CHAPTER X
THE CHASE
About the time that Margaret and Betty were being rowed aboard the _SanAntonio_, Peter Brome and his servants, who had been delayed an hour ormore by the muddy state of the roads, pulled rein at the door of thehouse in Holborn. For over a month he had been dreaming of this momentof return, as a man does who expects such a welcome as he knew awaitedhim, and who on the morrow was to be wed to a lovely and beloved bride.He had thought how Margaret would be watching at the window, how, spyinghim advancing down the street, she would speed to the door, how he wouldleap from his horse and take her to his arms in front of every one ifneed be--for why should they be ashamed who were to be wed uponthe morrow?
But there was no Margaret at the window, or at any rate he could not seeher, for it was dark. There was not even a light; indeed the whole faceof the old house seemed to frown at him through the gloom. Still, Peterplayed his part according to the plan; that is, he leapt from his horse,ran to the door and tried to enter, but could not for it was locked, sohe hammered on it with the handle of his sword, till at length some onecame and unbolted. It was the hired man with whom Margaret had left theletter, and he held a lantern in his hand.
The sight of him frightened Peter, striking a chill to his heart.
"Who are you?" he asked; then, without waiting for an answer, went on,"Where are Master Castell and Mistress Margaret?"
The man answered that the master was not yet back from his ship, andthat the Lady Margaret had gone out nearly three hours before with hercousin Betty and a sailor--all of them on horseback.
"She must have ridden to meet me, and missed us in the dark," said Peteraloud, whereon the man asked whether he spoke to Master Brome, since, ifso, he had a letter for him.
"Yes," answered Peter, and snatched it from his hand, bidding him closethe door and hold up the lantern while he read, for he could see thatthe writing was that of Margaret.
"A strange story," he muttered, as he finished it. "Well, I must away,"and he turned to the door again.
As he stretched out his hand to the key, it opened, and through it cameCastell, as sound as ever he had been.
"Welcome, Peter!" he cried in a jolly voice. "I knew you were here, forI saw the horses; but why are you not with Margaret?"
"Because Margaret has gone to be with you, who should be hurt almost todeath, or so says this letter."
"To be with me--hurt to the death! Give it me--nay, read it, I cannotsee."
So Peter read.
"I scent a plot," said Castell in a strained voice as he finished, "andI think that hound of a Spaniard is at the bottom of it, or Betty, orboth. Here, you fellow, tell us what you know, and be swift if you wouldkeep a sound skin."
"That would I, why not?" answered the man, and told all the tale of thecoming of the sailor.
"Go, bid the men bring back the horses, all of them," said Castellalmost before he had done; "and, Peter, look not so dazed, but come,drink a cup of wine. We shall need it, both of us, before this night isover. What! is there never a fellow of all my servants in the house?" Sohe shouted till his folk, who had returned with him from the ship, camerunning from the kitchen.
He bade them bring food and liquor, and while they gulped down the wine,for they could not eat, Castell told how their Mistress Margaret hadbeen tricked away, and must be followed. Then, hearing the horses beingled back from the stables, they ran to the door and mounted, and,followed by their men, a dozen or more of them, in all, galloped offinto the darkness, taking another road for Tilbury, that by whichMargaret went, not because they were sure of this, but because it wasthe shortest.
But the horses were tired, and the night was dark and rainy, so it cameabout that the clock of some church struck three of the morning beforeever they drew near to Tilbury. Now they were passing the little quaywhere Margaret and Betty had entered the boat, Castell and Peter ridingside by side ahead of the others in stern silence, for they had nothingto say, when a familiar voice hailed them--that of Thomas the groom.
"I saw your horses' heads against the sky," he explained, "and knewthem."
"Where is your mistress?" they asked both in a breath.
"Gone, gone with Betty Dene in a boat, from this quay, to be rowed tothe _Margaret_, or so I thought. Having stabled the horses as I wasbidden, I came back here to await them. But that was hours ago, and Ihave seen no soul, and heard nothing except the wind and the water, tillI heard the galloping of your horses."
"On to Tilbury, and get boats," said Castell. "We must catch the_Margaret_ ere she sails at dawn. Perhaps the women are aboard of her."
"If so, I think Spaniards took them there, for I am sure they were notEnglish in that craft," said Thomas, as he ran by the side of Castell'shorse, holding to the stirrup leather.
His master made no answer, only Peter groaned aloud, for he too was surethat they were Spaniards.
An hour later, just as the dawn broke, they with their men climbed tothe deck of the _Margaret_ while she was hauling up her anchor. A fewwords with her captain, Jacob Smith, told them the worst. No boat hadleft the ship, no Margaret had come aboard her. But some six hoursbefore they had watched the Spanish vessel, _San Antonio_, that had beenberthed above them, pass down the river. Moreover, two watermen in askiff, who brought them fresh meat, had told them that while they weredelivering three sheep and some fowls to the _San Antonio_, just beforeshe sailed, they had seen two tall women helped up her ladder, andheard one of them say in English, "Lead me to my father."
Now they knew all the awful truth, and stared at each other like dumbmen.
It was Peter who found his tongue the first, and said slowly:
"I must away to Spain to find my bride, if she still lives, and to killthat fox. Get you home, Master Castell."
"My home is where my daughter is," answered Castell fiercely. "I goa-sailing also."
"There is danger for you in that land of Spaniards, if ever we getyonder," said Peter meaningly.
"If it were the mouth of hell, still I would go," replied Castell. "Whyshould I not who seek a devil?"
"That we do both," said Peter, and stretching out his hand he took thatof Castell. It was the pledge of the father and the lover to follow herwho was all to them, till death stayed their quest.
Castell thought a little while, then gave orders that all the crewshould be called together on deck in the waist of the ship, which was acarack of about two hundred tons burden, round fashioned, and sittingdeep in the water, but very strongly built of oak, and a swift sailer.When they were gathered, and with them the officers and their ownservants, accompanied by Peter, he went and addressed them just as thesun was rising. In few and earnest words he told them of the greatoutrage that had been done, and how it was his purpose and that of PeterBrome who had been wickedly robbed of the maid who this day should havebecome his wife, to follow the thieves across the sea to Spain, in thehope that by the help of God, they might rescue Margaret and Betty. Headded that he knew well this was a service of danger, since it mightchance that there would be fighting, and he was loth to ask any man torisk life or limb against his will, especially as they came out to tradeand not to fight. Still, to those who chose to accompany them, shouldthey win through safely, he promised double wage, and a present chargedupon his estate, and would give them writings to that effect. As forthose who did not, they could leave the ship now before she sailed.
When he had finished, the sailormen, of whom there were about thirty,with the stout-hearted captain, Jacob Smith, a sturdy-built man of fiftyyears of age, at the head of them, conferred together, and at last, withone exception--that of a young new-married man, whose heart failedhim--they accepted the offer, swearing that they would see the thingthrough to the end, were it good or ill, for they were all Englishmen,and no lovers of the Spaniards. Moreover, so bitter a wrong stirredtheir blood. Indeed, although for the most part they were not sailors,six of the twelve men who had ridden with them from London prayed thatthey might come too, for the love they had
to Margaret, their master,and Peter; and they took them. The other six they sent ashore again,bearing letters to Castell's friends, agents, and reeves, as to thetransfer of his business and the care of his lands, houses, and otherproperties during his absence. Also, they took a short will duly signedby Castell and witnessed, wherein he left all his goods of whateversort that remained unsettled or undevised, to Margaret and Peter, orthe survivor of them, or their heirs, or failing these, for the purposeof founding a hospital for the poor. Then these men bade them farewelland departed, very heavy at heart, just as the anchor was hauled home,and the sails began to draw in the stiff morning breeze.
About ten o'clock they rounded the Nore bank safely, and here spoke afishing-boat, who told them that more than six hours before they hadseen the _San Antonio_ sail past them down Channel, and noted two womenstanding on her deck, holding each other's hands and gazing shorewards.Then, knowing that there was no mistake, there being nothing more thatthey could do, worn out with grief and journeying, they ate some foodand went to their cabin to sleep.
As he laid him down Peter remembered that at this very hour he shouldhave been in church taking Margaret as his bride--Margaret, who was nowin the power of the Spaniard--and swore a great and bitter oath thatd'Aguilar should pay him back for all this shame and agony. Indeed,could his enemy have seen the look on Peter's face he might well havebeen afraid, for this Peter was an ill man to cross, and had noforgiving heart; also, his wrong was deep.
For four days the wind held, and they ran down Channel before it, hopingto catch sight of the Spaniard; but the _San Antonio_ was a swiftcaravel of 250 tons with much canvas, for she carried four masts, andalthough the _Margaret_ was also a good sailer, she had but two masts,and could not come up with her. Or, for anything they knew, they mighthave missed her on the seas. On the afternoon of the fourth day, whenthey were off the Lizard, and creeping along very slowly under a lightbreeze, the look-out man reported a ship lying becalmed ahead. Peter,who had the eyes of a hawk, climbed up the mast to look at her, andpresently called down that he believed from her shape and rig she mustbe the caravel, though of this he could not be sure as he had never seenher. Then the captain, Smith, went up also, and a few minutes laterreturned saying that without doubt it was the _San Antonio._
Now there was a great and joyful stir on board the _Margaret_, every manseeing to his sword and their long or cross bows, of which there wereplenty, although they had no bombards or cannon, that as yet were rareon merchant ships. Their plan was to run alongside the _San Antonio_ andboard her, for thus they hoped to recover Margaret. As for the anger ofthe king, which might well fall on them for this deed, since he wouldthink little of the stealing of a pair of Englishwomen, of that theymust take their chance.
Within half an hour everything was ready, and Peter, pacing to and fro,looked happier than he had done since he rode away to Dedham. The lightbreeze still held, although, if it reached the _San Antonio_, it did notseem to move her, and, with the help of it, by degrees they came towithin half a mile of the caravel. Then the wind dropped altogether, andthere the two ships lay. Still the set of the tide, or some current,seemed to be drawing them towards each other, so that when the nightclosed in they were not more than four hundred paces apart, and theEnglishmen had great hopes that before morning they would close, and beable to board by the light of the moon.
But this was not to be, since about nine o'clock thick clouds rose upwhich covered the heavens, while with the clouds came strong windsblowing off the land, and, when at length the dawn broke, all they couldsee of the _San Antonio_ was her topmasts as she rose upon the seas,flying southwards swiftly. This, indeed, was the last sight they had ofher for two long weeks.
From Ushant all across the Bay the airs were very light and variable,but when at length they came off Finisterre a gale sprang up from thenorth-east which drove them forward very fast. It was on the secondnight of this gale, as the sun set, that, running out of some mist andrain, suddenly they saw the _San Antonio_ not a mile away, and rejoiced,for now they knew that she had not made for any port in the north ofSpain, as, although she was bound for Cadiz, they feared she might havedone to trick them. Then the rain came on again, and they saw herno more.
All down the coast of Portugal the weather grew more heavy day by day,and when they reached St. Vincent's Cape and bore round for Cadiz, itblew a great gale. Now it was that for the third time they viewed the_San Antonio_ labouring ahead of them, nor, except at night, did theylose sight of her any more until the end of that voyage. Indeed, on thenext day they nearly came up with her, for she tried to beat in toCadiz, but, losing one of her masts in a fierce squall, and seeing thatthe _Margaret_, which sailed better in this tempest, would soon beaboard of her, abandoned her plan, and ran for the Straits of Gibraltar.
Past Tarifa Point they went, having the coast of Africa on theirright; past the bay of Algegiras, where the _San Antonio_ did not try toharbour; past Gibraltar's grey old rock, where the signal fires wereburning, and so at nightfall, with not a mile between them, out into theMediterranean Sea.
Here the gale was furious, so that they could scarcely carry a rag ofcanvas, and before morning lost one of their topmasts. It was an anxiousnight, for they knew not if they would live through it; moreover, thehearts of Castell and of Peter were torn with fear lest the Spaniardshould founder and take Margaret with her to the bottom of the sea. Whenat length the wild, stormy dawn broke, however, they saw her, apparentlyin an evil case, labouring away upon their starboard bow, and by nooncame to within a furlong of her, so that they could see the sailorscrawling about on her high poop and stern. Yes, and they saw more thanthis, for presently two women ran from some cabin waving a white clothto them; then were hustled back, whereby they learned that Margaret andBetty still lived and knew that they followed, and thanked God.Presently, also, there was a flash, and, before ever they heard thereport, a great iron bullet fell upon their decks and, rebounding,struck a sailor, who stood by Peter, on the breast, and dashed him awayinto the sea. The _San Antonio_ had fired the bombard which she carried,but as no more shots came they judged that the cannon had broke itslashings or burst.
A while after the _San Antonio_, two of whose masts were gone, tried toput about and run for Malaga, which they could see far away beneath thesnow-capped mountains of the Sierra. But this the Spaniard could notdo, for while she hung in the wind the _Margaret_ came right atop ofher, and as her men laboured at the sails, every one of the Englishmenwho could be spared, under the command of Peter, let loose on them withtheir long shafts and crossbows, and, though the heaving deck of the_Margaret_ was no good platform, and the wind bent the arrows from theirline, they killed and wounded eight or ten of them, causing them toloose the ropes so that the _San Antonio_ swung round into the galeagain. On the high tower of the caravel, his arm round the sternmostmast, stood d'Aguilar, shouting commands to his crew. Peter fitted anarrow to his string and, waiting until the _Margaret_ was poised for amoment on the crest of a great sea, aimed and loosed, making allowancefor the wind.
True to line sped that shaft of his, yet, alas! a span too high, forwhen a moment later d'Aguilar leapt from the mast, the arrow quivered inits wood, and pinned to it was the velvet cap he wore. Peter ground histeeth in rage and disappointment; almost he could have wept, for thevessels swung apart again, and his chance was gone.
"Five times out of seven," he said bitterly, "can I send a shaftthrough a bull's ring at fifty paces to win a village badge, and now Icannot hit a man to save my love from shame. Surely God hasforsaken me!"
Through all that afternoon they held on, shooting with their bowswhenever a Spaniard showed himself, and being shot at in return, thoughlittle damage was done to either side. But this they noted--that the_San Antonio_ had sprung a leak in the gale, for she was sinking deeperin the water. The Spaniards knew it also, and, being aware that theymust either run ashore or founder, for the second time put about, and,under the rain of English arrows, came right across the bows of the_Margaret_
, heading for the little bay of Calahonda, that is the port ofMotril, for here the shore was not much more than a league away.
"Now," said Jacob Smith, the captain of the _Margaret_, who stood underthe shelter of the bulwarks with Castell and Peter, "up that bay lies aSpanish town. I know it, for I have anchored there, and if once the _SanAntonio_ reaches it, good-bye to our lady, for they will take her toGranada, not thirty miles away across the mountains, where this Marquisof Morella is a mighty man, for there is his palace. Say then, master,what shall we do? In five more minutes the Spaniard will be across ourbows again. Shall we run her down, which will be easy, and take ourchance of picking up the women, or shall we let them be taken captive toGranada and give up the chase?"
"Never," said Peter. "There is another thing that we can do--follow theminto the bay, and attack them there on shore."
"To find ourselves among hundreds of the Spaniards, and have our throatscut," answered Smith, the captain, coolly.
"If we ran them down," asked Castell, who had been thinking deeply allthis while, "should we not sink also?"
"It might be so," answered Smith; "but we are built of English oak, andvery stout forward, and I think not. But she would sink at once, beingnear to it already, and the odds are that the women are locked in thecabin or between decks out of reach of the arrows, and must gowith her."
"There is another plan," said Peter sternly, "and that is to grapplewith her and board her, and this I will do."
The captain, a stout man with a flat face that never changed, lifted hiseyebrows, which was his only way of showing surprise.
"What!" he said. "In this sea? I have fought in some wars, but neverhave I known such a thing."
"Then, friend, you shall know it now, if I can but find a dozen men tofollow me," answered Peter with a savage laugh. "What? Shall I see mymistress carried off before my eyes and strike no blow to save her?Rather will I trust in God and do it, and if I die, then die I must, asa man should. There is no other way."
Then he turned and called in a loud voice to those who stood around orloosed arrows at the Spaniard:
"Who will come with me aboard yonder ship? Those who live shall spendtheir days in ease thereafter, that I promise, and those who fall willwin great fame and Heaven's glory."
The crew looked at the waves running hill high, and the water-loggedSpaniard labouring in the trough of them as she came round slowly in awide circle, very doubtfully, as well they might, and made no answer.Then Peter spoke again.
"There is no choice," he said. "If we give that ship our stem we cansink her, but then how will the women be saved? If we leave her alone,mayhap she will founder, and then how will the women be saved? Or shemay win ashore, and they will be carried away to Granada, and how can wesnatch them out of the hand of the Moors or of the power of Spain? Butif we can take the ship, we may rescue them before they go down or reachland. Will none back me at this inch?"
"Aye, son," said old Castell, "I will."
Peter stared at him in surprise. "You--at your years!" he said.
"Yes, at my years. Why not? I have the fewer to risk."
Then, as though he were ashamed of his doubts, one brawny sailormanstepped forward and said that he was ready for a cut at the Spanishthieves in foul weather as in fair. Next all Castell's householdservants came out in a body for love of him and Peter and their lady,and after them more sailors, till nearly half of those aboard, somethingover twenty in all, declared that they were ready for the venture,wherein Peter cried, "Enough." Smith would have come also; but Castellsaid No, he must stop with the ship.
Then, while the carack's head was laid so as to cut the path of the _SanAntonio_ circling round them slowly like a wounded swan, and theboarders made ready their swords and knives, for here archery would notavail them, Castell gave some orders to the captain. He bade him, ifthey were cut down or taken, to put about and run for Seville, and theredeliver over the ship and her cargo to his partners and correspondents,praying them in his name to do their best by means of gold, for whichthe sale value of the vessel and her goods should be chargeable, orotherwise, to procure the release of Margaret and Betty, if they stilllived, and to bring d'Aguilar, the Marquis of Morella, to account forhis crime. This done, he called to one of his servants to buckle on hima light steel breastplate from the ship's stores. But Peter would wearno iron because it was too heavy, only an archer's jerkin of bull-hide,stout enough to turn a sword-cut, such as the other boarders put on alsowith steel caps, of both of which they had a plenty in the cabin.
Now the _San Antonio_, having come round, was steering for the mouth ofthe bay in such fashion that she would pass them within fifty yards.Hoisting a small sail to give his ship way, the captain, Smith, took thehelm of the _Margaret_ and steered straight at her so as to cut herpath, while the boarders, headed by Peter and Castell, gathered near thebowsprit, lay down there under shelter of the bulwarks, and waited.
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