“I am proud to receive your lordship on board my ship,” he said. “I regret I cannot offer you a better welcome. Ten days ago, I sailed from Dunquerque, and my instructions from his majesty King Philip the Fourth of Spain, were to land certain arms and stores intended for the use of the Royalist party at some point on this coast. Unfortunately, I have been unable to execute my orders. Caught in a violent storm, I was driven ashore, as you see, at the mouth of this river. Ever since the disaster occurred, I have been unable to communicate with the loyal subjects of King Charles, and this very day my ship has been boarded and plundered by the rebels, who have only just departed, carrying off with them all my powder, and several pieces of ordnance. I would your lordship had arrived a little sooner — you might have punished their audacity as it deserved. Their leader, however, declared that he would return for the rest of the cannon.”
“That shall never be, captain,” rejoined the earl, sternly. “If the rebels return they shall be disappointed.”
“You will take the guns yourself, my lord,” cried Verderol. “I am glad to hear it.”
“No — that is impossible, captain,” said the earl. “The surest way to prevent the guns from falling into the hands of the enemy is to burn the ship. I shall be deeply grieved to destroy so fine a vessel, but there is no help for it.”
“If it must be so, it must, my lord,” replied Captain Verderol. “I have nothing to say against your determination. You are quite justified in what you propose to do.”
“I am of the same opinion, my lord,” said Lieutenant Puntales.
“Then let all leave the ship forthwith, I pray you, captain,” said the earl.
“Give the necessary orders, lieutenant,” said Verderol, stepping aside to hide his emotion.
“See that none are left behind,” remarked the earl to Standish, who immediately went below.
On being made acquainted with Lord Derby’s intention, such of the crew as remained behind promptly departed, taking with them what they pleased. A couple of chests belonging to the captain and lieutenant were removed at the same time.
Meanwhile, the ship had been set on fire in several places below deck by Lord Derby’s soldiers, and shortly afterwards smoke began to appear.
Nothing having been seen of Frank Standish for some minutes, the earl inquired anxiously what had become of him, when the young man suddenly appeared on deck, bearing in his arms a beautiful Spanish damsel of some eighteen or nineteen. She had fainted, and was closely followed by an elderly Spanish gentleman — evidently her father — and a female attendant.
A word of explanation may here be necessary. Don Fortunio Alava, a Spanish merchant trading with France, and his daughter Engracia, with her attendant Maria, were being conveyed from Dunquerque to Cadiz, and had suffered greatly from the disaster that had befallen the ship; but they had been still more alarmed by the visit of the rebels, and had taken refuge in the cabin, carefully barring the door against intrusion.
Not knowing what had taken place, and imagining the rebels were still on board, they refused to come forth from the cabin, and might have been left there to perish, had not Frank Standish burst open the door. Snatching up Engracia, who had fainted, as we have said, the young man carried her on deck, and was followed by the others.
Never had he seen such magnificent black eyes as the fair damsel fixed upon him when she regained her sensibility. She did not thank him in words, but her looks sufficiently expressed her gratitude. What she left unsaid, her father supplied, and as he spoke in French the young man understood him.
At this juncture, Maria uttered a cry, and it appeared that a valuable casket had been left behind. Not a moment must be lost if it was to be recovered, for the flames had already burst forth, and Lord Derby reiterated his command that every one should leave the ship.
Despite the injunction, Standish hurried back to the cabin, but had not returned when Engracia with her father and Maria were lowered into the boat.
Their uneasiness, however, was speedily dispelled by seeing him appear with the casket in his hand, and shortly afterwards, on landing, he had the supreme satisfaction of restoring it to its fair owner.
Pleased by his gallantry, Lord Derby desired him to conduct Don Fortunio and his daughter to Rossall Hall — an order we may be sure he very readily obeyed, and he was delighted to find that he could hold converse with Engracia, since, like her father, she spoke French fluently.
Rossall Hall, which was situated near the seashore, was not very far off, and as the party proceeded slowly thither, they often stopped to look back at the burning ship, which now being completely wrapped in flames, formed a very striking spectacle.
“Holy Virgin protect me!” exclaimed Engracia, “Little did I think, when I quitted Dunquerque, that this direful catastrophe would occur! — that our noble ship would be driven ashore and burnt — and that I should be forced to land in England!”
“Instead of repining you ought to thank the saints that you have escaped so well, child,” observed Don Fortunio. “But for this brave young gentleman, who preserved us, we should have perished in the flames.”
“What a dreadful death! — as bad as an auto-da-fe,” exclaimed Maria, in Spanish. “How much we owe the noble caballero! The señorita Engracia must not forget that he hazarded his life to bring her the jewel-case.”
“I do not forget it,” said the young damsel, fixing her dark eyes upon him.
“You overrate my services, fair lady,” replied Standish, who felt the glance vibrate through his breast.
“But what is to become of us in this country?” cried Engracia. “It seems all in a state of rebellion and strife.”
“Fear nothing!” cried Standish, with a reassuring look. “You are in good hands. The Earl of Derby will protect you.”
“I have heard that the Conde de Derby is the most powerful nobleman in this part of the country, and has several castles,” remarked Don Fortunio.
“It is quite true,” replied Standish. “Lathom House, the largest and strongest mansion in Lancashire, belongs to him. ’Tis not many days since the queen was there.”
“Alas! poor lady! how I pity her!” cried Engracia. “The rebels, I fear, will never rest till they have driven her from the kingdom, and dethroned the king her husband.”
“You take a very gloomy view of matters, fair lady,” said Standish. “We confidently expect that the rebellion will be speedily crushed.”
“Heaven grant it may be so!” cried Don Fortunio. “My sympathies are entirely with the Royalists.”
“And so are mine,” added his daughter. “I was afraid when the rebels took possession of the ship.”
“Cielo! how quickly she burns!” ejaculated Maria. “Nothing will be left of her soon.”
Again they halted to look at the ill-fated vessel, which was now rapidly being consumed, and were so fascinated by the sight that for a time they could not quit the spot.
It was, in truth, a strange picture. The whole of the crew, numbering three hundred, had now assembled to look their last on the ship, and their cries could be heard at that distance.
Behind them was the troop of horse, drawn up on the bank, and watching the progress of the conflagration with great interest.
At last, it appeared that Lord Derby had seen enough, for his troop quitted their position, and began to move towards Rossall Hall. With him were Captain Verderol and Lieutenant Puntales, who had been provided with horses.
Ere many minutes his lordship overtook Standish, and the party under his charge, and halted to speak to them.
Addressing Don Fortunio, he said: “You will scarce find a refuge for your daughter in this wild and disturbed region. I therefore propose that you should take her to my mansion, Lathom House, where the countess will give her welcome, and where you can both tarry, as long as you think proper.”
“I am greatly beholden to your lordship,” replied Don Fortunio. “But how am I to get to Lathom House? I am an entire stranger to the country, and, besides, I have no
horses.”
“Let not that concern you, señor,” said the earl. “Horses shall be supplied you, and Captain Standish, with a guard, shall accompany you to my castle.”
“Truly, your lordship is a great peer, and report has not exaggerated your princely hospitality,” said Don Fortunio, bowing deeply.
Engracia, also, expressed her thanks — but more by looks than words.
Standish could not conceal his satisfaction at an arrangement so entirely consonant to his wishes.
Lord Derby then rode on to Rossall, and the others followed.
On reaching the hall, they found that his lordship had already given the necessary orders, and a couple of horses provided with pillions were quickly brought out.
On one of these Engracia was seated behind her father, while a stalwart trooper took charge of Maria.
A guard of half a dozen men was likewise in attendance.
While taking leave of Don Fortunio and his daughter, and wishing them a safe journey, Lord Derby expressed a hope that he should find them at Lathom when he returned thither.
“Though when that will be, Heaven only knows!” he added, with a melancholy smile. “I have much to do, and my enemies will not be easily overcome. Adieu! To our next meeting!”
“Adieu! my lord,” said Don Fortunio. “Never shall we forget your kindness!”
When Standish came to receive the earl’s last commands, his lordship said to him in a low tone:
“To-morrow I shall march to Lancaster. You will find me there. Commend Don Fortunio and his daughter to the countess.”
“I will not fail, my lord,” replied the young man. “I trust to rejoin your lordship ere you reach Lancaster.”
He then sprang to the saddle, and putting himself at the head of the little party rode off.
CHAPTER III
Engracia
For a mile or so their course lay along the banks of the Wyre Water — a bare and desolate region.
They then struck off towards Poulton-in-the-Fylde, and Standish seized the opportunity of joining the fair Spaniard, whose appearance on horseback had quite enchanted him.
Seated behind her father, as we have described, she looked far better than an English damsel would have done under similar circumstances. But she was greatly aided by her costume. The mantilla covering her jetty tresses, the dark silk dress that so well displayed her symmetrical figure and permitted her small feet to be seen, and the fan she managed so well — all contributed materially to her attractions, and certainly produced an effect upon Standish.
For some little time he rode by her side, and during that interval, he unaccountably slackened his pace. As Don Fortunio rarely made a remark, or looked back at them, they might almost have been alone. What they talked about it is scarcely worth while to inquire, but both seemed interested, and the fair señorita’s dark eyes were occasionally cast down and her fan agitated.
Maria, who watched them from her post behind the trooper, came to the conclusion that they had fallen in love with each other, and she was not far wrong.
While passing through Poulton, almost all the inhabitants of which were Romanists and Royalists, many of the villagers came forth to gaze at the foreigners, and seemed wonder-struck by Engracia’s picturesque attire and extraordinary beauty. A like sensation was produced at Great Singleton, Wharles, and Treales.
At the latter place, the good folks were informed by a Romish priest that the Spaniards belonged to their own religion, and, in consequence, Don Fortunio was treated with great respect.
Hitherto, they had met with no interruption. Occasionally they overtook a party of billmen or clubmen, but all these stout fellows were going to join the Royalist force at Kirkham, and on beholding Standish and his troop, they shouted “God bless the king and the Earl of Derby!”
At Tulketh Hall, near Ashton — originally a monastic establishment — the owner of which was a Papist, a brief halt was made, and the Spaniards were very hospitably received.
But Engracia was best pleased by being taken to the domestic chapel by the priest, who resided in the house, and enabled to offer up her prayers to the Virgin.
From Tulketh Hall, half a dozen armed men accompanied the party to the ford across the Ribble — some apprehensions being entertained that a guard had been placed there by the rebel garrison at Preston. However, the report proved unfounded, and they got safe to Penwortham.
Frank Standish had now no misgivings, and would willingly have loitered on the road. But this could not be. On the contrary, he was obliged to push on, in order to make up for lost time.
At the bridge across the Douglas near Tarleton, he perceived three or four Roundhead soldiers, and prepared to attack them, but they galloped off before he came up. He subsequently learnt that they had plundered several farm-houses in the neighbourhood, and were carrying their spoil to Blackburn. This was the only danger to which they were exposed.
Thenceforward, so much expedition was used that in half an hour’s time the party came in sight of a large castellated mansion, surrounded by a wide moat, having a great gatehouse, turreted walls bristling with cannon, and a lofty square tower in the centre, above which floated a banner, bearing the motto — SANS CHANGER. Everything indicated that the place was a powerful stronghold.
No remark was made by Standish, but Don Fortunio and his daughter simultaneously exclaimed:
“That must be Lathom House.”
“You are right,” replied the young man, with a smile. “It is Lathom. What think you of it?”
“It is worthy of the Conde de Derby,” said Don Fortunio.
“It does not appear strange to me,” remarked Engracia. “I fancy I have seen it before.”
“Impossible, my child,” said Don Fortunio. “We have no castle like this in Spain.”
“Then I must have dreamed of it,” rejoined his daughter.
CHAPTER IV
How Don Fortunio and his Daughter were received by the Countess of Derby
As Standish and his troop were recognised by the guard, the gate was thrown open for their admittance, and the party rode in without delay.
The strangers caused as much sensation as they had done at different places during the journey. Officers and men turned out to gaze at the beautiful Spanish damsel.
As yet no news had been received of the destruction of the Dunquerque ship, so they could not comprehend whence she came, but they saw she was a lovely creature, and were glad she had found her way to Lathom.
Amongst the first to notice her was Gertrude Rosworm, who might have been as favourably impressed as the others, if Standish had appeared less attentive, while assisting the fair Spaniard.
From that moment an instinctive feeling of jealousy, for which she could scarcely account, was awakened in Gertrude’s bosom.
As to Engracia herself, she was lost in admiration of the mansion.
It chanced that at the time of the arrival of the strangers, the Countess of Derby was in the upper part of the court-yard with her daughters. She had been inspecting some soldiers, and was just about to return to the house, when the Lady Mary drew her attention to the singularity of Engracia’s costume, and she at once exclaimed:
“That must be a Spanish maiden.”
Next moment, Captain Standish came up, and hastily explained all that had occurred, concluding with Lord Derby’s message to her ladyship.
No sooner did she hear it than she desired that Don Fortunio and his daughter might be presented to her, and received them with great affability and kindness, saying, that as they had been so warmly commended to her by her lord, they were heartily welcome to Lathom. Don Fortunio was much struck by her stately presence and dignified manner, but Engracia felt a certain awe of the great lady.
However, she was charmed with the young ladies Stanley, and felt quite easy with them. They were equally well pleased with her, and thought her the loveliest creature they ever beheld.
After a brief conversation with the strangers, which it is scarce
ly needful to say was conducted in French, the countess led them into the house, where, she again bade them welcome, and signing to Trioche, who was standing among the other servants in the hall, directed him to conduct Don Fortunio to a chamber which she designated in the great gallery.
Her next thought was for Engracia, and being aware that Gertrude Rosworm spoke French, she begged her to take charge of the fair Spanish damsel and her attendant, and find them a suitable bed-chamber.
This was soon done, and Gertrude was about to leave them in the room she had chosen, when Engracia besought her to remain.
“Do stay with me a few minutes,” she said. “I am sure you are very amiable, and will not refuse to give me some information respecting the castle and its inmates.”
“Excuse me, señorita,” replied Gertrude. “I am forbidden to talk on such subjects. Lathom House is a garrison.”
“Yes, I quite understand,” said Engracia. “I have no curiosity to learn how many soldiers it contains — how many cannon — or the amount of its stores. I merely seek a little information on one or two points. First of all I will venture to inquire whether there is a priest in the castle? I am accustomed to have a confessor.”
“The countess has two domestic chaplains — Doctor Rutter and Doctor Brideoake, both worthy and excellent men — and service is performed twice a day in the chapel. But these are Protestant clergymen.”
“So I supposed,” sighed Engracia. And she added in Spanish to her attendant, “You must do without a priest, Maria. There is none here.”
Maria uttered an ejaculation of despair.
“There may be a priest for aught I know,” remarked Gertrude. “If so, you will soon hear of him. Two of the officers and several of the men are Papists.”
“I hope the caballero who brought us here is not a heretic?” cried Engracia.
“Captain Standish is a Protestant,” rejoined Gertrude.
“Ay de mi!” ejaculated the devout Spanish damsel, clasping her hands.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 765
