by John Buchan
CHAPTER 8. THE HIDDEN CITY
The two ports of the cabin were discs of scarlet, that pure translucentcolour which comes from the reflection of sunset in leagues of stillwater. The ship lay at anchor under the high green scarp of an island,but on the side of the ports no land was visible--only a circle in whichsea and sky melted into the quintessence of light. The air was very hotand very quiet. Inside a lamp had been lit, for in those latitudes nightdescends like a thunderclap. Its yellow glow joined with the red eveningto cast orange shadows. On the wall opposite the ports was a small standof arms, and beside it a picture of the Magdalen, one of two presentedto the ship by Lord Huntingdon; the other had been given to the wife ofthe Governor of Gomera in the Canaries when she sent fruit and sugarto the voyagers. Underneath on a couch heaped with deerskins lay theAdmiral.
The fantastic light revealed every line of the man as cruelly as springsunshine. It showed a long lean face cast in a high mould of pride. Thejaw and cheekbones were delicate and hard; the straight nose and thestrong arch of the brows had the authority of one who all his dayshad been used to command. But age had descended on this pride, ageand sickness. The peaked beard was snowy white, and the crisp hairhad thinned from the forehead. The forehead itself was high and broad,crossed with an infinity of small furrows. The cheeks were sallow, witha patch of faint colour showing as if from a fever. The heavy eyelidswere grey like a parrot's. It was the face of a man ailing both in mindand body. But in two features youth still lingered. The lips undertheir thatch of white moustache were full and red, and the eyes, ofsome colour between blue and grey, had for all their sadness a perpetualflicker of quick fire.
He shivered, for he was recovering from the fifth fever he had hadsince he left Plymouth. The ailment was influenza, and he called it acalenture. He was richly dressed, as was his custom even in outlandishplaces, and the furred robe which he drew closer round his shoulders hida doublet of fine maroon velvet. For comfort he wore a loose collar andband instead of his usual cut ruff. He stretched out his hand to thetable at his elbow where lay the Latin version of his Discovery ofGuiana, of which he had been turning the pages, and beside it a glass ofwhisky, almost the last of the thirty-two gallon cask which Lord Boylehad given him in Cork on his way out. He replenished his glass withwater from a silver carafe, and sipped it, for it checked his coldrigours. As he set it down he looked up to greet a man who had justentered.
The new-comer was not more than forty years old, like the Admiral, buthe was lame of his left leg, and held himself with a stoop. His leftarm, too hung limp and withered by his side. The skin of his face wasgnarled like the bark of a tree, and seamed with a white scar whichdrooped over the corner of one eye and so narrowed it to half the sizeof the other. He was the captain of Raleigh's flagship, the Destiny,an old seafarer, who in twenty years had lived a century ofadventure.
"I wish you good evening, Sir Walter," he said in his deep voice. "Theytell me the fever is abating."
The Admiral smiled wanly, and in his smile there was still a trace ofthe golden charm which had once won all men's hearts.
"My fever will never abate this side the grave," he said. "Jasper, oldfriend, I would have you sit with me tonight. I am like King Saul, thesport of devils. Be you my David to exorcise them. I have evil news. TomKeymis is dead."
The other nodded. Tom Keymis had been dead for ten days, since beforethey left Trinidad. He was aware of the obsession of the Admiral, whichmade the tragedy seem fresh news daily.
"Dead," said Raleigh. "I slew him by my harshness. I see him stumblingoff to his cabin, an old bent man, though younger than me. But he failedme. He betrayed his trust.... Trust, what does that matter? We are alldying. Old Tom has only gone on a little way before the rest. And manywent before him."
The voice had become shrill and hard. He was speaking to himself.
"The best--the very best. My brave young Walter, and Cosmor and Piggotand John Talbot and Ned Coffyn.... Ned was your kinsman, Jasper?"
"My cousin--the son of my mother's brother." The man spoke, likeRaleigh, in a Devon accent, with the creamy slur in the voice and thesing-song fall of West England.
"Ah, I remember. Your mother was Cecily Coffyn, from Combas on the Moorat the back of Lustleigh. A pretty girl--I mind her long ago. I would Iwere on the Moor now, where it is always fresh and blowing.... And yourfather--the big Frenchman who settled on one of Gawain Champernoun'smanors. I loved his jolly laugh. But Cecily sobered him, for the Coffynswere always a grave and pious race. Gawain is dead these many years.Where is your father?
"He died in '82 with Sir Humfrey Gilbert."
Raleigh bowed his head. "He went to God with brother Humfrey! Happyfate! Happy company! But he left a brave son behind him, and I have lostmine. Have you a boy, Jasper?"
"But the one. My wife died ten years ago come Martinmas. The child iswith his grandmother on the Moor."
"A promising child?"
"A good lad, so far as I have observed him, and that is not once atwelvemonth."
"You are a hungry old sea-dog. That was not the Coffyn fashion. Ned wasfor ever homesick out of sight of Devon. They worshipped their bleakacres and their fireside pieties. Ah, but I forget. You are de Laval onone side, and that is strong blood. There is not much in England to viewith it. You were great nobles when our Cecils were husbandmen."
He turned on a new tack. "You know that Whitney and Wollaston havedeserted me. They would have had me turn pirate, and when I refused theysailed off and left me. This morning I saw the last of their topsails.Did I right?" he asked fiercely.
"In my judgment you did right."
"But why--why?" Raleigh demanded. "I have the commission of the King ofFrance. What hindered me to use my remnant like hounds to cut off thestragglers of the Plate Fleet? That way lies much gold, and gold willbuy pardon for all offences. What hindered me, I say?"
"Yourself, Sir Walter."
Raleigh let his head fall back on the couch and smiled bitterly.
"You say truly--myself. 'Tis not a question of morals, mark ye. A betterman than I might turn pirate with a clear conscience. But for WalterRaleigh it would be black sin. He has walked too brazenly in allweathers to seek common ports in a storm.... It becomes not the fortunein which he once lived to go journeys of picory.... And there is anotherreason. I have suddenly grown desperate old. I think I can still endure,but I cannot institute. My action is by and over and my passion hascome."
"You are a sick man," said the captain with pity in his voice.
"Sick! Why, yes. But the disease goes very deep. The virtue has gone outof me, old comrade. I no longer hate or love, and once I loved andhated extremely. I am become like a frail woman for tolerance. Spain hasworsted me, but I bear her no ill will, though she has slain my son. Yetonce I held all Spaniards the devil's spawn."
"You spoke kindly of them in your History," said the other, "when youpraised their patient virtue."
"Did I? I have forgot. Nay, I remember. When I wrote that sentence Iwas thinking of Berreo. I loved him, though I took his city. He wasa valiant and liberal gentleman, and of a great heart. I mind how Icombated his melancholy, for he was most melancholic. But now I havegrown like him. Perhaps Sir Edward Coke was right and I have a Spanishheat. I think a man cannot strive whole-heartedly with an enemy unlesshe have much in common with him, and as the strife goes on he getsliker.... Ah, Jasper, once I had such ambitions that they made a fireall around me. Once I was like Kit Marlowe's Tamburlaine:
'Threatening the world with high astounding terms, And scourging kingdoms with his conquering sword.'
But now the flame has died and the ashes are cold. And I would notrevive them if I could. There is nothing under heaven that I desire."
The seaman's face was grave and kindly.
"I think you have flown too high, Sir Walter. You have aimed at the moonand forgotten the merits of our earthly hills."
"True, true!" Raleigh's mien was for a moment more lively. "That is ashrewd comment. After
three-score years I know my own heart. I have beencursed with a devil of pride, Jasper.... Man, I have never had a friend.Followers and allies and companions, if you please, but no friend.Others--simple folk--would be set singing by a May morning, or a warmtavern fire, or a woman's face. I have known fellows to whom the earthwas so full of little pleasures that after the worst clouts they roselike larks from a furrow. A wise philosophy--but I had none of it. I sawalways the little pageant of man's life like a child's peep-show besidethe dark wastes of eternity. Ah, I know well I struggled like the restfor gauds and honours, but they were only tools for my ambition. Forthemselves I never valued them. I aimed at a master-fabric, and since Ihave failed I have now no terrestrial cover."
The night had fallen black, but the cabin windows were marvellouslypatined by stars. Raleigh's voice had sunk to the hoarse whisper of aman still fevered. He let his head recline again on the skins and closedhis eyelids. Instantly it became the face of an old and very weary man.
The sailor Jasper Lauval--for so he now spelled his name on the rareoccasions when he wrote it--thought he was about to sleep and was risingto withdraw, when Raleigh's eyes opened.
"Stay with me," he commanded. "Your silence cheers me. If you leave me Ihave thoughts that might set me following Tom Keymis. Kit Marlowe again!I cannot get rid of his accursed jingles. How do they go?
"'Hell hath no limite, nor is circumscribed In one self-place, for where we are is hell And where hell is there must we ever be.'"
Lauval stretched out a cool hand and laid it on the Admiral's hotforehead. He had a curiously steadfast gaze for all his drooping lefteye. Raleigh caught sight of the withered arm.
"Tell me of your life, Jasper. How came you by such a mauling? Let thetale of it be like David's harping and scatter my demons."
The seaman sat himself in a chair. "That was my purpose, Sir Walter. Forthe tale is in some manner a commentary on your late words."
"Nay, I want no moral. Let me do the moralising. The tale's the thing.See, fill a glass of this Irish cordial. Twill keep off the chill fromthe night air. When and where did you get so woefully battered?"
"'Twas six years back when I was with Bovill."
Raleigh whistled. "You were with Robert Bovill' What in Heaven's namedid one of Coffyn blood with Robert? If ever man had a devil, 'twas he.I mind his sullen black face and his beard in two prongs. I have heardhe is dead--on a Panama gibbet?"
"He is dead; but not as he lived. I was present when he died. He wentto God a good Christian, praying and praising. Next day I was to followhim, but I broke prison in the night with the help of an Indian, andwent down the coast in a stolen patache to a place where thick forestslined the sea. There I lay hid till my wounds healed, and by and by Iwas picked up by a Bristol ship that had put in to water."
"But your wounds--how got you them?"
"At the hands of the priests. They would have made a martyr of me, andused their engines to bend my mind. Being obstinate by nature I mockedthem till they wearied of the play. But they left their marks on thisarm and leg. The scar I had got some months before in a clean battle."
"Tell me all. What did Robert Bovill seek? And where?"
"We sought the Mountain of God," said the seaman reverently.
"I never heard o't. My own Manoa, maybe, where gold is quarried likestone."
"Nay, not Manoa. The road to it is from the shore of the Mexican gulf.There was much gold."
"You found it?"
"I found it and handled it. Enough, could we have brought it off, tofreight a dozen ships. Likewise jewels beyond the imagining of kings."
Raleigh had raised himself on his elbow, his face sharp and eager.
"I cannot doubt you, for you could not lie were it to win salvation. But,heavens! man, what a tale! Why did I not know of this before I broke myfortune on Tom Keymis' mine?"
"I alone know of it, the others being dead."
"Who first told you of it?"
"Captain Bovill had the rumour from a dying Frenchman who was landed inhis last hours at Falmouth. The man mentioned no names, but the tale setthe captain inquiring and he picked up the clue in Bristol. But 'twas innorth Ireland that he had the whole truth and a chart of the road."
"These charts!" sighed Raleigh. "I think the fairies have the making ofthem, for they bewitch sober men. A scrap of discoloured paper and a ragof canvas; some quaint lines drawn often in a man's blood, and a crossin a corner marking 'much gold.' We mortals are eternally babes, and ourheads are turned by toys."
"This chart was no toy, and he who owned it bought it with his life.Nay, Sir Walter, I am of your mind. Most charts are playthings from thedevil. But this was in manner of speaking sent from God. Only we did notread it right. We were blind men that thought only of treasure."
"It is the common story," said Raleigh. "Go on, Jasper."
"We landed in the Gulf, at the point marked. It was at the mouth of awide river so split up by sand bars that no ship could enter. But byportage and hard rowing we got our boats beyond the shoals and founddeep water. We had learned beforehand that there were no Spanish postswithin fifty miles, for the land was barren and empty even of Indians.So for ten days we rowed and poled through a flat plain, sweatingmightily, till we came in sight of mountains. At that we looked for morecomfort, for the road on our chart now led away from the river up a sidevalley. There we hoped for fruits, since it was their season, and fordeer; and 'twas time, for our blood was thick with rotten victuals."
The man shivered, as if the recollection had still terrors for him.
"If ever the Almighty permitted hell on earth 'twas that valley. Therewas no stream in it and no verdure. Oathsome fleshy shrubs, the colourof mouldy copper, dotted the slopes, and a wilderness of rocks throughwhich we could scarce find a road. There was no living thing in it butcarrion birds. And serpents. They dwelt in every cranny of stone, andthe noise of them was like bees humming. We lost two stout fellowsfrom their poison. The sky was brass above us and our tongues weredry sticks, and by the foul vapours of the place our scanty food wascorrupted. Never have men been nearer death. I think we would haveretreated but for our captain; who had a honest heart. He would pointout to us the track in the chart running through that accursed valley,and at the end the place lettered 'Mountain of God.' I mind how his handshook as he pointed, for he was as sick as any. He was very gentle too,though for usual a choleric man."
"Choleric, verily," said Raleigh. "It must have been no commonsufferings that tamed Robert Bovill. How long were you in the valley?"
"The better part of three days. 'Twas like sword-cut in a great mountainplain, and on the third day we came to a wall of rock which was the headof it. This we scaled, how I do not know, by cracks and fissures, thestronger dragging up the weaker by means of the tow-rope which by themercy of God we carried with us. There we lost Francis Derrick, who fella great way and crushed his skull on a boulder. You knew the man?"
"He sailed with me in '95. So that was the end of Francis?"
"We were now eleven, and two of them dying. Above the rocks on the plainwe looked for ease, but found none. 'Twas like the bottom of a dry sea,all sand and great clefts, and in every hollow monstrous crabs thatscattered the sand like spindrift as they fled from us. Some of thebeasts we slew, and the blood of them was green as ooze, and theirstench like a charnel house. Likewise there were everywhere fat vulturesthat dropped so close they fanned us with their wings. And in some partsthere were cracks in the ground through which rose the fumes of sulphurthat set a man's head reeling."
Raleigh shivered. "Madre de Dios, you portray the very floor of hell."
"Beyond doubt the floor of hell. There was but one thing that could getus across that devil's land, for our bones were molten with fear. Atthe end rose further hills, and we could see with our eyes they weregreen.... Captain Bovill was like one transfigured. 'See,' he cried,'the Mountain of God! Paradise is before you, and the way to Paradise,as is well known, lies through the devil's country. A litt
le longer,brave hearts, and we shall be in port.' And so fierce was the spiritof that man that it lifted our weary shanks and fevered bodies throughanother two days of torment. I have no clear memory of those hours.Assuredly we were all mad and spoke with strange voices. My eyes wereso gummed together that I had often to tear the lids apart to see. Buthourly that green hill came nearer, and towards dusk of the second dayit hung above us. Also we found sweet water, and a multitude of creepingvines bearing a wholesome berry. Then as we lay down to sleep, thepriest came to us."
Raleigh exclaimed. "What did a priest in those outlands? A Spaniard?"
"Ay. But not such as you and I have ever known elsewhere. Papegot or no,he was a priest of the Most High. He was white and dry as a bone,and his eyes burned glassily. Captain Bovill, who liked not the darkbrothers, would have made him prisoner, for he thought him a forerunnerof a Spanish force, but he held up a ghostly hand and all of us werestruck with a palsy of silence. For the man was on the very edge ofdeath.
"'Moriturus te saluto,' he says, and then he fell to babbling inSpanish, which we understood the better. Food, such as we had, he wouldnot touch, nor the sweet well-water. 'I will drink no cup,' he said,'till I drink the new wine with Christ in His Father's Kingdom. For Ihave seen what mortal eyes have not seen, and I have spoken with God'sministers, and am anointed into a new priesthood.'
"I mind how he sat on the grass, his voice drifting faint and small likea babe's crying. He told us nothing of what he was or whence he came,for his soul was possessed of a revelation. 'These be the hills of God,'he cried. 'In a little you will come to a city of the old kings wheregold is as plentiful as sand of the sea. There they sit frozen in metalwaiting the judgment. Yet they are already judged, and, I take it,justified, for the dead men sit as warders of a greater treasurehouse.
"I think that we eleven--and two of us near death--were already half outof the body, for weariness and longing shift the mind from its moorings.I can hear yet Captain Bovill asking very gently of this greatertreasure-house, and I can hear the priest, like one in a trance,speaking high and strange. 'It is the Mountain of God, he said, 'whichlies a little way further. There may be seen the heavenly angelsascending and descending.'"
Raleigh shook his head. "Madness, Jasper--the madness begot of toomuch toil... I know it... And yet I do not know. 'Tis not for me toset limits to the marvels that are hid in that western land. What next,man?"
"In the small hours of the morning the priest died. Likewise our twosick. We dug graves for them, and the Captain bade me say prayers overthem. The nine of us left were shaking with a great awe. We felt liftedup in bodily strength, as if for a holy labour. Captain Bovill's stoutcountenance wore an air of humility. 'We be dedicate,' he said, 'to somehigh fortune. Let us go humbly and praise God.' The first steps we tookthat morning we walked like men going into church. Up a green valley wejourneyed, where every fruit grew and choirs of birds sang--up a crystalriver to a cup in the hills. And I think there was no one of us buthad his mind more on the angels whom the priest had told of than on thegolden kings."
Raleigh had raised himself from the couch, and sat with both elbowson the table, staring hard at the speaker. "You found them? The goldkings?"
"We found them. Before noon we came into a city of tombs. Grass grewin the streets and courts, and the bronze doors hung broken on theirhinges. But no wild things had laired there. The place was clean andswept and silent. In each dwelling the roof was of beaten gold, and thesquare pillars were covered with gold plates, and where the dead satwas a wilderness of jewels.... I tell you, all the riches that Spain hasdrawn from all her Indies since the first conquistador set foot in themwould not vie with the preciousness of a single one among those deadkings' houses."
"And the kings?" Raleigh interjected.
"They sat stiff in gold on their thrones, their bodies fashioned inthe likeness of men. But they had no faces only golden plates set withgems."
"What fortune! What fortune! And what did you then?"
"We went mad." The seaman's voice was slow and melancholy. "We, whoan hour before had been filled with high contemplations, went mad likecommon bravos at the sight of plunder. No man thought of the greatertreasure which these gold things warded. We laughed and cried likechildren, and tore at the plated dead.... I mind how I wrenched off onejewelled face with the haft of my dagger, and a thin trickle of bonesfell inside.... And yet, as we ravened and plundered we would fall intofits of shivering, for the thing was not of this world. Often a manwould stop and fall to weeping. But the lust of gold consumed us, andpresently we only sorrowed because we had no sumpter mules to aidits transit, and had a terror of the infernal plain and valley we hadtravelled...."
"Captain Bovill made camp in a mead outside the city, and one of us shota deer, so that we supped full. He unfolded his purpose, which was thatwe should pack about our persons such jewels as were the smallest andmost precious, and some gold likewise as an earnest, and by strikingnorthward through the mountains seek to reach at a higher point in itscourse the river by which we had entered from the sea. I mistrusted theplan, for the chart had shown but the one way, but the terror of theroad we had come was strong on me and I made no protest. So we packedour treasure, so that each man staggered under it, and before noon leftthe place of the kings."
"And then? Was the road desperate?" Raleigh's pale eyes had the ardourof a boy's.
"Desperate beyond all telling. An escalade of sheer mountains and abattling through vales choked with unbelievable thorns. Yet there waswater and food, and the hardships were not beyond mortal endurance.'Twas not a haunted hell like the way up. Wherefore I knew it wouldlead us to disaster, for 'twas not ordained as the path in the chart hadbeen."
Raleigh laughed. "Faith, you show your mother's race. All Coffyns havein their souls the sour milk of Jean Calvin."
"Judge if I speak not the truth. Bit by bit we had to cast our burdenstill only the jewels remained. And on the seventh day, when we were insight of the river, we met a Spanish party, a convoy from their northernmines. We marched loosely and blindly, and they came on us unawares. Wehad all but reached the river's brink, so had the stream for a defenceon one side, but before we knew they had taken us on flank and rear."
"Many?"
"A matter of three score, fresh and well armed, against nine weary menmortally short of powder. That marked the end of our madness and webecame again sober Christians. Most notable was Captain Bovill. 'We haveseen what we have seen,' he told us, as we cast up our defences underSpanish bullets, 'and none shall wrest the secret from us. If God willsthat we perish, 'twill perish too. The odds are something heavier than Ilike, and if the worst befall I trust every man to fling into the riverwhat jewels he carries sooner than let them become spoil of war. For ifthey see such preciousness they will be fired to inquiry and may haplystumble on our city. Such of us as live will some day return there....'I have said we had little powder, but for half a day we withstood theassault, and time and again when the enemy leapt inside our lines webeat him back. At the end, when hope was gone, you would hear littlesplashes in the waters as this man or that put his treasures intoeternal hiding. A Spanish sword was like to have cleft my skull, butbefore I lost my senses I noted Captain Bovill tearing the chart inshreds and using them to hold down the last charges for his matchlock.He was crying, too, in English that some day we would return the road wehad come."
"And you returned?"
The seaman shook his head. "Not with earthly feet. Two of us they slewoutright, and two more died on the way coastwards. For long I wasbetween death and life, and knew little till I woke in the Almirante'scell at Panama.... The rest you have heard. Captain Bovill died praisingGod, and with him three stout lads out of Somerset. I escaped and tellyou the tale."
Raleigh had sunk his brow on his hands as if in meditation. With a suddenmotion he rose to his feet and stared through the port, which was nowtremulous with the foreglow of the tropic dawn. He put his head out andsniffed the sweet cold air. Then he turned t
o his companion.
"You know the road back to the city?"
The other nodded. "I alone of men."
"What hinders, Jasper?" Raleigh's face was sharp and eager, and his eyeshad the hunger of an old hound on a trail. "They are all deserting meand look but to save their throats. Most are scum and have no stomachfor great enterprises. I can send Herbert home with three shiploads offaint hearts, while you and I take the Destiny and steer for fortune.Ned King will come--ay, and Pommerol. What hinders, old friend?"
The seaman shook his head. "Not for me, Sir Walter."
"Why, man, will you let that great marvel lie hid till the hills crumbleand bury it?"
"I will return--but not yet. When I have seen my son a man, I go back,but I go alone."
"To the city of the gold kings?"
"Nay, to the Mount of the Angels, of which the priest told."
There was silence for a minute. The light dawn wind sent a surge oflittle waves against the ship's side, so that it seemed as if thenow flaming sky was making its song of morning. Raleigh blew out theflickering lamp, and the cabin was filled with a clear green dusk likepalest emerald. The air from the sea flapped the pages of the book uponthe table. He flung off his furred gown, and stretched his long arms tothe ceiling.
"I think the fever has left me.... You said your tale was a commentaryon my confessions. Wherefore, O Ulysses?"
"We had the chance of immortal joys, but we forsook them for lesserthings. For that we were thoroughly punished and failed even in ourbaseness. You, too, Sir Walter, have glanced aside after gauds."
"For certain I have," and Raleigh laughed.
"Yet not for long. You have cherished most resolutely an elect purposeand in that you cannot fail."
"I know not. I know not. I have had great dreams and I have striven towalk in the light of them. But most men call them will o' the wisps,Jasper. What have they brought me? I am an old sick man, penniless anddisgraced. His slobbering Majesty will give me a harsh welcome. For methe Mount of the Angels is like to be a scaflold."
"Even so. A man does not return from those heights. When I find mycelestial hill I will lay my bones there. But what matters the fate ofthese twisted limbs or even of your comely head? All's one in the end,Sir Walter. We shall not die. You have lit a fire among Englishmen whichwill kindle a hundred thousand hearths in a cleaner world."
Raleigh smiled, sadly yet with a kind of wistful pride.
"God send it! And you?"
"I have a son of my body. That which I have sowed he may reap. He or hisson, or his son's son."
The morning had grown bright in the little room. Of the two the Admiralnow looked the younger. The fresh light showed the other like a wrinkledpiece of driftwood. He rose stiffly and moved towards the door.
"You have proved my David in good truth," said Raleigh. "This nighthas gone far to heal me in soul and body. Faith, I have a mind tobreakfast.... What a miracle is our ancient England! French sire or no,Jasper, you have that slow English patience that is like the patience ofGod."
