwards, Lucy Withycombe returned to her native village, and continued to abide there all the re- mainder of her days. »00ft V THE GOLDEN CITT OF MJNOJ CHAPTER J THE VOICE OF MANY WATERS ■pV AVID'S peril was in the ferocity of the current more J-/ than in any danger from natives or Spaniards. In mid-stream it rose above the general flow of the river He had heard of such a phenomenon as belonging to a certam condition of the Severn, in England. It differed however, in the fact that the Guianaian river was freth water. H,s great fear was that its denouement was in some aiighty waterfall. He strained every nerve to keep out of the torrent. P A ^^\ ^'."? ^^^' '"^ "^""'^ ^^'^ °"^ °^^' ^hich had to 6e both rudder and propeller, David was continually in difficulties. His boat swung round in spite of him, and now and then fairly danced upon the stream Once he feared he was to be the victim of a whirlpool. But he never gave up hope. When now and then he ran into ^o.T 7.T' /''' ^'"^ '^' ^"^"^"^^ °^ ^^§h banks and rocky defiles, he was enabled to take a little rest and food Happily, he had plenty of provisions as well as arms and" ammunition; all the original stores indeed were inf^.t except the few that had been exhausted during the voyage! 199 S\ 200 Zbc TObltc mm of manoa 111. J 11 ■ n ■ I \ ; Rarely had he seen indications of human life on the banks and they were incidents of Indian villages or encampments' Canoes had put off, as if in chase ; but without coming up to him, either fearing the stream or the supernatural bemg they had imagined him, a canoeist who, in a strange and vast boat, skimmed the great waters as if bound head- long for the mighty falls which they knew to be ahead of him, one of the great water-defences of the golden city. The third day of his perilous voyage saw a diversion of the waters, a meeting of rivers, and a swirling that impeded the progress of the boat. It was as if several branches of the Orinoco had assembled to discuss the question of precedence. The boat was drawn hither and thither; now backward, now forward. With the skill of a Devonshire sea-dog and the courage of his race, he faced the new difficulty with calmness and a watchful eye upon what appeared to be a rift in the rapids, that pointed to a reach of comparative quiet. He put his little vessel about, and then with an ingenious manipulation of his long sweeping oar steered for the Orinoco's gentlest ally. The calmer depths, fringing the boisterous rapids, might have been likened unto lookers-on of the battle of the rivers, that lashed themselves into foam while the under-currents stole away from the central stream This vast body of waters, pelting on towards the mighty falls, made the great lake of Manoa inaccessible, except by secret ways guarded and protected beyond all possible discovery, even by the most cunning of explorers. To reach those calmer depths David fought the opposing rapids. With a last despairing push, and a cry to God for help, he made the haven. Emerging from the per- turbed meeting of the rivers, he found himself in what appeared to be a landlocked bay of fresh, clear water fringed with sands that might have been the dunes of a tropic sea, rather than the shelving banks of lake or Ubc t) cc of /iDanp Maters 201 river, so gemmed was the shore with shells and radiant Z:t *Vh"" '""'"^ '''' "^"'"« ^'-^ with buds td flowers Ihis was a marvellous change from the dank and we,rd foliage that had hitherto margined the rit"s banks mterlaced with roots of trees tluLt had put Tu .entacles and feelers into the stream, a. if they migh hav^ been the arms of some kind of newly discovered bctopus There had been alternating incidents of muddy creeks and m^rva^s of slimy haunts of the crocodile. The wtl ' unnv h r'f'"' ^'^"''^'' ''^™"'''ad scoured out he w rtheth /"' "^^'"'-'"'^d *e tropic vegetation w th the debris of a rocky flood. It was thus converted mto a sandy oasis. >-""vcr[ca the^sL'^ni-r "7\7 '"^ '"■g'>'y f««^t. that towered to bunrhZ ''^'/.'^'"' <^"""". embellished at intervals with bunches of fruits or flowers, the character of which was sprang from an under-world of vegetation, out of which creeping plants and trailing vines climbed o festoon thet orfotd t^e- ™™"^' ''' ^^^ "-^ -"^e iney necked the blue waters and the yellow sands with substance and with shadow, through whose fretted scree * fishes sailed with leisurely motion This great backwater appeared to come to an end in a creek, the aspect of which was a sudden change from he sandy bay. I, was blocked with dwarf palms 7nd and fc rn!^k T: ""'^' '''"'^'^ "' '^"" P""- icrn uKe trees. The sun streamed throueh ih^n, making patches of bright light upon green fofiage a^d fTT^^l "!^ f"- of *^ sleeping watts. A^d X t^f .— ^«. .ixxic i^avia saw the humming-bird. A flock nf th^,. sported about a great flowering pfan, PrfsenUy u: htd 2oa Ubc Mbite 1kim of /IDanoa 1(1 M a cooing that recalled the English wood-pigeon, and then his thoughts wandered homewards. Home ! Should he ever again see Exmouth or Littleham, or sail his boat over the Devon rivers? Strangely beautiful this tropic creek, with its humming-birds like flying gems ; but, oh, for the primrose banks of the Exe and the scented gardens of Littleham ! Beyond that reminiscent kind of cooing of the pigeon there was no sound of life, animal or human. David scanned the shore for the dreaded crocodile, or the less dangerous though formidable hippopotamus. Neither by the'»" presence nor their slimy traces could he detect any ev'^^ :nce of peril from either of these amphibious monsters. He moored his boat to a thick cluster of roots, and proceeded to light a fire on the banks and another in his brazier on the vessel, and then arranged the best means of defence he could invent in case of attack, either by beast or man. He had aboard, among his arms, three muskets besides his own, several " dags " or pistols, and a small brass cannon or culverin, that fired iron balls. It is a curious coincidence, in the light of a century or more after the days of David Yarcombe, that one of the very giants of the forest near v;hich he had moored his boat, containing the first gun ever seen in Guiana, should have been called the Cannon-ball tree {Couroupita Ginaensis). Its flowers, white and rose-colomed, were among the floral wonders with which the forest shut out the sky. Having loaded his weapons and placed them handy for immediate use, David sat down to make a meal of bread and fruits and dried meat, washed down by a certain native wine of the Indians and a draught of sack, part of one of the bottles that Raleigh had contributed from his galley. And now, down went the sun. It had been a ball of fire. It left behind a world of darkaess. Presently the stars came out, to be mimicked by a million nre-nies. XCbc IDolce of mm\^ Maters 203 They seemed to exhibit signals for the hTe and bustle of the tropic n.ght to begin. A rustle of many feet, a move- ment m the air, the cries of birds, deep-tongued growls of beasts of prey, in protest against the blaze of dS watch-fires. Then a thing occurred that startled him to his finger-tips : for, at least, he had deemed himself safe from Spanish soldiery. It was the booming of a cannon. The Spaniards t l^urope. The Indians knew nothing of it. The arquebuse, the musket, the "dag" even, were strange to them. Yet ^W.at e se could it be that for a moment stilled the noise of the forest and checked the vagaries of the fire-fly ? To this day, travellers in the deltp .f the Ganges, as well as m the more remote regions of Guiana, hear this midnight gun. They know such a thing cannot be. The white man holds his breath to listen ; the native hears the voice of the Great Spirit. While David sat by his watch- fires and strained every fibre of his system to make out wha the report might be, a plunge in the river of some amphibious beast set him fingering his musket and pre- paring his match. In a little while, however, the cries ashore were continued, the dancing wings of light again mocked the twinkling stars. For all that he could see beyond the illuminated sky or its reflection below, he mighl have been afloat between heaven and earth. At last, tired nature soothed the exile to sleep. But while the mortal part of him was at rest, the spirit was busy with Exmouth and Littleham, with Durham House and the Court of Elizabeth, but mostly with a certain cosy parlo. , where there was singing to the accompaniment of a lute, and the firelight played lovingly upon the face and figure of a sweet and dainty Devon maiden. And when D^vid awoke it was morning rfT" CHAPTER II DAVID DISCOVERS MANOA NOW it 'vas the time of the periodical descent of the chiefs and warriors of Manoa pon their outlying territory, as described to Sir Walter Raleigh and his comrades by King Topiawari. Their vanguard had heard of a strange, if not super- human vessel, rushing down the Orinoco, a white being on board, who guided the boat with god-like ease through the torrent. The Manoan chiefs had left the Inca, his Court, and the virgins of the sun praying their immortal god to avert the threatened catastrophe, that had been heralded, as they believed, by the darkening of the sun (for they did not, as yet, understand eclipses, except as fearsome omens), followed by other celestial portents, and by warning flights of birds. They knew that birds and beasts saw things that were hidden from mortal eyes, and that they fled before unseen enemies. The Inca was old, and stricken with a fatal malady. His favourite daughter, Zarana Peluca, heiress to the throne by reason of his solemn decree, was too young to undertake alone the reins of government, even with such aid from wise councillors as he had ordained. Nor was there any chief in all his empire upon whom she had yet cast an eye of favour, that should, by her marriage, give strength to the dynasty and a forceful power against Dapi5 Dtscopcr5 manoa ao5 wife, who had been exa ,ed L^ ""'" ^'""^^^ ^ side upon the tbronT^' T °"'^ '° "'" '^^' ''S' '"^ physical beauty lad ^n fo I " '"'"'^' ^^P^^''^ ""^ never held b/ a ira" 1'",^ ""","" ''" "^ '""^ empire. when/accoZgord'n'itTTf "^'^ "' "'^ by a heaven-sent queen as ubl 1 ^ -■ '" ^"''"'^'^ as she was divine ?„ h"; orign "BuUhe m""" '"' "^"^ sentimental and poetic peopif. ' "' ^""""^ '""' " The Inca's royal wife had recently died At h», u quies evil omens had made thp „J ®' °'''*' gloom and apprehenl^ "'"°" °"^ "^ '■"'«"» ^-nd^rth^rrutattartdt'^^-" ;^"et-;-s:yor7ro:;„™ powrr,a^ndinte Sorr T ','''" '""'"' -"> yet should he be humTnas'i '''"l^"'^ "' '^'"^ '"'"'^^'f; his offspring; eommred. Che b'eauHWnr d""^' ""' ^'^° of the earth; instructed in the Ss befl ?h '°''^^"'"'"' man, how to people ...d reptnl ft o b ^"''""k' °' anceandiovso lnn„ ,. .k '^ '^" "• 'o be their mherit- honesty X^TIZ^Z^ST^ :^' ''''" "'' and beast; obeyed the king ; 10^7^^'^'^'° """ man with woman in fr,„i, , j u ™'' ^"'^ ""a'ed tilling the z:z'7lzV:rr'rr''"'^''"y- lives; to which end they s ,d q Lkerbol' f V'"'^ eye to the use of the bow and the pT, ? Th T '"'* ttie field, the fish in the sea the hL? I ^ ^^' °' of the earth, he gave unto t'hl T '" *' ""' """ ''""^ ^^■sdom and moLationrbtS tZZ:"^::-^ >.u.npamonsh,p; birds likewise, also for the" g;;c; Jth^; 306 Ubc Mbite Iking of /IDanoa wing, the song in their throats, and the most beautiful region of the world for their dwelling-place. And !o, when the chiefs of the Inca came down to the backwater of the Manoan branch of the mighty Orinoco and saw David, they fell down and worshipped him; for surely, they said, this is he who was to come in the white livery of the sun, godlike of face, equipped with strange things. And so he might have been, by comparison, for they were dusky with the heat of the sun in their blood ; yet were they attired in garments of strange beauty : head- dresses of beaten gold, hammered and rolled as thin as linen, with aigrettes of shining plumage and pearls, sandals of fine tanned leather, shirts, or sarongs, of a textile delicate as silk, bows in their hands, sheaves of arrows at their backs, jewel-hafted knives in their belts. One troop was armed with spears. They were all men of medium stature ; none so tall as David, but stalwart of limb, and of hand- some, frank, and fearless countenances. But David, in his leather jerkin and embroidered vest, his linen collar turned back, showing his white throat, his conical-shaped hat with its shining buckle and defiant feather, his boots pulled up over his shapely leg as high as his thighs, his long sword in his decorated belt (for David had attired him in his best, to salute the day, and in natural expectation of visitors, hostile or otherwise), appealed to the imagination of the Inca's warriors as one ordained for the performance of miracles. When they fell at his feet, David with protesting gestures bade them rise. He spoke to them in the Indian language of Topiawari's people. One, who came forward evidently as interpreter, answered him in the same tongue, but with a rapidity that David could not follow. The Manoan commander interposed, in his native vernacular. David answered in Italian. Then the interpreter, bending low^ to 4-Ufk 5- ViQi an-u ahiiust ^ruytrating himself at the DaviO Dfacopcrfi /iDanoa «07 feet of David, modulated his voice from the high screech- >ng tones in which he had spoken the Indian tongue, and David found himself addressed in what sounded like a modification of Indian and Italian. He understood many words that were Indian, and replied again in the language of King Topiawari, but slowly, and asked the interpreter to do likewise. With a smile the native obeyed and pronounced each word with distinctness ; and David understood him and said so, to the great satisfaction of his visitors, who showed their white teeth and turned to each other to express their satisfaction. David soon discovered that the language of Manoa differed but little from the Indian, the chief difference lying in the softening of the consonants and in giving a melodious value to every vowel David gathered that they regarded him as the sun's imperial messenger to Guiana and Manoa ; and he made them welcome to his boat. He drew it close in shore. Ihey went aboard in detachments and examined his mstruments with awe, and broke with him the bread of friendship and drank the wine of festival. They marvelled at his stores; not with the stolid sang froid oi the Indian, but with the lively admiration of cultured men. His watch ^ompass, swords, and other instruments of peace and war delighted them. He made his muskets taboo to them • but he explained the character of his cannon, prompted thereto by the alarming boom of the night before. He discovered that they had never heard of Spaniards or guns or tubes that shot lightning, or larger ones that made hunder. Ihey knew what he meant, nevertheless, when he described to them the sound he had heard, and they bent their heads and uttered a reverential "Sabahsqdah t '' from which he gathered comfort, for it seemed to him that the sound was something not unfamiliar to them, and one which thev rp;TqrHf»H «r,Vk ..,.1:^; _ ,-, . . y -o . '"v.v:^ ivn^iuub awe. 00 ne resolved to hre his cannon. Running it to starboard, and directing his t-fl ao8 XTbc Mbitc mm of /iDanoa guests to assemble in the stern, he hghted his match and sent the English message thundering across the waters, the round shot dancing as it went, and throwing up wreaths of spray until it plunged finally among the rapids. Then the Manoan chiefs and warriors knew that David was indeed the sun's immortal messenger ; and they fell upon their faces, and gave him the welcome of a god. It became necessary for David to modify their opinion of his supernatural character, seeing that they evidently expected him to steer his boat through the rapids and over the mighty cascades that were the watery frontiers of Manoa, and so enter the city. " I have not the power you think," he said, " though I come from a far distant country, that is governed by a mighty monarch, mistress of the seas and the Queen of many ships and soldiers. Therefore, I beg that you will conduct me to your King, as one who desires the honour of being his guest." "Thy coming has been looked for. Our King is feeble. He is old, and goeth soon to his father, the sun. Evil omens shadowed the death of his Queen. Not within the memory of man hath an enemy threatened Manoa. Sinister reports have come across the mountains. The sun did hide his face from us. Stars fell into the lake. A bolt of thunder struck the palace. The leopard fled before an enemy unseen by us. The eagle screamed, and burnt his wings in the sun. These are signs of dire misfortune. But we know not what sins we have com- mitted. Being unworthy of punishment, we look for the succour our oracles promised us whenever Manoa should be threatened with an enemy from within or a foe from without; and we have prayed to our great good father, the creator of the world, the fount of life, the god of gods, the sun, to help us in our need; and thou art come ! " ^avib Discovers /©anoa 309 lik7pot"er'lr *" "," ''"■^' ""-""S you; no. of god- .m Er." f " ■""'" "' y°"'»«'ves, for such I surefy frL f ' "" "° supcrnacural or divine noJe «ou teach us the lp«nn i^r u -i- strange " said thl /. , humility, most mighty 'tngt , said the commander, "and we obf^v >^ superiluous to tell your excellenrv hi Z ^' ^""^'^ The water-wav cJh ^"^""^^ '^^^ ^anoa is fortified. his celestillToa? o t 2^%:'' '"^-^'^ '" '''''^' unknown to you fo ff h1 T^ T ''' "^^^^"^-"^ents With the dim/ns.'ns':^ ir v^^^^^^^^^^^ present proportions. So shall six of n. ? ^^^" o"t::::\;:u:ir.r--^ imperial courts." ^"'" °" <='«y'» Wdt.hX/°" "■"■" '^'''^ "^"<>' """ '- - «o into .C?r:tered whfttd'^e^L °d LT '"""'"^ =" °"- and speedily disappeared lei";, th ''"" '" t '°""' self, and five others to m J!T^ commander him- David. ' "'^''^ "'^ ™>'^6« '° Manoa with ■'Your water-way hath a secret entrance ?» welcome your mightiness 7n I ' ""^^^^P' '^^" 7^«* "iigniiness m many tongues " 4rKt:^t:arfo:rwt;^^^^^^^^^^ horn. He olaced it t^ ' ^,.'^^''P°" ^ '' ^^s a miniature andpenet^atSl 'Jl^L':^!'...^'.!"""^'' ^ -iling ._. - ._, ....,..„ ,,^ ic|;catea uirec times. 14 ;1i "f! m^fmmmtam m I iiiii I 3IO XCbe mbitc mine of /IDanoa '"Tis the signal for the guardians of the gateway," he said, answering the inquiring look of David. " Shall we unmoor the boat ? " the commander asked. " Let me assist you," David answered; but the Manoans, bending submissively to the command of their chief, seized the ropes and chains. As they unloosed the moorings and let the tree-roots swing in the lake, there was a sudden rush of water from the depths of the creek beyond, and with it a pair of canoes came bounding forth, as if they had been launched from the forest. In presence of the great boat and the white man standing in the midst of the Manoan warriors, their chief by his side, the two canoeists paused in wonderment. At a word of command, however, they literally flung their canoes by the side of the vessel. David instinctively understood that the secret way to the city was behind the bush and sedges and mighty flags and trailing weeds that had seemer' to be the end of the backwater in v/hich he had moored iS vessel. The commander held a consultation with the canoeists. "Advance-guard, or pilot," said the chief, to David, pointing to one of the canoeists, who now dropped in front of the boat ; " rear-guard, or watchman, he follows, with your excellency's permission." " Lead on," said David. The advanc -guard, or pilot, flung a rope aboard. The rear-guard made it fast to the bow. Then he dropped into his canoe, and fell astern. The pilot began to paddle his tiny craft and tow the great boat into the creek. David at once understood that they were to navigate the weed-choked passage that en> bouched, no doubt, upon open waters. He thereupon took up an oar, and proceeded to assist the canoeist, punting with a will. The commander, after contemplating him for a liHlf* whllf». Sf»iyAH an r->nr- UirY^cr^^f ~~J t.1 -i • 2)av)iC) Discovers /Bianoa 211 new lesson in humility combined now with skill and muscular effort, imitated the white man's example. . . . The boat moved forward, into the thicket, scattering the humming-birds and parting the rustling foliage. Above their heads a group of monkeys went chattering by, and a flock of parrots screamed their piOtests. . . . Then a wonderful scene presented itself : a vast rocky embankment, partly reflected in a deep pool, entirely closed in with boulders and rocky heights, in the very centre of which was a mountain, its face sheer white cliff", not unlike the English limestone of Derbyshire, but reaching upwards a thousand feet without a break, then mounting skywards in ledges of rock and facing the sun in graceful peaks and towers. Into the heart of this mighty cliff" the pilot towed the boat, which was carefully steered by David, who could touch the cavern on both sides as the vessel glided beneath the natural archway. Once fairly within the portal, there flashed forth from recesses on both sides the flames of torches. With whispered words of warning and a formula of signals, a massive pair of lockgates were wind- lassed forth from the cavern, and the world outside Manoa, that had for a few minutes been linked with the golden city by ever so fine a thread, was once more shut out, and David Yarcombe was penetrating the mighty secret that haunted his friend and patron, Sir Walter Raleigh, even to the day of his death. I CHAPTER III DAVID ENTERS Ti: J GOLDEN CITY, AND KISSES THE HAND OF THE PRINCESS ZARANA PELUCA "pROM tropic heat and white sunshine to cool shades ± and torch-lit caverns. From the secrets of mighty forests and the wonder of flowering shrubs to the mystery of subterranean waters and sentinelled grottos. Yet is there nothing new; for, even in our day, the ancient Algerian city of Constantine stands upon such a quadri- lateral plateau of rock, with sides rising sheer from a river bed more than a thousand feet, similar to the guardian of Manoas water-gate. Beneath this city of Constantine, or as the Arabs call it, Quemstina, there is a grotto, and a cavernous way like unto that of the subterranean water- course of Manoa, the chief difference being that the mountain and grotto of the golden city are on a vaster scale. Modern discovery has established the sober truth of many a stupendous fact that for ages had been relegated V to the region of fable. ^ Beneath great domes of rock, into open pools, and again into narrow gorges, the boat glided onwards a gentle stream going with it. ' At intervals sentinels challenged the voyagers, sentinels who appeared with startling suddenness Now and then their passage was barred with flood-gates. These were opened on challenge of the commander's horn, that echoed ' -''^^"o" t«'= iiwiiu-rvays, aisturbing bats and other SI2 2)avl6 JEnters tbe ©olOen Cits "3 flying creatures that brushed by with rustling wings. Then, m the bend of a jutting rock, would pfash coo tnckhng streams, sometimes a veritable waterfall Half-way through the winding tunnel David thought their strange voyage had come to an end. They were however only checked by a more than usually formidable obstruction As it was slowly withdrawn they came upon an excavation that proved to be the entrance to a vas" chamber, furnished with divans and lighted by many lamp the atmosphere warm with perfumes ^"V 'amps, matde^f oi'd' "'"'""'"' '''"'''"' ^"'^' "''^^'"g *^ ^om- Th .! 7 ' T' '"""^d'^ely surrounded by guards and attendants. David landed. Meats and wines sweei and fruits were speedily set before him and his co^paZ ^ The repast being concluded, heavy crystal bowls of watc were brought, in which they washed their hands. An attendant then appeared, with pipes and bunches of tobacco eaves, together with a basket of cut tobacco. With the kaves the commander deftly rolled a long soft cigar; but David preferred a pipe. The bowl was of gold, lined w^th a white porous porcelain. The stem was a reed The tobacco was coarsely cut. It had a fine aroma. The tendant gave David a light, bending upon his knee a a god ' '°'' ''" """ *' """« "'»S" was David inhaled the golden leaf and found it of a delicious flavour, less pungent than the weed of Virginia introduced 10 London by Sir Walter Raleigh, and more delicate and -: Tat'r/°" "; ''^'"^- ^"-^ "'^ p'p^ "« -^^^ offee It " r^' '"'"'"• ^^"-1 P^^f^"«d the coffee. It was served in thin cups of silver, and was 'ooToVdI"' ""u ''" ^" '"'^<^' ''■'" ™'^- *e' luxuriL roof of Durham House. As David smoked and sipped the aromatic decoction, he w». ^„,„f„„„j ...-.u ., . ^r "^ . , , ■ "- .---■..li^-iti^u iviiii inc tnoutiiit that at least he was on his way to a civilised Court. He had § s mi i 214 Ubc Mbite Muq of /iDanoa found little to admire among the people who had Topiawari for their king. If their food was plentiful, it was ill-cooked ; and their wine was thick and overpowering. Their habits were coarse ; though many of their women were beautiful. David told the commander how tobacco had been brought to his own country by the Queen's great captain, Sir Walter Raleigh ; and the commander in reply said they did not know the time when they had not grown tobacco in the plains and along the valleys of Manoa. " You have many gardens ? " " Manoa is one great garden." " And mines ? " David asked, recalling the golden dreams of Raleigh. " Yes, dear master," said the commander, adopting the salutation of the governor of the grotto and subway of waters, who from the first addressed David as master. " Gold and silver ? " " Yes, my master." " And you get pearls— from the sea ? " " We are not upon the sea ; but our merchants bring ihem from Belestia." " Yod have houses built of stone ? " " And of the woods of the forests." " Adorned with gold ? " •• With much gold and silver, dear master." " And your textiles ? The skirts and ribbons of your gallant escort ? " " Saronga," the commander replied, indicating the frock that was belted round the waist, something after the fashion of many of the English sailors; common, but more picturesque, in the islands of the Eastern seas. " It is made of the wool of the llama." " Woven in Manoa ? 'Tis as soft as a beautiful cloth they call silk in my country of England." " 'Tis woven by our womeft, most gracious master : and 2>avi& Enters tbe 0oI^en Cftj 215 "The sacred grove ? " The commander answered David with reverent deference ha f.behevmg the white god d,d but make these inquirie fair whnTT""'l'.°"'" *^P°'"'°"> ^^^'"g 'h^' his tokLa. r ''"' u™' "°"''' -'"'^'^ have shown him, oolong down from the courts of the sun, the city he loved so well. He nevertheless answered with t,ch icnow^edge as he possessed; and his voice was rich Id "The sacred grove of Manoa, my master," said the commander, ".s the centre of the garden „h re the first man was born He was lonely; and the sun gave him and fnend. They were our first parents on earth The sacred grove and the fruits thereof belong to the virgin! of the sun. They elect the priestesses of the 3d grove; who tend the sacred trees and cultivate te carpet of_flowers and sweep the shores of the sacred lake." ' And the serpent?" said David, the biblical tradition naturally occurring to him. ••""■on The commander did not understand; but after awhile a^lfant^had" "' ''^f " °^^^^"' ^ " "^ ^herlh d at Manoa, had no record or tradition of the serpent nn empution and fall of the man or wo„,a„. It JaT^py the beg,„nmg of creation. And this first garden was some d,stance from the city. It had a sisterhfod, of l!s seyeruy than the virgins of the sun; and a beauti ul ake where the women of Manoa, headed by the Queen t the moon of harvest held high festival. ' " A very beautiful city, Manoa ? " ha2Z°h!7 °" '"'"'' '"''^™""^'' ""' ''^'""if"' »» 'he uanas of his poor servants can m^to it » „„i.„j .,.. -nder; who now, at the snnur^'of'.ZZ;;:::^ m\\ \ 216 XTbe TObite mm of /Ibanoa an echo of his own, rose and intimated his desire that the voyage should proceed. The signal announced the open- ing of the last gates of the journey ; and it seemed that this operation was tedious, hence the break in the voyage at the governor's underground palace for the refreshment of the Inca's officers, some of whom traversed the caverns once in every twenty-four hours. The remainder of their course was less difficult of naviga- tion, the roofs of the various caverns and grottos higher, the water-way wider, the atmosphere warmer, the sentinels fewer, and the incidents of artificial lights less frequent. As no picture or possible description of Venice can realise the fascinating charm of it, the mysterious loveliness of Its dreamy palaces in the golden splendours of a setting su. ^ so nothing David had ever conceived from the descriptions of Sir Walter Raleigh, which the great English- man had gathered from fact and fable, came up to the reality of the scene that lay before him as his boat slowly emerged upon the lake that reflects in silent beauty the palaces of Manoa, behind which, street upon street, tower upon tower, pinnacles upon pinnacles, now with palm-leaf roofs, now with roofs of beaten gold, mount the purple hills that shut in the city, terrace upon terrace of garden, vineyard, and groves of luscious fruits. There is no rain in the regions of the golden city. Three hours after noon on every day the sun lifts a vaporous cloud from the bosom of the lake and scatters it in a cooling mist. From his long journey of the night the god of day brings to the mountains the morning dews of heaven. That the men may not suffer deterioration from want of physical exercise, nor be too dependent upon their great father, the sun, there are arid wastes beyond the boundaries of the city, which need an added moisture. That they may bring forth the fruits of the earth in their season, great irrigation works have been laboriously tended. The vast plains thus flourish BapiO Enters tbe ©omen C«ts 2,7 bdntT'' '^^ ""■' ' ""'"'^"•^ °f "''= hills, instead of bang dependent upon curious pumping station on an arm of the lake and a system of stone and wooden condu™ Manoa mmgles m its various works and life many of the most primitive appliances with some of the most advanced discoveries of civilisation. ■•"vancea It is deemed useful to tender this aside information while David collects his faculties to appreciate th/ see ,e m which he is ,0 become so important a figure. Prom 1; m the forefront of the Inca's palace was ^^Z^^ a porch of wide dimensions, if stood forth f^te ofmlT T' °' '^'''" «°''' '""Sed with mosac of marbles and precious stones, and supported on light shaft of alabaster. The floor was of polished iron-wood and the walls of frescoed plaster. I„ .he great haU or hrone-room beyond, which was approached by a boad fl.ght of St . PS. sat the Inca. By his side stood his daugter Zarana P.uca. She was, not much darker of skin fen Xtr • '"' ''' '-' " '^^ -^^'^ -- 0. '4 David thought of them both as he looked upon the P incess, thought of them and sighed ; thought of Lucy, and felt himse^ blush as he compared her with the glo ious Southern figure, made manifest the more by her S disguise in the skirt or sarong that fell in loose folds from .-aist to ankles, and the flowing scarf that marked the loveW contour of her neck rather than draped it. The varied hut comnl """' ;"^ """^ "" ="*^ ^"^ " ™""y ^heen to he complexion. It was a deep olive, with the sun in it and the warm oiood of health in her veins. Her eyes were r1vld%.?'"H>'':' """ "''^'' ^'"'^ '^'''''' '««" '"« :-r'f.'\.'° f."Sg^«'. «"'«'Prise and firmness, but quite "......, uic lines 01 beauty. She was a very goddess standing by the side of her father, the aged^I„!° v^'h 2t8 Ube mmc mm of /iDanoa I! 1 h!s long white hair, short grey l>eard, and sun-tanned, copper complexion, deep, penetrating eyes, and crimson robe, girt with a jewelled-handled kris, not unlike the weapons worn by the Dyak and Malay, and sugge.stin^ the strange pedigree of an ancient race. He was bowed with years— the gnarled oak, lightning-struck, by the side of the young palm, bending with the slightest breeze; such a pair that it had fallen to few travellers to see or poets to imagine; King Topago, the Inca of Manoa, Emperor of Guiana, and his favourite daughter, Zarana Peluca. Around them were grouped warriors and ladks of the Court. On the steps minstrels were chanting plaintive strains, accompanied by stringed instruments of varied character. It was a scene of sensuous beauty, a vision such as poets dream of; the Oriental glow of dusky com- plexions, set off with rich complementary colours of gor- geously dyed draperies, the full round bosoms of matronly women and the delicate g:ace of maidenhood swellincr beneath diaphanous robes in the arcadian innocence ol" a sunny clime; grave and reverend seniors in their long flowing gowns ; youthful chiefs and soldiers with their war- like trappings and jewelled weapons. As a setting for this central group, there stood, ranged on each side of the palace, troops of warriors, standing at attention beneath a forest of spears ; each company, of a hundred, dominated by a chief and his officers, radiant in shining gear; and at their head, Cepedia Urania, the commander-in-chief of all the Inca's forces, in a suit of fantastic form and colour : a vest of crimson, fitting tight to the body, with a broad collar of thin gold plate ; over the vest something between a jerkin and a spencer, of deep blue cloth, em- broidered with silver threads and ribbons ; a skirt of the same colour, but of a finer texture, reaching to the ankles; his feet in sanj >*is, shod with leather and bound with bands thinly plated with silver, and ornamented with IDa\>i^ £utcis tbe 6ol&cn Cit^ 219 pearls. He wore a short knife, and the soldiers of his escort were armed with bows and arrows. The Inca gave his chief commands to young officers. They were pro- moted ii recognition of their valour and discipline. In the matter of authority they were under his immediate eye and direction. Ceped-' Urania was a young man of distinguished appearance, more than usually haughty of mien, but of an agreeable countenance ; his skin smooth as satin, his eyes dark as night, his limbs well-knit ; one who might well challenge attention. But David, as his escort led him towards His Majesty, had eyes only for the vision of beauty by the King's side. The tenderness of Mary Lysons, the radiance of Lucy Withycombe, were merged in the unmatched loveliness of this marvellous figure, typical, surely, of the heavenly charm of the golden city. His heart seemed to ache, for Lucy's sake, as it beat with a strange emotion under the magic spell of Zarana Peluca's subtle beauty. He could not fail to observe how the warm colour in her olive cheeks carne and went, as she leaned forward to look at him. When she held out her hand he raised it to his lips with as much formality as he could command. He feared that he had already committed a breach of etiquette in turning from the Inca to his daughter, as his intention had been to make his first salutation to the throne. The Inca rose, and, as he did so, the entire Court fell upon its face, a blare of trumpets shook the air without, and the King kissed David upon both cheeks and bade • him welcome. "Take thou thy seat upon my right hand," he said, "and this, my daughter, will seat herself upon my left ; and, if it be thy gracious pleasure, so shalt thou acquaint us of thy celestial ambassadorship." He waved fhf^ Pnnrt ncirlo nnA Ko/4^ «-U« rr4ueJ/>-'-j ~l-.. With the rustle of silken draperies and the tinkle of jewels, 220 Ubc mbitc mm of /iDanoa the ladies, statesmen, and warriors of tiie Court retired apart ; and the minstrels, sitting about in groups below the palace vestibule, sang snatches of soft dreamy music. The troops were withdrawn, melting away as if they had been absorbed by the banks of flowers and palms and the sunny mist, that now began to spread in transparent clouds over lake and shore. Zarana Peluca, with a graceful in- clination of her head, withdrew to her father's left hand, gathering her silken draperies about her glorious figure,' and motioning to David that he should first be seated,' obeyed her father and sat on his left hand. Then the King (having learnt that David spoke the Indian tongue but slowly) addressed him in measured tones and simple words. A venerable prince, even in his old age his form looked strong and his carriage was regal. He was not so dark as his people, and yet much darker than Zarana Peluca ; a lofty brow, hidden by a close-fitting cap of a thin tissue. His hair fell in wisps upon his shoulders, his beard was thin and white, his eyes deep-sunk in his head, his voice feeble. He was at first disappointed when David explained that he was no ambassador from the sun, but the subject of a nevertheless great and power- ful queen. " A queen ! " said the Inca. "A queen!" repeated Zarana Peluca, in a tone of glad surprise; and David responded to the music of her voice with a thrill of admiration. The King listened to David with mixed feelings of curiosity and wonder. It might be that his great father, the sun, had chosen to give his messenger an origin he (the Inca) in his ignorance had no knowledge of; though surely he was heaven-sent-so tall, so pale, so strong, so well-equipped. His chiefs had already told 'lim of the marvels of his wonderful cargo. At the going down of the sun, the King arose the H)avl^ Enters tbc (BolDcn Cits aai ladies and gentlemen of the Court gathered around, and Zarana Peluca, talcing David's hand, led him into the palace. The way was through tapestried and frescoed halls, one scheme of decoration succeeding another, each section in tasteful harmony. At length, the King following with his train, the Princess retired, making a low obeisance to David, who sighed as he gazed upon her— for his thoughts would go back to Lucy, as if some inward monitor warned him of the infidelity that already burned in his heart. The King took leave of him, too, as if David was the monarch and the King his subject. Apart from his god-like attributes, this was the manner of receiving a guest at Manoa. Hitherto, no white man had set foot within the kingdom. Very rarely was even the most illustrious Indian chief from the borders received, and then under such precautions as might have been observed in the treatment of an enemy. David found that such of his belongings as might be necessary to his personal comfort had been placed in an ante-room, adjacent to his bed-chamber, whither he was now conducted. Beyond his chamber was a bath that might have been a relic of ancient Rome. A vast marble basin, with carved seats inside and on its brim, it was fed by a slowly running stream. Beyond the b.nh was an apartment furnished with great simplicity, its windows opening upon a garden. The table was already partly laid for a meal. David's guide informed him that His Majesty, the Inca, himself conceived that his guest might desire to be alone to partake of refreshment and to rest; but if, being refreshed, he would fain desire the King's company. His Majesty would be at his service and disposal. Then David asked his guide and valet at what hour the Inca himself retired. *' An hour after sundown," he answered. 222 Zbc Mbitc 'ftina of /Ratioa H' "And at what time doth His Majesty rise in the morning ? " " With the sun." " Then, if it please His Majesty," said David, " I will be ruled by his kindly and wise suggestion, and enteriain myself with meditations on his gracious hospitality." When David had taken his bath, his guide, with other assistants, dried his weary limbs and robed him in soft linen, and conducted him to the room next his bed- chamber where his evening repast was deftly served ; fishes plainly cooked, roasted meats, birds stewed in wine, sweet potatoes, confections of rice and fruit, the wine not unlike a fine light shcrris, tobacco-leaf rolled in soft green leaves, as is the custom in Virginia even to this day. The dinner-service a mixture of gold plate and china; the larger dishes of gold, the smaller ones and plates of a delicate white faience ; the glass of varied colours, evidently blown ; the table-linen white, with brocaded edges, the texture silken, as was that of all the fabrics of Manoa, the whole being woven from the wool of their one animal, the llama. It is a common thing to liken strange occurrences to dreams ; but nothing else applies so well to the condition of David's mind. He continually expected to awaken and find himself either on the Exe or still battling with the Orinoco. One corner of his bedroom was filled with a luxurious divan. This was his bed. It had soft downy pillows. He had seen no sheets since he lefi the Thames; but there were robes of soft material laid ready, in case he desired to remove the light and airy gown in which his attendants had robed him. In another part of the room there were heaps of cushions ; by the window two richly upholstered stools, with backs to them. The floor was boarded with a white wood. Here and there lay 1 1 ^1 a thin embroidered rug. From the ceih'ng hung a lamp that emitted a faint hght and evidently burnt a sweet perfume. The moonhght was streaming in through the casement David desired his servitor to close the shutter. He pushed back a darkened screen, of atap or palm. A light breeze stirred it and cooled the atmosphere. This was well, the servitor mtimated ; and with salaams, and a passing prayer that the Great Father would watch over him, the soft-footed attendant withdrew, and David pinch( i himself to make sure that he was not dreaming. Arriving at the conclusion that he was very much awake, he flung himself upon the divan and passed into a dream- less sleep ; to awaken long after sunrise, refreshed, and agam mclined to be somewhat in doubt as to the reality of his existence. I I CHAPTER IV " LOVE ! LOVE ! ETERNAL ENIGMA ! " NOW David was unfaithful to Lucy. He had striven against his fate. It was decreed that he should remain in the golden city. In the first months of his exile he had expressed a desire to return to his people. It was an ancient ordinance of Manoa that, should ever a stranger, by accident, or otherwise, obtain admission within their precincts, his outgoing should be made impos- sible. David had convinced them that he was not a god. Wishing to leave them, a god would have done so, of his own accord, and without sanction. Once upon a time the Inca's scouts and spies in the distant Indian countries had met with a great philosopher, who had prevailed upon a former Inca to receive him. The Manoan emissaries went forth, to bring him in at a point far beyond the mountains. Here he was blindfolded, and led through the fortified passes west of the city, being the principal gate. He journeyed many hours. When he left them, after two moons, he was conducted forth witl the same secrecy. The King's doctor, a wise old man, told David this, and felicitated him upon the good fortune that attended him : a home in the garden of the world with speedy prospect of the throne of the Incas, and a partner of matchless beauty and of a noble mind. And David found himself inclining to the destiny thus forecast. It might be, after all, an act of Providence, in a34 the interest of civilisation and religion, to give him power in Guiana. Not that it ever occurred to him to interfere with the belief of Manoa, which was founded on the highest principles of moral ethics ; nor would he betray his hosts to the conquest of England. If it might fall to his lot to develop the best hopes of Sir Walter Raleigh into such an alliance with Guiana as should secure to his country the trade of that wonderful region, he would be prepared to make great sacrifices to such an end. Manoa possessed rich and extensive mines of gold and silver, that were successfully worked with primitive appliances. David taught the Inca's people how to increase the output tenfold with less labour. He could teach their goldsmiths and artificers m silver nothing. They had inherited their craft from their fathers ; their fathers had become experts under the teaching of their fathers, and so on, even back to the days before history was an art itself. Beyond the advantages that might accrue from treaties of amity and commerce with England, David knew that many years could not elapse before Spain would make a rnighty endeavour to repeat the glories and barbarities of Mexico and Peru in the Arcadian regions of Guiana and in the paradise of Manoa. Had not Raleigh himself learnt all he knew of Manoa from Spanish sources ? Had not the very story which the Inca's doctor told him formed a chapter in the Spanish writings on Manoa, substituting however, a later date and a Spanish don for the Indian philosopher? So David, partly inspired by what he con- ceived to be a great mission, and encouraged by the luring glances and tender solicitude of Zarana Peluca, made no further proposals to quit Manoa. Prompted, at first, by other views, he had shown Manoa how to build a boat like unto his own, and how to improve upon the primitive single sail with which they put their small cnnne-^ K-for- the gentle breezes of the lake, and coasted along the^cliffs '5 226 Ubc TObite mm of /©anoa that concealed it from the outer world. Fitting his own vessel for such excursions, he had lain at the feet of the Princess, guiding both aail and rudder ; and had forgotten the waters of the Exe and the Lily of Littleham. At night, however, when reminiscences of the past disturbed his brain, he would oppose his remorseful reflections with counts against Love's indictment ; such as Lucy's coquetry at the Court of Ehzabeth, her flirtations with Lord Essex ; and flatter his feeling for Zarana Peluca by pretending to believe that Lucy did not love him. It was not, you see, " out of sight out of mind" altogether with David; but no lover, Devonian or otherwise, had ever greater temptation to break his vows ; for, in David's experience, there never lived so much beauty out of a fairy tale as the Princess Zarana Peluca was endowed withal. Many a youth, without thought of compunction, would have been moved to tender complaisance by the state and distinction of the Inca's lovely daughter, and the power and luxury that would go with her hand ; even the throne of the Incas, that had fired the cupidity of Spain and inspired the ambition of Sir Walter Raleigh. But David was not one to be won by mere gold and silver and precious stones, or the power that belongs to kings. He was a poet, as well as an adventurer; found delight in things that were strange and beautiful: and Zarana Peluca was the very quintessence of all that was to be desired of god or man. By degrees he induced himself to believe that Lucy had long since come to the conclusion that he was dead. There could be no other report of him. He had been captured by the Spaniards, and burnt; or wrecked in the torrents of the Orinoco and drowned. It would be next to impossible for him to get away from Manoa. If he did so, he might never reach Topiawari's city, let alone .4.„„^, „.„ „,„ „„. iFiiiiuau. x-Liiu. unuouDCcuiy ne loveci **%ovet love! leternal iBniQmar 227 Zarana Peluca. It was useless to try and make himself beheve that he did not. Perhaps Lucy would marry his cousm, who would be master of the Old Farm It was almost cowardly to permit himself to pretend to think this of his fastidious sweetheart, the Lily of Littleham. But love IS sometimes cowardly. It is often also courageous, some- imes treacherous. Anyhow, it is a mysterious power that there is no controlling. David Yarcombe, it is to be feared, had not the gift of constancy as strongly implanted in him as the capacity of appreciation. So he resolved to meet his destiny, as it seemed to him, and take a bond of fate. He would be dead to England, unless some great opportunity should eventuate to awaken him. Meanwhile he would give himself to Manoa. If it should be God's will that had opened the gates of the golden city to him alone, he would, so far as Manoa was concerned, be worthy ofheruust. ^ One day, therefore, when the Inca was celebrating a festival connected with some past event in the history of ■ ^ dynasty, David said unto him: "Most excellent and gracious King, it is my desire to receive, at thy hands what in my country they would call a decree of nationalisa- tion ; I would become a sworn subject of thy rule, a citizen of Manoa." "Hear ye, oh, my people!" said the King. "Qui heaven-sent guest and friend hath, at length, resolved to hearken unto my prayer, and grant your petitions. He asks for a decree of nationalisation. He will never leave us. He will become as one with us, mind of our mind your brother, and your champion I I hereby ratify that wish and at the same time knit him still closer to our royal person. I give unto him, for wife, my beloved child, i^arana Peluca ; I make him my son ! " „_ „- ^,.,^-u. it IS gyjoai" And the trumpets were sounded, and the King, placing Zarana Peluca's hand ^^i 138 ^be mute mm of itbmioa J''1iii 1)1 1 ^ knitt ng To the music of her needles her thouohtj traveled over the seas in search of David. Her nX and fother were dead. They had left her the dear old Lutleham house and its twenty acres of land, besides an mcome, well secured, that enabled her to live in"dep<-„ dence and co ^fort. "lucpen The tablets in the church, recording the deaths of the Wuhycombes and some of their good deeds had of tnet" T^~r"' -"'^ Of c::fai'„ fi: P'oneers. A couple of Spanish flags, taken from the Armada, were hanging up among the rafters; andrquite recently, a new grave had been made for the rem ins ff old Yarcombe, David's eccentric but lovable fatheT Ld the world at Exmouth and thereabouts went on is utual quiet way; the local chronicle enlarged year by year whh Its records of births, marriages, and deaths ^ ^ ' blank it7.hlr' ' 7" T" ^""■^' """ °"« g'^"' "hite JZ a'J u""^'^ '° ^^ ^^^'''"S 'he authentic news o mvid r'-'" ""' '"^ "■°'' °P"-'^«^ ever thougl at IT '.""« ""'"• ^ ^°' ^'"^' ^he had arrived a that resigned state of mind when it is a woeful kind of ' ongs tha tore her heart, if by any chance thev should be to Tarn Of D. ";**■?". ''"""^- '■«= ■o™-'' "--*des^ to talk of David with those who knew him, of his manJ fine qualities, how none could navigate a boat so Telf none had such mastery of the lute, none sang "The Hum IS Up" with such rare spirit, none had a kinder or bfave heart, and, in all the Court of the great Queen wis thel never a courtier with so gallant a bearing, nr^dlny IZ m more oecoming taste, or with more manliness ' ...... ,,^,^ 3^^,, .„g_ J;■^Q^^^^y picture, the hand- ft he %ovc t %ovc t jeternal lenigma t '* 229 andtftTM;'"' ^""''""" '"^' """'""g by .he fire in hfr M "^^ ^"'^ ''"'^ ''^^ "-""Shts ! She was happy m her blessed woman's way. Fate would have done hj; an .11 turn ,„deed. had it shown her that other pTcture o sX^ov r°™'- ™"''"'"= '"""«■' gardens ;' ::;• or au ng over summer seas, in sweet communion with CHAPTER V DAVID SMITES THE DON BEFORE THE GATES OF MANOA IN the meantime, inspired by Raleigh's achievements, and encouraged by the English neglect of the fortune he had prepared for them, Philip of Spain despatched troops for the conquest of Manoa. They went out in many ships, following the route that Raleigh had taken, but selecting a more favourable period of the year for their river service. Well armed and victualled, they had the advantage of de Berreo's assistance. He met them near Cumana, which place he was already rebuilding. To their great delight, he piloted them to the Spanish settlement of Guayana Vieja, which, as already mentioned, had escaped the attention of Raleigh. It had been settled and inhabited, indeed, four years before Raleigh's appear- ance on the Orinoco, and was now a characteristic Spanish city with its numerous officials, its ecclesiastical establish- ments, its churches, and its Inquisition. The holy office began to be established here, as in the early days of New Mexico, against the minds of many of the Spaniards who had come over to colonise this first out-post of the New U^orld on the Orinoco. The Spanish force, however, was not harassed by either the chief Inquisitor, his secretary, or the priests. They were feasted and blessed, and carried with them, as well as the Royal standard of Spain, the banners of the Church, and were accompanied by several militant ecclesiastics. They 230 S)am Bmitce tbc Bon before manoa .3. Wherever ,h y landed rvf"'''^ °i *' ""•'^'•°"»"-" hostile or .00 Lrfu, to 're 4 L" f.^ Y'^"^ ^""" '" some um.eeoun.able way that .h. u ^""^ ''°"''' breastplates and with strand). T . """'^ ^^'"y' '" -ith "thunder-spears" hldlLlT- 'u''^ '"'"''■ ^"^ were on the wafpath '' '" '^'" ~"«ry. and "":^n t^ se:::r :: -^ 9 --rr^t amply vouchedT D^rir: \ ''""'' '"-S" " '^ with a vast body of InZl „n "f -^""'^^'^d encounter hit, fell from his horse Thi,r "' ^P*"''^^'^^' "^■"X people, who had re^ 2T T"""'"' '"^ ?"■""»•« that, pausing both awed anH • """ "" ""^ "■"'"••"■ *e Spaniard toUlTdvartlrS 1^7 ^""'''' finally entered toeir town ,„^ i !' "* *hite men worth taking. The bootv 'nH Tf"'^ ''' "^ "" ">« "as wrought goll ornament fjl-': ' ^"^' ''^'" "^ '""^hly Manoa, they met vvith a foe ;" t Ir"''. ^"' "^"""^ 'hough their only animal wa,thelm' '^" °' ''°"^^' ^w, at night! far awlya^iL then "" "" ^'""'^^ «"-d, of the distant city, S hlVl tT" ' "^'•' "'"'^'"8 "ghts day. marehing in tke di ItLn - "'"^' """^ ""' 'hey met more tten S matT °\'' '''" ^""^^' gaily-decked warriors as ' „T ' '""'' " ?'""»">' "f heheld in the New Word nn^"™"'"". ''"' ""^ «^«^ ^^ battles with the PeJuvL ' '1'" "'' ^'^^•^'"' '" 'heir Mexico. They camtr '■ " *' '°'*^" °f Cortez i„ vast moun^:iT: :Tr^ *'°"gh the lower hills of a h"' ^•'nning"wi7hlLe"''flrness'':f tr""' *" °" '"<"' ■leetness of horses, wearing head 232 Ubc mmc fkUxQ of mmoa dresses that flashed in the sun, the tunics of their leaders braided with gems; and, foremost among them, a white man, young, alert, attended by an escort of warriors armed with muskets. This was a sight that amazed the Spaniards. They had formed into position, their arquebuses in the van, their cavalry in the rear. They were outnumbered by the Manoans, and instead of meeting the enemy in full tilt, as was their wont, they stood on the defensive and awaited attack. Thereupon, a white flag was hoisted by the white chief, signifying a desire to parley. The Spaniards gladly responded. The Manoan advanced, his little company of musketeers supporting him in case of treachery, for he did not trust the wily Spaniard. Hearing their own language spoken, for a moment they thought he was a countryman ; but this flattering hope was quickly dispelled. " Spaniards," said the white chief, " marauders, invaders of a peaceful country that owes you nothing, and against whom you can have no possible grudge, surrender your- selves prisoners of war." A murmur of derision ran through the Spanish ranks. They were used to fight against overwhelming numbers. "The gracious and most puissant Inca of Manoa and Emperor of Guiana will spare your lives, and send the bulk of you back to your own country, retaining your leaders as hostages for your honourable undertaking never f again to attack Guiana or Manoa. Deny him, and his troops, whom I have the honour to command, will annihilate » you The Spanish leaders laughed, the men on horseback flourished t^eir swords and battle-axes, and the militant ecclesiastics raised aloft the banners of the Church. "Know, most honoured but misguided chieftain," was the Spanish reply, "that we are vassals of the greatest and most powerful Prince in the world, and that we have ^mb smites tbe 2)on before /ftanoa ,„ everlas^ng perdition tI k T ' ""'' ^°" '""'^ '"'<> but with the hthe°t autL.r' '"V"' '"""'^'"' °f "'. Of the Only Trlir God /I^^'^li^;'' .--- ^"°»'ed«e' Him is eternal life." ""' ""'=« '° Relieve in the god of lilht rnX ■ ""' ^"''"^' ""'^ "'«". worshi; face 'you dareterMHe rir.' .o" J^r ""'^ ='"•' ""-' people, who live haonv mf , T "^ * «™' '"" f'ee as you, in your beS Tg nTe ^f 7^ 'r' ^-'• never dreamed of Nav h., ' ^'"^ °°^' h"-"" better cause. Know ve fl "°'' ""'" ^' *^" ^ave -bo am the .f^Z o ' the t;a'"f"r'" ^"' "''" ^' a subject of the Virgin Quee„ of En°i f"°'' "■" "'^^ with whose greatness^nd^X; yl'^pt,"';'" '"T "■^"" it diL;~:ai:;?'- F"-^^ -"-- .hew^^hiefSHpt-frS;-^^^^ isef^rrfite'Td'^r-rd'-r"-™ your boasted Armad" .o nou/ran?-f' *'° """■«•" should escape this dnv , ^T ! ' "^ '' '™' one of you 'be sea. teU them ZTw n"""'"' ^"""^^ '° '^^-^b Of the Inca of Man^ Ll "«"d^"combe, a chief Gracious Majesty Queen ElLh?. T*"' '"^''^' °' «'=' dust of Guiana f" ^^''^' "''° "»"« ^ou bite the the'whi;; ^hirTh'rsor'!,' '''' ^"'^"■s '«■»"'<» of • ^''^ Span'ards sounded the signal of f1 234 Ube Mbite ikino of /Ibanoa attack ; and, ere the main body of David's army could come up with him, he and his musketeers were engaged witli the foremost ranks of the Spanish warriors. This was like the first ripple of a mighty flood, amidst the spray of which the torrent rushed upon the enemy and literally wiped him off the face of the earth. The men of Manoa bore the Spaniards down by sheer physical force and numbers. The enemy went under with cries and groans and rattle of armour, his cavalry horses dashing hither and thither, not with one only, but two or three men upon their backs ; for, at the advance of the horses, the lightly dressed natives leaped upon their necks or clambered jp behind them, and slew their ridei .. In less than half an hour there was no leader to give a word of command, or any trumpeter to sound the signal of retreat. Dead upon the field, however, there lay twenty of the Inca's bravest soldiers, and as many wounded; but the Spaniards num- bered a hundred dead, a few wounded, and others taken prisoners. Fortunately for the guard left by the river — an ecclesiastic, who from the first moment of the onslaught saw how, despite his prayers, it was going to end — galloped off the field, and enabled the boats to get away before they could be molested. Nevertheless, not a single Spaniard of the whole company ever returned to Cumana, or the city of Guayana Vieja, to recount the disaster on the borders of Manoa, or acquaint Don Ferdinand de Berreo with the terrible attacks of other enemies and the miseries of starvation by which they eventually perished, their galleys and barges becoming the prey of the Indians below Caroni. It would have saved much heart-break and sorrow, in London, on the Exe, and at Sherborne, if it could have been known that David Yarcombe was alive. To have had report of him, at the head of a warrior host defeating the Spaniards before Manoa, would have made Sir VValtcr BavU) Smites tbc Don before itanoa 235 Raleigh a very happy man; for, next to his own son, now a thriving youth, he loved his j>rofS^S, David, and, in his own secret chamber, mourned him, dead The English Captam Keymis, under the authority of Raleigh and with his capital, attempted to follow up his master's work He found that a deserted village of the Jesuits, close to the confluence of the Caroni and the Orinoco, was occupied by de Berreo and blocked by a newly mounted battery This settlement was called in various ways St. Thomas Keymis had to alter his course; and eventually he returned* having done little more than to remark additional signs of treasures. In concluding an interesting narrative of his five months' voyaging, he apologised for having emptied Raleigh's purse in the prosecution of patriotic designs that were thwarted by envy and private interests. H-Hi CHAPTER VI THE LOST P.ONF,ER RE.GNS IN MA«OA. " THE GREAT W„,TE king!" p RE the moon of harvest had waned the Inca died afn o °''"'';='S"«d '" t"s "ead, with Zarana Peluca 1 i„^^"r.' ""' *' '""• °^ "'^ A'-^'S^'y Maker of aM H^ ngs-wh,chever may be .aid to have watched ove M^n^-gave the people rest from wars and the fea" fn. it and " T T^ T" °'^" '" "^^""f^'-e and ado^n- ■ng It, and m extendmg the fruitfulness ol the originally arid west, fortifymg the country with a first line of defence as they marched onwards to the setting sun. The„ merchants, in continual procession through the m,gh ty passes that led to the Indian countries a^d tt tnbutaj nations, carried gold and silver and precious stones ZnSf ' u T i '"■'''""' ^""^ confections, ornamental woods salt, Indian maize, gut for their bows, leather of many kmds for their shoes and sandals, curious panes and whencelheT ""' ""* '""^ *^ '''• ""d ^--onds whence they knew not, some of them cut with facets that spark ed in the sun and kept their flashing brilliancy L the parial darkness of the lamplit palace; 'hese, and many other goods and wares, in exchange for the Dree n„« „«!"/ a^6 "Ttbc (Breat mutc Ijtijfl!" ,3, And so the y.ars rolled on ; and they were . happy people The Inca, David, had a prospecL successor in his only child, a son, who grew apace in physique and in knowledge; and, while David taught him all he knew, so did he at the same time instruct his subjects in many arts and crafts, and in such wisdom as he hud learnt from men and b«,ks m his own country, and such philosophy as he had gathered from his own experience ; though he had almost forgotten his own language, and Littleham :.zd become a vague and shadowy memory. At first he had thought of teaching his wife the English ongue; but his judgment was against it. Better forget here was any other land than Guiana, since he had cut all ties of love and bi-.:. ;;ht between him andh,s island home. Be ter hve and . ue for M,noa, since it had pleased God to make h,m usef,_I .. a g eat and generous people, and a sword and buckle. ........t their nrch-enemy, the Spaniard. But for Davids prowess and arms, under God, Castile and her tyrannical Church might already have been dictating cruel terms to the people, enslaving them body and soul or burning them at the stake before their own altars, and sacrificing to their own idolatrous idols the virgins of the It was this latter thought that kept David busy at all hmes with the work of fortifying Manoa; extending the fortresses along her rocky heights, planting cannon in ambush of masked batteries, and rendering the two single approaches to the city impregnable; nor neglecting Its advance into the wilderness, that opened out on its eastern side through the mountains, beyond which, to protect the toikrs m the tields, vast walls were built as an outer line of defence. For David never doubted that one day against his own countrymen or the Spaniards, Manoa would have to fight-either for her life or her libertv. If «,> Waiter or ms captains came against Manoa, he would ¥ --H ^38 Ubc mbitc Tftitid of mmm know how to meet them, treaty for treaty. If the Spaniards came, then he would known how to lead his people in a struggle of life and death. If it should please God to take him before the knell of destiny rang for Manoa, he would haply leave behind him a valiant son ; who, in his turn, n^ight have a none the less brave and stalwart successor. And David was a blessing to the golden city. The Manoans taught him many things; he taught them more. They knew how to play upon pipes, like the great god, Pan. He taught them the lute of Apollo. They were wonderful bowmen. He gave them the musket. They sang wild chants in unison. He taught them harmony. They made the llama a beast of burden, loaded as the camel of the Egyptians. He made them wheels, and put the llama into shafts. After awhile the horses he had captured from the Spaniards increased and multiplied, and they relieved the llama of its labour, and its wool became finer and more abundant. He taught them to train and to love the horse ; and he formed cavalry regiments, and, m warlike moods, half-longed for a second meeting with the foe. Man is never quite content; even the angels in heaven revolted. They taught him the craft of the artificer in gold. He improved their method of working and assaying the precious metal. I'hey had scribes, who set down the chronicles of the reigns of their Incas with brushes and paint on the leaves of the palm. He cut wooden types, and taught them printing. Th-y knew nothing of a world beyond the seas. He taught them the history of Kmope, more especially the greatness of England and "le perfidy of Spain ; and when they seemed lukewarm at the work of making fortresses and hauling up the cuns he had hiinrhf thf^m f« ^ - - — ............ ^^y ^ **Ubc aicat OTbite mmr 239 equip he told them the story of the conquest of Mexico and the more recent overrunning of Peru. ' They knew no other god than the sun. He told them of a greater God, who made the sun and the stars, and the hills and the lakes and the rivers, and every livin.- thing; but he did not seek to convert them to his own faith. It was too hard for them to understand how God who had only one Son, and loved Him, should send Hini among men to be despised and crucified. They owned it was a beautiful fable ; but, even if it were true, they urged that God would forgive them for worshipping the most superb of His creations. And David confessed to them that he believed God would receive thf > i in His Paradise though they only worshipped the sun which He had made' so long as they loved their neighbour as their self were just and charitable, and obeyed the moral laws which the great Incas of old had laid down 1 their government David related unto them the story of Christ, described His sweet and gentle nature, dwelt upon His teaching which they found not unlike the ordinations of the Incas' as expressed in their worship of the sun and the service of the vestal virgins ; and he contrasted for them the Puritan faith of his old comrade, Trevelion, with the austere egoism of the Church of Spain. Christ, whom they professed to worship, practised humility of life and habit, and delivered Himself of parables of charity and love. The popes and cardinals and priesthood of the Church of Italy and Spain revelled in purple and fine hnen, lived m gorgeous palaces, persecuted all who would not bow down to them, and, in the name of that very Christ whom they professed to worship, tortured men and women for believing in His humility, pinched their flesh with red-hot irons, pat out their eyes, broke their limbs. and burnt them alive. When !)a'"Vl hJH. * T i',_t ..c*.^ wfc»w^*o UL/v/11 tAAK^aC cruel examples of their brutal inconsistency, the Manoans Stress upon tncse 240 XCbe mbitc mng of /IDanoa would spring to their feet, and demand to be led against these scourges of the unhappy world beyond Manoa. Then David told them how this strangely inconsistent and cruel Church had elected for themselves a Christ on earth, who claimed to have all the power of God's Son in heaven, and who sought to enslave the world, temporally and spiritually, and enforce its doctrines with fire and sword; and still further insulted the God-Christ they professed to follow, by setting up His mother as a co-equal and even greater power than God's Son. And the philosophers of Manoa asked David why God slept while His true followers were being sacrificed? j which David replied that it was not for him or them to question God, any m^re than they questioned the sun. Might it not be, he a;iked,. that his Great Father, as well as the sun, whom they called their Great Father, had, in keeping, a judgment upon the enemies of His Son ; and might it not be that He had deigned to look down upon the community of Manoa and the people of Guiana when He had opened the gates of their city to himself, who had assisted them to defeat God's enemy and theirs, and had strengthened their arms for that struggle of the light against the darkness, of heaven against hell, which every omen they believed in pointed to as a possi- bility of some future day ? Then all the people fell upon their faces, and supplicated their god to be their succour in the hour of need ; and, at David's intercession, they prayed to his God also; and henceforth they mingled their prayers, for he assured them that, while harm could not come of it, good might. Yet David in his heart, while he deemed it wise, and indeed just, to indict the entire Church of Rome and Castile, entered a l-md of Jesuitical exception in favour of the Lysons and the kindly priest of the Mitre House. The religion of those days was so militant, doctrine was :?•-- r^2r--iv-^ u^- TViti; ^-uiiiicoi ine C1055 a&iu tuc bworci so "ttbc ©rear mbitc mfna r ,41 dimcu.^ to :sz^'^::^i:^^r''"' "™^ and the wretch who. in the :r„,Vof GoTanTafs tr^. samts did the work of Satan and his f^ien angeU ""' And so the story of Manoa w^nf ^ 1^ i It jt! 10 III I I— jil'iiiij j % CHAPTER VII RALEIGH SMITES THE DON AT CADIZ T TNDAUNTED by the undeserved failure of his states- ^ man-hke plans for the opening up of Guiana, un- restrained m his patriotic service to the State by the unsuccessful appeals of his friends for his restoration to Court, Raleigh still held his head high and made fearless tender of his ..dvice to the nation. Although feeling with Keymis and his wife that his time and money had been thrown away in his Guiana expedition, Stebbing, the his- tonan, on the contrary, says that Guiana had "rehabilitated him. His advice that England should not let herself be constrained co a defensive war by the power of the Indian gold of Spam was accepted, and oner more he emerged into official prominence. He had been enabled to give warning of a fleet of sixty sail, preparing in Spain for Ireland ; and quickly upon this, he had news of the im- minent danger of a Spanish invasion of England from ^rittany. Spain had not slept since the repulse of the Armada. She was alert, and persistent in her preparations to avenge herself upon England. Raleigh preached the necessity of rapid responsive action on the part of Eliza- beth's ministers. "Expedition in a little is better than much too late," he wrote to the Council ; « if we be once driven to the defensive we are lost." Concurrent disasters told in favour of his wise and chivalrous counsel Hawkins and Drake iiad been unsuccessful in an expedition 34a miciQb Smites tbe mn at cm^ 24^ against Panama. During the month in which Raleigh was urging the State to action, Hawkins died, and two months later Drake followed his comrade; " both," Raleigh has de- clared, " broken-hearted from disappointment and vexation.' It was the confirmation of a Spanish league with the Earl of Tyrone that at last aroused the spirit of Elizabeth, and compelled action on the lines t offence advised by Raleigh. Ninety-six English sail were equipped, and the Dutch added twenty-four. The force consisted of fifteen thousand and five hundred sailors and soldiers, two thousand and six hundred being Dutchmen. Lord Admiral Howard and Lord Essex were joint commanders ; Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Thomas Howard, Sir Francis Vere, Sir Conyers Clifford, and Sir George Carew being of their council. The fleet sailed in the beginning of June, 1596, and on the 20th it appeared before Cadiz. Mr. Stebbing refers in detail to some contentions as to the mode o'f attack, which arose through a judgment ooing arrived at in a council of war that took place while Raleigh was intercepting runaway Spanish ships, and which Raleigh, with overmastering power, reversed. He induced Lord Essex to give up, even in the act of disembarking troops, the scheme thus previously arranged ; the result being a different line of action, in which the admirals and generals of troops having acquiesced, they seconded Raleigh's plans with enthusiasm and success. Campbell and Guthrie, both writing exhaustive accounts of the action, agree substantially in their records ; which, for purposes of this brief narrative, provide the most interesting data. When the fleet sailed,' as far as all except the commanders were concerned, it was with sealed orders. The plan of attack advised by Raleigh, after the contention already mentioned, was first to fall upon the Spanish galleons and galleys in the DOrt. Sir Walter, in fh*:. lI/'^^'e.'.-A. ..,00 f« i^~ J .V attack; and to be seconded by Sir George Carew I i Ui& f ■ I ^44 zbc mbitc mm of mmon Mary J^oso, Sir Robert Southwell in the Zion, Sir Prancs V.re in the J^afn^ozv, Vice-Admiral Gross in the Sza^/fsure, Sir Conyers Chfford in the Dreaduoug/^,, and by DudV, m the Mnj>ane/, on board which sailed Sir Thomas.' Howard The Spaniards showed u bold front, and mr.le a v.gorous, If bnef, defence. Right under the city .alls they ranged their galleys, so as to flank the English 3hips as they entered. Culverins were planted, to ;cour t channe of the harbour. The guns of Port Ph.l^p and the curtam of the city were turned upon the ass.flants. In addition to the galleys, the er-emy had placed artillery on board their large galleons; the whole, reach ^^g frrm shore to shore, were covered by For. Puntnai, bz the entiance of ihe harbour. But the English " buH-dog. " ^vere o" the saine breed many of them the same men, who had anmhUated the Ai...Ia. At break of day on the 22nd of June, tl^ atta..< began. Raleigh, with all his native daring, fired by revengeful memories of Greiwaie and ^e J^etjen^e, advanced under the combined Sr. nish fire He pushed on, through the thunder and ligi-ning of forts an^I ships, as if his sloop-of-war led a charmed life and he himself were invulnerable. He took the enemy's fire without returning it, even with a single gun. He bore down, straight away, upon the Spanish admiral. Sir >mncis Vere and the attendant ships, however, plied the , galleys so hotly that the confusion, the bloodshed, and the groans of the dying heard in the intervals of the roar of artillery, struck dismay into the Spanish forces. The steadfast and irresistible on-come of the English shins drove them to despair of their defence, and they beJn to give way and seek cafety in flight. "Notwithstanding their almost unassailable situation," says Guthrie, the strength of their walls, the disposition of their guns, the largeness of their vpscpIc tu^ r.. .•__.•.„ .^ .. . ' ... ,,,.^ ..^^^^^^J^^^^y ^^ ^^^j^ ^ .tbers. IRaleigb Smites the H)on at CaMs 24s the experience of their commanders, and the value of the prizes they had to defend, the Enghsh at once beat fhem from their courage and their conduct. The hearts of the brave and the heads of the wise were equally confounded, when Raleigh, who had hitherto, with amazing intrepidity kept up his fire, poured it ai: at once into two of the largest Spanish ships, the 5/. /%///> and the St. Andrew." Guthrie forgets to mention that these were the two ships that had overpowered Grenville, when he fought the Spanish fleet single-handed at the Azores. They were the two hrgest warships of the Spanish power. Raleigh had, as he confessed, determined to be " revenged for the Revenge, or to second her with my own life." In his attack of the twin monsters he was supported by the other ships Each disputed with the other the post of danger. Essex anchored alongside of Raleigh. The old jealousy had for the time being died out, except in so far as it concerned the honour and glory of England. The Warspiie was badly hit. She was nigh upon sinking, when Raleigh was rowed to Essex's ship. Raleigh told Essex, in default of the fly boats, he meant to board. "To burn or sink is the same loss, and I must endure one or the other." " I will second you, upon my honour," was the gallant reply Raleigh, after a quarter of an hour's conference with Essex, returned to the V^arspite, which he at once pushed into her old place of honour, at the head of the attack, and proceeded to grapple the St. Philip. His companion ships followed suit. Panic-stricken, four of the great Spanish galleons slipped their anchors, and tried to run aground. The St. Matthew and the St. Andrew were captured. The St. Philip and the St. Thomas were blown up by their commanders, and a multitude of their men were burnt or drowned. The rest of the Spanish ships did their best to get out to sea, leavinsr the cnmnlf**.'^ .- — .t-.-.-r^ .-.r ^^ »-Cl£-f wUi s^ \Ji lilC City an easy matter. Only seven of the English fleet were 246 ^bc TCibite iFjfno of /iDai.oa engaged m this assault, against seventy-one of the Soanl^h Kale,3h was badly wounded in the le» Durilt thf f noon of the victory the merchants of SeWlle 'and C d" offered two million crowns, to save the Spal h West Wh imercept. While the proposal was being considered th. consumed, except the S, AZ^f^^S'^ and trading, possession of the English." ^"''''""' '" In merchandise and nlafp> fV.« * Many weal ^ ^iv^ toT c::™::!^^, -%t:^S:e.'::terr;w:^;^::;:td":-"^ :ht::;r:is:;:eF7^^^^^^^^^^^^^ «ords o. :::x idTndtg ^i ::;;rhj: r srot:o\r.?:dircir ^^•^' "-^ J • , '-^iUIZ. Most of the town was dp«:frnir/>/4 .ibrarof°Li;;Uit^:s\iv":or '^^''' ^--^ '"^ i 'He nucleus of' the ^Z^^:^ ' ^^^^Tf^- colleagues bo,e testimony to his vahan servic Tnd'hi: murmurs in the matter of booty were soeedTv '• ^ J t' c::rir;r -"''' '- --' ^^^ -^^ l^fore Cadi the n""""" °' "^ ''" '°"°"'"8 "i^ service CHAPTER VIII ENVY, HATRED, AND MALICE r\NCE more powerful at Court, and in harmonious V_y agreement with Cecil and Essex, Raleigh brought about another expedition against Spain. This was The expedition to the Azores, known as the Island Voyage • the object being to destroy the navy at Ferrol. and capture Spams Indian treasure-ships. The Earl of Essex had the chief command. Sir Walter Raleigh was vice-admiral. The weather mterfered with the original plans of action. Rale.gh s ship sprung a mast. Ferrol being abandoned, the place of rendezvous was Flores. Arrived there, Raleieh received orders to follow Essex to Fayal; which island > Earl himself intended to attempt. Raleigh sailed (v, Fayaf Essex was not there. The people of the place b4.n to remove their goods. Friars, nuns, and the women uid the children of the town were sent away in carts. The town was well fortified, and Raleigh's ships were fired upon as they entered the roadstead. Essex did not come. The opportunities for a descent upon the island were discounted by delay. Raleigh's officers and men were for beginning the attack without Essex. Finally, Raleigh commenced operations. After a fight, in which Raleigh him.-'f ..ore than once had to rally his men in the van of danger. Fayal was captured, and the entire island was in Raleigh's hands When all was over. Essex arrived. A great outcry arose = ■ '--"-^o"! "" "i^ part oi iibscx s oracers and friends. 247 I M Ubc Mbitc mm ot /iDattoa Essex was urged to bring Raleigh before a court-martial. for breach of discipline. BI -unt, Shirley, and Meyrick were his chief assailants. There were others, who went so far as to declare that Raleigh ought to be hanged. Kssex called his attention to an article, that none should land any troops without the general's presence or order on pain of death, t^ ,: -Vh'. answer to this was that such provision was .. . : , to captains, and not to him as a principal r.Mnmander, with a right of succession to the supreme aun orityin default of Essex and Thomas Howard. Orders had been given for the arrest of Raleigh's officers, who had joined in the landing ^^ *-' n^. Against this Raleigh piuested, insisting upon bearing all responsibility himself. But for the clamour of false friend;-, to Essex and open enemies to Raleigh, the affair migh, have been accommodated, leaving little or no smart behind. As it was, Essex eventually seemed to allow h,i..self to be pacified ; but the breach, thus re-opened between him and Raleigh, was never healed. On their M^ay home, *hey captured Graciosa and plundered the town of Villa Franca, besides takir g several Spanish treasure- ships ; Sir Walter, in this latter respect, being uiu.t for- tunate. Raleigh, once again in London, was full of business He "toiled terribly." Actively engaged in arming and provisioning western ports against the designs of Spain ; maintaining the ancient lenuies of the Duchy of Cornwall' which were threatened , defend ig certa-n miners from the extortions of m .han.s; taking part in Pariiamentary debates; in consultation with the Privy Council as to the right way of deaR g .vith Tyro -a's rising in Ireland; at- tending, with his wife, entertainments of coui'.csy • con- ciliating the goodwill of Essex id Cecil— Ralei-h had never been more actively . rupU\, and never, it^ vould seem, more the object of er y, tred, and malice. The Env8, ftatreO, an6 /Dallce »49 show of cordiality which E.sex exhibited towards him openly W-,m,ng Esse ,or most of the shortcoming, of the , wt e2K;ce\rror "' '"'-^ °' ^^- ' Court h.d n.eH ^...^::-^ -— ^d ^::^\:^ h.s enemies mcreased. He was included in the li , o destruction w,th po.son. Sir Christopher Blount vi.h several servan^ of Essex, laid a plot to kill I ,: '' "" despair of hs own fortunes, went to Ireland, as Lord-Deoutv • rortetetTt;'"n^ """ '"'"■^"- Vinsf RaTe" : ■aiiea m h.s Irish mission ; returned suddenly to London almost rudely thnist himself into the presc^e of ^ e rteth'el" d''""'"' ""' '"''' '^™"«', and tri d o with 1 natri ? ,'r^' '"""«" '"^ -^"^ °" " Sunday maLntems 7 ' ^Tl"^ "' S°"">a,„pton and other malcontents. Essex, indeed, seems to have behaved like a madman ; and Raleigh snir Charles Danvers, Sir Uilly Mevrick and hi. Ir HBnr„ n ir J "icyricK, and his secretary, ' Thl I ? ■ ""^ '"■"•" ""'"^ °f " «if accomplices They paid the sacrifice of their lives on the block In Blount begged pardon, and conf .d the wrong he had done h,m in the spread of reports ab,«..d to inflame the populace aga.n.t him. Nevertheless, Raleigh had lot n.ucl, of the esteem of the people. The fall of Essex, who «l..!iT5!. ^"^ " f-°""'«. '"' further disoointd —.^-.60=. ..pu«cir,n. Many reports to his disadvantage i .^4- 250 Ubc mbitc Iking of mmxon continued to be circulated. Cecil hindered his advance- ment. J5ut for him, he would have been a Privy Councillor. Cecil professed to be not unwilling to see this promotion, if Raleigh would resign the Captaincy of the Cluard to Sir George Carew. Raleigh would not make that sacrifice, preferring to continue plain Sir Walter Raleigh, knight. The Queen, however, conferred other honours upon him, including the Governorship of Jersey; but he was dis' appointed of his ambitions in many respects, and may be said to have suL.ed more or less at Sherborne; where, however, he was very content in the society of his wife and his son and heir. He engaged himself in fresh efforts to utilise his Guianai n discoveries. Trevelion undertook a voyage of further investigation in regard to Manoa and the Spanish movements against Guiana; one of the chief objects of the sturdy old manner being to make sure of the fate of David Varcombe. Dent accompanied his old comrade ; and, in a fight with a Spanish ship of vastly superior calibre, lost his life. He was rescued, however, from immediate death at the hands of the don, and died peacefully on oard the ^/. /^au/, and was buried at sea, with prayers and the solemn music of the ship's company of instrumentalists, Trevelion lifting up his voice and praising the Lord. They had Spanish prisoners on board, who marvelled at the religious services of the heretic Lutherans, whom they had always understood to be barbarians of the worst type, believing in the devil, and indulging in a filthy kind of worship worse than the idolatry of savages. . . . Trevelion still went on beating about the seas ; now in company with a Raleigh expedition, now on his own account with partners in other ships of adventure; always praying for the return of David Varcombe, never believing in his death, yet never receiving sn answer to iiis prayers. CHAPTER IX RALEIGH STILL DRPIAMS OF MANOA QUEEN ELIZABETH was a disingenuous friend to Sir Walter Raleigh; but King James hated him from the first. With the death of the Queen fell her devoted minister and her most famous champion. Being introduced to the Scottish King, the great Queen's successor received him with a pun upon his name. " By my soul, man," he said, " I have heard but rawly of thee!" Later when James boasted that he could have won the succession by force, Raleigh exclaimed : " Would God that had been put to the trial ! " "Why?" asked the King. " Because," said Raleigh, "your Majesty would then have known your friends from your foes ! " James was too narrow ever to forgive this oracular repartee. Unfortunately for his popularity, Raleigh had the faculty of exciting animosity in dull, ungenerous natures. Jealousy, as well as fear, no doubt operated to Raleigh's disadvantage in the weak and narrow soul of James. Forthwith he began to cut off Raleigh's income, and to shear him of his offices. In his stead Sir Thomas Erskine was appointed Captain of the Guard. He was ejected from Durham House. He bore his reverses with patience. He tried to conciliate the rk.'»i^i_ .. .. ♦--i|,-iviti«iy Wits uusy in me uiicciion of a peace 25* 1 1 i nU i «sa XCbc Mbitc mwQ of /»anoa with Spain. Negotiations, begun in Elizabeth's time, wens renewed, with proposals of conditions that accentuated the opposition of Raleigh and his injudicious friend, Cobham France feared an Anglo-Spanish alliance. The conduct of James gave colour to the possibility of such an arrangement. Raleigh was not only dead against any accommodation with Spain, but he pressed upon the King the idea of signalising his succession in feats of arms against Philip. James had altogether opposite views, and Raleigh failed to gauge his idiosyncrasies. Presently, there were plots afoot against the King; « plot and plot within plot," in which sundry discon- tented noblemen and one or two priests were concerned. The intrigue, "a dark kind of treason," as Rushworth calls It, " a sham plot," as it is styled by Sir John Hawles, belongs to our story only so far as the cross machinations involved Raleigh. " His slender relation to it is as hard to fix as a cobwe!) or a nightmare." Nevertheless, Raleigh's enemies succeeded in bringing hnn to trial for treason, in connection with Cobham's mtercourse with the Duke of Aremberg, a Flemish noble- man in the King of Spain's service. In the reign of Elizabeth, Cobham, with the authority of the Privy Council, had had official interviews with him ; and it was natural enough, now that the Duke came to England under James as the Spanish ambassador, with a pacific mission, that he and Cobham should renew their acquaintanceship. Cobham, desiring to advance the cause of the ambassador and presumin,' upon his intimacy with Raleigh, was foolish and indiscreet enough, entirely on his own account and without consultation with his friend, to suggest that a sum of money should be paid to Raleigh, to secure his interest in the cause of a policy of peace. While Cobham was on close terras with the Spanish ambassador, a plot was being hatched to overthrow the dvnastv of lamo^c {\.hha^ ,„-„ Ultimate with the conspirators, without being acquainted IRaleiob Stm Breams of /IDanoa 253 with their designs. His knowledge of the men was, how- ever, sufficient to excite suspicion against him; and Raleigh's friendship with Cobham was the cue for the hostile inventions of his enemies. Raleigh was not only unfortunate enough to be hated of James but he had made enemies of Cecil and Howard. His unscrupulous opponents deemed the occasion favourable to his ruin. He was charged with complicity in the plot to depose the King. The only shadow of a thought against him was in Cobham's ridiculous proposal that the Spanish ambassador should buy him over to help on the scheme of a treaty of peace between England and Spain. This was distorted into an •iccusation that Raleigh was willing to become a Spanish spy. In default of any kind of evidence against him, one Dyer was called to prove that he heard a gentleman in Lisbon say that Don Raleigh and Don Cobham would cut the King's throat before his coronation. The trial was conducted in a brutal spirit of antagonism to the illustrious prisoner. The language of the prosecuting Attorney-General, Coke, was vulgarly vituperative. No wonder that a certain odium still clings to the fame of both Bench and Bar, when history gives us so many instances of the shameless time-serving of both the one and the other. In our day one loves to think that the Bench, at least, is above suspicion ; but the Bar is by no mouns free of a bullying brutality that has been the object of attack and denunciation at the hands of many of the most famous of English authors and publicists. Coke was a fine example of what is possible under Court influence, unchecked by public opinion. He called Raleigh "a damnable atheist," " a spider of hell," and " a viperous traitor." Raleigh was promptly found guilty, and sentenced to death. He was conveyed from Winchester to the Tower ; and, although not immpHsaf-#a!v Kr/-kiirrKf ♦»% A«.^^..i.: j-.m— ._ « < • .. .....,,_,.^ ^„ tAu\,unujj, umiy cxpcctca ni5 doath. /|. ■ I' I 1 254 Zbc mbitc mm of manon "You shall receive, my dear wife," he wrote to his loving companion, "my last words in these my last lines. My love I send you that you may keep it when I am dead; and my counsel that you may remember it when I am no more. I would not with my will present you sorrows ; dear Bess, let them go to the grave with me and be buried in the dust. And seeing that it is not the will of God that I should see you any more, bear my destruction patiently and with a heart like yourself. First, I send you all the thanks which my heart can conceive or my words express for your many travails and care for me; which though they have not taken effect as you wished, 'yet my debt to you is not less ; but pay it I never shaK in this world." Then he begs her not to mourn for him " that am but dust " ; and gives her much advice, as to their son and the property he bequeaths to her. « I cannot write much," he concludes, "God knows how hardly I steal this time when all sleep ; and it is also time for me to separate my thoughts from the world. Beg my dead body, which living was denied you, and either lay it in Sherborne or in Exeter church by my father and mother. I can say no more ; time and death call me away. The everlasting God,' powerful, infinite, and inscrutable God Almi-hty, who is goodness itself, the true light and life, keep you atid yours ; and have mercy upon me, and forgive my persecutors and accusers, and send us to meet in His glorious kingdom. My dear wife, farewell. Bless my boy, pray for me, and let my true God hold you both in His arms." Raleigh felt that he had little to expect from his persecutors, now that his life was forfeit. But James did not venture at timt time to carry out the extreme penalty that had been pronounced upon him. He held the axe over his victim's head with a feline instinct of torture. Hoping to obtain some inculpating evidence from the last confessions Qi uilier condemned men, he had them led to IRalefflb still breams of manoa 255 Ihe mote the world got to know of the charges aeainst established in public opinion ; and the more his absence from public life was noted, the more seriously ^^he missed from its national enterprise and maritime'^X It IS difficult to credit James with any other feelina than that pei^onal advantage ; but. for the time teing he must have the benefit of a doubt as to such credit of hurlan He not only did not carry out the sentence against Raleil' but he permuted his prisoner many indulgences While he confiscated his estates, and handed thent ove to Ca afterwards Earl of Somerset, he gave Lady RaTe gh S thousand pounds, for herself and children, as purcl ase money of Sir Walter's life interest; he permitted' he to retain some goods and chattels; and, above all T ,1 estimation of husband and wife. 'the king "ranL Lad Raleigh's petition that she might be a prisoner with her ably lodged-Sir Walter, Udy Raleigh, and their s,m ■ but It took most of the little income Ly had I f o . J heir expenses in the Tower. R„,eig,. s^ent mud t me in drawing up petitions and formulating schemes, by way His w-rn"'"' "'''" '"""'" f"' '- -f<= and Chi d,"' went khe"r' " :f """ "' "'^'""■^ '" ■'- I'"-". went to Sherborne, whik its destiny was still uncertain ■ and, retummg to the Tower, brought another inmate in' the r second son. The child was christened Carew th" firstborn being named W^her. '-»rew, tne Time ran oi, even in thTTower, Raleigh commenced I 2S6 Zbc mbitc mm ot manoa his "History of the World," and wrote some touching poems and several essays of a political and miscellaneous character. Queen Anne accompanied her unfortunate eldest son on a visit to Raleigh in his confinement. Both the Queen and her son took a fancy to the illustrious prisoner ; and, encouraged by Her Majesty, Raleigh asked Lord Salisbury for permission to go to Guiana, on an expedition for gold. He offered, lest it should be thought he was a " runagate," to leave his wife and sons as hostages : and furthermore, he said, the Queen and Salisbury might have all the treasure he should bring back. He pleaded unavailingly, and, instead of enlargement, his Tower privi- leges were diminished. Lady Raleigh had offended the lieuteuant of the Tower by driving thither in her coach. She was admonished to do so no more. It was ordere^^ that, at five o'clock each evening, Raleigh and his servants should retire to their separate apartments, and that guests should not be admitted any more in an evening. This sent Lady Raleigh to her own house. To this enforced loneliness, the world is no doubt indebted for much of Sir Walter's literary work. Strange to say, in spite of the very remotest possibility of his release, he not only persisted in looking for it, but in drcaM* of another expedition to Guiana and the discovery of MaKfOa. H« was none the less energetic in his plans for the future of Virginia, which were destined to bear noble results for posterity. He must, many a time, have regretted that, on his first voyage to Guiana, he did not make more of his material advantages and less of his preparations for a future alliance with the Indians. He always looked too far ahead. His horizon was too wide for appreciation by the less far-seeing ministers and mariners with whom he had to count. He might easily have brought home from his first voyage valuable examples of the cold and silver of the country; but he chose to prepare the Kalefflb st«. Breains of manoa ,57 working oVrgoTCne'T' '^ "'^' »' «■« ■»- many years of CCnnLt h"* °"""' ""^'^'^^ -"• 'he advantages o^Tn "e".;";, o^:: n"'''^ '° P'^' ^''™-<' grounds; thoueh still V, •?• '°,^'"*"a "Pon sordid di-ion' to brinfl^l n risf d:e?'''V" '"« empire for England ov,r „k k f , ^*'"' "^ » "e" night oil in his toL;" ^'n . ''"™' *^ ""'<'■ star was in its ^IZZ^ °' °«''*'» «»"»«, when his ft CHAPTER X li'JIlMII'lf WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN " AT 7" HAT fates impose, that man must needs abide." V V Two prisoners ! Sir Walter Raleigh, languish- ing in the Tower, held by bolts and bars and sentinels; David Yarcombe, in the city of Sir Walter's brightest dreams, held by the silken bonds of love and the iron chains of honour. If Sir Walter could only have called David as .1 witness of the truth of Guiana, he might have been saili*sg to the golden land backed by the power of the State. One of Sir Walter's sympathetic biographers, Mr. Gosse, meditates upon the mi};ht-have-bee os in the illustrious Englishman's career. How easy it is to look back and see the dangers and difficulties of the road that has been passed, -nd mark the finger-posts pointing to the rosy way of the future that might have been traversed, had not the pilgrim mistaken for it the fateful path of disaster ! David Yarcombe might have been th . happiest prince in the world, but for looking back upon the way he had come. In these retrospects he exaggerated the pleasures of the road, and allowed the rough p^^ssages to merge into the smoother ways. He had once endeavoured to take his wife into his confidence as touching Littleham and Lucy ; but, if Lucy was jealous, Zarana Peluca was insanely bitten. David could see that if he would keep in the rosy path of contented love, Lialeham and Lucy must belong 9$S TObat mtm ibave JSccn 250 Peluca could not endure the thoutrhf *ko. .u or princess, village maiden or a„/oh' If'" T ""''" David's affections. It was not LTv. I" ^I™^ ^""^^ '" chief to have several wives Th/ '" '" " *'^"'«'" palace full of thenf JZtpT '* ""^^' ^^'' ^ad a iroavid had rolwed'^erilrrerittrtts respect, so long as she remained queen of h^ h . she was Queen upon the throne. But to ink'thauL" nad been a white nim^n ;„ k- rr ^"^^ *"^^^ thoughts went te IcTo her" d\ "' ""' """ "^'^ have been torture .0 her °"" '"""'^^- """'d wo^rdcol'tottnl./'l^.T '" '"'«" ^"'^^'"'-S" *e entirely forgone H """I' k''"' "'''^ Mary Lysons S htrherln'd. t "f ^ 111° '^h' '^"f ^"^ of her severe co-re.igio'nists llLZX:": ZT: one to be gathered within the folds of the rh u ' failing conversion, to be burnt for h. I ""■*' "' |o be born witho'ut a ^n^JVZ"lJ^ 7^'""' our business tot vrand^V!;" f '"'"''" " '^ "<" Manoa. and the nca Cd and th"'' " '"" " """'"^ ^' Walter .,.» ,„!:- ., ..':^ ^."'' "-^ yo-'ng prince, his son of young coltr""" "" ''""' ''°°"" '° "^'^^^ '■" " ^'nng 26o tCbe Mblte mwQ or mmoa Nothing that David had done had astounded the natives more than his introduction of the horse. It was indeed a god-send that, in his defeat of the Spaniards, he had been able to capture such of their animals as had not fallen, lamed or killed, before the bows and spears of the Manoari army. This addition to the economic system of the city, following David's introduction of wheels, had led to road- making. Within ten years a highway had been built across the vast plains, outside the first and second lines of defence, even so far as Barrati, a city thirty odd leagues away, which was governed by an Indian king, and was now opened up to commerce with Manoa. Barrati was situated on a broad river, that eventually joined the Orinoco and thence reached the sea on the opposite coast; and was destined at some future day to become, no doubt, a port of European trade. David had conducted an expedition to Barrati and entered into an alliance therewith. He warned the King to construct defences along his line of river; though David's fears of attack were not from that direction. It had been quite sufficient proof of what the Spaniards could do, in pene- trating the heart of the country, that they had already been at the very gates of Manoa. It must have been by God's providence that he had arrived before them, to lead the children of the sun against the invaders. One of his greatest pleasures was to ride, with his son, through the fortified way with a picked company of troops, and survey the country beyond, and to encamp at ihe point where he had met the Manoan chiefs in those days of long ago. At this point he had erected a tall monolith of stone, the plinth of a white marble that was quarried near Manoa* an inlaid plate of gold being inscribed : «IN HONOUR OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. ERECTED BY DAVID YARCOMBE, THE WHITE KING OF MANOA, In tht Ytar l6ia» TObat mm ttave Xeen «nd so cruel was Fate that L t' " P"'""''^' died while yet he ml y. u """"*'' ^""''■'' "«"'-y S(r Walter a'd the Z'V^ ^" "' '"''"'• '»* '» ob.d^:d\'';oSro::''r rr r^- ""--^ "^ "ad released at 0^1 7, r/^'C f P "''" 1"°""^ '^ dead six weeks when ,hll ' *^""'=* *'='d been and the King J™" h , "'' '""' °' ^'''"''""'' •^'""e. years h.ter, and Te h'had"'."'"- " "" "°' ""''' ^""^ teen year, tlut ht . ''''" * P"'°"" "early thir- Northumberland tei 7 "''' ,","'"'^"'' ^'"""-' ""d Viliiers, his dels : e itT^et „ . ' .'""""'"^ ■""» by such influence as „,. ..'''' ""^ '^"'»'' "ided in the month of Much Tn^ ^' "^* ^"'''"' """ -ant Of his rL^:t'::- rZ^^-'Z'^r''' wer onerous. He wnc . '^/owcr. The conditions a keeper; he w^^rj^vi ;:^ ■" ^'^ ^ "ouse. with at any public assembly but o o u ' " '° "^^ ''^«'' preparations for his vL«e HeT^l t """'" '"»« '" Street; and lived there w.'.h ^i, r " ^,°""' '" ^'°'^ retirement for fourteen momhs J"""^ '""'■ '" ^'°'« >eft of his confiscated w"al'n ITT "" '* "''<» and interest from the Sh expedition ; ^8,ooo ^«yR.^leight™ed"t;TJerso ^.•'T ^'''' o*". ;^S,ooo that Raleigh borrowed chi ""'%"'' °' *■" Of Amsterdam ; and ^,5,000 ^tr.i^'rf.f.' r'"^''-' "unng fourteen months Raleigh"thur;^ l'™':^,, %'• I r 36a Ube mmc *i!i(} of /IDanoa f !• ships together in the Thames. The • and he were watched jealously by Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, and his spies. Everything that transpired was made known to Philip. Gondomar was familiar with the poor ambitions and purposes of James. He had been in his confidence for four or five years. Gondomar professed ><) believe that Raleigh's expedition was intended to attach the Mexican plate-fleet, and otherwise prey upon Spain. The objects of the expedition were, therefore, defined by Royal decree, and it wds forbidden that Raleigh should visit the dominions of any Christian prince. Gondomar obtained copies of certain documents that Raleigh had drawn up for the King's private infor; nation, describing his intended route, and these were sent to Madrid, with every other .scrap of information Gondomar could collect. Spain there- upon offered to provide Raleigh with an escort to the gold mine which was the chief object of his voyage. The proposition was declined by Raleigh. He continued, in very explicit terms, to assert that he had no piratical intention, and that any man might peacefully enter Guiana without asking leave of Spain. After many intrigues to move Ra' ■'^i^h's fleet to other purposes, implicit under- takings were given to Philip that the expedition .should in no way fm injurious to Spain. Finally, Raleigh's ships sailed, tlit c rews a nondescript company j with the excep- tion, indeed, of some forty gentlemen, the scum of London and the Thames. Raleigh was Adpiiral ; his son, Walter, captain of the Destiny, Sir William Sentleger on the Thunderer, the other ships no less notably commanded, and Trevelion, the preacher-mariner, on the Jason, his own vessel, the St, Paul, having gone down in a tempest off the Azores; he and his crew, "by the mercy of the Lord," as he delighted to declare, being "miraculously saved " by an English ship-of-war, in the service of which they were enabled to assist at the defeat and caoture of TObat /»i(jbt Dave iBccn a63 crew." ^"-tuui and taken half her in '.1 nj. "off",'"' ™'"'^'' °"^ ^f ">e ,h,p. deserted over. But the deserter lailed; T7' •"•""'"f""^ 8°' reported that Kale.g had af "/h 'T'' """ '^'^^'^ Lest the present narm,„ u \}l^ ' ^P''"''^'> '''''"'d. partiality inXc "r™ ^^T''^^: ''-"^d of special ^e ventures to quc^e The w r'' ""'"^^ °' "^^'^'s". torian: "As the grltt K„I '' "" '"dependent his- through the lustrous waferfof ,he c""' ""'k^ ^'''^"' doom was sealed and h? ^\C;''""y .'rchipelago his tobeacertanuvhadhl ^ .T ""'"' '■=" ""^ ^^^™"on England." ^ ^' ''"' ''"°™ """" "'"^ happening i„ darSss rthiritr v:;~ '"-r '^^ -rar/thtSeit ".-"-^^ -r:t ■".£ very brea:h oMh ' ^ "Z Th tn'^ ^'""^^'"^ °" '"« and overfall that it is^^ ■,, *"°"'' '^" ^ '"'"We Of the strand but by s^tf '° '""' "^°" ""^ P"" steep rocks where ,h J ^' """^ m a cove under one'after .he o^ r;'^^M.rker;o;Tr '''■ "''" '"' were fired upon bv the "' *^" ^ ^'S^""" Pirates, they -d a n.^£::,::':tz:zL^\^^ -r-''" vi:;r:e;: 'x::: r '^^ ^~-- -r r^ GovernorT wife" Inol ."k" ""'^"^ "^'~'"«- '''he »» -„ ast^erta lir'^W^Ittrtnrhis"'^^' ^"''■ woman a present of half a do f .r"'.:!;:'.™?"'^':- .erchiefs and as many pairs of'gTo'ves.^' rTlhuThetdy' n MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) !.0 I.I 1.25 ■5.« US BlUu 1.4 2.8 3.2 14.0 2.5 22 izo 1.8 1.6 1 ^ ^PPLIED jyHGE Inc le.^.T East Main Street Rochester, New York 14609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288-5989 -Fax ... :-'t^;^..J.,f- W .• i 264 Ube Mbite Mm ot /lOanoa responded with four great loaves of sugar, and many baskets of lemons, oranges, pomegranates, figs, and grapes, regretting that the barren island did not afford anything else worthy of his acceptance. During the three days the fleet rode at anchor off the island, the Governer and his wife wrote to Raleigh every day, while the sailors went to and fro and drew forty pipes of water. Soon after they set sail from the Canaries the provost- marshal of the fleet, one Stead, died ; and much sickness followed. They left the Thames in March. By the middle of November they anchored at the mouth of the Cayenne river, Raleigh himself very ill. He recovered, however, after a short time ashore ; and was greatly cheered, after a day or two, by the most unexpected apppearance of his old servant, Heny Sparrow, who had almost forgotten his own language. In the Indian tongue, he encour-^ged Raleigh tremendously, with reports of Guiana which he had from a Spaniard, who, in the disguise of an Indian, had penetrated as far as the very gates of Manoa. The Spaniard had, ten years previously, been taken prisoner, by one of the chiefs in King Topiawari's couYitry, but had managed to escape to a more friendly village. Here he had adopted the Indian faith and manners ; and being naturally of a very dark skin, had, by staining his face and learning the language, been able to travel to the confines of the Guianaian boundaries ; where, however, he had narrowly escaped capture by the great White King of Manoa. *' Manoa ! " exclaimed Raleigh. " The great White King ! Come hither, Trevelion, old friend. Say that again, my lad." " He told me that, disguised as an Indian, he had got as far as the very gates of the golden city of Manoa ; that it was defended by inaccessible mountain passes and forts; that it was governed by a white king, who ^bat nugbt t)ape Been 265 daughter; that he had Jht herfheTI "^ f"""'^ .he culvenn, had introduced n^btdX^e rtr"^ war-horse, and was called bv the TnH . P*""'' territories of Manoa the 'grelt Wh^f k";"" '"^ '^""'"'^ „ „ ^P^"i^'^' "f ■course ? •' said Raleigh. °' but a god, talle? than an chieHn r " ' "?° 'P-'"'^""' countenance The lZ:tZ^" ^::Z:''if ' f''':^ rode over the land „,,„„ 1 °'^'^"' ^°' he bravearmyof "efs™? 1'"' u"'""' "" "''' ^''^ ^ side, and on on occasion hr t" T*'"' ^'■'" ''^ "'^ or an Olive ^orn,r.z::z'i:ti^;:!": ^^^^^^^ doubt tha' by wthcrfftor '"' ?/ ''^«"''^^' '"=«"= "° greatest fo ce SpS col h °""' ".''"°" ''°'''d ^^f^ the King and Oueen of „ !, 1'"! ''^"'"'' '"' """^ 'h^' '^^ be cflled c?S "of .r :fn ^. ""' "^^' "^"^^"'' -■^h' -" -i?:;trbXTV"-^-^^^^^ vented . We are d cetH '' ':' "^ ^^""^""S' •'^"' -" King James a^lnl«','^''' ^"™''- ^P^'" « 'be ear of leadtng r n,l r . '''^ ^ ^^'"« wiU-o'-the-wisp in Guiana Guia^ l"::^ rs".- ,otf • -l'^^ --P'^ «>e treasures of the countryts t runTly"'^' "" "^"^ '"^'^ ^'"^ ^"' no;'i":rfiT,.ir: ^'"2iiz '-'• *^" r - the adventure. e„.„ u.. T,' ^'"' ' ''*''« "«™'- thought one brave lifewe^o^iorrhe'orTn"""'"'' '^°"'' ""' BBHf 266 XTbe Ximbfte mm ot /iDaiioa David Yarcombe ! » said Raleigh, with a sigh. « Poor David! He reminds me of my own dear lad, Walter, though he was taller and of a more vigorous build. I f.n toward hmi as father to son, Tievelion " " Nay, and I did so likewise, by your leave. He was of a rare breed ; but God, in His goodness. He knoweth what IS besc for the creatures of His hand ; blessed be the Name of the Lord ! Curious folk, our women ; curious, and of a ZZ'wTy. ''"f "'"' '"^ ^ ^" ^°"^"^ ^^-^•"- Mistress Lucy Wif hycombe is still waiting for the lad to return Still calls h,m a lad ; and I call her a sweet young wench, thinking of her as she was that day long ago, when we said ' Good-bye ' to her and to your dear lady ai Plymouth. The last time I put into Topsham, I made a run up to Littleham, and there she was, as buxom a woman as you ever clapt eyes on • rounder than when she was just a lass, with a full bosom^ a wrinkle or two about the eyes, but with cherry lips and white teeth, and a smile like unto a Devon sunrise in June And yet she said: ^No, Master Trevelion, I shall never marry, unless I marry David; and if it be not destined we meet again on earth, I pray that we may meet in heaven • ' whereupon a lump came into my old throat, and I dropped on my unworthy knees and prayed to God, that, if it mkht be, as It could if in His great wisdom and goodness He would have it so, He would vouchsafe that ^ d Yarcombe be still alive, and destined to come home to u... woman who loves him; and if not, that they might come together in the New Jerusalem-the only golden city, my dear Raleigh • and may God help us to find it ! " ' " Amen i " said Raleigh. For a fortnight they rested on the Cayenne river repairing their vessels and refreshing the crews; and Raleigh called the place Caliana. He wrote to his wife, relating to her the report of his servant about Manoa, and said that, although not the faintest clue to the death nf no„.-^ u^^ ^ ' - '~-«Ti-vi iiau lurnca up, OTbat mim Dave JScen 267 the reappearance of his servant, Henry Sparrow, encouraged him to hope that after all the young fdlow might still be ahve. He wrote cheerfully of the voyage, not then dis- tressmg her with any of his troubles, and giving her some pleasant little incidents of the courage and intelligence of their son, Walter. Among other things, he wrote- "To tell you I might be king here, King of the Indians, were a vanity; but my name hath still lived among them. Here they feed me with fresh meat and all that the country yields ; and offer to obey me. Commend me to my son, Carew." CHAPTER XI "alas, poor dreamer !»» QH, those might-have-beens! Raleigh, King of the fc a;:bo ? '<="'/°™^^d, by way of Surinam and the Orinoco "f ,t,on to search for the gold mine on himse^ He co"L with V' fl'\'"r'" ''' '""'"^y c« *u * ^utbtec, with the fleet, a ong the coasf nf South Amenca ; and on December xjjh stood off Trin dad He assigned h,s old friend and servant, Captain Keifs" as commander of the Orinoco expedition ; and „kh him were Captam Trevelion, George Raleigh, st ^^ut^ nephew, and his own son, Walter. It was New Yea^^ e" when Ralegh landed at a village in Trinidad, close to Port Mer^r :t:T ^'''' ^" *--«'- j-- .rrs'^" tronM !, ^- ^^'"" ^''P^dition was meeting with trouble and disaster, unhappily, altogether ignorant of the importance of the Indian reports of a great WhTeK „/ th t now ruled in Manoa. Both Keymis anVrreTe, on^gLdtd the whole business as mythical. Though they me.la fvls who knew the territories on the borderland of M^noa and rea°d Of h"r "' ™"^ '"'•■' "••'"-'f' - ^ char! rat the .nW f ^°°P'' ""*' ''^""^ "-^ ^""'"8 «nd going far mland of caravans of llamas and of the making of roads ''Bias! iCioor dreamer I" 269 Raleigh's officers only regarded the stories as developments of the original myths and inventions of de Berreo, designed for their destruction. The Spaniards, however,' knew far more about Guiana than Sir Walter or his officers. They were marching in force towards the golden gates. What the dons had achieved in Mexico and Peru, they might well count upon rivalling in Guiana, even against the civilised opposition of the great White King. They believed in the European Inca, who had succeeded Topago. He was no myth to them. It had long been kno. a that their first expedition had been annihilated by the new monarch, alleged to be the sun-god's messenger anjd prince. De Berreo had ferreted all this out, and shrewdly suspected that the great White King was no other than one of Raleigh's lost officers. But unlike Sir Walter Raleigh, de BeiTeo was not discredited by his King. On the contrary, he had command of every kind of material support— ships, boats, men, money, authority ; and he was as cunning as he was energetic and persistent. Trevelion, who was by no means of a cruel disposition, had more than once expressed doubts of the wisdom of releasing de Berreo. The wily Spaniard's death would have been of incalculable advantage to the plans of Raleigh. In February, Sir Walter returned to Porto Gallo, on the mainland, anxious for news from the Orinoco ; which came on the 13th (unlucky day), announcing the death of his son. Keymis had attacked the Spanish settlement of San Thomd The Spaniards having struck the first blow, Keymis went for them with all his force. Young Raleigh led the pikemen. He was struck down as he was shouting, " Come on, my men ! This is the only mine you will ever find ! " Nothing could better show the loss of hope of the Keymis men in their search for the Caroni gold. The fight was gallantly maintained. Trevelion performed wonders. They took the town, and buried young Raleigh 270 trbe taibltc Iking Of manon of launches. They fell („,„ [ ^ """^ '" " ~"P'e those in the fi^t bo Jet km T "''". """^ "'" °f «as naturally discourted T p ""°""'''''- K'^'"'' on. The re't .2Z\J2 "°"" "^^"^"^ «<'"'= to San Thorns for ™ 1 T ' '" <^°""^«I""S a return Raleigh h.d nta e aTexp^d ,'::'• f ^T'"'' ^^^^^ own account, ascendta. th. n ^ '""" °" '"^ theGuarico. HtsvYews 'L T '° "' J"""'°" "'* than to minin^'^TL^r^rcrdT^'''''"'"'"'' • enough, he would have met . ^ °'^™'^^^ >>'=> voyage far command of the son o tl" r arw:;.:T'''r,r'" ""= shoulders with fate rZf "^ •' Men brush passingthrii,si?:;p:rrVwri:tr^ ''- r'- b A myth, the flattering invention nf n.^ Indians, who desfrpH f^ ,• '"^^""O" of the ousky or the'™al°ciot":l! .rS^o" t l"''"' P'""-' co.o.pirators to fascinate thXlLlr '"" '' Alas, poor dreamer f As if hJc k^ . ^"^^^ign. torn by the death of histn and thT;"' ""' "'^"'^""^ the expedition, he must feeM ! "'°"' '''"''"« °f of Keymis. Keymirbelilt lu '"'''™^ '° ""« ^eath upon Lm, hadr,;: itr rt^rhtrth^^^ retreated to his vessels, first burninTst tI I "'"' ""'^ upbraided him, and dilined to nder alee his"" «'""'' to the State. There was no ZZ^ Just.ficat.on leader than Raleigh- vet h. ^""^^' .°' ""'"' generous have treated an Old and ditingur;- '" '"''I '"''''''='' '<> of consideration, if notw th h, k "'"'"^' *'"^ » «"« as his son was k 1 d?K ™l' "o "d"' ,? '"'"^'^ "^*' had lost a hundred mh.! ""' ''^™ '^'^'^ '^ he King had Jntt- tT:7orT;"™--.-''-''e K.g had been satis«e7/;rTa;:fgh^r;:? <»n Ot t # ;ii "aiaal poor ©reamer!" ,7, that to go home empty-handed was to be disrr.-iced bevond atonement in the eyes of King James, while 'the attaT' the Spa„,,h settlement of San Thorn,! would not fail to be h ve no r" "" '"* -P-<='-ent. James would paralleled, overcome at sea and on land ; no sympathy w^th statements mvolving charges of conspiracy aLns'te Sparush fnends; no regard for English acclr o am! defeat of San I home, the gallant death of young Raleigh, or £.,u,k^ as he pronounced it in derision. Ralefgh wen for the gold. Where was it? Dejection, disappom »ent ,rr,.at,on that he bad been too sick to lead he expedition and die at the mine rather than give it up no doubt rnade the moment very inopportune at Ich Keymis submitted to Raleigh a letter to Lord Arundel (one excuse t' H ^'T'°'' "^ '^' expedition) of explanation, excuse, and apology. He asked for Raleigh's approva of the letter. Raleigh refused it absolutely "Is Z your resolution? Then, I know what course to take' replied the unhappy man; and he went out and shm Though it might fairly have been contended that San njure Spain, Gondomar contrived to over le this con- ten ion ,- and on Raleigh's return to England brokenTn health and fortune, James assured Spafn that "not ^," hose who had given security for Raleigh could save hir^^ from the ^llows." With vicious speed and unrXntilg malice, he threw Raleigh back into the Tower In face of a public disposition to resent the Spanish charges against Raleigh, and the possibility that a jury nught not be found to convict him, a Commission wL appointed to innnir^ inM *hp ----- •- - ^'„.. , 7 '^'^ "iuucr. Alter irequentiv examining the prisoner it reported that no legal judgment 27a Ubc Ximbltc mwQ or mama could be drawn against him "for any offence which he had committed as an attainted man." James had promised Spain and himself that Raleigh should die ; and he re- solved to call him to judgment upon his former sentence, of some fifteen years previously, which was accordingly done, as Campbell says, "with all the circumstances of iniquity and brutality that can well be conceived." He was taken out of bed in a fit of ague, and hurried before the Court of King's bench ; where, the order for his death being read, he was asked why execution should not be awarded. He offered justification of his conduct, but the Court would not hear him. The warrant for his execution, which the King had already signed, was produced; and the very next day, Thursday October 29th, 1618, he was brought to the block. He accepted the inevitable in a cheerful spirit; ate his breakfast, smoked his pipe, and went forth to death and everlasting fame. Dr. Townson, Dean of Westminster, expostulated with him on what seemed to the Churchmari an undue indifference to death; whereupon Raleigh said he never feared death, and as to the manner of it, though to others it might seem grievous, yet for himself he would rather die so, than in a burning fever. After some conversation with a few courageous friends, including his devoted comrade, Captain Sidmouth Trevelion,' who attended him on the scaffold, he concluded an address to the spectators by desiring them to join him in prayer to God, " whom I have grievously offended, being a man full of vanity, who has lived a sinful life, in such callings as have been most inducing to it. For I have been a soldier, a sailor, and a courtier; which are all courses of wickedness and vice." On taking leave of Lord Arundel, he entreated him to use his endeavours with the King that no scandalous writings^ to defame him, u. ue puuiisiicu alter his *'masl poor H)ccamcrl" ,73 death. Then, turning to the rest, he said, « I have a long journey to go, and will, therefore, now take my leave » Putting off his gown and doublet, he called to the executioner, to show him the axe. The officer hesitated "I pray thee let me see it," said Raleigh; "dost thou think I am afraid of it ? " Having received it from the executioner, he felt along the edge of it; and, with a smile, said to the sheriff, This IS a sharp medicine, but it is a sound cure for all diseases." The executioner knelt down and asked his forgiveness Sir Walter laid his hand upon his shoulder and granted his request. The officer then asked him which way he would lay himself upon the block. "So the heart be right," was the reply, "it is no matter which way the head lies." His head being struck off, it was exhibited on both sides of the scaffold; and then reverently conveyed away in Lady Raleigh's mourning coach. His body was buried in St. Margaret's Church ; his head being preserved by his widow, who survived him for nine-and-twenty years. Thus fell England's great warrior and statesman, Sir Walter Raleigh, a sacrifice to the malice and pusillanimity of James I.; whose tribute to the nobility and honour of his victim, considering the occasion of it, is an aggrava- tion of his offence against God and his country. Discover- ing, soon after Raleigh's death, that Spain was not likely to recompense lu un-English complacency, he made one of his own ministers write to his agent in Spain to let the Court know that they should be looked upon as the most unworthy people in the world if they did not now act with the sincerity His Majesty had shown in his dealings with them; notably, of late, "By causing Sir Walter Raleigh to be put to death, chieflv for thf^ ai.,ir..r r.f *u^^ satisfaction. Further to let them see how, in many actions 18 *1 »74 Zbe mbltc fifiifl or jflDauoa of late, His Majesty had strained upon the aBcction, of h.. people and , pecially i„ ,hi. ,as, coneemingSr Walter Rale,gh, who died will, a ,reat deal of coun,!- a„rr„n ».ancy. LasUy that he sl,ould let them knot C . I,"e ^trvee Yet to g,ve them content, he hath not snared h.m when, by preserving him, he might have given grr-tt sat,sfaet,on to his st.l.jeets, and had a, command upon . occa.,ons as useful a man as any prince in Christendom It £1. CHAPTER XII THE SPANISH ABDUCTION OF ZARANA PfiLUCA, QUEEN OF MANOA IVrOW it came to pass, that on the last day of the feast 1 >l of the sacred grove the Spaniards were at the gates of Manoa. Not in battle array; but, as it turned out, in more dangerous aspect. They were in the disguise of one of those great trading caravans that, in the reij, ^ of the Inca David, had increased in numbers and importance addmg enormously to tht wealth of Guiana and to the unique treasures of the golden city. It came about in this wise. During the long interview between Sir Walter Raleigh's first visit to the Caroni and his second expedition to the Orinoco, the Spaniards had made great advances towards the discovery of Guiana and the possible conquest of Manoa. Neither money nor lives had been spared in the adventure. Nor was the desire for vengeance altogether a silent factor in the matter. It had filtered through Indian sources of information how the first torce, under one )fdeBerreo's captains, nigh upon twenty years before, had fared at the hands of the usurper, whom they called the White King. Every plan that Raleigh had formed for advancing along the Caroni river to Manoa had been shrewdly conned by King Fhui^. and his advisers. The heartless James of England had left no stone unturned to rnake the great Englishman's forlorn hope abortive ; and, as n even Frovidence was against the English venturers, Sir 375 lai 'V »7« Ube mute Mm of /ffi»anoa Waiter as we have seen, sailed home only to exchange his m.serable bodily ailments and mental agony for the renewed torture of false accusation, which was to culminate in an ignommious death. The attack upon San Thomd, otherwise Guayana Vieia had left the city but little injured; and, with fresh t^ from adjacent islands that even Raleigh had overlooked, ft^= Spamsh settlement speedily became stronger and more powerful, politically and otherwise, the headquarters of the Gumna operations, the city that the Church and State had of the Church m those distant seas, the blessed legacy of If Raleigh had strangled de Berreo when he was in his LTr ^"T" ''^*''' ''"'' ''' ^™"'^ turned out, it might have been the one pardonable high-handed act that fate had ordained as necessary to English success in those Z7l!^ ''•'!fT "" *^ '"^" """^ -"• -<^ -'ch^ eye of the Spanish advance. By land and river, bodies of Spanish troops had durine everal years, been gradually making their wa'y through h! Indian territory to the borders of Guiana and the frontiers of Manoa. By dint of presents and promises of newer ce«!i:f H 't' ''*='"'''' ""^'^ "="* 8^^--! influence S certain Indian kings and chiefs, to give them free passage S the S T'"' °f '"*'^ '" ""* another'oc an which Ae Spaniards explained to them lay beyond the to sea With the aid of spies and the information of their own adv-enturous spirits, they had gained an approximate Idea of the situation and defensive works of Manoa Debouching into a vast plain, bordering a forest only a eague or two from Manoa, a Spanish force had encountered the caravan of a body of Manoan merchants on its return journey from a distant Indian Hn„^„™ .„ .u- -.,.. . c-.'w"i 4v tiic ^mwin City. SpanJsb awuctfon of tbe (Siueen of manoa 2„ It was made up of heavily burdened llamas, half-breeds heads, others w.th a kind of hand-barrow with tents and poles, and some half-dozen llamas in shafts, drawing cats so constructed that, in defiles where wheel might be m hand % ' '^"" '' ""'°^''=' '""' 'he carts carrfed Ty hand. 1 here was an armed escort, that was easily, however surprised and overcome as the caravan skirted heforlt where the Spaniards, having sighted them from a pofnro; vantage, lay m ambush. Escort and merchants mad a gallant stand that was fatal .o several of their number The Spaniards now put into practice a cunning and clarmg scheme for entering Manoa and making themsHves acquamted with the defences of the mountain defiles that were said to be impregnable, except to a bold and patriotic army willing to incur perils that could not fail to lead to great loss c .ife. It might be, the leaders of this adventurous party argued, that some subtle means of getting round the reputed fortresses and making a dash upon the treasures of the city might be discovered after the manner of their countrymen in Mexico and Peru where small bodies of resolute cavaliers had by stratCRv' and courage frequently defeated whole armies. Whi^e they admitted that their predecessors in the conquests of Mexico and Peru had no mysterious great White Kinj to meet, who had annihilated the vanguard of the boasted conquerors of Guiana, yet they had just experienced what ■night be done by a daring surprise. Accepting the omen as encouraging, and offering up a fervent prayer to the Virgin, with the blood of the infidel on their swords they resolved to enter Manoa. Dispatching the wounded and burymg the dead, they marched the living, with their llamas, baggage, and other impedimenta, into the forest. Finding a convenfpnf unth nnA « -.1 — : . . - I <^"^ « Cicauijg m no great distance, where at some time or other Indian travellers ' . M '^ 278 Zbc Mblte mm of mma had evidently encamped, they ordered the captives to unload such goods as were necessary for a few days' rest. Packages that contained precious stones they set apart for themselves, and otherwise lessened the mer- chandise, but not to such an extent as to make the caravan seem unusually limited. Then, placing the arms of their captives with the looted goods apart and under guard, they stripped them of such garments as were necessary to their own disguise, concealing their swords and bucklers and their unwieldy but useful firearms underneath the merchants' gowns, or placed re.dy with the baggage on the llamas' backs or m the carts. Under torture they extracted from the Manoan half-breeds particulars of the route and the passwords, and offering the chief merchant of the party bis life on condition that he would ride at their head as was his custom with the caravan, and utter no word' they swore him by the sun and the moon, by their own Cross, and by all he held dear (and he had a wife and three children, whom he loved) to obey them. He under- took the office ; but, with his oath, had in his heart prayed his god to exonerate its breach for the sake of his country- a reservation that the soldier-priest, who administered the oath, might well have counted upon ; for cunning is the weapon of the weak. One would ride by the side of the Manoan merchant who, at the smallest attempt at treachery, would cut his throat from ear to ear. The merchant accepted the conditions, and took up his staff. As he did so, he remembered that the Queen and the priestesses of the sacred grove were now celebratin<^ their feast of harvest; and he made a point of explaining to his Spanish commanders a feature of the route that had not been sufficiently marked by the tortured half- breeds. The merchant knew that two of his daughters maidens of the Court, would be in attendance on the Queen by the lake of the sacred frmv^ a«^ k^ r^ ^ .... resolved to take the road on the ri»hi a 1 ''"■ reach Manoa close upon the going f„L ^tt »'' ™f merchant confessed that they would ealvh/ w ""' "■" Without exciting the suspicion^At^r/^ltlllT^^^^^^^ "Gold and silver," said the merchant "if .h,, i desire." '"crcnant, it that be your "It is our desire, most courteous cabalem" «;.i l Spamard, with something of a mocking sm'e ^^ ""^ barte^wTh ''''^P'r'^' '"'' '» ^P'--'"^' ^ut ii would mher Darter with you in honest trade than " "Cease, offensive pagan beast!" was the hot reply We come as messengers of the Imperial sway o ou; Kmg who claims supremacy over all these countries and counts your great White King as his vassal." ' white If t ™" """^ '^"' "'^ P°''- fro" 'he great White god, the creator and sustainer of the worlrl •• J^ the merchant. °""' "^'^ " I fear me we shall have to cut thv duskv thr^.f come to the gates," said the Spaniard. ' "4 M^Z"" shouMst be humble and of a Ly tongue, 'ooltttl^" for hf thou2 "'' ''"■ '"' °''^^>" -"• 'he merchant for he thought once more of his wife and daughters. th. H f ^?'"'' °^ °PP°'"'°" ' Speak me true, or bv the Holv V,r.,n. rn ,„„, ,hee from crown to bm Lk What chan-e of city, what guards may we meet ODnosition ? "^^^^ rr XIUII W ? c emerge into the l.j._ I' '1 28o «be mbitc TRing of mmo» for'i'lTuwV™"' """ "''^"'"'- N^y, r speak you true lor 1 would have you speed in the rr,nfnr« Tf l ' So you may the quicker be ou of h' dty tC ^T pol.uted by your presence " ^' "'" ''^ in S:c:eef:h::k""' "^ ■""•='"" ^''"^'^ '° ^-P >>- t°ngue yqp as you come into the open von iiut '""^ that you cannot silence ZklZ^f anTth" °'?°''''"" receiving rooms and galteries a^e IrV 1 ""'"'""''^ prec^us tapestries, J, Z^Zll^ ^P^'''' " '"'■ sujrtLerera,*%rftrirtr r "^^ our holy Cross ? » ^' ^""^ '" ^^^^ of merchant!'' ''""^ '' ' ^^^^^^" ^^ ^-->" -id the By this time the vast mountain front of th^ Mo range was in sight. ^^ Manoan "Henceforth, then, thou wilt hold thy neace nn .. • and in due course the m\?''''''' ''^'' '"^ ^^™P«^. course the mighty gates swung back and tul caravan entered. Sentinels, one on each s de^f T reJk. o^ ;rr pTotei^'i'^rr^i^.^--'' . — .„„^ luaua passed, Spanfsb abftuctton of tbc fliuecn of /Canoa .8, Manoan make that were „ .k u f P'"°'' °^ ^"^lo- ■ bodies among the rocks Then" ' ?'' '" '""'^ steps that were cut T h. ' ^"'"^ '""'>' "P «>'= whL the Tab^ur: Iked rtrl^'^f '"^ '"'"' mentsthat opened and cloed he g«e rvt::k """'"• sion of the little force ,nrf f n ^ ""^ P"'^^'" guards, who were cool ? "P°" "'^ °"^^^ "™«<1 Tf .1, enemy m possession of the Bate If the army, supposed to be only a few lea Js in 1 They had covered a distance of some eieht or ,„ leagues, when they arrived -it the fi/t . !• ^" route, situated in the vallev An I u '"" °" "''= on the heights, and ti^r ^ t^t' ^^\7r T thp ««:>nf,v>^io i. u S^^^^t a distance for as «»;"::,„ 'i:'"'™ ^"^"""S ">« might stnke them a haUanl " *^'^^PP«^''■'"=«• The leade.- commanded made li ^"'"■■■P^est who spoke the Indian tongue made some ordmary courteous remark, at which fh! master of the station smiled in a dubious w yandTddL ed After h,m, and dispatch him with thy dagger > " he "afteTht 'a' dt"' ''^ "^'^^ ^"--"^ - *' "'de alter him, and brmg me his head." In an instant the soldier, casting aside his disguise, J - 28a xrbe mbitc fkirxQ of /iDaiioa rushed after the evident messenger ; and as he did so, at a signal, there was a sudden rush upon the little post, and the guardians were silenced with hardly a groan. The merchant, pale with terror, could only look on and hope that the messenger to the fort above might elude his follower; but ere the post was massacred the Spaniard returned with the bloody trophy which the leader had demanded. And now, hurriedly hiding the three bodies, the Spaniards left in the place of the murdered post two of their own men, and held a council of war as they marched forward. Some of the most venturesome of the company were for surprising the garrisons and holding them, while the rest carried to Caroni the news of their achievement and hurried up troops to the capture of the city ; but this was speedily overruled by the leader. While they were debating, each man speaking in a whisper, they came to the parting of the ways. The Spanish chief surveyed the two. That on the right seemed to present a severer route than the one they had come. Within musket-shot, he observed either a signal station or a half-disguised battery of guns, above which a flag was flying. On the left the roadway dipped in soft undulations of a cultivated path, with many kinds of flowers bordering the decreasing heights, as if the way should lead to some sweet and shelter^'d valley. The right appeared to lead upwards. There were murmurs from the left as of a village, and distant sounds of music. The Spaniard noted this, as he stood deliberating ; the merchant watched him with unconcealed anxiety, and was more than once on the point of speaking. The "gallant gentleman of Spain" who held guardianship over him kept the merchant in steady view. " By the right, gentlem jn ! " said the Spanish chief. « t>». *u^ i^A- I » ^^: I i.u_ 1 jjjf fciic icifc ; ^iicu lilc iiicrcuanc. Spanisb abOuctfon of tbc CJucen of ^anoa 28 V And hardly had the words escaped him than he fell before^ the sweeping sword of the " gallant gentleman of Spain," to be at once wrapped in a tent-cloth and strapped upon a llama; whereupon the caravan went forward, and within half a Spanish mile, as the sun was declining, they halted before a scene of surpassing beauty: a lake that reflected a vast white palace with glittering spires of gold, and on the brink a procession of women in radiant costume. The palace was in truth the temple of the sacred grove. It was approached from the lake by terraces of flowers and marble steps. Around it were avenues of trees, many bearing rich fruits ; at their base, closely trimmed lawns of blue-green grass ; the whole shut in by soft-outlined hills, the foothills of a mountain range clothed with graceful trees, and broken with hard limestone rocks, or, as the Spaniards believed, cliffs of gold-quartz, for' the sun gilded them with a strange and beautiful radiance. The god whom the Manoans worshipped was rapidly going down into the regions of rest, while the moon should be preparing to take upon herself the subdued radiance of the sublime ruler. It was the feast of the sacred grove, when the Queen of Manoa and her maidens vi.sitcd the priestesses of the earth's first garden, to bathe in the sacred lake and pray in the temple of the grove, doing honour in the day to the sun-god himself, and at night to pay the tribute of their devotion to the sun's mistress of the night, the gentler moon. It was a scene more like heaven than anything the Spanish host had ever seen or imagined. The warrior-priest crossed himself, and stepped back with holy awe and fear ; and the troop paused irresolutely. As the procession moved, so that the attendant priestesses partly faced the intruders, the women waved the caravan buck, not with fearful but with graceful gesticulations. They regarded the strangers simply as Manoans who had I I I "■1^ 284 Zbc mhitc fkUxQ of /iDanoa come from a far journey, and had missed their way or had forgotten the time of the sacred feast. The Spanish chief realising the situation at once withdrew his force, and the ceremonial of the women, whatever it might be, was continued. "Gentlemen, comrades," said the Spaniard, "yonder is the reward of courage : a temple of the gods, with its vessels of gold, its golden altar, its chalices of precious metals and gems, and its virgins for brave men. Off with your disguises, unlimber your arms, stretch your muscles. Twenty come with me ; ten on guard, in case of surprise Ready ? " " Ready I " was the prompt answer, amidst a bustle of preparation. ^ "Yonder woman, paler than the rest, wears a crown. Tis the Queen, perhaps ; harm her not ; we take her as our prisoner ; the chief priestess also. Waste no time in making love. Let each man carry such weight of treasure as he can conveniently march withal. The women gag-ed wo strap them upon a couple of llamas ; and then, away, fleet as may be, for our comrades at the gate and the open country. 'Tis understood, gentlemen ? » " 'Tis understood ! " they answered. "Then, onward! And may Saint Mary and Holy Church confound them ! " It was the work of but few minutes to fall upon the devoted women, seize the Queen and the most conspicuous of her companions, enter the temple and tear from the altar Its uncumbered treasures; to break down a glorious golden disc representing the sun, studded with diamonds, and cO carry off from a lower pedestal an emblem of the moon set m stones that seemed to repeat the orb in a thousand iridescent globes. But for the rough commands of the chief, more than one iiave iuxicn into the hands of the lustful wrpfoh mi"fTV.f 1 r-ii BmniBb Ub^nction of the Queen of manoa 285 Manoans. A mutinous trooper pursuing one of the dead merchant's daughters into a recess of the temple, fell over a balustrade, and lay there with a broken neck ; while his comrades, not counting his loss or unwilling to tarry one moment longer than served to fulfil their chiefs instructions made good their retreat. * Before the sun had left the world in darkness the marauders had regained the road where the two ways met and marched, with all the haste they could, encumbered by their loads, and having to urge on the llamas with their half-dead burdens. " So soon as we are free of these infernal passes, dear ladies, said the Spaniard, walking by the side of the Queen and the priestess, " the impediments to speech, that thrall you, shall be removed, and you shall be well treated " The signal lights and the battery fires burnt high above them. Prom these stations the gorge and deep valleys were black; and the Spanish bandits moved on even more safely from attack than they had come. At the open gates they found their comrades on guard ; and during their adventure a company of horse, from Caroni, had arrived, following the marks and signs on ro'^:s and trees of the adventurers on foot, who had marched from a point on the Caroni river where they had left their galleys A council of war was held. It was resolved that the mounted men should take charge of the two prisoners and the smaller articles of loot, and make straight for the river and dispatch their booty to the station at Caroni, and thence to Guayana Vieja. " We spare your lives," said the Spaniard to the tremblin- company they had left bound in the forest, « on condition that you pledge yourselves to make no attempt to loosen your bonds until the morning; if, peradventure, you disobey, we have forces near bv that will t^kf* cr»^A^„ t,^«„^^^ ,. 1 he prisoners promised, and the Spaniards, being already 2B6 Zbc TOlbttc fkim of manoa sufficiently burdened with plunder, left the guard to carry off what they could from the merchants' smaller treasures, and marched all through the night, often losing their path! and finding it by gleams of lightning, that at .Irst played upon them in sheets of glorious flame, to be followed after a time by a storm of wind. They groaned under their loads and cursed them, some of them throwing down heavy vessels of gold, and more than one their muskets. At midnight they heard the mysterious boom, as of cannon, that twenty odd years before had startled David Yarcombe.' They concluded that a Spanish force had encountered a Manoan column of pursuit. As morning dawned they surely made out the distant call of trumpets, but not of Spanish music, and they pushed forward with trembling knees, to fall upon them at last with prayers of thankfulness on sighting their galleys, ready to receive them, and unwind their moorings. One of their lightest boats had already rowed up the river, with the two women prisoners and certain of the booty carried by the reconnoitring troop of horse, that had continued its march in the direction of Guayana Vieja. The warrior-priest, who had now laid aside his sword and buckler and resumed his cassock, was jubilant at the success of the expedition. He had learnt from the captain of the river flotilla that the women prisoners had confessed their rank— the one as Queen of Manoa, the other the chief priestess of the sacred grove-to be utilised as mission- aries, being penitent, and received into Holy Church, or as examples of the Divine vengeance. CHAPTER XIII "there is no making treaties with SPAIN" AJOW David, during the feast of the sacred grove i, ^ ^u ^""^ ^''"^''''>^ * ^°'"^"'« ceremonial, had utihsed the period of his wife's absence at the palace of the sacred lake in exercising an armed force for river service offensive and defensive. Ever watchful of a possible Ztu\uT- ^' ''^' ''''' '^''' ^^^l^^^^^h would be made by the Onnoco and the Caroni, whether they elected to force the Manoan water-way or assailed her mountain passes H.s idea was to meet them on the river, or at their landmg-place, which he made no doubt would be at Caroni. The secret water-way, by which he had entered Manoa, was impregnable, all the more valuable to him now that he had organised a fleet of boats. He felt almost as safe concerning the mountain gateway and garrisons of the cliffs, though, as we have seen, the strategy of the wily Spaniard had found a path through the gorges and valleys under his very guns, the while he was playing at warfare, at assault and defence, on the Caroni his rowers and warriors attired in fighting costume, he himself equipped for war and for the parade of it, carrying his regal msignia, including his jewelled crown, his breastplate and sword, for his people loved show and colour. The royal standard, representing the sun, with minor banners quartering the moon and the stars anH th^ i;„Kf.,.- n _r Which were regarded as ministers of the supreme god of 387 % ^ 288 TTbc mbitc Idno of /iDaiioa day, were artistic examples of embroidery and jewelled 4ec^anon,with splashes of colour and quaintness of form yere sompiljing in the direction of what we know to- •J^y • ^ Japanese. Indian scouts and spies, whom he had trained in a socret service that he had organised, had brought him undoubted mtdiigence of the appearance of Spanish galleys on the Orinoco, near ti,e mouth of the Caroni river. One of his mex\, who had won the h.endshipof certain chiefs of the late King Topiawari, had indeed news of white men having appeared on the river, making for the mines (upon which Kaieigh had counted for the satisfying of bis avaricious triends), and had been surprised and massacred by other white men. David, pondering this report for many days had come to the conclusion that surely it must relate to an encounter between English and Spanish expeditions. The same scout had a vague story of an attack upon a Spanish city on the sea-board, at the mouth of the Orinoco : only to this extent had a whisper of Raleigh's second expedition reached the White King of Manoa, though he and his prowess had been proclaimed to Raleigh and his followers without the narrators ofTeifng to them the smallest possible suggestion of association with their lost comrade David had taught the Manoans, not only to build galleys and heavy boats for long river voyages, but he had got together quite a river fleet. He had navigated it through the secret water-way and exercised his crews in conducting a mimic warfare, having vanguards and rearguards of canoes, that dashed up against the current with almost as great a speed as they rode upon the rap'r^ flow The rowers in the galleys also irude headway ni i . v rate • and on the very day when the Spanish lioopers were galloping to Caroni with his Queen, had been within a few leagues of the place of their embarkation. But It ^d not been David's cue to exnose his "Cbcrcfano/»aWito ttrcntlcawftb Spain" 2-9 Know more of . movements ., was nerf^^.^irv r* wn, not until the pn.onot, ,vcrc ^elTL r^ay o the Span,* c„y „f Guayana Vicja that David w„ s.ar'led by the Manoa, trumpet rail, presently followed Uthe .•.ppcarance of a troop „f horse headed by his son, gallop n„ across he pain fro,n the direetion of Manoa. hL Et sank when he noted the pale, anxious fac. of the hd 'Si; Z^''""^'" ''""-■ ''•^'^-■-'e-rywas the God of Cl,r,st,an England and the sun-god of out I'cloved Manoa to prosper thy expedition." The lad slid from his horse and knelt at his father's feet; and when David had blessed him, he took him into his arms and kissed him. " Caplain Ikkaraka, dismount." A stalwart, dark-eyed warrior stood before th ■ King J hou art a just man and a patriot, of a noUle descent and a„,ong „,y „,„st trusted. Thou wilt rctnrn to the city, and„nder the eonnu.nd of l-arexes, d spatch in support of the Prince's troop a thousand hirse and foot prov,s,oned for ten days, with full equipment of enVaml comm,ssar,at. Let them march with all speed, .,e firs rendezvous Caroni, by the mines. There will I g,ve them further mstruetions. Thou shalt then strengll ,n th" garnsons between Manoa and the gates, and make tations along the valley, with flag signals and torches, each ution to be situated between every garrison on the cliffs. lanoa mu t suffer no second surprise. Until my return, , r my eirfd cinX;.'.""'"™" "'"^ °" "««' -'- ^' Tis too much hnnnnr " co,'^ TUi i_- .. . > --"«vi i.-vB^aiuKu; tnouuii. in saymg so, he looked fearlessly into David's eyes. ^9 290 zbc Mbitc mnQ of manoa " Does the responsibility awe thee ? " "No, good my lord of the sun; since, with thy com- mands, I shall surely receive an inspiration of thy wisdom." "I trust thee, Ikkaraka. I have loved thee ever since the day I first grasped thy hand and took thee into my counsel. Thou shalt carry with thee my orders in writing. And now, my son, forward ! and the gods be with thee. We shall meet at Caroni." Upon which the young Prince, reining up his steed, gave the word, "Forward!" The troop, raising a mighty cheer, rode off with its fluttering pennons ; and David and his chieftain made for the river, where the Inca, David, giving Ikkaraka his written orders, parted with him. " Ikkaraka, it is borne in upon me that Manoa may see me no more." " The great god forbid ! " said the chief. "Amen!" said David. "And yet I fear; for I know this enemy, of Spain. If it be thy lot to encounter him, fight to the death ; and if it be the will of the gods that they come in overpowering force, do not forget that death IS better than dishonour, and that there is no making treaties with the devil." And ere the day was ended, David, with his flotilla, was on his way to Caroni. It came to pass that at Caroni the young Prince Walter met a Spanish force, before the Inca's flotilla had come up. He fell upon them with splendid energy, and van- quished them. Leaving many dead and wounded upon the field, they retreated towards Caiamao in hot haste pursued by the Manoans, who were reinforced by a body of the late King of Tooiawari's Indian urarri^rc •I'opiawari's chieftains had been on the warpath since the ** trbere is no maWinQ Zvcatics witb Spain '» 291 failure of Sir Walter Raleigh's second voyage. The Spaniards, who had assailed Sir Walter's small party of explorers, had cruelly murdered a number of Indian labourers and taken possession of the mines; to be them- selves, however, attacked, and slain to a man. The Indian blood was up, and they hailed with delight the Manoan troop. The Topiawari men were superbly armed, with battle-axes, maces, and lances. Many also carried the lasso, which they used with deadly skill against the Spanish horse, pullmg the riders from their saddles, and killin- them with their axes. They wore doublets of thick quilted cotton, their shields were covered with tanned skins, and they had casques of silver and gold, ornamented with flaming jewels. Their arms were chiefly of copper, tempered almost to the hardness of steel. Leaving a small company to await the arrival of his father the Inca, Prince Walter laid siege to Caiamao. In the night the Spaniards fled, and were driven into the Orinoco by the Indians; who, throwing off their doublets, swam into the mighty stream and slew such as had not already sunk under the turbulent waters. CHAPTER IV VICTIMS OF THE SPANISH INQUISITION IN the meantime, ignorant of the havoc the outer bar- barians were making upon their forces, the Spaniards at Guayana Vieja were engaged in their civilising and re- ligious work. Captured off Trinidad, an English crew, driven by stress of weather into the Gulf of Paria, had been sent as prisoners to Guyana Vieja. Having been imprisoned for many months, they had been separately, on several occasions, called before the inquisitors, and each examined of the faith, and commanded to say the Paternoster and the Ave Maria and the Creed in Latin, which most of them could not say otherwise than in the English tongue. Then, one of their number, who knew how to speak in Spanish, explained that he knew how to say the same in their own country language. This was en- dorsed by a priest, who, being inclined to treat them with some compassion, was rebuked by the Chief Inquisitor; and this priest was the same whom the readers will remember at the Mitre House of the Lysons, in London. The officers then demanded of the men, upon their oaths, what they did believe of the Sacrament, and whether there did remain any bread or wine after the words of consecration. " Yea," or "No"; and whether they did not believe that the " Host," of bread which the priest did hold up over his head, and the wine that was in the chalice, was the very itui_ Kiivi jji_iitut uuujr ui uui i^uiu jcsuo v^nrist, " k'ea," or 89a ll^tcttms of the Spanfsb 5nqiU5!tfon 293 "No"; to which if they answered not " Yea," then there was no way hut death. Then they would demand what the bewildered sailors remembered of themselves, what opinions they had held or had been taught to hold, contrary to the same, whilst they were in England; to which, for their safety they were constrained to say what they never did believe, nor had been taught otherwise than what they said. Thereupon, the cruel and cunning Inquisitors would charge them that that they did not confess the truth, and that they should make better answers, or they would be made to do so. And so, coming before them again, the poor sailors would tell the truth, and yet claim that they desired to believe what their Inquisitors wished ; for the men hoped to be thus released, that they might go home to their wives and families in England. **If," said the one who spoke Spanish, "we have declared or thought, in our ignorance, anything, in England or else- where, against our Lady, or any of the blessed saints, we are heartily sorry for the same and are very penitent thereof, and beseech your reverences and excellencies to be merciful unto us for God's sake, considering that we came into these countries by force of weather and against our wills, and have not wittingly done anything against your laws and customs." Nevertheless, they were from time to time racked and otherwise tortured. During their paroxysms of pain they said things that were considered sufficient for the Inquisition to proceed to judgment; and thereupon they caused a mighty scaffold to be erected in the market-place, over against the head church, and fifteen days before the day of their judgment, with the sound of a trumpet and the noise of the aUaSa//es, which are a kind of drum, they assembled the people from all parts of the city, before whom it was then solemnlv nror.ia,-5>,o^ fu„*. ...u would, upon such a day, repair thither, they should hear 294 Ube IPClbtte mwQ of /iDanoa the sentence of the holy Inquisition against the Engh'sh heretic Lutherans, and also see the same put into execution. Now, it was at this unhappy moment that the flotilla of Spanish boats arrived from Caroni, with the two prisoners on board, Zarana.Peluca, Queen of Manoa, and Adelenda Koomari, the chief priestess of the sacred grove. They were handed over to the "Sister in God," Rebecca de Salis, a grim, wizened thing, more typical of the fabled witches of Endor than anything human, the confederate of that Papist spy and traitor, Anthony Kennock, who fell before the sword of David Yarcombe in the days of his youth at Littleham. She addressed the poor sufferers in Spanish and in English. Zarana Peluca had often heard David speak to himself in the latter tongue, and a light came into her eye and a flutter of hope to her heart at the sound of it. But she could make no answer, except in her own tongue and in the Indian, in which she begged to know why she and her sister-captive had been maltreated, and why they were to be shut up in a dark cell. The sister of Satan laughed and made mock of them, and presently brought to them the priest of the Lysons, who came with a masked officer of the Inquisition. The member of the Holy Office ad- dressed them in Spanish. I'hey replied, first in Manoan and then in Indian. The latter he understood, and there- upon asked their names, which he wrote down in a book. " I am Zarana Peluca, the daughter of Tapago, the Inca of Manoa and Emperor of Guiana, and wife of the Inca David, the present reigning monarch. And I demand from you, whoever you may be, the treatment that is becoming to a Queen." " Your demand is that of a traitor and usurper," said the officer, "against our Sovereign, King Philip of Spain." " I know him not," said the Queen. " And your faith ? In whom do you put your trust ? " Wtctims Of tbc spaiifsb JnqmaJtfon .95 nav-^""' "^ ""' *' ^'™"S -m of my consort, th. Inca ■' We shall see how that will avail thee," said the officer ■ The officer crossed himself, and mumbled a hasty praver r^srut^r *^ "" ^^^-« ^^ ™" "And the articles of your belief?" " I do not understand you, sir." " In whom do you put your trust ? " h.-rc!r '^l ^""^ °^ ""^ ^"''"' ^""^ ^" ihc strong arm of his^son and servant on earth, the Inca David.'" the S -r^ '^"^'^^^^ ^^^' ^-"'•^^•'" -^^^--d Then, raising his hand for a signal, two other officers entered, covered to their feet with long grey robes nwhTh ■ !? ° '?"''5' "^« """S' courageous of mortals. observer. Once, for a moment, he attmcted the attention of the Inqmsitor by a suppressed exclamation. He had nofced the nng on Zarana Peluca's finger. It "a! the nng that Mary Lysons had given to David Bmd them," said the Inquisitor fort?' Th J"'"' "''^^^^ *' *°'"^"'^ ""'^' ='"d led them no word y "'^ !'""" "' *^ P™^'- ''"' """^d r t^^^ «"^^^vards they were condemned ; for news en brought m that the Inca of Manoa and his son had 296 Zbc mbitc mrxQ of /iDanoa having defeated the Spanish forces beyond the river, were now threatening Guayana Vieja. The Governor had no fear of any force that might be brought against the citadel, which was splendidly garrisoned and armed, both on its river front and by land. At the same time it behoved the Church to assert her authority and appease offended God, by doing justice upon His enemies, and purging the world of witchcraft by the sacred flames of a righteous vengeance. Therefore the people of Guayana Vieja were warned to look forward to an exhibition of the Justice of the Holy Inquisition, supplementary to that previously announced. The night before the appointed day of punishment, the priest of the Lysons was permitted to enter the cell of the rebel Queen, the witch who swore by the sun and had yet fainted at the pressure of the iron crown. " Madame, believe me," he said, " I grieve for you, and would fain help you." " I thank you, sir. I saw the spell of kindliness in your face." "You wear a curious ring upon your finger; may I see it?" She held out her hand. " I do not desire to question you against your will or for your harm ; but I have seen that ring before." " * Give it to your wife,' was the command with which the Inca, niy loving husband, received it from a holy sister in the distant land that was his home." The priest examined it, and reverently bent his head and kissed it. " 'Tis the same, dear lady ; I knew the sister who placed it on his finger, a holy devotee, a saintly woman of Holy Church. Strange are the ways of the Lord I And by that solemn and holy token, I must also know your hujrband, whom you call David. 'Tis miraculous ! What else can you remember ? Was the other name Yarcombe ? " tUJctfnia of m Spanisb Snqufattion .97 ness, Uavid Yarcombe, the Inca of Manoa." h. . ^°V\.'^ "°'^ '^°"'"' °f ^°^' h^'P 'his woman!" he cned. falhng upon his knees. "O Chris,, help he < If .t be not wthin Thy boundless providence to save her Z hereto TV "' "f '' •'"^^"'^'^ '° "- >'P' then take her to Thme everlasting kingdom. Spare her. O God, all pangs of purgatory. She knoweth not what she hath said. An outcast who hath never heard of Thee Thv land'" "'"f""^ ""*'P^ "^« B-atest work of Ind this i n""' T lu"''''" ""'^ ^'"""■y f-g'v^'-ess. And this I pray, for Christ His sake, Amen ! " Dost so pray, indeed ? '- said a harsh voice, as a grim figure entered from a secret door, and laid a heavy G upon the unhappy priest and dragged him thence.^ Spa^is'h'Te "' n" '"'"'"' ""^"^^ "^^ ""-^^ in bpanish The poor Queen could only feel that the priest had made supphcation on her behalf, and in this h.d offended his Order. She sat down upon the s tonf inl and the tears welled into her eyes In her heartshe wondered why her own god had forsaken he She pondered over her life for years past, to find in what she had offended; and concluded, with gentle resignation that her pun.shment was due to the grave fault that she had, perchance, been too happy. Her heart was sore for the love of David and her son, and full of pity for the pnestess, her s.ster of Manoa, whom she had not seen smce the first night of their imprisonment. She wonde ed what sor of a god her gaolers could worship, since he rejcced m such ministers as those who, behind a mask comn>,tted cruelties beyond belief, and c'alled the seS ■n^S '""'' ^""^ P""""«dto her a "sister CHAPTER XV THE TERRIBLE AFFLICTION OF DAVID, AND THE DOOM OF GUAYANA VIEJA NOW, when the morning of the dav of the judgment of the Inquisition had come, there appeared, on the banks of the Caroni opposite to the citaael, the force of Prince Walter of Manoa, with his Indian allies ; and there they pitched their tents. Their trumpets and drums could be heard in the city ; and presently, the thunder of the guns of the citadel, the balls of which, however, fell short of the encampment. They made threatening splashes in the water, which the Inca David observed as he brought his flotilla almost within range, but at a sufficiently safe distance lower down the river, to enable him to make his dispositions for conveying troops across without interference. First, however, he hoisted a white flag, and sent a canoe with a message of parley and a generous offer of withdrawal. " Release unto me my wife, Zarana Peluca, and the sister Adelenda Koomari, together with such English prisoners and Indians as may be in your hands, and I will leave you and your city unmolested. Deny me, and I swear, by the God of Christian England, the gods of Manoa and Guiana, and the name of Queen Elizabeth, that I will not leave a stone of your city standing, nor a soul of your people to tell the story of Manoan vengeance ! " With much ceremony and a mighty work of drawbridge and the opening of ponderous water-gates, the canoe dis- 298 Ttbc TTerUble affliction of iDaviD 299 appeared ; and, after awaiting its return for a long and vexatious time, the drawbridge was lifted, the ponderous gates reopened, and the canoe thrust forth into the stream with the dead body of the messenger arrayed in a ghastly yellow robe and on its head a hideous conical cap, bearing the defiant and brutal answer of the Governor and the Church : "Guayana Vieja's answer to infidels and traitors." A yell of indignation arose from five thousand throats, as the Inca's interpreter read out the Spanish message; and for a moment David needed all his power to prevent his forces from dashing into the river and attempting the citadel with their knives. But David explained to them the nature of the Spanish defence, its formidable arquebuses and muskets, and its cannon, much heavier than the guns they carried in their launches and galleys ; and he showed them how, by patience and valour, they should land his son's troops on the city's side of the river, and take it in flank, while he besieged it in front. The martyred messenger was stripped of his gruesome dress, which wus converted into a kind of banner to be carried at the head of the attacking force, and the body reverently placed for burial. Then began the transport of Prince Walter's men across the river; and David rejoiced to see thaw a Spanish force was issuing from the city to con- test their landing. Meanwhile, the great market-place of the city presented an ammated, and, to truly Christian men, a shocking spectacle ; but, in those days, not an infrequent one among the settled cities of the Spanish empire as far away from the centre of her highest civilisation as Mexico and Peru. It was with enthusiasm and delight that the ^rried the fiery cross to the banks of the Orinoco; and no wonder the roots of their grim system struck deep, to bear hideous fruit, even in nur nxon An,, ;„ 4.u^ .._i • i ■, - — ^5ti>> ill i:ic uiiiiuppy isianas oi the Philippines and Manilla. The prisoners had been tk 300 ube TObite Iftino of mama prepared for their part in the day's spectacle, arrayed in hideous yellow gowns marked with the Cross, and on their heads a kind of fool's cap grimly adorned, each victim with a rope round his neck and a green wax candle in his hand. The procession was accompanied by guards, and priests in monkish attire. In the market-place the prisoners found a great assembly of people, in such throngs that certain of the Inquisitors' officers on horseback were constrained to make way for them. So, coming to the scaffold, they went up a pair of stairs and found seats prepared for them, every prisoner in order, as he should be called to receive his judgment. ... And all the while there could be heard the rumble of the guns which the Spaniards had brought to bear on the landing-party, that was to force the defences of the city ; no mean task. Though the garrison had no fear for the result, the unusual music of the battle intensified and gave a sense of hurry to the judicial proceedings. The first batch of prisoners being seated, the Inquisitors entered the scaffold from another stairway, and the chief justices with them. These high and mighty mini, ters and officials, being placed under the cloth of estate in accord with ^heir degrees and callings, there *^ollowed, up the same stairway, a great number of friars, white, black and grey, to the number of about three hundred. These being duly seated, a solemn «Oyez» was made, silence com- manded, and the severe and cruel judgment began. . . . One, Radford, the chief armourer of the ship Devoma, was adjudged three hundred stripes and condemned to the galleys, as a slave, for ten years. After him came John Brown, Peter Grey, Andrew Mooney, James Doolan, John Keyes, and William Nottage. They were condemned to leceive from one to three hundred stripes, on horseback, and with the galleys and slavery to follow. Others were called, and committed for lighter punishment ; and then ramp r^nrnf^linc or» Tv.*r.U.^^>. iijr r.:- t» . . - ,.^,,, „., *xi3«i«aii, iviuiiiinc reiers, ana james ^be tterrtbic affl(ctlon of 5at>i& jo, Martyn, Englishmen, who, being condei. . to be burnt stake. Wh,Ie their last cries went up to heaven amidst flames and smoke and the jubilant shouts of the multitude the second batch of prisoners entered the mnrkct-place a heartrendmg p.cture, that drew from the crowd a andTm- Itir '^' '" ""'* '""<= "^ ^"-'^'"^ of pity First, came the Lysons' priest, wearing his St Benito wuhas^uch dignity as he had worn his ^300^ hf Tac lighted by an expression of heavenly fervour. Across his headgear was written "Contumacious" and "Traitor" Many a tear trickled down pale faces at this unexpected sight for the priest was known throughout the city for his for h^ t r T' '^^ '^"""^ P^^^^ ^ ^ P-^' - ^ thousand for his tolerant penances, his consideration for the ignoran and the rebellious And, thank God, there were man such m the Papal ranks-priests who carried their lives in their hands on missionary work, as sincere then as now: and sweet and kindly women, who would have sacrificed them- selves for others then as they would to-day. If only thl system of Rome could be adapted to the sweet humanities of many of its religionists, it would come nearer than it is alas I to that simple, beautiful and humane teaching of the Saviour Who must have suffered more in heaven, looking upon what has been done on earth in His Name, than ever He suffered during His Divine pilgrimage The priest of the Lysons took his allotted place for judgment ; and then came Zarana Peluca, in her yellow robes and tan cap, a great red Cross woven on her gown, a long unhghted candle in her hand, and by her side masked sisters of mercy." Her olive complexion was «/ ™'f *^°""' °f the cruelties inflicted upon the captured crew is adapted from the narrative nf M.Uo t^u-.u:-. ,.....r .^ " Hakluyt. ". " ^ ^""!F3 K^o<^2) recoiaed by 11 ^) 'V f 301 Zbc mbitc •Rliifl or /IDanoa almost grey in the sunlight, and her eyes drooped beneath their long silken lashes. She walked as one in a dream, with uncertain footsteps, and had to be assisted to her seat of ignominy; which would surely be counted in heaven as a martyr's throne, thou-h she had been born and bred in a faith that had not heard of Jesus. The heart of the multitude had never been so keenly touched as at sight of these three captives : the priest, whom so many loved, the tender, sweet-looking Queen of the worshippers of the sun, and the infidel priestess, whose presence seemed to fill the market-place, as she turned her great fearless eyes upon the crowd. When the grim sister who alone among the few women attendants was unmasked, put forth her hand, as if to assist her to mount the scaffold, she thrust her aside with an action of infinite scorn. Then came the judgment in formal terms, pronounced by the Chief Justice with a ferocity that was intended to impress the populace with the triumph of the Church over Satan, who had assumed these beautiful shapes the better to deceive the unwary, witchcraft being one of the most evil of Satan's instruments, as was evidenced in the power this woman, who called herself the Queen of Manoa, had exercised over their brother, this now contumacious and revolted priest. As the Chief Justice pronounced the decree of death by fire upon the three prisoners, not a word of which either of the women understood, the priest of the Lysons cried, "OGod, have mercy upon the innocent!" Whereupon It seemed as if the very earth shook beneath their feet; for the heavy battery of the citadel's guns, one after the other, in quick succession, began to play upon the Manoan flotilla, that, having successfully landed the young Prince Walter^s troops, now laid siege to the water front, gun answering gun, musketry answering musketry. A cry of alarm arose from the multitude; and there was a hurried Ube Zettible aaiictton of H)av>» 303 Chief officab. The situation was made more alarming by he marchmg of t,.,^^ across the market-place and , he ncreasmg clamour of the battle without. Amidst the 1 he viceroy arose and came to the front of Te scaffold to address the people. He was heard with difficulty bul V.« nearest him repeated what he had said to 'other :de:s.:or "" -^^"'-^ °' '^ ^^-^ - -> -^i Jl I''f ^'°^^"^ '''°"" *"'' ''°''^ "^« disturb the sacred and holy scene of judgment is the outbreak of mad 'e raL^r""°' "' '"'""' "'"^^ ""'» accompliceTof thi " Yes I To the fire I " shouted some ; and " Mercv for On the instant, howeyer, the prisoners were seized bv already haI.Hr f ""^ '"' '^"' f^r them, the faggots already half piled for the sacrifice; the hideous pyres beine be'yl'tim""^?'- ''T """" ^^«^- P-kTarcll the victims, and simultaneously lighted. The only .,«n he Queen made was to take from her finger a rin.. wh ch w ettcr Tt '': """' "■" ''°"' ™' -"^ "P- '^- sweet face. As the fire mounted towards her waist and then began to lick the hideous Benito into tS ' she raised and kissed the loye relic ; and, almost immed Ltely disappeared in the flames. The priestess died w *ou; uTbi tl"' '^;'f f ' """• "^^ ^-« '"-e-««*ey, What has " They were tried for heresy." " Tried ? By the Inquisition ? " " The same." ; Well, they are alive, eh ? But racked-only racked ahve?" exclaimed Da-'i ^--^-^^ ^- •- . ""V racked— terror. '""' ^^^'"^ "^mseii with anxiety and 3o6 XTbe Mbtte fking of /Danoa "Tell him," said the viceroy, addressing the Chief Justice. " Signor," said the Chief Justice, " we cry you mercy j and yet we have but carried out the laws established for the government of the city and the Church, by the authority of » " Stop your damnable apologies ! What have you done with your prisoners ? " Then, turning to an officer by his side, he said : " Seize me this vile ruffian, and bring him hither." A brawny warrior rushed upon the scaffold, and hauled the Chief Justice to the feet of the Inca. "Tell me, ere I have thy vile throat cut from ear to ear, where are the women — my Queen and her priestess sister ? " " Yonder," said the Chief Justice, pointing to the burning pyres. " By God ! 'Tis as I dreamed I Burning, while we were on the threshold ! Oh ! my God, I thank Thee that Thou hast taken to Thyself my beloved son, ere he should have had to bear such sorrow as this ! " And, letting fall his sword, he buried his face in his hands and wept. His troopers murmured; and the witch, Rebecca, pressed forward and touched the heel of his boot. Pre- sently he looked down and beheld her. She said : " For a truth, Master David Yarcombe, she is dead. And I did tend her to the last." " Woman, who are you ? " he asked ; his voice trembling, his face haggard. " She who kept house for Anthony Kennock." " Speak, then ; tell me all." But the murmuring of his people interrupting her, David turned to them, and said, in their tongue, " Have patience yet a iutle while, and ye shall be satistied. This woman XTbe Zmiblc amictton of wmti 307 I know. She speaks r.y old language, and knows what I desire to learn. Well ? " She wore upon her finger a ring thou hadst given her. There was a priest who knew thee in London, at the Lysons . He saw the ring, and made opportunity to converse with the lady. He told her he knew and loved thee ; and that a holy sister had given thee the ring, for thy wife, when thou shouldst marry. And for this, he being contumacious, they burnt him; yonder are his ashes! smouldering. The pyre on his right hand is that of thy wife ; that on the left the pyre of the woman they called a priestess." "Is this so?" David asked, turning to the Chief Justice, who still stood at his side, clutching his stirrup. "'Tis so, indeed," he said. David rode to the three pyres, the smoke of which still ascended to the sky; and after a few moments of meditation he turned to the woman and asked her for his wife's last words. « There were no last words," she said, " except from the priest who was fain to live even while the faggots burnt and he cursed like unto any pagan, and called down the vengeance of God upon his murderers and theirs, and died proclaiming for them the punishment of hell ! " " Then so be it ! " David exclaimed. And as he said so, there was a sudden outburst of battle in the great street north of the market-place. A body of Spaniards had rallied, and were being led against the Indians ; while the Manoans, having been held in check so long, had permitted another body of Spaniards to re-form and attack. And David was glad; for it stirred his blood at a moment when he was inclined to fling himself upon the eround and d'e q'" ^^/^cnoiV K^-.^ri. ^r ^ i „ 'i.-.-.ti, i^cicis, \ji u buji wuuin ne loved almost as well as the sweet wife that bore him. As fate i 3o8 Zbc TObite mm of /iDanoa would have it, Prince Walter had fallen almost as Sir Walter's only son had fallen, while gallantly leading the assault. But that David had carried him in his arms to the boat ordered back to Manoa to deposit the body of the Prince in the royal tomb, and that of the murdered messenger in a place of honour, he might perchance have been in time to have saved the prisoners. While he sat his horse for a few moments in this medita- tive and irresolute mood, an Indian chief touched his arm and whispered, " Oh, Inca ! Grief to-morrow ; the battle to-day." Thereupon, he put spurs to his horse, and led his royal guard into the thick of it ; and great was the slaughter. It was at sunrise when the devilish ceremony of judg- ment had begun; so that it was barely noon when the Manoans broke their way into the city, and from the moment that the chieftain whispered into David's ear: "Grief to-morrow; the battle to-day," the bloody work went on, even unto the going down of the sun ; and when the moon rose, Guayana Vieja was in flames, and the doom prayed for by the priest of the Lysons was fulfilled. The Indians, let loose upon the corrupt men in power, the faise and cruel justices, the haughty ofilcials, the bloody executioners, massacred them to a man. Rebecca flung herself from the ramparts, to escape the axe of a Topiawari chief who knew her for a witch, and she was drowned among the many Spaniards who fell in the river fighting, and became food for the amphibious beasts that infested the lower banks of the Caroni. i ]■: Book VI PEACE CHAPTER I HOMEWARD BOUND "pvESPITE her sacrifices of "Lutheran dogs" and X^ the two fair women of Manoa, the Church failed to secure sufficient aid from heaven to protect the city or its people. Manoa and the Indians wreaked a terrible ven- geance upon the Spanish settlement. The Spaniards in their dealings with the native races whom they had conquered had set them a bitter example. David found himself powerless to stay their hands. They plundered never a shrme, nor carried off a single trophy ; but they slew without regard of sex, and at last, obeying the trumpet calls of the Manoan chiefs and the signals of the Indian leaders, they fired the city, thus hghting a pyre the embers of which may be said to illuminate the pages of history to this day By the light of this flaming torch, David, wounded in mind, body, and soul, saw the remains of his son carefully wrapped in llama cloth and covered with the brocaded banner of his favourite troop, guarded by trusted sentinels and dispatched, with full instructions for burial in the sacred tombs of the Incas ; and with lovin? messages to Ikk.^rnVa and his people, and a tender farewell. .309 » 3IO ubc TObite Ikina ot /ftanoa " My mission is fulfilled," he said, " lest it please God to send me once more to the city of the first garden, in company with my great chief, the Raleigh of whom I have often spoken unto you. If it should please the gods to once more place the destiny of Manoa and Guiana in my hands, then will I return unto you, with a mighty force, that shall confirm an alliance between my sovereign and my God and your sovereign and your god, and shall make you joint masters of the world. If otherwise it be God's will to take me hence to His own kingdom, or to give me a few years for meditation and reflection in my own country, then do we part, until we meet again, such as are worthy, in the golden city of heaven itself." Chiefs and soldiers, Indians and Manoans, prostrated then. Jves, and David took his leave. He embarked in his own galley, with a sufficient force for its defence, and made his way to the Gulf of Paria, where he had heard of a small fleet of English ships that had put in from stress of weather and were, happily, capable of resisting any treacherous or open attack of the Spaniards. ^^ " It may be that I come back to you," he said at parting. "As I came to you, without premeditation, so do I leave you. The personal ties that bound me, my wife, your beloved Queen, and my son, your beloved Prince, are broken. It has pleased God. My heart will ever be with you. But, for yet awhile, my fate seems to call me hence. I go to report myself to those who sent me ; to give an account of the golden city of Manoa, the courage and nobility of its people ; and, perchance, to return, with an escort that shall sweep Spain for ever from the seas. In the meantime I leave you, and Manoa and Guiana, in strong, wise hands. Love one another; respect your women ; obey the laws of the Inca and his C_o]*^cil^ keep your weapons as bright as your honour, and both at ihc service of the State ; raise a monumental t)omewarb JBoun^ 311 shaft to the memory of Queen Zarana Peluca and Prince Walter, the son of David, the Inca; hold me in your heart of hearts, as I you ; remember me in your prayers And so, God be with you ; and farewell ! " The galley pulled off, and was presently swinging at a great pace down the Capiarai river, to join the flotilla that was now moored off the Spanish settlement of Caiamao, where the Manoans- and their Indian allies held a solemn feast of victory and thanksgiving, their joy tempered with a touching resignation, that counted its triumphs dearly l)Ought with the 1 .sses of brave chiefs and comrades. * ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ With a haughty gesture David waved aside the attentions of the crew, and watched the Manoan galley as it dis- appeared behind a screen of tropical foliage. Then, turning with a sigh, he gazed through his tears upon the scene immediately around him. The aglish sailors had received David from the galley with an amused curiosity. They did not know what to make of him, or the dark olive-skinned oarsmen and warriors whom he had commanded. They had seen plenty of Indians ; but Manoa was to them, as it was to Trevelion and Raleigh's best friends, a mythical country. The captaiii remarked to his sailing-master that the beggars looked like a superior race of Peruvians, lighter in colour, more graceful of build; but who the devil was this white chief, with his fantastic costume, his regal manner, and his long, acute features ? ... It was not, however, unusual in those days for Englishmen to get themselves up in strange costumes. Officers' 'iniforms, for example, were not introduced into the Navy until 1748; and it was not until after the Crimean war that the men had a regulation dress. In our greatest naval victories, including the battle of Trafalgar, our men fought in curiously varied attire= One of the most picturesque figures in Hawthorne's " Scarlet Letter" '•mmm%r» 3" XTbe TObite mm of /iDanoa is the English mariner fresh from the Spanish Main ; and the adventurers, in Millais' famous picture of "The Boyhood of Walter Raleigh," are sailors, who owe their costume to their own fancy and to no official order or ship's regulations. It will, therefore, be understood that it was not alone David's remarkable dress that ex- cited curiosity, but his personality and manner, his regal air, the boat that had hailed them, the palaver, partly in Indian, partly in Spanish and English, in which it was agreed to take the strange chief on board as a passenger, the splendour of the equipment of the galley and the striking costumes of the rowers and guards, with their muskets, lances, and swords, not to mention the culverin in the bow, something entirely novel outside an English or a Spanish vessel. The whole thing was to them a sudden revelation of the possibilities that lurked far away behind the forests and mountains, in the dim distance, where enterprising mariners vowed the New World was thick with mighty cities and treasure-houses of gold and silver. . . . But hardly had the galley disappeared than the captain and his wondering crew found themselves stirred by other motives than those of mere curiosity. " The poor devil has swooned ! " exclaimed the captain, catching David in his arms. ** Lend a hand here." They laid him aft, upon a deck-hammock of dried palm leaves. The captain, his arm under the passenger's head, managed to pour a few drops of brandy down his throat; and, while calling for the ship's doctor, removed the fighting crown of Manoa from the sufferer's head, the thin gold breastplate and jewelled belt and sword from his body. " Mercy on him ! " exclaimed the captain, " he's wounded ! How, in God's name, he could have walked— his boots are full of blood ! " Ripping the lower leather of David's right boot with his t^omewar^ 3Boun& 313 knife, so that it might the more easily be sh'pped off, the leech appearing, they discovered an ugly wound, not near the ankle, as they expected, but in the fleshy part of the leg. It was almost dry. "As if," remarked the captain, • " there was no more blood left in his body ; his face is as grey as a sailcloth, his lips I.kc the dead." Prising open the man's teeth, with the haft of a jack- knife the doctor was slowly pouring brandy down his throat, and begging the bystanders to give him air ; where- upon a youngster, rushing below, returned with a palm leaf. The captain smiled upon the lad, and, taking the natural fan, plied it gently over David's face. The chiefs and comrades of the Inca David might well be forgiven for not havmg observed that their King was wounded, for he was not singular in carrying upon his person the red badges of the hot work in which they had been engaged. By the captain's orders David was removed to a berth, undressed, and put into clean sheets; for it was a well- found ship, and the captain was something of a sybarite m the way of luxuries, and had a good wife at Plymouth who loved him well. When David « came to," he was in a fever. The leech was surprised, not to say aggrieved, at this ; seeing, ac- cordmg to his theory, that David's loss of blood should have protected him from such an attack. Indeed, the ^ leech was disappointed that he had had no excuse for the use of the lancet, with which instrument he was ready to attack every malady. David would probably have died on his hands, as it was, but for the overbearing and masterful disposition of the captain, who insisted on giving him frequent spoonfuls of the gravy of stewed meat, varied with biscuit sopped in wine. He was a very .^ -o-^iioii^ai ;juiiiiiianuer, mis L^aptam ilarry Hawkins, a relative of the famous Hawkins, and therefore 314 Ubc Mbite Mwq of /lianoa inspired with something of a nol)le obstinacy of character. Moreover, the doctor, be it said to his credit, had a useful compound of drugs and simples, that he invariably used to keep life in the bodies of those whom he had weakened by blood-letting. Between the two, the marine egoist being to the fore, they managed to save the life of their passenger, though they despaired of altogether restoring his wits, which he had either lost before or after he came aboard, the which they could not satisfactorily resolve themselves. It was many weeks before David was well enough to sit up. They had shaved his head, but his hair was beginning to grow again, and his beard and moustache had become grey, the moustache with a tendency to curl like that of a Spanish hidalgo. When he was strong enough to be carried on deck, the captain ordered that he should be rigged out in a suit of his own best ; David's costume, and its bizarre crown and accoutrements, having been stowed away, with other curious baggage that had been handed up from his galley. David looked hardly less remarkable in the captain's clothes than in his kingly costume. Taller than most of the men around him, he stooped from weakness; but there was great dignity in his manner. As he gazed upon the sea a momentary expression of pleasure lighted up his features. Then, with a sigh, he watched the white track that the good ship was making under full sail. " Dear friend, what ship ? " he presently asked. " ' T/ie Fair Maid of Devon^ " said the doctor. " ' The Fair Maid of Devon / ' " David repeated, with a curious accent. " You are an Englishman ? '* ** T Have ln n cr^^^^i.: *i i i _ . ytT~i. ~ ""^ "''" " -tiisa-iuii it naa nut known since Lucy Withycombe threw herself into his arms in that other ill 320 ^be Mblte fkiwQ of /iDanoa dream of his, and he encountered Anthony Kennock, face to face, and blade to blade. " And Sir Walter Raleigh ? " he asked presently ; his eyes, for the first time, eagerly looking into the dealer's. *' Ah ! That's a sorrowful story." "Is it?" " And, between you and me, a scandalous one. I may not say how scandalous, lest I run my head into the same danger. But London loved him." " London ! " said David, to himself, though he spoke aloud. " I worshipped him." " A great and noble citizen, sir, that same Sir Walter; a scholar, a statesman, a " " Yes, yes I " said David, with a beaming note of inter- rogation in his eyes. " What of him, what of him ? " " Have patience, dear sir," said the dealer ; his first fears that his visitor was a madman now intensified with a doubt as to his harmlessness. " Yes ; of course, one need not hurry to meet ill news." " You are a true philosopher." " I am a poor creature." "Gad's life! I deny it, dear sir. But when a man has been far away from his country for many years " " He naturally desires to hear of his friends. You say Sir Walter Raleigh Don't fear me, friend. ... I am a sane man; we are all dreamers." " It is only something of a year that Sir Walter Raleigh was brought to the block at Westmister." "The block?" "He made as gallant an end as his career was brave and true." "He is dead?" " And buried. God rest his soul ! * " Amen ! " said David ; and, covering his face with his hands, he wept convulsively, the first tears he had shed Uoo ttnie not to be Stranae ja, time out of mind for he could not weep in the glow of that hateful pyre that had robbed him of wife and son in the cruel city of Guayana Vieja. " Dear sir," said the tradesman, " I grieve with you. But I fear me you are sick; let me conduct you within, and offer you a glass of canary; I have a rare bottle, twiU revive you." "I thank you, sir," said David, the tears trickling down his^cheeks ; " but I think I will go on my way." " Which is your way, may I ask ? " " "T^ t[^e ^f t-to Devonshire. I shall get a ship in the river bound for Exmouth or Topsham, I doubt not." l-irst do me the honour to accept my poor hospitality » said the dealer, at the same time turning away to open a gueTt" ''" '° ^'' '''^'*' "^"'^' "^^ ^°^"' ^^ ^^'^ " Lucy, did you say ? Lucy ? " "Yes? that is my wife's name: daughter to Master Wentwon^ the great hosier of Cheapside." "It ? : -etty name." " VVentworth ? " .ad'; of7h; hote"^"'^ ''""'' '' '' '''"^- '» --•- 'h« "This way, sir," she said. David followed her into an oak-panelled parlour, decorated with many rehcs of foreign countries, matchlocks, arquebuses armour, and a flag or two, mostly Spanish It seemed to the dealer as if his guest had alreadv forgotten that Sir Walter was dead. ^ dea-^dy!"^' ^" '"'^' '" "'^ ^'^^'"^ ""' ^'' '''^^' » '''^^ ax I 322 XTbc mbitc "Rfnij or nDanoa "She is not ?" "God be thanked, no!" said the dealer, anticipating the question. "She lives to honour his memory, and may still survive to see it redeemed from the shadow of a suspicion." " King James is a Scotchman ? " " Hush ! dear sir. Walls have ears." " And a Papist," went on David. " But he is King of England, you s.y?" "Of a surety." "And Sir Walter Raleigh ?" "Philip of Spain hated him, and James coveted the friendship of Spain ; but, forgive me, pray let that flea stick by the wall, lest we be accused of speaking treason, which is as bad before the judges as taking up arms, and " " Now, sir," said the dealer's wife, placing part of a cold round of beef upon the table, with bread and horse-radish, and two silver beakers with a bottle of wine. " I thank you, madam," as she curtsied herself from the room. ft "Tis a remarkable headgear you have exchanged with me for those aforesaid gold pieces, sir; and hath a pretty story, without doubting." " He was a king that wore it," said David, "and I knew him well in the years gone by. Perhaps it is all a dream. I could fain hope so. She was more like a vision, that was his wife. He was a prince that was her son. And they are, surely, such as dreams are made of. . . . I would e'en forget them ; or only remember them as last I saw them, before their dreams were ended: he, bravely and gallantly equipped for war; she an angel-forecast of what she is now in the courts of the sun, or in that other Heaven you and I believe in. ... I have no relic of her or him ; and, bethinking me now, I would have thae let me have again that poor emblem of a strange majesty. Uoo trrue not to be Strange 323 And yet ! . . . Nay, dear friend, I would have thee keep It. . . . For that barbaric monarch, who wore it, is dead • and I would strive to forget him, except in such dream- lik(i reverie as belongs to passages in our lives that are m the nature of our heart's secrets And you said Sir Walter Raleigh is dead, and that 'twas Spain that did destroy him ! . . . Then, why should he live, who did wait and watch for him until he had forgotten what he was hke, and the language he spoke and the dreams he dreamed, until Durham Kouse and the Mitre, and the Court and all were something belonging to a fairytale: as us now with the El Dorado he did seek; and as, ^ray God, 1 may all be so, save and except the village where he was a lad and happy, and the rivers upon which he sailed His boat and dreamed the most beautiful dream of all ' " It seemed to the merchant that his guest had forgotten him, and was holding converse with himself. And it was so. After a while, David gazed upon him with an anxious. mqumng look, and asked what place he was in, a. ! where, what city, and to whom he had the honour of speaking. " Alas, good friend," said the merchant, "I fear me you are not wen. 'Twere best you stay and rest for the night, and take counsel with a doctor; you have over-wrought your strength, and " ^ "I thank you, sir," said David; -and the captain likewise. Jis good to have patience with one who h so forlune." ^ ""'" ''^' ""^ ^""""' ""^ '° ^'^^ ^^^ g^°^ to'fi^^"' ^""^ ^ ""'" ^^ ^''"' ^'"^^'^ ^"^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ y°" ^°P^ "Bound for Topsham, or Exmouth, or both," said David as if by sudden inspiration. « I thank vou. I have sleot 100 iong, and am not yet quite wakened; but I know you sir. and your wine has refreshed me. And they are dead' ' m 3^4 Zbc mbitc mm of manoa the friends I loved ! . . . All but one, perchance. . . . Your w.fes name is Lucy. You see, I do remember. Come then, smce you are so benevolently disposed. We •shall find the road together; I have made good the trend of many more unusual roads. But I would buy me other apparel by the way." " Tis but a stone's throw to my neighbour, the tailor of Cheape ; but I will call a coach." David had not ridden in a coacn for nigh upon five-and- twenty years; and yet it seemed to him, as he gazed upon the bustle of the London streets, as if the clock had been put oack, or that he was, in very truth, still on a visit to Durham House, a fancy that was grimly dissipated when he caught sight of his face in the tailor's mirror of East- cheape. It was sunset when the kindly merchant convoyed him on board the Mary and John bound for Topsham. CHAPTER III A woman's constancy \/r ARCH had blown itself into April, and April had -LVX sprinkled the country with flowers, when the Mary and John's boat landed David at the stairs of the Mer- maid at Exmouth. There it was, the .ame old house ; a trifle more wooden in appearance, with the same old need of paint, but with its creepers holding the timbers together and putting forth new buds to hide the many cracks and crevices. Typical of the place, and confirming David in the dis- tance of time between the days when he knew Exmouth and this day when Exmouth had long since forgotten him, Hihary Sharp sat in the porch of the old inn, a human landmark on Time's highway, that marked nothing except Its own decay. He sat in the sun, his face almost as white as his hair, his two hands shaking with a gentle tremor that afflicted his entire frame, even to his lips, and without a ! spark of intelligence in his voice. " He be very old, and paralytic. Master Sharp," they said ; and mistress, she be laid in her grave long since " Do the Blatchfords still live at the Manor House?" David asked. "The Blatchfords?" said Sharp's son, who had not been born when David last stood upon the Mermaid', seeps. " ihere be no Manor House as I knows on." the young man continued. "I've heard father talk of Justice 32.1; ~ ■• If 326 xtbe mbitc mino of manoa Blatchford; but 'twas of things before I come into the world; and the Manor House was burnt, I've heard say, by the rioters." " Do you know the King's Head, at Littleham ? " David asked. " Oh yes ; and Master Sutton and the good dame ; they comes once in a whiles to see father." "Your father is Master Sharp, that sits here in the porch ? " "So they do say," the lad replied, with a chuckle; « and I do believe 'un. Poor old dad ! He ain't been hisself for many a long year ; though he bain't so old, not more'n eighty. It come on what they do call creeping paralysees ; and it do go on creeping, mighty slow, but sure ; and will to the end." "Can you put a horse into something, and take my chest to the King's Head at Littleham," asked David, " while I have a bit of food ? " "Why, surely," the young man replied. "There be father's cart, with a comfortable seat, and " "I will walk," said David. "Let me have a bottle of your best, and whatever there may be, a bite, in the larder ; sit down with me, if you will be so good; and then I'll follow my cargo. What do you say to that ? " "I am yours to command, sir; and as for the wine, I'll warrant mun never tasted better." Presently, Darid and his young host were sitting down to a meat pasty, a leg of pork, and a salad of spring vegetables and herbs, the perfume of which was as sweet as that of the box of gillyflowers outside the open window. " Let me lend mun father's old staff," said y< ang Sharp, when David set fcrth to walk to Littleham. " You are very cind," said David. And as the young man watched him, making his way up the hill from the beach, he said : " Them as lives by a TOloman's Constancy 327 the sea, or serves the mariners ashore, sees queer folk. He looks as if he'd seen sea-serpents and mermaidens, and was afeared they was still a-comin' after mun." But it was nothing coming after him that made David fearful ; it was that which might be in front of him ; for he was not only on his way to the King's Head, at Littleham, but to the old churchyard. The mild April air wooed him with pleasant messages from the sea, mingled with the scent of meadows and the music of sheep bells. He paused now and then to lean against a gate, and once or twice to gather a few primroses and violets in sheltered corners of the way, and to note how alive everything was with hope and promise, and to listen to blackbird and thrush, to linnet and redbreast, with a strange sense of familiarity. He knew every sound and every bird, and Manoa became more and more a dream. "Am I quite well?" said old Tom Sutton, answering David's commonplace question. " I do hope so, master, for a man of seventy, that my missus says doan't look an hour over fifty— God bless her ! Ah ! here you be, missus. I was a-tellin' the gentleman what a happy couple we be, though we'en been spliced these fifty year I " "Surely, surely ! " said the dame, in her white cross-over and woollen gown, her eyes as bright as when she was thirty. " And why not ? I've put a light to the logs in the gentleman's chamber ; not that it is cauld, but there ain't been a fire for many a long month, and the nights be damp, though the days be just summer ; never see so soft an April." They made their guest a tankard of hot ale of their own brewing, and gave him a pipe. It was a long walk for an old man, they said, from Exmouth to Littleham ; a remark that made David's heart sink. " And how old would you take me to be ? " he asked, lighting his pipe, and stretching his legs into the fire-light— for in the King's Head kitchen they rarely let out the fire / 3»8 Zbc iKflbite mrxQ of mm\oa from one year's end to the other, and the smell of the wood embers scented the patch of valley that separated it from the hedgerow and the garden on the other side of the f ^'^/^f^'^^^^gfojand garden being the appurtenances and belongmgs of the Withycombe farmhouse. " Well, if your honour was a woman," said Sutton " I should say forty out of compliment; but since men be above such flatteries, I should put you down at sixty." " Good Lord I And would you ? » David replied "To be honest, I would, indeed." nZ^V ^fu^"" ^'''^' '"^ '^^ P^""y °^y °W friend do call ,t, he who gave .t me ; and I rarely have had a nobler gift. Twas from Master Sidmouth Trevelion " i^^^t^LI^ ^ ^ P"'=«l ' " ^'^ David. "At a tmoman*3 Coitstancp 329 "I be "Grand Old Sid, alive! I should say so, and mun's like to live a hundred and fifty years. He be seventy-five, if he be a day, and looks no more than forty ; though badly lamed, and goes about with sticks. But, Lord, he preaches like a big male angel. He be a hater of earthly kings, be Master Trevelion; though, mind you, it don't do to say much about such affairs, even here at Littleham. One as keeps the King's Head have no business with politics." *' And where is Master Trevelion in these days ? " asked David, his mind for a minute or two adrift from the Tudor house of the Withycombes. " He lives at Topsham, just down by the quay ; it's his own house, and the land to it, and in mun's front garden there be his flagstaff, rigged like the mast of a three-decker, and two guns, one each side the path ; and open house to all sorts and conditions ; and, barring his Scripture texts and his visions of the New Jerusalem, not a jollier soul in all the west country ! " ♦ ♦ • ♦ # The next day was Sunday. David went to church. If he had desired to unmask himself, he would have shaven off his moustache and beard. They were grey and bushy, and, as Littleham had never seen him in such disguise (he was a beardless boy when he left the Exe), and had long since regarded him as dead and buried, or de- voured by alligators in the Orinoco River (if ever there was such a river, which Littleham doubted, regarding it as part of the mad romance of Raleigh's imagination), it was not likely that any one should recognise him, not even Lucy. And yet he knew her at once; and, when he knelt at the bidding, « Let us pray," the tears came into his eyes, and he did not know whether they were tears of joy or sorrow. The landlord of the King's Head had not overestimated 330 TLbc mbitc ir^dio or mmoa her appearance of young-womanhood. She was, after all l)ut a year or two over forty, and many a woman is in her prime at that age, as Lucy was, with the elastic step of thirty, and the pink and white complexion of a Devonshire beauty. Time had only emphasised her charms and given I a healthful rotundity to her figure, while it had left her face and neck without a wrinkle, except such trifling indications of a crow's-foot or two about the eyes that added to their genial expression. She sailed into church, in her best brocaded gown and ample hat and feathers, high- heeled .hoes and buckles, her brown curls about her forehead ; and with an air of the country refined by the town, that made her, by comparison to the rest of the womenfolk, quite a grand dame. She always liked a bit of finery ; and having been presented at Court, and now livmg retired on her own property, with a sufficient in- come to play the part of My Lady Bountiful, no one questioned her right to take her place with the best in the county. She observed David, as she passed him ir the church- yard, some time after service ; for he wf.s wandering among the graves, and she had paused to lay a flower upon the resting-place of her father and mother. David looked wistfully at her ; but she never for a moment imagined that he was in any way associated with her life or hopes He had found his father s grave, and was standing at its head. She turned to glance at him, as she closed the low gate of the churchyard, and disappeared down the path into the roadway. • ♦ • ♦ ♦ It was not until many days had passed that David made up his mind to call upon Lucy. He had watched her whenever she had crossed his path. The landlord told him that she had asked him what strange gentleman was B Monian'0 Constancy 331 " And what did you answer ? " " I told her I could not say ; but that she had designated you correct, for that you were of a truth a gemleman, though you had travelled all the world over, and was evident a man of Devon." "Thank you, Master Sutton, thank you," said David. Many a time David had been on the point of inquiring about himself; but he was fearful of making himself known lest it might be impossible for him to remain, breathing the same air as Lucy and worshipping in the same church. He even refrained from visiting Trevelion, at Topsham. It seemed to him as if he had dreamed a strange dream, that he would now fain forget only to dream another and a final one that should five him rest at last among friends who belonged to the iweet^it memories of his life, memories that now came bac c f.<« hiih as fresh as if he were still a lad on his father's farm. Awhile he forgot many things connected with his li' , in Manoa, and felt towards the siege of Guayana Vieja as if it had occurred hundreds of years ago and was an incident in the life of some one he had heard of, not himself, there was not an event, the most trifling, that he had forgotten concerning Exmouth or Litlleham, up to his parting with Lucy at Plymouth. His adventures in London and his brief experiences of the Court were a little shadowy, but he remembered them and Mary Lysons, his jealousy of Lord Essex, and his cherished companionship with Raleigh ; but it was Little- ham and Exmouth that now crowded his memory. He could recall every article of furniture in the Littleham parlour, where he used to play the lute and sing to it, with Lucy and the rest taking part in the chorus. O God ! why had he ever left that paradise ? Why did not Providence let a man know when he was happiest ? XT Via nrqc tollrin'Tf ^O *'V»f» porcrM-* urliAn T t^r>\T ivqc passing along the little village street — that is, if it might 33a ube mbitc mm of mmoa be called a street, that only had a few cottages the vicarage, a farmhouse, a double row of straggling trees and a beck, sparkling along the stony sidewalk-and" pausing for a moment to take the wall side of the way' the parson asked permission to introduce to her their new parishioner. "For our visitor tells me he desires to settle among us for the remainder of his days; and I give him hearty welcome, as I am sure in your goodness you will, dear friend. T."^J''f/w"'^l^ ^"''^^ remarking, as she turned towards David, You have been sojourning in the village for a long time?" ^ " A few weeks," said David, his voice trembling. « I was something of an invalid." "I feared you were not well on that first Sunday I noted you in church," said Lucy. « What name, did you say, sir ? " ^ She asked the question, turning to the parson. He looked towards David ; who, hitherto, had been simply known as "the stranger." "Prideaux," said David; " Martin Prideaux." " Martin Prideaux ! " Lucy repeated, with a blush. « It is an old Devonshire name." "You know it?" said David, meeting her eyes; his own bright and piercing, hers with a dreamy expression of inquiry. ^ They were beautiful eyes. It seemed to David as if he had never known until now how beautiful they were Had they become darker? They used to be blue. Now, they were a blue-black; and full of a new meaning, the sweet depth of a tender resignation, stih with the hopeful ex- pression of girlhood. David's eves fell before her glance and he was confused. ' "Martin Prideaux," she said, addressing the parson, H Momau'0 Constanci? 333 but still looking at David, " was the ancestral name that Master David Yarcombe was proud of, poor dear fellow, and did mention with a brave assurance to our gracious Queen Elizabeth, of blessed memory." " Is't so, indeed ? " the clergyman answered. "'Tis strange your name should be Martin Prideaux," she said, turning to David ; and at that moment the clergyman was beckoned away by an old dame standing at her cottage door, her husband being very sick, and anxious to speak with him. " We must look up our friend's pedigree, and make him one of us indeed," he said, as he excused himself and left David and Lucy by themselves. " 'Tis an unusual name, no doubt," said ^)avid, embold- ened by her remembrance to speak of himself with more particularity. " Then you knew that same David Yar- combe ? " " Yes," she answered, with a sigh. " Knew him well ? " David continued. " Man, man ! " she replied. " You awaken very sad memories. But that you are a stranger, you might have known better. And yet, surely, you cannot have Jived at the King's Head without " " Dear madam, forgive me," said David, his heart beating, between joy and sorrow. " But I myself knew David Yar- combe, as a comrade and fellow-adventurer." " Then, dear sir, forgive me," she said, her face flushed with emotion. " Do me the pleasure to give me your arm. That is my house, in the meadows beyond the road." The touch of her hand sent a thrill through him. " My woman shall make a dish of tea, and you shall tell me, if you will be so kind, about — about — Da — vid — \7-_ U_ i) I , oh€ Suid } !iut attcuiptrng tu COiitrOl the emotion that had been awakened in her breast. 334 Zbe imitc Ktiifl of /canoa Uavid was taller than Lucy ; and in his endeavour to appear at h,s best, he drew himself up to his full he'-^ht b:e?a°^ant^ '"'''''' "' ''' '"^ ""^■^'<^'"^- '' "^lad How the old time came over him ! He feared he mitht I so old so hideous, that you have forgotten the youngster "ho only desired to die for you, and who won L com mendafon of the greatest of feminine critics, for his fine figure and gallant appearance ? " But he kep a judicious sUence; though he hated himself for it, and he iished to eavenhe had Old Trevelion by, that 'he might hveth: benefit of his advice. " Y«. I knew him ; sailed in the same ship with him was OS with him in the same river, God help me!" said m'd "An"d hTth r"""'^' "-"^^ '''^ ^^°P--<^ 'he subject And his thoughts were continually at Littleham j he never forgot his love for you." Lucy burst into tears; and then David inwardly cursed himself, for a brute and a fool. "Nay my dear friend," he exclaimed, rising from his eat, and tempted to take her hand; "don't wfep. You lover IS not dead I can avouch it, for a surety " did'::'; ^ " '^^ ^^'"'^<'' ''^ '"-^ - "■'"e. and nir" n'f' ' '*°' ^'■*'" ' ^'"' y°" *°»'»?" said "t 1 '^ k"" °! '" ™"^ ""'"'^ •'"■ «"h a start. of sate. I shall be quite well in a few minutes. You have startled me." '' I am a blundering fool ! » said David. " No no. I thank you for startling me," she reolied and looked at him. "Y, r voice reminded m of f'l; carried me back five-and.twpn.„ „„„„ : J." s.r. on ,t he that God is going to answer my prayers ?» ' B Womau'd Couetauci? 335 "Yet, I fed as Perhaps I met " You still love the poor fellow ? Nay, forgive me for any question that may appear unseemly. I have his welfare at heart, selfishly at heart." "You are very strange," she answered, if I had known you. Martin Prideaux 1 you in London, when I was a girl ? " "No doubt — no doubt. But tell me, if I may be so bold ? Should David '-eturn — as I am assured he may, — will you forgive him all the sins he so often confessed to me?" "What sins?" " His jealousy of you ; his interest in one Mary Lysons, who became a nun; his cold parting with you, when, if he had been true to himself and to you, he would have shown you his broken heart ? " " Forgive him ! " she said, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "'Tis I that need forgiveness, — a frivolous creature, seeking the admiration of vain lords and popinjays, coquetting with mv own happiness, like a fool 1 " " And you have never married ? " " Married ! There was only one man in the world I could have married." David clutched the arm of his chair, to keep him steady and hold himself in his seat. " But he, poor fellow ! You must know, dear friend, that men are not as faithful to their loves as women. A sailor, they say, has a wife in every port. That was not true of David Yarcombe. But supposing it had been ? " " I know 'tis not true," she said. " Let us not deal in suppositions." Full of an intention, at the moment, of telling her that David was a widower, he instantly, however, took his cue from the woman's faith in her lover ; and there and theu forgot (with a firm resolve never to darken Lucy's life with the shadow of Manoa) that he had ever been married, cr ^^^ Ube Ticiblte Mm of /©aiioa had ever had a son. It was not so very hard to do so seeing how acute and keen were his early memorL'^h:' w^s V2 """"'^ '"""'^"'' '''^"°^ ^^^ -^-ted. It was, he felt, a wise instinct that had prompted him to keep no rehc of his kingship, no memonal o'f his t W the Littleham parlour, with Elizabeth dead. Raleiizh a "martyred ghost, and England falling from her high esLe under a traitorous king. ' "You would take the wanderer back to your heart then without question, without » ' ' me'tfr; T' y^"J°^*"^^ "^^ •' Let him come and ask me those questions himself." " I am a brute I » said David, in a whirl of anxiety. « I will go and fetch him." ' And straightway he left the house. " My God ! How changed I must be ! » he said as he sought his chamber at the King's Head. « But who' would .enow me in this disguise of hair ? " pulling at his beard. " Yes, sir," said the landlord. "Come here, Sutton." " Yes, sir." " Can you shave a man ? " " I shave nyself every second day.** " Can you shave me ? " '• No doubt, with the aid of a pair of scissors.** Come on, then ! " David replied, pulling off his coat. Sutton bustled up, with a bowl of hot water, and was soon cutting away David's moustache and b^rd and lathering his chin and cheeks, ^ The result was a striking transformation. "Why, damme, sir. von \nni- f,.,^.,*.. ..^ .. exclaimed the landlord.' ' ^"■'"'' '^" younaeri" H Monian's Constancy 337 "Do I ? By my faith, then, here's a gold piece to pay the transformer." " I thank you, sir," said the landlord ; " but I'd gladly have done it for the love of the thing." "Thank you," said David. "Now, leave me, please, while I dress myself in my new clothes." David had not yet worn the best suit which the friendly London merchant had introduced to him in Lastcheape. It was a handsome suit of satin, almost fit for a Court costume, and not unlike the one in which David had impressed Queen Elizabeth ; not, of course, so showy, noi so rich ; but it was a costume for a young man ; and there was a rapier with it, and a baldrick. The tailor had suggested this latter addition, out of respect to the newest fashion. " After all," said David, to himself, as he contemplated his leg, less shapely than of yore, and surveyed his general appearance by the aid of a few inches of mirror, " I am only forty-five ; many a man does not elect to •z^'^k a wife until he is that age, and some don't marry until they are fifty. She is little more than forty, and, as Sutton says, might be thirty. I think she is more beautiful than ever she was. More staid ; that's for the better. There is more of her ; that's none for the worse. She is more thoughtful, less flighty, has a richer voice, and is, as ever, all that is desirable. Oh, my God, to think of the years I have lost ! . . . But if she will not speak her mind to me even twenty years younger, as Sutton declares me 1 . . . Then, by heaven, I'll throw myself into the sea ! '* Thereupon David went downstairs. " Mistress ! Dame Sutton I " shouted old Sutton. " Come hither ! Didst ever see the like ! Why, in God's name» who be it ? " "Who?" said the dame, adjusting her specudes. "Why, 'tis David Yarcombe— that's who it bel" .138 Ubc mbitc mng of /iDanoa "My dear o'J soul!" exclaimed David, "I thank you. Let me kiss you." " And 'twas he, all the ti tie I " said Sutton. " Always swore I'd seen mun before. But, body o' me, who the devil was to i -o./ him in a mask, and with the clothes of an old mat to boot ! .... By the Lord, we are in for great times at Littleham ! ... Do you know, sir, that your cousin hath lately been suing for possession of your estate, as the rightful heir under your father's will? Not out of malice, noi at all ; for he's a decnt, h i)est man, and rich. . . . But we'd all given yoa up ; ^nd " "Thank you, thank you, Suuon ; tell me the rest this evening, over a pipe. ... I have an engagement that 1 am anxious to keep. . . . Good-bye, fo the present, dame, Vou have made e very happy. I was afraid she might .ot know nm ; she did not, half an hour ago." He strode out of th.- old inn, and across the road and through the gate that ied to the dear old Tudor house of the Withycoinbes, v/r;h the proud and confident .srep of a hopeful wooer, * * • ♦ ^ And Master Sidmouth Trevelion declared that, of all the ceremonies at which he had assisted during his long and n'Jventurous liic, none had given him greater satisfaction then the marriage of Lucy Withycombe to David Yarcombe, in the parish Church of Littleham, THE END