By England's Aid; or, the Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-1604)

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XVII

  A SPANISH MERCHANT

  As soon as the sails had been set, and the vessel was under way,the Spaniard came out from the cabin.

  "My daughter is attiring herself, senor," he said to Stephen Boldero,for Geoffrey was at the time at the helm. "She is longing to seeyou, and to thank you for the inestimable services you have renderedto us both. But for you I should now be dying or dead, my daughtera slave for life in the palace of the bey. What astonishes us bothis that such noble service should have been rendered to us by twoabsolute strangers, and not strangers only, but by Englishmen--apeople with whom Spain is at war--and who assuredly can haveno reason to love us. How came you first to think of interestingyourself on our behalf?"

  "To tell you the truth, senor," Stephen Boldero said bluntly, "itwas the sight of your daughter and not of yourself that made usresolve to save you if possible, or rather, I should say, made myfriend Geoffrey do so. After ten years in the galleys one's heartgets pretty rough, and although even I felt a deep pity for yourdaughter, I own it would never have entered my mind to risk myneck in order to save her. But Geoffrey is younger and more easilytouched, and when he saw her as she landed pale and white and griefstricken, and yet looking as if her own fate touched her less thanthe parting from you, my good friend Geoffrey Vickars was well nighmad, and declared that in some way or other, and at whatever riskto ourselves, you must both be saved. In this matter I have beenbut a passive instrument in his hands; as indeed it was only rightthat I should be, seeing that he is of gentle blood and an esquireserving under Captain Vere in the army of the queen, while I ambut a rough sailor. What I have done I have done partly because hisheart was in the matter, partly because the adventure promised, ifsuccessful, to restore me to freedom, and partly also, senor, forthe sake of your brave young daughter."

  "You are modest, sir," the Spaniard said. "You are one of thosewho belittle your own good deeds. I feel indeed more grateful thanI can express to you as well as to your friend."

  The merchant's daughter now appeared at the door of the cabin. Herfather took her hand and led her up to Boldero. "This, Dolores,is one of the two Englishmen who have at the risk of their livessaved me from death and you from worse than death. Thank him, mychild, and to the end of your life never cease to remember him inyour prayers."

  "I am glad to have been of assistance, senora," Boldero said as thegirl began to speak; "but as I have just been telling your father,I have played but a small part in the business, it is my friendDon Geoffrey Vickars who has been the leader in the matter. He sawyou as you landed at the boat, and then and there swore to saveyou, and all that has been done has been under his direction. Itwas he who followed and rescued your father, and I have really hadnothing to do with the affair beyond hiding myself in the hole andhelping to tie up your Moors."

  "Ah, sir," the girl said, laying her hands earnestly upon the sailor'sshoulder, "it is useless for you to try to lessen the services youhave rendered us. Think of what I was but an hour since--a captivewith the most horrible of all fates before me, and with the beliefthat my father was dying by inches in the hands of some crueltaskmaster, and now he is beside me and I am free. This has beendone by two strangers, men of a nation which I have been taught toregard as an enemy. It seems to me that no words that I can speakcould tell you even faintly what I feel, and it is God alone whocan reward you for what you have done."

  Leaving Boldero the Spaniard and his daughter went to the stern,where Geoffrey was standing at the helm.

  "My daughter and I have come to thank you, senor, for having savedus from the worst of fates and restored us to each other. Yourfriend tells me that it is to you it is chiefly due that this hascome about, for that you were so moved to pity at the sight of mydaughter when we first landed, that you declared at once that youwould save her from her fate at whatever risk to yourself, and thatsince then he has been but following your directions."

  "Then if he says that, senor, he belies himself. I was, it is true,the first to declare that we must save your daughter at any costif it were possible to do so; but had I not said so, I doubt nothe would have announced the same resolution. Since then we haveplanned everything together; and as he is older and more experiencedthan I am, it was upon his opinion that we principally acted. Wehad long made up our minds to escape when the opportunity came.Had it not been that we were stirred into action by seeing yourdaughter in the hands of the Moors, it might have been years beforewe decided to run the risks. Therefore if you owe your freedom tous, to some extent we owe ours to you; and if we have been yourprotectors so far, we hope that when we arrive in Spain you willbe our protectors there, for to us Spain is as much an enemy'scountry as Barbary."

  "That you can assuredly rely upon," the trader replied. "All thatI have is at your disposal."

  For an hour they stood talking. Dolores said but little. She hadfelt no shyness with the stalwart sailor, but to this youth who haddone her such signal service she felt unable so frankly to expressher feelings of thankfulness.

  By morning the coast of Africa was but a faint line on the horizon,and the ship was headed west. Except when any alteration of thesails was required, the two Moors who acted as the crew were madeto retire into the forecastle, and were there fastened in, Geoffreyand Boldero sleeping by turns.

  After breakfast the little party gathered round the helm, and atthe request of Juan Mendez, Geoffrey and Stephen both related howit befell that they had become slaves to the Moors.

  "Your adventures are both singular," the trader said when they hadfinished. "Yours, Don Geoffrey, are extraordinary. It is marvellousthat you should have been picked up in that terrible fight, andshould have shared in all the perils of that awful voyage backto Spain without its being ever suspected that you were English.Once landed in the service as you say of Senor Burke, it is notso surprising that you should have gone freely about Spain. Butyour other adventures are wonderful, and you and your friend werefortunate indeed in succeeding as you did in carrying off the ladyhe loved; and deeply they must have mourned your supposed deathon the deck of the Moorish galley. And now tell me what are yourplans when you arrive in Spain?"

  "We have no fixed plans, save that we hope some day to be able toreturn home," Geoffrey said. "Stephen here could pass well enoughas a Spaniard when once ashore without being questioned, and hisidea is, if there is no possibility of getting on board an Englishor Dutch ship at Cadiz, to ship on board a Spaniard, and to takehis chance of leaving her at some port at which she may touch. Asfor myself, although I speak Spanish fluently, my accent would atonce betray me to be a foreigner. But if you will take me into yourhouse for a time until I can see a chance of escaping, my past neednot be inquired into. You could of course mention, were it asked,that I was English by birth, but had sailed in the Armada with mypatron, Mr. Burke, and it would be naturally supposed that I wasan exile from England."

  "That can certainly be managed," the trader said. "I fear that itwill be difficult to get you on board a ship either of your countrymenor of the Hollanders; these are most closely watched lest fugitivesfrom the law or from the Inquisition should escape on board them.Still, some opportunity may sooner or later occur; and the laterthe better pleased shall I be, for it will indeed be a pleasure tome to have you with me."

  In the afternoon Geoffrey said to Stephen, "I have been thinking,Stephen, about the men in the hold, and I should be glad for themto return to their homes. If they go with us to Spain they will bemade galley slaves, and this I should not like, especially in thecase of the bey's superintendent. The bey was most kind to us, andthis man himself always spoke in our favour to him, and behavedwell to us. I think, therefore, that out of gratitude to the beywe should let them go. The wind is fair, and there are, so far asI can see, no signs of any change of weather. By tomorrow nightthe coast of Spain will be in sight. I see no reason, therefore,why we should not be able to navigate her until we get near theland, when Mendez can engage the crew of some fishing boat to takeus into a port. If we
put them into the boat with plenty of waterand provisions, they will make the coast by morning; and as Ishould guess that we must at present be somewhere abreast of theport from which we started, they will not be very far from homewhen they land."

  "I have no objection whatever, Geoffrey. As you say we were nottreated badly, at any rate from the day when the bey had us up tohis house; and after ten years in the galleys, I do not wish myworst enemies such a fate. We must, of course, be careful how weget them into the boat."

  "There will be three of us with swords and pistols, and they willbe unarmed," Geoffrey said. "We will put the two men now in theforecastle into the boat first, and let the others come up one byone and take their places. We will have a talk with the superintendentfirst, and give him a message to the bey, saying that we are notungrateful for his kindness to us, but that of course we seizedthe opportunity that presented itself of making our escape, as hewould himself have done in similar circumstances; nevertheless thatas a proof of our gratitude to him, we for his sake release thewhole party on board, and give them the means of safely returning."

  An hour later the boat, pulled by four oars, left the side of theship with the crew, the superintendent and guards, and the twowomen who had come on board to attend upon Dolores upon the voyage.

  The next morning the vessel was within a few miles of the Spanishcoast. An hour later a fishing-boat was hailed, and an arrangementmade with the crew to take the vessel down to Carthagena, whichwas, they learned, some fifty miles distant. The wind was now verylight, and it was not until the following day that they enteredthe port. As it was at once perceived that the little vessel wasMoorish in rigging and appearance, a boat immediately came alongsideto inquire whence she came.

  Juan Mendez had no difficulty in satisfying the officer as to hisidentity, he being well known to several traders in the town. Hisstory of the attack upon his ship by Barbary pirates, its capture,and his own escape and that of his daughter by the aid of twoChristian captives, excited great interest as soon as it becameknown in the town; for it was rare, indeed, that a captive eversucceeded in making his escape from the hands of the Moors. Ithad already been arranged that, in telling his story, the tradershould make as little as possible of his companions' share in thebusiness, so that public attention should not be attracted towardsthem. He himself with Dolores at once disembarked, but his companionsdid not come ashore until after nightfall.

  Stephen Boldero took a Spanish name, but Geoffrey retained hisown, as the story that he was travelling as servant with Mr. Burke,a well known Irish gentleman who had accompanied the Armada, wassufficient to account for his nationality. Under the plea that hewas anxious to return to Cadiz as soon as possible, Senor Mendezarranged for horses and mules to start the next morning. He hadsent out two trunks of clothes to the ship an hour after he landed,and the two Englishmen therefore escaped all observation, as theywandered about for an hour or two after landing, and did not goto the inn where Mendez was staying until it was time to retire tobed.

  The next morning the party started. The clothes that Geoffrey waswearing were those suited to an employee in a house of business,while those of Boldero were such as would be worn by the captain ormate of a merchant vessel on shore. Both were supplied with arms,for although the party had nothing to attract the cupidity ofrobbers beyond the trunks containing the clothes purchased on thepreceding day, and the small amount of money necessary for theirtravel on the road, the country was so infested by bands of robbersthat no one travelled unarmed. The journey to Cadiz was, however,accomplished without adventure.

  The house of Senor Mendez was a large and comfortable one. Uponthe ground floor were his offices and store rooms. He himself andhis family occupied the two next floors, while in those above hisclerks and employees lived. His unexpected return caused greatsurprise, and in a few hours a number of acquaintances called tohear the story of the adventures through which he had passed, andto condole with him on the loss of his wife. At his own requestStephen Boldero had been given in charge of the principal clerk,and a room assigned to him in the upper story.

  "I shall be much more comfortable," he said, "among your people,Don Mendez. I am a rough sailor, and ten years in the galleys don'timprove any manners a man may have had. If I were among your friendsI would be out of place and uncomfortable, and should always haveto be bowing and scraping and exchanging compliments, and besidesthey would soon find out that my Spanish was doubtful. I talk asailor's slang, but I doubt if I should understand pure Spanish.Altogether, I should be very uncomfortable, and should make youuncomfortable, and I would very much rather take my place amongthe men that work for you until I can get on board a ship again."

  Geoffrey was installed in the portion of the house occupied by themerchant, and was introduced by him to his friends simply as theEnglish gentleman who had rescued him and his daughter from thehands of the Moors, it being incidentally mentioned that he hadsailed in the Armada, and that he had fallen into the hands of thecorsairs in the course of a voyage made with his friend Mr. Burketo Italy. He at once took his place as a friend and assistant ofthe merchant; and as the latter had many dealings with Dutch andEnglish merchants, Geoffrey was able to be of considerable use tohim in his written communications to the captains of the variousvessels of those nationalities in the port.

  "I think," the merchant said to him a fortnight after his arrivalin Cadiz, "that, if it would not go against your conscience, itwould be most advisable that you should accompany me sometimes tochurch. Unless you do this, sooner or later suspicion is sure tobe roused, and you know that if you were once suspected of beinga heretic, the Inquisition would lay its hands upon you in no time."

  "I have no objection whatever," Geoffrey said. "Were I questionedI should at once acknowledge that I was a Protestant; but I seeno harm in going to a house of God to say my prayers there, whileothers are saying theirs in a different manner. There is no churchof my own religion here, and I can see no harm whatever in doingas you suggest."

  "I am glad to hear that that is your opinion," Senor Mendez said,"for it is the one point concerning which I was uneasy. I haveordered a special mass at the church of St. Dominic tomorrow, inthanksgiving for our safe escape from the hands of the Moors, andit would be well that you should accompany us there."

  "I will do so most willingly," Geoffrey said. "I have returned thanksmany times, but shall be glad to do so again in a house dedicatedto God's service."

  Accordingly the next day Geoffrey accompanied Don Mendez and hisdaughter to the church of St. Dominic, and as he knelt by themwondered why men should hate each other because they differed asto the ways and methods in which they should worship God. From thattime on he occasionally accompanied Senor Mendez to the church,saying his prayers earnestly in his own fashion, and praying thathe might some day be restored to his home and friends.

  He and the merchant had frequently talked over all possible plansfor his escape, but the extreme vigilance of the Spanish authoritieswith reference to the English and Dutch trading ships seemed topreclude any possibility of his being smuggled on board. Every baleand package was closely examined on the quay before being sent off.Spanish officials were on board from the arrival to the departureof each ship, and no communication whatever was allowed betweenthe shore and these vessels, except in boats belonging to theauthorities, every paper and document passing first through theirhands for examination before being sent on board. The trade carriedon between England, Holland, and Spain at the time when these nationswere engaged in war was a singular one; but it was permitted byall three countries, because the products of each were urgentlyrequired by the others. It was kept within narrow limits, andthere were frequent angry complaints exchanged between the Englishgovernment and that of Holland, when either considered the otherto be going beyond that limit.

  Geoffrey admitted to himself that he might again make the attemptto return to England, by taking passage as before in a ship boundfor Italy, but he knew that Elizabeth was negotiating with Philipfor peace,
and thought that he might as well await the result. Hewas, indeed, very happy at Cadiz, and shrank from the thought ofleaving it.

  Stephen Boldero soon became restless, and at his urgent request JuanMendez appointed him second mate on board one of his ships sailingfor the West Indies, his intention being to make his escape if anopportunity offered; but if not, he preferred a life of activityto wandering aimlessly about the streets of Cadiz. He was greatlygrieved to part from Geoffrey, and promised that, should he everreach England, he would at once journey down to Hedingham, andreport his safety to his father and mother.

  "You will do very well here, Master Geoffrey," he said. "You arequite at home with all the Spaniards, and it will not be very longbefore you speak the language so well that, except for your name,none would take you for a foreigner. You have found work to do, andare really better off here than you would be starving and fightingin Holland. Besides," he said with a sly wink, "there are otherattractions for you. Juan Mendez treats you as a son, and thesenorita knows that she owes everything to you. You might do worsethan settle here for life. Like enough you will see me back againin six months' time, for if I see no chance of slipping off andreaching one of the islands held by the buccaneers, I shall perforcereturn in the ship I go out in."

  At parting Senor Mendez bestowed a bag containing five hundredgold pieces upon Stephen Boldero as a reward for the service hehad rendered him.

  Geoffrey missed him greatly. For eighteen months they had beenconstantly together, and it was the sailor's companionship andcheerfulness that had lightened the first days of his captivity;and had it not been for his advice and support he might now havebeen tugging at an oar in the bey's corsair galley. Ever since theyhad been at Cadiz he had daily spent an hour or two in his society;for when work was done they generally went for a walk together onthe fortifications, and talked of England and discussed the possibilityof escape. After his departure he was thrown more than before intothe society of the merchant and his daughter. The feeling thatDolores had, when he first saw her, excited within him had changedits character. She was very pretty now that she had recovered herlife and spirits, and she made no secret of the deep feeling ofgratitude she entertained towards him. One day, three months afterStephen's departure, Senor Mendez, when they were alone together,broached the subject on which his thoughts had been turned so muchof late.

  "Friend Geoffrey," he said, "I think that I am not mistaken insupposing that you have an affection for Dolores. I have markedits growth, and although I would naturally have rather bestowedher upon a countryman, yet I feel that you have a right to her ashaving saved her from the horrible fate that would have undoubtedlybefallen her, and that it is not for me, to whom you have restoredher, besides saving my own life, to offer any objection. As to herfeelings, I have no doubt whatever. Were you of my religion andrace, such a match would afford me the greatest happiness. As itis I regret it only because I feel that some day or other it willlead to a separation from me. It is natural that you should wishto return to your own country, and as this war cannot go on forever, doubtless in time some opportunity for doing so will arrive.This I foresee and must submit to, but if there is peace I shall beable occasionally to visit her in her home in England. I naturallyhope that it will be long before I shall thus lose her. She is myonly child, and I shall give as her dower the half of my business,and you will join me as an equal partner. When the war is over youcan, if you wish, establish yourself in London, and thence carryon and enlarge the English and Dutch trade of our house. I may evenmyself settle there. I have not thought this over at present, noris there any occasion to do so. I am a wealthy man and there isno need for me to continue in business, and I am not sure when thetime comes I shall not prefer to abandon my country rather thanbe separated from my daughter. At any rate for the present I offeryou her hand and a share in my business."

  Geoffrey expressed in suitable terms the gratitude and delight hefelt at the offer. It was contrary to Spanish notions that he shouldreceive from Dolores in private any assurance that the proposal inwhich she was so largely concerned was one to which she assentedwillingly, but her father at once fetched her in and formallypresented her to Geoffrey as his promised wife, and a month laterthe marriage was solemnized at the church of St. Dominic.