Beauvallet

by Georgette Heyer

  He bowed himself out, assuring her that supper should be provided against her lord's coming. A glimpse of a double ducat negligently fingered by Joshua decided him to keep his suspicions in abeyance. Double ducats were not so plentiful in this village that a man could afford to run the risk of losing one.

  Joshua nodded briskly, and made a significant gesture of a down-thrust thumb. ‘We shall do very well,’ he said. ‘Now, señorita, with your good leave I shall go get the pack from off my nag's back. I must hope that Sir Nicholas brings on his own jennet, for the most of his raiment is upon it, and I can very plainly hear him calling in the morn for a clean shirt and a clean ruff too.’

  He took Beauvallet's coming so much for granted that Dominica began to feel that he would come indeed. She laughed, and looked down at her tumbled riding dress. ‘A clean ruff for Sir Nicholas! Pray you, what will you do for me who have no clothes at all but what you see me in?’

  Joshua shook his head. ‘A very pungent question, señora, I allow. This should have been looked to. But thus it is ever when my master is in this humour! I doubt he will have lost his pack and that scabbard beside. But there is never any ho with him. Reck Not! Ah, do I not know it? In we dash, and if we come off with our skins you may say it is a miracle.’

  He went down to collect his pack, to see his horse stabled and fed, and to order a rear-banquet for the lady. She was served in her chamber, and the covers left on the table against Beauvallet's coming. The landlord had by this time very little doubt that he entertained noble guests. What their mysterious errand was he could not guess, though he was inclined, saving only the incomprehensible absence of the master, to suspect an elopement. But Joshua's demeanour alone convinced him of the quality of the lady he served. None but a great noble's man, thought the landlord, would show such a high hand as Joshua's. There must be a cold capon prepared against his master's coming. What, had he no better wine than this poor stuff ? Let him make haste to his cellar and fetch up a bottle of the best he had. Where were the suckets? Was my lady to sit down at table to naught but a scraggy fowl and a neat's tongue? Out upon him! The landlord should learn that a lady of his mistress’ standing was not to be so used.

  He waited upon Dominica himself, and was inclined to be severe with her when she showed so little appetite. She looked up at him with large, frightened eyes. ‘He does not come,’ she said.

  ‘Patience, patience, señorita, he is not a bird!’ said Joshua testily. ‘If he got away he was to lead the Guards off on a wrong scent towards the Frontier. It would never do to have them on our heels, mistress, for you cannot ride as we might have to in such a strait.’

  ‘I can ride very well if I am allowed,’ she said meekly.

  Time wore on. A few last loiterers in the tap-room went off homewards; candles were snuffed below stairs, and the inn grew quiet. Joshua had bespoken a chamber for his master, and a fire to be lit in Dominica's room, judging with some shrewdness that its friendly crackle and glow would do more to comfort her than any words of his.

  She sat by it trying to keep her courage up, and from time to time looked anxiously at Joshua. She would not have him leave her; she would not hear of going to bed for all his pleading. He might bully and override her in most things, she said, but he could not make her rest until she knew Sir Nicholas to be safe.

  ‘I shall take leave to say, señorita, that there is a long day ahead of you, and you would do well to get what sleep you may.’

  ‘I will not!’ she said, her old spirit rearing up its head. And there the matter rested.

  It was close on midnight when they heard the sound of an approaching horseman. Joshua lifted a finger and threw out his chest. ‘Ah, señora! ah! What said I? Ho, trust Beauvallet!’ He went to the window and pushed it open.

  Dominica was on her feet, clasping her hands. ‘It may not be. It may be a soldier in search of me. I cannot think…’

  The horse was reined in under the window. ‘Holà, there!’ rang out Beauvallet's voice. He looked up at the front of the inn and saw Joshua craning from the window. ‘God's Death, Joshua, what makes you there? Come down and let me in!’

  Dominica sank back into her chair, almost stunned with relief. Joshua was making for the door. ‘Ay, ay, thus it goes,’ he said. ‘Briskly, recklessly, with never a thought to who may be listening. Ah, madcap!’ He went out, and Dominica heard him clatter down the stairs and draw back the bolts of the door below, shouting to the awakened landlord as he did so that all was well. Then a light step sounded on the stairs, the door was opened, and the next instant Dominica was folded in Beauvallet's arms.

  Twenty-five

  They were up at cock-crow next morning, and away upon their long ride north just as soon as they had broken their fast, and procured fresh horses.

  Dominica felt herself to be moving in a dream; events had marched so swiftly that she was dazed by them. She awoke to hear Joshua scratching on her door, and for a moment imagined the previous day's wild work to be a figment of her fancy. But Joshua's voice, unmistakably his brisk voice, was bidding her rise up, and she knew herself to be living in no dream.

  Breakfast in the small parlour leading off the tap-room down stairs awaited her. She found Sir Nicholas there, neat as ever, and because she was suddenly shy and tongue-tied she could only give him her little hand to kiss, and say in a voice that tried to hide her shyness: ‘Ah, Señor Nicholas, I see you have that clean ruff Joshua spoke of, so I suppose you did not leave your pack behind.’

  He flung up a hand. ‘A’ God's Name, let me hear no more of that pack!’ he said in comic dismay. ‘I have heard of little else from that tickle-brain behind you since my coming last night.’

  She looked round at Joshua's disapproving face. Joshua pulled out a stool for her from under the table, but fixed a wintry look upon Sir Nicholas. ‘Ay, master, no doubt it is very well to talk in such careless wise, but I shall take leave to say that to throw away a new doublet of murry taffeta and a pair of stocks broidered with gold quirks about the ankles, not to make mention of a set of silver aiglets and a pair of trunk hose scarce worn, passeth the bounds of prodigality.’

  ‘Peace, froth!’ said Sir Nicholas, and sat him down opposite to his lady at table. His eyes smiled at her across the covers. ‘It is in my mind, ladybird, that we have not sat at table together since you were aboard the Venture.’ The twinkle deepened. ‘Do you remember that you were loth to take wine from my hands?’ He picked up the bottle at his elbow and regarded it with uplifted brows. ‘You might well be loth to take this from me,’ he remarked. ‘What is it, Joshua?’

  ‘Scarce potable, I allow,’ said Joshua gloomily. ‘A very vile drink, sir, but what would you?’

  Dominica's tongue became loosened. She must tell Sir Nicholas of the curious fancy that had come to her when Don Diego offered her wine of Alicante, and when that was done she found she had left her shyness behind her.

  The horses were saddled and ready. As Dominica set her foot in Beauvallet's hand she looked saucily at Joshua, and said: ‘Now, Joshua, you shall see whether I can ride hard or no.’

  She showed her mettle that day; she had done with fears and doubts. While she rode with Sir Nicholas at her side there could be nothing to alarm her. She had doubted that he would not reach Madrid, and he had done so; she had been sure that he could not escape from prison, and he had escaped; she had feared that he would not survive yesterday's grim work, and here he was, safe and gay as ever. She could never again doubt his extraordinary faculty of coming off safe from seemingly hopeless traps.

  There seemed to be no peril now. Joshua might sniff the air, and keep an ear cocked to the rearward, but Sir Nicholas, leading the way over the hills, was care-free and merry. So, too, would his lady be, then.

  The long journey taxed her powers to the uttermost, but she would not admit her weariness. She sat as straight as she could, laughed at the bad road, swore she was very well content, and had no wish to rest her limbs. They lost the way; why, it was part of the a
dventure, and her Nicholas would soon find it again; her horse stumbled on a craggy mountainside and nearly came down with her: let them not worry, she was safe enough; the sun was scorchingly hot: why, she was used to a hot clime, and would take no hurt.

  Joshua was moved to admiration. ‘With good leave,’ he said, ‘I may remark that the señorita bears herself like an Englishwoman.’

  ‘This is to praise you, child,’ said Sir Nicholas, amused.

  She nodded and laughed, and grew pink. ‘I shall very shortly be one, Señor Pirate, shall I not?’ she said, and peeped at him.

  His hand closed on hers. ‘My heart!’

  They had to travel ’cross country where roads failed them, and this meant slow going for the most part, for the way was very rough, and they had need to study the rough plans Sir Nicholas had made. The shadows were lengthening long before they came within sight of the sea, and Joshua began to fret. He pushed up alongside to gain Beauvallet's ear. ‘Master, we shall never make it in time,’ he whispered.

  Dominica caught the whisper. ‘Then let us press on,’ she said. ‘We must have Señor Nicholas away tonight without fail.’

  That made Beauvallet laugh, and even drew a smile from Joshua. This, however, he quickly suppressed. ‘The señorita speaks wisely,’ he said. ‘Rare to junket about Spain singing catches as though we were at Alreston, but I would take leave to remind you, master, that you are a hunted man.’

  ‘Oh, wind-bag,’ said Sir Nicholas genially, ‘if I could make better way be sure I should. Broken knees won’t serve us. We shall make that port this night.’

  Make it they did, but later than they had hoped for, losing their road in the darkness, and only finding it again after much casting about. Dominica swayed in the saddle, upheld whenever it was possible by a strong, tireless arm, but when she heard Joshua swearing amongst the boulders she could still laugh, though it was but a weary, would-be valiant little laugh.

  They saw the lights of the tiny port ahead; Sir Nicholas snuffed the air. ‘I can smell the sea,’ he said. ‘Courage, my bird!’

  Her head drooped against his shoulder. He made a movement to summon up Joshua upon his other side. ‘Walk warily now,’ he said in a low voice. ‘If word was sent to the ports to stop our passage, those at Santander will know very well where to look for us.’

  Joshua started. ‘God's me, I had not thought of that! Ay, they would remember how you landed there.’

  A drowsy voice spoke from Beauvallet's shoulder. ‘Oh yes, they would never forget. We stayed with the Governor of Santander the day after you set us ashore, and I would you could have heard him.’

  Sir Nicholas looked significantly at Joshua. Joshua stifled a groan, and shrugged. ‘A posse of soldiers, I dare swear. I might have guessed we were not yet out of the trap.’ He looked up at the cloudy sky. ‘What o’clock? Nay, how shall we say? It but remains to find no ship awaiting. What, would she stay right through the night? One cannot suppose it. She will sniff the dawn at hand and be off.’

  ‘Dawn, stock-fish?’ said Sir Nicholas. ‘If it is past eleven you may call me a dolt.’

  ‘I have a better regard for my skin, master,’ said Joshua, with dignity.

  They gave a wide berth to the cluster of cottages that formed the port, and picked their way cautiously down the hill towards the sound of the sea lapping on the shingle. It was very dark, and the ground was strewed with rocks and hillocks and patches of stones. Sir Nicholas reined in his horse and turned in the saddle to speak to Joshua. ‘We make nothing by this. We shall do best to tether the nags and go on afoot.’

  Joshua nodded and slid down from the saddle. Sir Nicholas was on the ground, and already lifting Dominica down. Her legs almost gave way under her; she staggered and caught at his hand. He would have lifted her in his arms, but she shook her head. ‘No, no, I would rather walk. I am only so stiff.’

  They went forward, Joshua close behind them with the lantern he had bought that morning in Villanova. Somewhere below them the waves were breaking gently on the beach; the ground shelved steeply towards it. Sir Nicholas stopped. ‘Light the lantern, Joshua,’ he said softly.

  Joshua knelt to open it. He looked up. ‘Master, a cloak to hide the light.’

  Sir Nicholas swung the cloak from his shoulders and held it round both Joshua and the lamp. Joshua was busy with his tinder-box; a spark flared, and the wick caught.

  Dominica felt numb with fatigue still. She sank down on a convenient rock and watched Joshua tending his lamp under cover of the cloak. The wash of the sea sounded like a lullaby; she wondered whether, somewhere to the north in the velvety darkness the Venture lurked. They seemed so alone in the world in this silence of the night that it hardly seemed possible. Down by the huts men might be stirring, but here on the shelving stony ground all was silent, hushed by the sea.

  Sir Nicholas looked keenly round, peering through the darkness. For as far as he could see there was no one abroad. Come what might, the signal must be given. He took the lamp from Joshua and held it high above his head. Then he dipped it quickly, and cloaked it while a man might count twenty. Again he showed it, and yet a third time.

  There was a pause. ‘Oh knaves, if ye be not there!’ muttered Joshua. ‘Oh, Master Dangerfield, I do not trust you!’

  Away to the north out of the blackness shone a pinpoint of light three times. The Venture had answered the signal.

  ‘Ha, true men!’ said Joshua in high fettle. ‘I would wager young master Dangerfield against an hundred!’

  His wrist was clamped hard. ‘Silence, man!’ hissed Sir Nicholas, and threw up his head to listen.

  Joshua stiffened like a dog. To the west of them had come a shout, muffled by the wash of the sea.

  ‘God's Death, they’ve posted a sentry on the look-out!’ muttered Sir Nicholas, and pulled his long dagger from its sheath.

  Joshua had his head under the cloak blowing out the lantern. Heavy footsteps were approaching at a jog-trot. Sir Nicholas went forward into the night noiseless and swift.

  A man loomed up out of the darkness with a levelled halberd. He was on to Beauvallet before he realized it, and went down with no more than a groan as the dagger struck home.

  ‘Ha, neatly done!’ said Joshua, not above a whisper, and with complete satisfaction. He put up his own weapon, which he had snatched out as he ran after his master.

  But in the distance another cry sounded, as though a fellow soldier answered that first call.

  Sir Nicholas was back at Dominica's side wiping his dagger. ‘More of them,’ he said grimly. ‘The Governor of Santander has my compliments.’ He swept Dominica up into his arms. ‘Lie still, fondling,’ he said. ‘Naught to fear yet awhile. Down to the beach, Joshua, and on your life no sound!’

  He was off into the darkness as he spoke. Joshua crept after, murmuring to himself. ‘Naught to fear, forsooth! Well-a-day, well-a-day! and we with the whole pack like to be on us at any minute now! The fiend seize these stones!’

  They were halfway down the steep hillside, skirting rocks, slipping on loose stones. Above, on the higher ground, came the crack of an arquebus fired into the air.

  ‘Ha!’ muttered Joshua. ‘That may be a signal to the rest of the pack, but I warrant it will bring our men on fast! I shall die in my bed yet. Courage, Joshua!’ He felt level sands under his feet, and quickened his steps to come up with Sir Nicholas, lost in the darkness. Behind, on the high ground, footsteps were running and voices could be heard calling to one another. From the huts to the west came also a stir. Lights showed bobbing on the path above. The hunt was up.

  Dominica was set on her feet by the water's edge. Sir Nicholas wrenched his fretful sword from the scabbard, watching those moving lights as they came nearer, wobbling down the slope, outlining the forms of armed men.

  The soldiers were casting about now from the looks of it. In the glimmer of the few lanterns Beauvallet could see them peering and searching with halberds levelled. There was but a handful of them, but enough to set
tle the account of two Englishmen; and from the huts, along the path upon the hill, more were coming to their assistance.

  Joshua had waded out into the water, striving to catch the sound of oars. He came back and touched Beauvallet's arm. ‘To the right, master, I think.’

  Sir Nicholas took Dominica's hand and followed. The faint sound of oars grew more distinct; others beside themselves had heard it. From farther up the beach came a shout of command, and a surge of some four or five men towards the water.

  ‘Row, ye devils, row!’ groaned Joshua, fairly dancing with impatience.

  The soldiers were slipping and stumbling over the shingle; from the dark water came a lusty shout; they could hear Dangerfield's clear voice raised: ‘Pull, sluggards, pull!’ Then the richer voice of the boatswain came to them, chanting in imitation of a waterman: ‘Heave and ho! rumbelow!’

  It was a race now grimmer than any that had been, a race between the boat cleaving desperately through the water and the soldiers pelting down to cut off the fugitives. Joshua stayed peering out to sea to spy the boat, but Sir Nicholas had his back turned and waited, drawn sword in hand, to check the rush from the land.

  The splash of oars was close now: another moment and Joshua saw the boat come nosing shoreward. Behind him the foremost of the soldiers had run on his doom, and Sir Nicholas’ sword was red. But now lusty seamen were wading ashore, jostling each other to be the first to reach land, and the air was rent by solid English oaths. The handful of soldiers on the beach drew back. They had courage enough, but lacked a leader, and it was plain that a sprinkling of soldiers could not hope to stand against this troop of bloodthirsty seamen. They fell back then and sent up a mighty yell to warn their comrades that there was need of haste. But the party from the huts was not yet at hand, though it was coming with all possible speed to the rescue.