The Quest of the 'Golden Hope': A Seventeenth Century Story of Adventure
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CHAPTER III
Captain Jeremy's Surprise.
"What hath befallen you?" asked my father anxiously, as we crossedthe threshold of the house. "Ye are both as pale as ghosts, and yourclothes, Clifford, are smothered in dust. Hath Trotter thrown you?"
For answer, Constance sat down upon a settle and sobbedhysterically, while my father, stopping abruptly his task ofquestioning us, bestirred himself to comfort her.
"Two dragoons have molested us," I announced. "They were in pursuitof Captain Miles."
"Have they hurt you?" he asked.
"Nay, but little--thanks to the Captain." In a few words I relatedthe incidents that had terminated in the death of the two villains.My father looked grave.
"And Jeremy?" he asked. "Hath he gone to Lymington?"
"Nay, he awaits me by the Beaulieu bridle path."
"'Tis well for him, though I am loath to risk His Majesty'sdispleasure in succouring rebels. Yet, especially as he did befriendyou, I'll do my best to repay Jeremy's kindness. He must not go toLymington, Clifford."
"He doth not intend to do so," said I. "He is making for Pitt'sDeep."
"Equally as rash as if he journeyed to Lymington. I, too, heard thenews this morning soon after you left. The dragoons watch every mileof this part of the coast, and at every little port a watch is set,so that no strangers dare set foot on shipboard without beingclosely questioned. My son, I take the risk even of harbouring arebel. I'll go with thee and speak my mind with friend Jeremy."
Bidding Martha, our housekeeper, stay with Constance, and impressingupon her the necessity for silence as to what had occurred, myfather, taking a mattock in his hand, set out to the scene of theencounter, I accompanying him, and carrying the spades over myshoulder.
"Where is the package I bade you bring from Lyndhurst?" he asked, aswe left the outskirts of the village.
I searched the pockets of my doublet without success, though I wascertain that the article had been safely placed in one of them.
"It must have fallen out on the road," I replied.
"'Tis a grave matter," he said, with a look of anxiety and a gestureof impatience. "How can I--but there! if 't comes to the worst, Imust journey into Southampton myself. 'Tis the fortune of war."
No more was said, for we were already in sight of the cross-roads,and Captain Miles was sitting on the bracken-covered bank awaitingus.
"Good day to you, Cap'n Hammond!" he exclaimed as we approached."'Tis a sad business dragging you and yours into this bickering."
"Yet, thanks to Heaven and your aid, my children were saved from theclutches of those rogues."
"Had it not been for me the rascals would not have been here,"replied Captain Miles apologetically. "Yet I thank you, sir, forcoming to my assistance, though 'tis to the advantage of this partof the countryside that we hide this carrion," and he pointed withhis finger to the bodies of the two dragoons.
We set to work with a will, and in less than a quarter of an hour ashallow trench was dug sufficiently deep to receive the corpses ofthe ruffianly soldiers.
"Egad! 'tis warm work," exclaimed my father, leaning on his mattockas the first part of the task was completed.
"I'm right sorry I've no rum to offer you," said Captain Miles,wiping his heated brow. "You see, we're not aboard the old_Venture_, otherwise 'twould be different."
"I, too, regret that I brought not my flask of cordials," replied myfather.
"There is a bottle of strong waters that I found close to the bodyof one of these villains," remarked Jeremy; "but though I did makethree good attempts at it, 'twas more than I could stomach. Itsmells aright, but the taste--faugh! I have it in my mouth yet. Tryit, Captain Hammond, and see if it suit thy palate."
So saying, he produced a bottle and handed it to my father, who gavean exclamation of surprise, quickly followed by a hearty laugh.
"Why, what's amiss?" asked the astonished Captain, as my fatherthrust the bottle into his pocket.
"Hist! I'll tell thee anon," said my sire mysteriously. "Now, let'sresume our task."
The carcasses of the troopers' horses, the victims of CaptainMiles's self-preservation, were next interred; while, to make doublysure, the mount that Jeremy had borrowed from the Ringwood farmerwas also buried.
This done, I happened to cross the highway, where, to my surprise, Ifound the wrappings of the package for which we had journeyed intoLyndhurst on that eventful morning.
"See! here is the covering of your packet," I exclaimed, holding itup to my father's view.
"Aye, Clifford, I know it. Say no more on this matter."
Inwardly wondering, I obeyed. Whatever the package contained, I nowfelt certain that 'twas the same stuff as Jeremy Miles had attemptedto swallow.
"Now, look you, Captain Miles," said my father, as we prepared toreturn homewards, "neither Lymington nor Pitt's Deep offers anasylum for you. To go to either place is to set your head in a trap.I have made up my mind that you must tarry with us at Brockenhursttill this storm has blown over."
"Nay, 'tis unfair to saddle you with the presence of a proclaimedrebel," objected Captain Jeremy stoutly. "The service I renderedyour children does not warrant such a generous payment. I'll acceptyour hospitality for this night, and at sunrise to-morrow I'll makemy way into Sussex. I know of an old shipmate at Shoreham who'llgladly set me across to France."
"You'll never get out of Hampshire, my friend," interrupted myfather; "at least, not yet awhile. Perchance the tide of monarchywill change again, though, mark you, I'd far rather have JamesStuart as my lawful sovereign than James Walters. No, no, I say;further flight is out of the question. At Brockenhurst you will staytill I give you leave to go farther afield."
'Twas no light matter to smuggle the fugitive into our home; but wedid it, and for the next week or more Captain Miles remained withindoors, my father having pointed out to him the secret panel in caseof an emergency. This surprised me not a little, for he was usuallyvery reticent about this matter. True, I had been told of theexistence of the hiding-place, but even Constance was kept inignorance of it. The person who contrived the sliding panel musthave done his work well, for no one unacquainted with its mechanismcould cause it to move. But I've said enough concerning this matter,for although 'tis well known that our home does possess such acontrivance, its position and the method of working it still remaina secret locked in the breast of a trusted few, and 'twould not bedoing my duty towards the Hammonds that are to come were I to saymore.
Yet there was no reason for alarm. Though troops of horse oftenpassed through Brockenhurst on their way to and from Lymington, nonestopped to search for rebels. Neither did the disappearance of twoof Cornbury's Dragoons cause any trouble, for we learnt that theywere set down as deserters, while, as good fortune would have it, areport came in that two men answering their description had beenseen riding northwards out of Salisbury.
One morning I was seated with Captain Jeremy in the little roomwhere he was wont to spend most of his time. Often I would gothither to be regaled with stories of his voyage to the Indies andhis adventures in foreign parts, till my young blood coursed madlythrough my veins; and so strange were some of the tales he told thatI'm afraid his share of imagination must have been a double one.
In the midst of his narrative on this particular day, my fatherentered, having just returned from Lymington Town.
"I have bad news for you," he announced.
"'Tis not the first time, Captain Hammond," replied Jeremycomposedly. "What is it this time?"
"The sheriff hath taken possession of your house, and it and all itscontents are to be sold by candle auction."[1]
"'Tis the fortune of war," said Captain Miles, removing his longclay pipe from his lips and puffing out a thick cloud of smoke. "Iexpected it, and provided for it ere I left for Monmouth's camp.What money I possess, beyond what I require for my presentdisbursements, I have stowed away in the hold of the good ship'Never-Sink'--to wit, Mother Earth. But there is one thing I'd beglad to lay my
hands on. Wouldst be willing to buy a certain articleout of my house?"
"Would I could buy the lot!"
"Nay, 'tis but a picture--a painting of my good barque the_Venture_, done in oils by a rascally Neapolitan, for which hecharged me five ducats, though he did place the chain plates too faraft, and the spritsail yard above the bowsprit."
"'Tis a common fault with a landlubber," said my parent."Nevertheless, I'll see to it."
"I prize the painting but lightly," continued Jeremy; "but there'smore in it than meets the eye."
"I do not understand."
"Captain Hammond, you've treated me right nobly, and 'twould illbecome me were I not to repay you to the utmost of my power. I'll bestraightforward in this matter. Listen!"
My father motioned to me to leave them, but, perceiving the gesture,Captain Jeremy exclaimed:
"No, no, let the lad remain, for 'tis also to his advantage to hear.That picture contains the true and only clue to the lost treasureship _Madre de Dios_."
[1] This custom appears to be fairly common in south-coast ports. InSeptember, 1628, the Mayor of Portsmouth reported to the Admiraltythat "The The Gift of God", prize, was sold on the last day ofAugust by the burning of a candle.