CHAPTER II.
THE YOUNG HEIR OF MODBURY.
"I can scarce agree with you there," remarked the young man whomDrusilla had described as a poor helpless wreck. He was a thin,sallow-faced, sad-looking individual, with lank black hair, hollowcheeks, and weary, lack-lustre eyes. His ruff was limp and frayed at theedge, and his long scraggy neck rose out of it like the stump of amushroom that had difficulty in supporting the large head thatsurmounted it. His sombre black cloth doublet hung loose about hisbody, and its elbows were worn threadbare. One of his long bony fingerswas thrust between the closed leaves of a little book that he heldlovingly in his hand. His whole appearance suggested that his habit oflife was that of a student, and his discourse certainly did not give thelie to his appearance.
"I can scarce agree with you, Sir Richard," said he in a thin, pipyvoice. "Your Ovid is indeed a prince among poets, but in my own pooropinion Virgil is the greater of the two, inasmuch as the epic isgreater than the lyric."
"Nay, but I care not to dispute such deep and learned matters with you,Master Pym," returned the other with a yawn that betrayed his wearinessof the student's argument. "You are a scholar who knoweth all thesethings as I do know the ropes of a ship, while I am but a simple seaman,devoid of learning, who hath scarce opened a book since I was a merestripling. Talk to me of travel if you like, or of Her Majesty's temper,and I will give ear to you, but to books and poets I cry avast!" Heshifted his position on the fallen tree upon which he was sitting, andturned his clear gray eyes in the direction of the plantation towardswhich, a few minutes before, Drusilla had sailed off in quest ofadventure. "Ah!" he cried, observing the girl approaching with TimothyTrollope at her heels. "Whom have we here--a prisoner of war? Why, I'llbe sworn 'tis the self-same young jackanapes that leapt into Sutton Poolyester-morn to rescue the drunken fisherman that fell in! Dost know thename of him, Master Pym?"
The scholar drew the wide brim of his hat over his brow to shield hiseyes from the glare of the sun.
"Ay," he said after a long pause, "I know him. 'Tis one of BarberTrollope's brood--a wild, thoughtless ragamuffin, that doth spend hisdays in loitering about the quays and picking up the talk of roughmariners. But what, I'd like to know, can Mistress Drusilla mean by thusdragging him hither? I warrant me she hath caught him in some poachingbusiness."
Sir Richard stroked his crisp dark beard and said with a laugh:
"'Tis far more likely she hath taken him for some Barbary corsair, andis bringing him back as a prize. For you must bear in mind, Master Pym,that the maid left us on a treasure-hunting cruise. Ay, I'll be bound'tis as I say," he added, as Drusilla came into the harbour of thetrees. "She hath the rascal in tow, look you, with his belt for hawser."
At this moment a fleet of English merchantmen, in the boyish person ofMaster Gilbert Oglander, hove into sight in the offing; and Drusilla,relinquishing her prize and sternly bidding Timothy to remain at anchoruntil her return, ran off to meet her brother.
Timothy respectfully took off his cap and stood mutely in front of thehandsome bearded gentleman whom Master Pym had addressed as "SirRichard", not daring to raise his eyes from the ground.
"How now, boy!" cried Sir Richard in a gruff voice, that seemed to havein it something of the deep roar of the sea waves breaking uponcavernous rocks. "What hath brought thee here? Hast been a-thieving ofhis lordship's rabbits, quotha?"
"No, please your worship," stammered Timothy, "I have done no manner ofharm."
"Then wherefore are you here, a-trespassing on private lands?" demandedSir Richard.
"Mistress Oglander did arrest me, yonder by the trees," answered Tim. "Iwas about to go home when she came behind me and seized me, declaringthat I was a Spanish treasure-ship. I yielded to her humour, and--"
"Ay," interrupted Sir Richard with a grim smile, "I'll be sworn youyielded--as all Spaniards must when 'tis question of fighting with awell-found English ship such as the one that conquered you. But,prithee, what may it be that you have concealed in yon fat wallet atyour back? I'll engage it is a pheasant-bird, or else a brace of plumppartridges. Come, my young poacher, open your wallet that I may see!"
He caught the boy by the shoulder and turned him round, grabbing at thebag.
"'Tis but a few poor herbs, your honour, that I have been gathering formy father," explained Tim, opening the bag.
"And what does your father with such wretched weeds?" demanded SirRichard.
"They are to be made into physic, sir," said the lad.
"Physic?" cried Sir Richard, shaking his head in doubt. "Nay, poisonmore like! What is thy name, boy?"
"Timothy Trollope, at your honour's service," returned Tim. "Father's abarber-surgeon."
"Ay, a barbarous surgeon truly, if 'twas he that patched up JanCoppinger's broken skull last week. I'd have made a goodlier job of itmyself. And so Timothy is your name, eh? Well, I'll bear it in mind,boy; for 'twas you, if I mistake not, that I saw yester-noon helping todrag tipsy Tom Vercoe out of Sutton Pool. 'Twas a kindly deed, to saythe least on't. And look you, Master Timothy, if ever you should take tothe notion, as most boys do if I know ought of boyhood, of joining HerMajesty's service on the sea, you have but to acquaint me with it, andI'll be sworn you shall not wait long for a ship. Dost know me?"
Timothy's face brightened as he answered:
"There be few boys in Plymouth town that do not know your worship. Youare Sir Richard Grenville that went out to Virginia, and that alsofought against the infidels at Lepanto."
The joyous young voice of Drusilla Oglander broke in upon this littleconversation.
"Come, Captain Grenville," said she, taking Sir Richard by the arm anddragging him under the shadow of one of the beech-trees. "Y'are standingin the middle of the sea where you are. We are about to play at a greatsea-fight, and you are to be the Spanish fleet."
It was strange to see the tall strong man being led about by this littlegirl and made to do her bidding as if she had been his sovereign queen.
"Even as you list, good my mistress," said he with a docile submissionwhich was hardly to be expected in one who had the reputation of being acruel and relentless warrior. "I am willing to enact whatsoever part youplease; only, if, as I suspect, I am to be the Armada, as you made me onthe other occasion when you brought me to such disaster, I do beseechyou to excuse me the long voyage round the islands of Orkney, for mylimbs are scarce equal to the journey this morning."
"You shall take what part you choose," interposed Gilbert Oglander,standing at his sister's side and glancing up into Sir RichardGrenville's twinkling gray eyes.
Gilbert was a boy of thirteen years old, very agile and active. His hairwas very dark, and its darkness made his skin seem all the more fair andclear. In stature he was not very tall for his age, but his limbs weresinewy and strong, and one could see at a glance that he was of gentlebirth, that he had lived much of his life in the open air, and that hewas well fitted to endure all manner of fatigue.
"You shall take what part you choose," said he.
"Why, then, an that be so," returned Captain Grenville, "I will chooseto be Don Hugo de Moncada's great galleass, for then I may lie and restme on Calais beach and thus be out of the action, as she was when sheran aground."
"Yes," agreed Drusilla; "but first you must be the whole Spanish fleet,anchored in Calais Roads. Master Pym will help you to make a show ofnumbers, while Gilbert will, of course, be Sir Francis Drake on boardthe _Revenge_, and Sir Martin Frobisher on board the _Triumph_, andwhichever other of our English admirals he doth care to be. I am myselfto be the lord admiral's flag-ship."
"And, prithee, what ship or squadron of ships doth young TimothyTrollope represent?" questioned Sir Richard Grenville. "Surely you willnot scorn so useful an addition to the game?"
"We had best make Timothy enact the part of the English fire-ships,"suggested Christopher Pym, smiling as his eyes rested upon the lad'sbright red hair. And at his suggestion Drusilla clapped h
er handstogether and cried "Yes, he shall be the fire-ships!"
And she forthwith proceeded to point out to her strangely-assortedplaymates how the wide stretch of grass in front of them was to beunderstood by them all to be the Narrow Seas, how the distant plantationwhere Timothy had gathered his herbs was to represent the French coastbetween Calais and Dunquerque, and how the embankment of the fish-pondwas to be Calais Roads. The higher ground under the beech-trees wherethe five were now standing was to be looked upon as the Kentish cliffs.
These matters being arranged to the understanding of all, the SpanishArmada, in the persons of Sir Richard Grenville and Master ChristopherPym, sailed obediently up the English Channel, pursued at no greatdistance by the English flag-ship and her consorts, who assailed theirenemy with round after round of heavy shot, discharged from theirchase-guns. There was one very tremendous engagement between Frobisher's_Triumph_ and the Spanish _Santa Anna_, which presently grew into ageneral conflict in which many ships were sunk. Then the Spaniards, muchcrippled in the fray, were permitted to sail on again, only to be againpursued by their persistent foes. The English ships bore down upon them,and then, being within easy range, luffed up and poured their broadsidesinto the enemy's hulls with relentless fury. But the Armada lookedalways as formidable as ever, and again and again they formed themselvesin line of battle, to endure yet again the prolonged fire of the Englishguns.
At last the Queen's fleet fell back and allowed the Spaniards to sail onin calm security to their desired refuge in Calais Roads. When, as theyimagined, they were at a safe anchorage and hoped to repair the damagesof battle (for in truth Sir Richard Grenville had received somesurprising buffetings at the hands of Drusilla and Gilbert Oglander, tosay nothing of Master Pym, whose wide-brimmed hat lay abandoned inmid-channel), the English ships drew near with the fell purpose ofdislodging the enemy and driving them out into the open sea. And whennight was supposed to have fallen, the lord-admiral and Sir FrancisDrake put their woolly heads together in warlike conference and decidedto send forth their fire-ships into the midst of the galleons.
Timothy Trollope received his instructions, and straightway drifted intothe bay, waving his hands aloft like leaping flames. His near approachthreatened to spread disaster among the ships of Spain, and at a givensignal from the _San Martin_ the dons all slipped their anchors, and ina confusion of panic endeavoured to make an escape. In the panic thegreat galleass of Don Hugo de Moncada ran aground on the sands and therelay basking in the sun, an unconcerned witness of the conflict thatensued between Pym and Trollope, who had now turned Spaniard, on the oneside and Drusilla and her brother on the other.
Drusilla was bent upon carrying through the mimic fight to the battle ofGravelines, and, drawing Gilbert apart, she allowed Timothy and MasterPym to sail out into the Channel for some distance before starting inpursuit. It seemed to Sir Richard Grenville as he watched them thatthere occurred some change in their tactics, for Gilbert Oglander,having made pretence of sinking some half-score of the Armada ships,suddenly drew off and approached a very tall tree that stood alone on awide expanse of grass. The lad placed his hands on the tree-trunk,looked up into the leafy branches and presently began to climb upward.
"Peradventure he intends to assail the enemy from the tops with musketand arquebus," mused Sir Richard, and he continued to watch his youngfriend ascending from branch to branch. Up and up he climbed till hereached one of the topmost boughs, and then he lay out upon the stoutbranch and crept along it towards its more slender end. Suddenly heslipped. For a moment it seemed as if he were about to fall to theground, some thirty feet below, but he caught the branch under his rightarm, and remained there suspended.
Understanding the boy's danger, Captain Grenville quickly rose to hisfeet and ran towards the tree.
"Hold fast!" he cried as he got to the foot of the tree.
Gilbert raised himself a few inches until he could catch hold of thebough with his second hand, and there he hung, calling aloud for help.
Sir Richard gripped the tree and was about to make the attempt to climbup to the boy's rescue, when his shoulders were seized by a pair ofhands, someone leapt upon his back and clambered over him, crushing himdown under two heavy boots. When the weight was removed from him helooked up and saw young Timothy Trollope scaling the tree withastonishing speed.
"Help! help! or I shall fall!" cried Gilbert Oglander.
"Hold but another moment," returned Timothy; and ascending to the branchfrom which Gilbert was hanging he worked his way along it, and, leaningover like a very monkey, caught the lad in his one strong right arm andraised him bodily up to a position of safety.
For some minutes the two lads sat astride the bough facing each other,speaking never a word.
"Certes," cried Gilbert at last, breaking the silence, "'twas a narrowescape that! I was as near as might be to falling."
"In sooth I believe you were," agreed Timothy; "and it had been a goodlyfall whichever way you had landed."
"But for your timely help I should have been sorely hurt for acertainty," remarked Gilbert; and then after a brief pause he added:"Prithee, how shall I reward you withal?"
"Nay, I need no reward, and will take none," returned Timothy.
"Yea, but you shall have a suitable recompense; for it hath cost yousomething as I see," said Gilbert. "Look at your doublet, 'tis torn downthe front. And you have scratched your face too."
Timothy examined into his own hurts and said with a careless smile:
"Tut! 'tis nothing. Both the rent and the scratch will easily mend;whereas if your worship had fallen to the ground it must surely havebeen a matter for the physician, and haply a month's idleness in yourbed. And now, so please you, we will, if you are ready, climb downagain, for Sir Richard Grenville is calling to you, bidding you tell himif you are hurt."
When the two had got down to the ground again, it was to find thatDrusilla had run off to a farther end of the meadow, where a double rowof giant trees marked the long avenue leading up from the lodge gates toModbury Manor. From where he stood Timothy could hear the sound ofhorses' feet and the jingling of stirrups and harness. It was thehawking party returning from the chase, and not until he saw them amongthe trees of the avenue did he remember the resolve he had made a littlewhile before, to seek out his lordship's steward and ask him for work inthe stables. Turning to Master Gilbert Oglander, who was on the point offollowing Drusilla, Timothy ventured to say:
"I beg your honour's pardon, but since you were so gracious a moment agoas to offer me a favour in return for the slight help I gave you, I havea boon that I would ask of you."
"Name it," demanded Gilbert.
"Ay, name it, lad," urged Sir Richard Grenville, playfully slapping Timon his broad back. "Thou'rt a deserving boy, that hath the makings of aman in him, and shalt have whatsoever boon thou dost name. So out withit, and be not over-modest in thy request."
Timothy's eyes rested still upon the handsome young countenance ofMaster Gilbert Oglander.
"'Tis this that I would crave," said he, "that you would by your favourhelp me to get work as a stable-boy or a shepherd or a falconer in hislordship your grandfather's service."
Gilbert Oglander nodded and said smilingly:
"Gladly will I do that for you, Master Trollope; ay, and more, for itseemeth to me you are fit for better work than to groom horses or tofeed greedy hawks; and, moreover, I have taken somewhat of a fancy toyou." He looked aside at Sir Richard Grenville. "What say you, CaptainGrenville?" he questioned. "Dost think he'll do in the place of WillLeigh? Will is about to join Her Majesty's service, you know."
Thus appealed to, Sir Richard spoke very highly of Timothy Trollope, andadded that he would himself see Lord Champernoun touching the matter.And at this Timothy thanked them both and presently turned on his wayback to Plymouth, overjoyed at the new prospect that had so unexpectedlyopened out before him.
As he trudged homeward along the leafy lanes he sang over and over againthe snatch of a song of the t
ime:
"I would not be a serving-man To carry the cloak-bag still,Nor would I be a falconer The greedy hawks to fill;But I would be in a good house, And have a good master too;And I would eat and drink of the best, And no work would I do."
It was not many days afterwards that Lord Champernoun, riding intoPlymouth, halted at the sign of the Pestle and Mortar and informed thebarber-surgeon that his son Timothy was to consider himself engaged assquire and personal attendant to Master Gilbert. His lordship gaveinstructions that Timothy was to go at once to Silas Quiller, thetailor, to be measured for two suits of the Oglander livery, and that assoon as the lad was fitted-out he was to repair to the manor and tobegin his duties.
Those duties were very simple, as Timothy early discovered. He was toact as valet to the young heir of Modbury; to comb his hair in themornings, keep his wardrobe in good order, attend him on his journeys,and do his bidding in all things. At the first Timothy was very humble,as he deemed it his duty to be; but as the months went on and heacquired some of the manners of the gentlefolk among whom he was placed,he became more familiar with his young master, who treated him more as acompanion and a playmate than as a servant. Yet Timothy neveroverstepped the limits of his position, but was always respectful andsubmissive and loyal.
The Golden Galleon Page 5
