By England's Aid; or, the Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-1604)
Page 6
CHAPTER VI
THE LOSS OF THE SUSAN
There were few people in Hedingham more pleased to see the two ladson their return than John Lirriper, to whom they paid a visit onthe first day they went out.
"I am glad to see you back, young masters; though, to say the truth,you are not looking nigh so strong and well as you did when I lastparted from you."
"We shall soon be all right again, John. We have had rather a roughtime of it over there in Sluys."
"Ah, so I have heard tell, Master Geoffrey. Your father read outfrom the pulpit a letter the earl had received from Captain Francistelling about the fighting, and it mentioned that you were bothalive and well and had done good service; but it was only a shortletter sent off in haste the day after he and the others had gotout of the town. I was right glad when I heard it, I can tell you,for there had been nought talked of here but the siege; and thoughyour lady mother has not said much to me, I always held myself readyto slip round the corner or into a house when I saw her come downthe street, for I knew well enough what was in her mind. She wasjust saying to herself, 'John Lirriper, if it hadn't been for youmy two boys would not be in peril now. If aught comes to them, itwill be your doing.' And though it was not my fault, as far as Icould see, for Captain Francis took you off my hands, as it were,and I had no more to say in the matter than a child, still, thereit was, and right glad was I when I heard that the siege was overand you were both alive.
"I had a bad time of it, I can tell you, when I first got back,young sirs, for your mother rated me finely; and though your fathersaid it was not my fault in any way, she would not listen to him,but said she had given you into my charge, and that I had no rightto hand you over to any others save with your father'spermission--not if it were to the earl himself,--and for a long timeafter she would make as if she didn't see me if she met me in thestreet. When my wife was ill about that time she sent down brothsand simples to her, but she sent them by one of the maids, andnever came herself save when she knew I was away in my boat.
"However, the day after the reading of that letter she came inand said she was sorry she had treated me hardly, and that she hadknown at heart all along that it was not altogether my fault, andasked my pardon as nice as if I had been the earl. Of course I saidthere was nothing to ask pardon for, and indeed that I thought itwas only natural she should have blamed me, for that I had oftenblamed myself, though not seeing how I could have done otherwise.However, I was right glad when the matter was made up, for it isnot pleasant for a man when the parson's wife sets herself againsthim."
"It was certainly hard upon you, John," Geoffrey said; "but I am sureour mother does not in any way blame you now. You see, we broughthome letters from Captain Vere, or rather Sir Francis, for he hasbeen knighted now, and he was good enough to speak very kindly ofwhat we were able to do in the siege. Mother did not say much, butI am sure that at heart she is very grateful, for the earl himselfcame down to the Rectory and spoke warmly about us, and said thathe should always be our fast friend, because we had given his cousinsome help when he was roughly pressed by the Spaniards. I hope weshall have another sail with you in a short time, for we are notgoing back to the Netherlands at present, as things are likely tobe quiet there now. Although he did not say so, I think Sir Francisthought that we were over young for such rough work, and would bemore useful in a year's time; for, you see, in these sieges evenpages have to take their share in the fighting, and when it comesto push of pike with the Spaniards more strength and vigour are neededthan we possess at present. So we are to continue our practice atarms at the castle, and to take part in the drilling of the companiesthe earl is raising in case the Spaniards carry out their threatof invading England."
Mrs. Vickars offered no objection whatever the first time Geoffreyasked permission to go down to Bricklesey with John Lirriper.
"I have no objection, Geoffrey; and, indeed, now that you havechosen your own lives and are pages to Sir Francis Vere, it seemsto me that in matters of this kind you can judge for yourself.Now that you have taken to soldiering and have borne your part ina great siege, and have even yourselves fought with the Spaniards,I deem it that you have got beyond my wing, and must now act in allsmall matters as it pleases you; and that since you have alreadyrun great danger of your lives, and may do so again ere long, itwould be folly of me to try to keep you at my apron strings and totreat you as if you were still children."
So the two lads often accompanied John Lirriper to Bricklesey,and twice sailed up the river to London and back in Joe Chambers'smack, these jaunts furnishing a pleasant change to their work ofpractising with pike and sword with the men-at-arms at the castle,or learning the words of command and the work of officers in drillingthe newly raised corps. One day John Lirriper told them that hisnephew was this time going to sail up the Medway to Rochester,and would be glad to take them with him if they liked it; for theywere by this time prime favourites with the master of the Susan.Although their mother had told them that they were at liberty togo as they pleased, they nevertheless always made a point of askingpermission before they went away.
"If the wind is fair we shall not be long away on this trip, mother.Two days will take us up to Rochester; we shall be a day loadingthere, and shall therefore be back on Saturday if the wind serves,and may even be sooner if the weather is fine and we sail withthe night tides, as likely enough we shall, for the moon is nearlyfull, and there will be plenty of light to keep our course free ofthe sands."
The permission was readily given. Mrs. Vickars had come to see thatit was useless to worry over small matters, and therefore noddedcheerfully, and said she would give orders at once for a couple ofchickens to be killed and other provision prepared for their voyage.
"I do not doubt you are going to have a rougher voyage than usualthis time, young masters," John Lirriper said when the boat wasapproaching Bricklesey. "The sky looks wild, and I think there isgoing to be a break in the weather. However, the Susan is a stoutboat, and my nephew a careful navigator."
"I should like a rough voyage for a change, John," Geoffrey said."We have always had still water and light winds on our trips, andI should like a good blow."
"Well, I think you will have one; though may be it will only comeon thick and wet. Still I think there is wind in those clouds, andthat if it does come it will be from the southeast, in which caseyou will have a sharp buffeting. But you will make good passageenough down to the Nore once you are fairly round the Whittaker."
"Glad to see you, young masters," Joe Chambers said, as the boatcame alongside his craft. "You often grumbled at the light winds,but unless I am mistaken we shall be carrying double reefs thisjourney. What do you think, Uncle John?"
"I have been saying the same, lad; still there is no saying. Youwill know more about it in a few hours' time."
It was evening when the boys went on board the Susan, and as soonas supper was over they lay down, as she was to start at daybreakthe next morning. As soon as they were roused by the creaking ofthe blocks and the sound of trampling of feet overhead they went upon deck. Day had just broken; the sky was overspread by dark clouds.
"There is not much wind after all," Geoffrey said as he lookedround.
"No, it has fallen light during the last two hours," the skipperreplied, "but I expect we shall have plenty before long. However,we could do with a little more now."
Tide was half out when they started. Joe Chambers had said the nightbefore that he intended to drop down to the edge of the sands andthere anchor, and to make across them past the Whittaker Beaconinto the channel as soon as there was sufficient water to enablehim to do so. The wind was light, sometimes scarcely sufficientto belly out the sails and give the boat steerage way, at otherscoming in short puffs which heeled her over and made her springforward merrily.
Before long the wind fell lighter and lighter, and at last JoeChambers ordered the oars to be got out.
"We must get down to the edge of the Buxey," he said, "before thetide turns, or we
shall have it against us, and with this wind weshould never be able to stem it, but should be swept up the Crouch.At present it is helping us, and with a couple of hours' rowing wemay save it to the Buxey."
The boys helped at the sweeps, and for two hours the creaking ofthe oars and the dull flapping of the sail alone broke the silenceof the calm; and the lads were by no means sorry when the skippergave the order for the anchor to be dropped.
"I should like to have got about half a mile further," he said;"but I can see by the landmarks that we are making no way now. Thetide is beginning to suck in."
"How long will it be before we have water enough to cross the Spit?"Lionel asked as they laid in the oars.
"Well nigh four hours, Master Lionel. Then, even if it keeps astark calm like this, we shall be able to get across the sands anda mile or two up the channel before we meet the tide. There we mustanchor again till the first strength is past, and then if the windsprings up we can work along at the edge of the sands against it.There is no tide close in to the sands after the first two hours.But I still think this is going to turn into wind presently; andif it does it will be sharp and heavy, I warrant. It's either thator rain."
The sky grew darker and darker until the water looked almost blackunder a leaden canopy.
"I wish we were back into Bricklesey," Joe Chambers said. "I havebeen well nigh fifteen years going backwards and forwards here, andI do not know that ever I saw an awkwarder look about the sky. Itreminds me of what I have heard men who have sailed to the Indiessay they have seen there before a hurricane breaks. If it wasnot that we saw the clouds flying fast overhead when we started,I should have said it was a thick sea fog that had rolled in uponus. Ah, there is the first drop. I don't care how hard it comesdown so that there is not wind at the tail of it. A squall of windbefore rain is soon over; but when it follows rain you will soonhave your sails close reefed. You had best go below or you will bewet through in a minute."
The great drops were pattering down on the deck and causing splashesas of ink on the surface of the oily looking water. Another halfminute it was pouring with such a mighty roar on the deck that theboys below needed to shout to make each other heard. It lasted butfive minutes, and then stopped as suddenly as it began. The ladsat once returned to the deck.
"So it is all over, Master Chambers."
"Well the first part is over, but that is only a sort of a beginning.Look at that light under the clouds away to the south of east. Thatis where it is coming from, unless I am mistaken. Turn to and getthe mainsail down, lads," for although after dropping anchor thehead sails had been lowered, the main and mizzen were still on her.
The men set to work, and the boys helped to stow the sail andfasten it with the tiers. Suddenly there was a sharp puff of wind.It lasted a few seconds only, then Joe Chambers pointed towardsthe spot whence a hazy light seemed to come.
"Here it comes," he said. "Do you see that line of white water?That is a squall and no mistake. I am glad we are not under sail."
There was a sharp, hissing sound as the line of white waterapproached them, and then the squall struck them with such forceand fury that the lads instinctively grasped at the shrouds. Themizzen had brought the craft in a moment head to wind, and JoeChambers and the two sailors at once lowered it and stowed it away.
"Only put a couple of tiers on," the skipper shouted. "We may haveto upsail again if this goes on."
The sea got up with great rapidity, and a few minutes after thesquall had struck them the Susan was beginning to pitch heavily. Thewind increased in force, and seemed to scream rather than whistlein the rigging.
"The sea is getting up fast!" Geoffrey shouted in the skipper'sear as he took his place close to him.
"It won't be very heavy yet," Joe Chambers replied; "the sandsbreak its force. But the tide has turned now, and as it makes overthe sand there will be a tremendous sea here in no time; that isif this wind holds, and it seems to me that it is going to be anunusual gale altogether."
"How long will it be before we can cross the Spit?"
"We are not going to cross today, that's certain," the skippersaid. "There will be a sea over those sands that would knock thelife out of the strongest craft that ever floated. No, I shall waithere for another hour or two if I can, and then slip my cable andrun for the Crouch. It is a narrow channel, and I never care aboutgoing into it after dark until there is water enough for a craftof our draught over the sands. It ain't night now, but it is wellnigh as dark. There is no making out the bearings of the land, andwe have got to trust to the perches the fishermen put up at thebends of the channel. However, we have got to try it. Our anchorswould never hold here when the sea gets over the sands, and if theydid they would pull her head under water.
In half an hour a sea had got up that seemed to the boys tremendous.Dark as it was they could see in various directions tracts of whitewater where the waves broke wildly over the sands. The second anchorhad been let go some time before. The two cables were as taut asiron bars, and the boat was pulling her bow under every sea. JoeChambers dropped a lead line overboard and watched it closely.
"We are dragging our anchors," he said. "There is nothing for itbut to run."
He went to the bow, fastened two logs of wood by long lines tothe cables outside the bow, so that he could find and recover theanchors on his return, then a very small jib was hoisted, and as itfilled two blows with an axe severed the cables inboard. The logsattached to them were thrown over, and the skipper ran aft and putup the helm as the boat's head payed off before the wind. As shedid so a wave struck her and threw tons of water on board, fillingher deck nearly up to the rails. It was well Joe had shouted tothe boys to hold on, for had they not done so they would have beenswept overboard.
Another wave struck them before they were fairly round, smashing inthe bulwark and sweeping everything before it, and the boys boththought that the Susan was sinking under their feet. However sherecovered herself. The water poured our through the broken bulwark,and the boat rose again on the waves as they swept one afteranother down upon her stern. The channel was well marked now, forthe sands on either side were covered with breaking water. JoeChambers shouted to the sailors to close reef the mizzen and hoistit, so that he might have the boat better under control. The windwas not directly astern but somewhat on the quarter; and small aswas the amount of sail shown, the boat lay over till her lee railwas at times under water; the following waves yawing her about somuch that it needed the most careful steering to prevent her frombroaching to.
"It seems to me as the wind is northering!" one of the men shouted.
The skipper nodded and slackened out the sheet a bit as the windcame more astern. He kept his eyes fixed ahead of him, and the menkept gazing through the gloom.
"There is the perch," one of them shouted presently, "just on herweather bow!"
The skipper nodded and held on the same course until abreast of theperch, which was only a forked stick. The men came aft and hauledin the mizzen sheet. Chambers put up the helm. The mizzen cameacross with a jerk, and the sheet was again allowed to run out.The jib came over with a report like the shot of a cannon, and atthe same moment split into streamers.
"Hoist the foresail!" the skipper shouted, and the men sprang forwardand seized the halliards; but at this moment the wind seemed toblow with a double fury, and the moment the sail was set it toosplit into ribbons.
"Get up another jib!" Joe Chambers shouted, and one of the mensprang below. In half a minute he reappeared with another sail.
"Up with it quick, Bill. We are drifting bodily down on the sand."
Bill hurried forward. The other hand had hauled in the traveller,to which the bolt rope of the jib was still attached, and haulingon this had got the block down and in readiness for fastening onthe new jib. The sheets were hooked on, and then while one handran the sail out with the out haul to the bowsprit end, the otherhoisted with the halliards. By this time the boat was close to thebroken water. As the sail filled her head payed off t
owards it.The wind lay her right over, and before she could gather way therewas a tremendous crash. The Susan had struck on the sands. The nextwave lifted her, but as it passed on she came down with a crashthat seemed to shake her in pieces. Joe Chambers relaxed his graspof the now useless tiller.
"It is all over," he said to the boys. "Nothing can save her now.If she had been her own length farther off the sands she would havegathered way in time. As it is another ten minutes and she will bein splinters."
She was now lying over until her masthead was but a few feet abovewater. The seas were striking her with tremendous force, pouringa deluge of water over her.
"There is but one chance for you," he went on. "The wind is deadon the shore, and Foulness lies scarce three miles to leeward."
He went into the cabin and fetched out a small axe fastened in thecompanion where it was within reach of the helmsman. Two blows cutthe shrouds of the mizzen, a few vigorous strokes were given to thefoot of the mast, and, as the boat lifted and crashed down againon the sand, it broke off a few inches above the deck.
"Now, lads, I will lash you loosely to this. You can both swim,and with what aid it will give you may well reach the shore. Thereare scarce three feet of water here, and except where one or twodeeps pass across it there is no more anywhere between this andthe land. It will not be rough very far. Now, be off at once; theboat will go to pieces before many minutes. I and the two men willtake to the mainmast, but I want to see you off first."
Without hesitation the boys pushed off with the mast. As they didso a cataract of water poured over the smack upon them, knockingthem for a moment under the surface with its force.
For the next few minutes it was a wild struggle for life. Theyfound at once that they were powerless to swim in the broken water,which, as it rushed across the sand, impelled alike by the risingtide behind it and the force of the wind, hurried them along at arapid pace, breaking in short steep waves. They could only cling tothe mast and snatch a breath of air from time to time as it rolledover and over. Had they not been able to swim they would veryspeedily have been drowned; but, accustomed as they were to diving,they kept their presence of mind, holding their breath when underwater and breathing whenever they were above it with their facesto the land. It was only so that they could breathe, for the airwas thick with spray, which was swept along with such force by thewind that it would have drowned the best swimmer who tried to faceit as speedily as if he had been under water.
After what seemed to them an age the waves became somewhat lessviolent, though still breaking in a mass of foam. Geoffrey loosedhis hold of the spar and tried to get to his feet. He was knockeddown several times before he succeeded, but when he did so foundthat the water was little more than two feet deep, although thewaves rose to his shoulders. The soft mud under his feet renderedit extremely difficult to stand, and the rope which attached himto the spar, which was driving before him, added to the difficulty.He could not overtake the mast, and threw himself down again andswam to it.
"Get up, Lionel!" he shouted; "we can stand here." But Lionel wastoo exhausted to be capable of making the effort. With the greatestdifficulty Geoffrey raised him to his feet and supported him withhis back to the wind.
"Get your breath again!" he shouted. "We are over the worse now andshall soon be in calmer water. Get your feet well out in front ofyou, if you can, and dig your heels into the mud, then you willact as a buttress to me and help me to keep my feet."
It was two or three minutes before Lionel was able to speak. Evenduring this short time they had been carried some distance forward,for the ground on which they stood seemed to be moving, and theforce of the waves carried them constantly forward.
"Feel better, old fellow?" Geoffrey asked, as he felt Lionel makingan effort to resist the pressure of the water.
"Yes, I am better now," Lionel said.
"Well, we will go on as we are as long as we can; let us just tryto keep our feet and give way to the sea as it rakes us along. Thequicker we go the sooner we shall be in shallower water; but thetide is rising fast, and unless we go on it will speedily be asbad here as it was where we started."
As soon as Lionel had sufficiently recovered they again took tothe spar; but now, instead of clasping it with their arms and legs,they lay with their chest upon it, and used their efforts only tokeep it going before the wind and tide. Once they came to a pointwhere the sand was but a few inches under water. Here they stoodup for some minutes, and then again proceeded on foot until thewater deepened to their waists.
Their progress was now much more easy, for the high bank had brokenthe run of the surf. The water beyond it was much smoother, andthey were able to swim, pushing the spar before them.
"We are in deep water," Geoffrey said presently, dropping his feet."It is out of my depth. Chambers said there was a deep channelacross the sands not far from the island; so in that case the shorecannot be far away."
In another quarter of an hour the water was again waist deep.Geoffrey stood up.
"I think I see a dark line ahead, Lionel; we shall soon be there."
Another ten minutes and the water was not above their knees. Theycould see the low shore now at a distance of but a few hundred yardsahead, and untying the ropes under their arms they let the spardrift on, and waded forward until they reached the land. There wasa long mud bank yet to cross, and exhausted as they were it tookthem a long time to do this; but at last they came to a sandy bankrising sharply some ten feet above the flat. They threw themselvesdown on this and lay for half an hour without a word being spoken.
"Now, Lionel," Geoffrey said at last, raising himself to a sittingposition, "we must make an effort to get on and find a shelter.There are people living in the island. I have heard that they area wild set, making their living by the wrecks on these sands andby smuggling goods without paying dues to the queen. Still, theywill not refuse us shelter and food, and assuredly there is nothingon us to tempt them to plunder us."
He rose to his feet and helped Lionel up. Once on the top of thebank a level country stretched before them. The wind aided theirfootsteps, sweeping along with such tremendous force that at timesthey had difficulty in keeping their feet. As they went on they cameupon patches of cultivated land, with hedgerows and deep ditches.Half a mile further they perceived a house. On approaching itthey saw that it was a low structure of some size with several outbuildings. They made their way to it and knocked at the door. Theyknocked twice before it was opened, then some bolts were withdrawn.The door was opened a few inches. A man looked out, and seeing twolads opened it widely.
"Well, who are you, and what do you want?" he asked roughly.
"We have been wrecked in a storm on the sands. We were sailing fromBricklesey for Sheerness when the storm caught us."
The man looked at them closely. Their pale faces and evidentlyexhausted condition vouched for the truth of their story.
"The house is full," he said gruffly, "and I cannot take in strangers.You will find some dry hay in that out house, and I will bring yousome food there. When you have eaten and drunk you had best journeyon."
So saying he shut the door in their faces.
"This is strange treatment," Geoffrey said. "I should not havethought a man would have refused shelter to a dog such a day asthis. What do you say, Lionel, shall we go on?"
"I don't think I can go any further until I have rested, Geoffrey,"Lionel replied faintly. "Let us lie down in shelter if it is onlyfor half an hour. After that, if the man brings us some food as hesays, we can go on again."
They went into the shed the man had pointed out. It was half fullof hay.
"Let us take our things off and wring them, Lionel, and give ourselvesa roll in the hay to dry ourselves. We shall soon get warm afterthat."
They stripped, wrung the water from their clothes, rolled themselvesin the hay until they felt a glow of returning warmth, and thenput on their clothes again. Scarcely had they done so when the mancame in with a large tankard and two hunks of bread.r />
"Here," he said, "drink this and then be off. We want no strangershanging round here."
At any other time the boys would have refused hospitality socheerlessly offered, but they were too weak to resist the temptation.The tankard contained hot spiced ale, and a sensation of warmthand comfort stole over them as soon as they had drunk its contentsand eaten a few mouthfuls of bread. The man stood by them whilethey ate.
"Are you the only ones saved from the wreck?" he asked.
"I trust that we are not," Geoffrey replied. "The master of theboat tied us to a mast as soon as she struck, and he and the twomen with him were going to try to get to shore in the same way."
As soon as they had finished they stood up and handed the tankardto the man.
"I am sorry I must turn you out," he said, as if somewhat ashamedof his want of courtesy. "Any other day it would be different, buttoday I cannot take anyone in."
"I thank you for what you have given us," Geoffrey said. "Can youtell us which is the way to the ferry?"
"Follow the road and it will take you there. About a couple ofmiles. You cannot mistake the way."
Feeling greatly strengthened and refreshed the lads again started.
"This is a curious affair," Geoffrey said, "and I cannot make outwhy they should not let us in. However, it does not matter much.I feel warm all over now, in spite of my wet clothes."
"So do I," Lionel agreed. "Perhaps there were smugglers inside,or some fugitives from justice hiding there. Anyhow, I am thankfulfor that warm ale; it seems to have given me new life altogether."
They had walked a quarter of a mile, when they saw four horsemencoming on the road. They were closely wrapped up in cloaks, and asthey passed, with their heads bent down to meet the force of thegale and their broad brimmed hats pulled low down over their eyes,the boys did not get even a glimpse of their features.
"I wonder who they can be," Geoffrey said, looking after them. "Theyare very well mounted, and look like persons of some degree. Whaton earth can they be doing in such a wretched place as this? Theymust be going to that house we left, for I noticed the road stoppedthere."
"It is curious, Geoffrey, but it is no business of ours."
"I don't know that, Lionel. You know there are all sorts of rumoursabout of Papist plots, and conspirators could hardly choose a moreout of the way spot than this to hold their meetings. I should notbe at all surprised if there is some mischief on foot."
Half a mile further three men on foot met them, and these, likethe others, were closely wrapped up to the eyes.
"They have ridden here," Geoffrey said after they had passed. "Theyhave all high riding boots on; they must have left their horseson the other side of the ferry. See, there is a village a shortdistance ahead. We will go in there and dry our clothes, and havea substantial meal if we can get it. Then we will talk this businessover."
The village consisted of a dozen houses only, but among them was asmall public house. Several men were sitting by the fire with potsof ale before them.
"We have been wrecked on the coast, landlord, and have barely escapedwith our lives. We want to dry our clothes and to have what foodyou can give us."
"I have plenty of eggs," the landlord said, "and my wife will frythem for you; but we have no meat in the house. Fish and eggs arethe chief food here. You are lucky in getting ashore, for it isa terrible gale. It is years since we have had one like it. As todrying your clothes, that can be managed easy enough. You can goup into my room and take them off, and I will lend you a couple ofblankets to wrap yourselves in, and you can sit by the fire hereuntil your things are dry."
A hearty meal of fried eggs and another drink of hot ale completedthe restoration of the boys. Their clothes were speedily dried, forthe landlady had just finished baking her week's batch of bread,and half an hour in the oven completely dried the clothes. Theywere ready almost as soon as the meal was finished. Many questionswere asked them as to the wreck, and the point at which they hadbeen cast ashore.
"It was but a short distance from a house at the end of this road,"Geoffrey said. "We went there for shelter, but they would not takeus in, though they gave us some bread and hot ale."
Exclamations of indignation were heard among the men sitting round.
"Ralph Hawker has the name of being a surly man," one said, "butI should not have thought that he would have turned a shipwreckedman from his door on such a day as this. They say he is a Papist,though whether he be or not I cannot say; but he has strange ways,and there is many a stranger passes the ferry and asks for hishouse. However, that is no affair of mine, though I hold there isno good in secret ways."
"That is so," another said; "but it goes beyond all reason for aman to refuse shelter to those the sea has cast ashore on such aday as this."
As soon as they had finished their meal and again dressed themselves,the lads paid their reckoning and went out. Scarcely had they doneso when two horsemen rode up, and, drawing rein, inquired if theywere going right for the house of one Ralph Hawker.
"It lies about a mile on," Geoffrey said. "You cannot miss the way;the road ends there."
As he spoke a gust of wind of extra fury blew off one of theriders' hats. It was stopped by the wall of a house a few yardsaway. Geoffrey caught it and handed it to the horseman. With a wordof thanks he pressed it firmly on his head, and the two men rodeon.
"Did you notice that?" Geoffrey asked his brother. "He has ashaven spot on the top of his head. The man is a Papist priest indisguise. There is something afoot, Lionel. I vote that we try andget to the bottom of it."
"I am ready if you think so, Geoffrey. But it is a hazardousbusiness, you know; for we are unarmed, and there are, we know,seven or eight of them at any rate.
"We must risk that," Geoffrey said; "besides, we can run if wecannot fight. Let us have a try whatever comes of it."