The Golden Galleon

by Robert Leighton

  CHAPTER IX.

  CONCERNING A STOLEN LETTER.

  Timothy had given the old man a pair of cloth shoes in place of themud-covered boots that he had worn on his walk from the village, and hadhimself changed his rough outdoor clothes for a suit of dark-bluefrieze.

  "What have we here?" questioned the baron, turning in his chair andlooking towards the door.

  "'Tis Master Jacob Hartop, my lord," answered Timothy, "the same who wasrobbed yesternight."

  "That matter is settled, for the men are arrested," said his lordshipwith a wave of his thin white hand that was meant for a dismissal. "Ihave now no need of the man's evidence. You had best take him down tothe town and let Justice Oldfield examine him." His eyes rested uponHartop for a moment. "Yet stay," he added. And then, addressing Hartop,he said: "Art thou a man of Devon, prithee?"

  "I am, your lordship," answered Jacob. "So please you, I am Modburyborn, and did serve your lordship's family in my youth--until, my lord,your father got me a ship and I went to sea."

  "How long time have you been absent from England?" Lord Champernounasked, gazing dreamily into the fire.

  "'Tis nigh upon three-and-twenty years since last I trod upon theseshores," the old mariner answered.

  "What is your history during all those years?" pursued the nobleman.

  "A troublous one, my lord. So please you, I was one of Captain JohnHawkins' men that went out with him from Plymouth in the year fifteenhundred and sixty-seven. I was his master's mate aboard the _Minion_,and was with him in his fight at San Juan de Ulloa. Captain Hawkins leftme, with certain others, in Mexico, where I remained for two years,until I fell into the hands of the Spaniards, who carried me off toSpain. I was a prisoner in the Contratation House of Cadiz for twelvemonths, and a slave in one of the galleys of Don Andrea Doria for twoyears more, being present as a slave on that admiral's flag-ship at thebattle of Lepanto." He broke off, glancing nervously from one to theother of the company. At the mention of the battle of Lepanto SirRichard Grenville raised his eyebrows. No one spoke, however, andpresently the old buccaneer continued:

  "Transferred to one of King Philip's great galleons, I was taken oncemore to the Spanish Indies; but by God's providence the galleon wascaptured on the high seas by Captain Ned Horseley, the Englishbuccaneer, and I was by him handed over to Captain Francis Drake. UnderDrake, so please you, I served at the attack on Nombre de Dios, and atthe taking of Porto Bello in the year seventy-two. Again I fell into thehands of our enemies, and was for eight long years in the EverlastingPrison Remediless in Hispaniola; since when I have been in theIndies--in Darien, in Brazil, in Virginia. I had the good fortune tocome into possession of a great galleon, with which I roved the seas,making many conquests and gaining great wealth. But again I had the illfortune to lose her. Thereafter I found my way out to the WesternIndies, and have now come back from Havana in the good ship _Pearl_."

  His listeners nodded and smiled as he ended his narrative.

  "What say you to that, Sir Walter?" asked Lord Champernoun, turning toRaleigh.

  "A goodly record, o' my conscience," returned Sir Walter. And glancingtowards Hartop he added: "And so thou hast been robbed--eh, my man?Prithee, what might have been the value of your stolen property?"

  Hartop hesitated and looked a little confused. At last he said, bowingto Raleigh:

  "So please your honour, is it to Sir Walter Raleigh that I do nowspeak?"

  Sir Walter Raleigh nodded. "Yes, I was asking thee the value of thystolen goods."

  "Nay, I know not precisely," answered Hartop. "It might be about thevalue of five or six hundred pounds in the form of pearls and emeraldsand gew-gaws of such sort. But of these I care naught, for there wasthat in my wallet which I had rather have given my life than lose--aletter addressed to your worshipful self, that I was bidden to give withall speed into your honour's hands. I had thought it was safe in thepocket of my hose until late yesternight, but then I minded that ere Ileft the ship I put it into my wallet. And 'tis gone--God forgive me,'tis gone!"

  "From Havana, say you?" cried Sir Walter Raleigh doubtingly. "Prithee,who writ it?"

  "Captain William Marsden, please your worship."

  "Marsden?" echoed Raleigh. "But he is dead. He died ere the _Pearl_ setsail on her homeward voyage. Jasper Oglander told me so. 'Twas of amalarial fever that he died."

  Hartop shook his head and rejoined very calmly: "No; so please yourworship 'twas not fever. Master Oglander must surely have beenmisinformed, or else--" He broke off, glancing apprehensively at LordChampernoun. "Captain Marsden was murdered, your worship, and he writthe letter, knowing beforehand that his life was menaced."

  "Some treachery at work, eh?" muttered Sir Walter. "Well, and theletter. Dost know naught of its purport?"

  "Naught saving the words that the captain spake as he gave it unto me,"answered Hartop. "They were these: 'Guard the letter with thy life,Hartop, and let no Spaniard or friend of Spain know aught of itsexistence. Deliver it into the hands of Sir Walter Raleigh wheresoeverhe may be found, and, failing him, any one of Her Majesty's privycouncillors. If thou shouldst fall into the hands of our enemies,destroy the letter. If thou shouldst lose it, which Heaven forfend, gostill to Raleigh and tell him this: tell him that the King of Spain'speople in the Indies have gathered together here in the treasure-housesof Havana the vastest store of silver and gold that hath ever been knownupon earth, and that it is the intention of the King to have all thistreasure transported into Spain, to the end that he may--in revenge forthe great loss he hath lately suffered at the hands of England--build ayet greater armada than that of two years ago, wherewith to invade andconquer our Queen's dominions. Bid Sir Walter bear this in mind: thatthe taking of that treasure into Spain doth mean nothing short of thedownfall of England and all her glory upon the seas.'"

  "Yes, yes," interrupted Sir Walter, striding to and fro athwart the endof the table. "But all this I did know passing well before--although,indeed I was scarce aware that the treasure was so great. Even now atthis present time Hawkins and Frobisher are lying in wait with theirships at the Azores, with intent to intercept the Spanish galleons."

  "Your pardon, sir, but so please you I am not done," returned JacobHartop. "The more important part is to come. King Philip of Spain, itseemeth from what Captain Marsden told me, is fully aware that theEnglish ships are even now lying in wait for his galleons; and thecaptain bade me tell your honour that if matters remain as they now are,those ships will continue so to lie inactive until their hulls be alleaten with the worm and their crews all dead of famine and disease."

  "And how so?" demanded Raleigh in a loud voice. "Are they not as wellequipped as any fleet that ever sailed out of England, quotha?"

  Hartop shrank back, overawed by the great courtier's imperative manner.

  "I am striving to repeat Captain Marsden's message," he said meekly; andthen he went on more boldly: "Inclosed with the letter I have sounfortunately lost there was, I believe (although I of course saw itnot), a copy of King Philip's own private instructions to the admiral ofthe plate fleet, sent out secretly to Havana. They arrived there butthree days before Captain Marsden received his intelligence. Thoseinstructions were to the effect that the galleons were to remain inHavana throughout the winter, and to set sail on the first day of themonth of March next, by which time the English ships, their hulls rottenand their crews reduced by pestilence, would be too weak to offer anyobstacle."

  "Ah, now do I begin to perceive some daylight!" exclaimed Sir WalterRaleigh--"as much, it may be, as if I had e'en read the letter thou hastguarded so ill." He turned to Lord Champernoun. "That letter must befound," he said. "It will go ill with us if it fall into the hands ofany friend of Spain. I beg thee to see to it in such wise as may seemmost expedient. In the meantime--although I am sorry to abridge my sopleasant visit--I must hie me back to London. Cousin Dick," he added,nodding to Captain Grenville, "there is work for thee in this matter, Ido promise thee."<
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  Timothy Trollope had not heard this conversation. Having ushered JacobHartop into Lord Champernoun's presence, he had withdrawn from thelibrary and made his way up the stairs to his young master's bedroom.The sound of merry laughter greeted him from within as he reached thedoor. He knocked and entered, and found Gilbert sitting up in bed with asmile on his face, and with his bandaged arm resting in a sling ofbrilliant red silk. The Lady Betty sat at his bedside, at work with herneedle upon a piece of tapestry; Drusilla, seated on a low stool at hermother's feet, was nursing a litter of mewing kittens. Philip Oglanderoccupied a chair close by, and was speaking when Timothy appeared,entertaining his cousins by his descriptions of life in Brazil, ofadventurous journeys through primeval forests, of horseback rides acrossthe wide pampas, and dream-like voyages among the islands of theAntilles.

  "And prithee, cousin Philip, didst never go to any school out there inthose beauteous places?" asked Drusilla.

  And Philip answered:

  "Nay, there be neither schools nor colleges in the Brazil, saving onlythose which are kept up by the Jesuit fathers, and with them and theirRomish fashions I could have no dealings."

  "And yet thou'rt not lacking in classical knowledge," remarked LadyBetty with a smile, as she plied her busy needle; "for I heard thee buta little while since reading to Gilbert out of his book of Virgil, andit seemeth to me that thy skill in the Latin tongue doth greatly excelthat of many English boys I have known who have studied at the greatcolleges of Oxford."

  At this Philip shrugged his shoulders and affected to make light of theaccomplishment, concealing the fact that it was one of those same Jesuitpriests who had taught him in one of the Romish colleges of Brazil.

  Lady Betty smiled at him yet again. "Thou'rt too modest, Master Philip,"said she.

  "Ay," added Gilbert; "but I have observed that Philip doth ever striveto avoid all vain boastfulness."

  "'Tis a commendable quality," remarked his mother.

  Clearly did it appear to Timothy Trollope that Philip had already wonhis way into the good opinion of his relatives, and that they weredisposed to like him, not only because of his relationship, but also, asit seemed, because of a certain air of natural courtliness that revealeditself in his manner of speech. Moreover, there was an attraction in hisdark handsome face and in his dreamy beautiful eyes which made him verywinsome. Even Timothy, who had from the first taken a strong prejudiceagainst him, could not but admit to himself that there was something ofinborn nobility about the lad which might give the lie to all that oldHartop had hinted regarding him.

  Later on that same day, when Sir Walter Raleigh and his retinue haddeparted, Timothy took horse and rode in to Plymouth to attend theexamination of the two poachers before Justice Oldfield. Jacob Hartop,Bob Harvey, and Jake Thew had ridden in advance of him, and he did notovertake them until they were on the outskirts of the town, at a littlewayside hostelry where their horses were stabled, and thence they walkedto the court-house.

  Hartop and Timothy walked together along by the harbour, when, onapproaching the quay against which the good ship _Pearl_ was now lying,they came upon a crowd of men--mariners, fishermen, and merchants--whoappeared to be greatly concerned in some matter which was going on intheir midst.

  "AND HOW FARES IT WITH THEE, OLD SHIPMATE?"]

  "Ah! I can e'en guess what 'tis," said Hartop. "'Tis Captain Evansputting up our crew of blackamoors to auction. He bought 'em over inFlorida, lacking better hands, to work the ship home. Ay, and a sorrylot they proved, Master Timothy. I warrant he'll get scarce a half ofthe price he gave for them. Thou seest the black woolly poll of the tallAfrican who is standing upon the wine-cask close against the auctioneer?We named him AEsop, by reason of his fables. He was once upon a time thereigning king of a country nigh unto Sierra Leone, with as many wives asthere be days in the year. Captain Hawkins captured him and sold him tothe Spaniards. He served as our cook aboard the _Pearl_, and I promiseyou he made such soup as the Queen herself might relish. As for hismanner of cooking a cutting from off the side of a shark, why, Lor'bless you, sir!--"

  The old man broke off abruptly as a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder.

  "Od's life!" exclaimed the hearty voice of Sir Francis Drake. "So 'tisthy very self, Jacob? Faith, thou'rt passing nimble on thy feet, for allthy gray hairs. And how fares it with thee, old shipmate? Hast broughtthy fortune home with thee?"

  "Fortune, Captain Drake?" returned Hartop, grasping the knight'sproffered hand; "Lor' bless you, sir, I'd none to bring saving only ahandful of precious stones that were stolen from me within an hour'stime of my landing. No, the great fortune that you wot of, and the_Golden Galleon_ that carried it, now lie at the bottom of the sea--awealthy treasure-house that hath claimed tribute from many a good shipthat you and I have known, Master Drake."

  Sir Francis nodded.

  "True, Jacob, true," said he with a sad smile that seemed to betoken aworld of melancholy memories, "and the last long home of many a goodlyman of Devon that hath been our shipmates! Ay, man, and thou hast lostit, eh? Why, 'twould have made thee one of the wealthiest men in allEngland had it been brought home here to Plymouth. But I had e'enguessed that some such dire misfortune had befallen thee when I heardthat thou hadst come hither aboard this worm-eaten old craft, the_Pearl_; for well did I know that friend Hartop must surely have beenput to the hardest of shifts ere he would consent to sail i' the samevessel as Master Jasper Oglander. And, touching that matter, Jacob, howcame it I pray you, that Jasper got possession of any ship of Sir WalterRaleigh's?"

  "He had chartered her for the homeward voyage," answered Hartop, "andspent his last groat in victualling her. Master John Evans was ourcaptain, the command falling to him on the death of your old friend,Will Marsden."

  "'Tis a fact, then, that Will is dead?" cried Drake in a tone ofsurprised inquiry, as he gazed across the harbour. Then lowering hisvoice and touching Jacob on the shoulder he added: "Prithee, Jacob,answer me this--had he you wot of aught to do with Will's death?"

  "Hush!" cautioned Hartop, suddenly gripping Drake's arm. "Here comethJasper himself!"

  Timothy moved aside while Jasper Oglander strode along the causeway withsilent tread, his eyes bent on the ground as if he were absorbed in someimportant business that required his deepest thought. As he passed nigh,however, he raised his eyes and looked out from under his wide sombrerohat full into Drake's face. His own face became very red, all except thescar on his cheek, which remained of a dead white colour. He quicklyaverted his gaze and passed on without a word, hastening his stepssomewhat.

  Sir Francis Drake and Jacob Hartop exchanged meaning glances.

  "You see he doth still bear the mark of the cut you gave him across hiscraven face," remarked Hartop as he watched Jasper crossing the muddystreet.

  A grim smile played for a moment upon Drake's handsome, ruddycountenance as he answered:

  "Ay, marry. And i' faith 'twas a pretty enough cut for him to rememberme by--eh, Jacob? I warrant me he ne'er looks in his looking-glasswithout minding of the occasion of it. And yet methinks I might wellhave dealt him a severer blow without blame, for he had surely done forme outright had you not so timely warned me of his evil purpose. Dostremember, Jacob, how he came stealing aft to my cabin, with themoonlight glinting on his naked rapier--how he silently pushed open thedoor, and then, believing me to be slumbering, prepared to do his work?"

  "Right well do I mind it," returned Hartop with a grave shake of thehead. "And greatly have I marvelled ever since how it came that you lethim off so easily. Any man less forgiving than yourself would assuredlyhave had him slung up to the yard's-arm for attempting so foul a deed."

  Timothy overheard this part of the conversation, but, not wishing toseem to take interest in other people's affairs, he strode a few stepsaway and stood at the edge of the quay looking down upon the untidy andnow deserted deck of the _Pearl_. But what he had heard had neverthelessgiven him occasion for reflection.

  "So 'twas a falsehood he told when he
declared to my father yesterdaythat the wound was made by an Indian's arrow," he said to himself as heleaned against the granite pillar round which one of the ship's thickropes was bound. "I might even have guessed as much, for the cut is notone such as any arrow could make. Certes, I wonder what Master Gilbertwill think of his uncle when he doth learn what manner of man he trulyis! Methinks I was not so far in error, after all, when I said that Idistrusted him, although 'twas no more than mere instinct that gave methat feeling concerning him. But I now have warrant for my opinion, inall conscience, and if I make not a huge mistake, some grave troublewill ere long spring out of his coming to Modbury Manor; for it seemeththat he doth intend to take up his residence in my lord's family. Ay,faith, and a mighty pretty gentleman he is to be counted one of so nobleand honourable a household!"

  Timothy's anxiety grew deeper and deeper as he continued to review thesituation. It was not the mere discovery that Jasper Oglander wasuntruthful which disturbed his peace of mind. It was not even thethought that there might, after all, be some reason in the accusationswhich Jacob Hartop had made against him in the earlier morning. It wasthe reflection that, as he had just now learned, this Jasper Oglanderhad once treacherously attempted to take the life of Sir Francis Drake.In common with all English boys at that time Timothy Trollope had aregard for the great seaman and warrior which amounted to reverentworship. Sir Francis Drake was to him the noblest hero in all theworld--a hero who could do no wrong, and who had won for England a glorythat could never die; and just in proportion as he honoured andreverenced Sir Francis, so did he now detest the man who, for whatsoevercause it may have been, had attempted that hero's life.

  Had Timothy been bold enough to follow Jasper Oglander instead ofwaiting as he now did upon the busy quay, he might have learnedsomething more of the man's treachery. But Jasper was not the man toallow himself to be caught unawares, or to afford any stranger theslightest chance of prying into the secret matters that he had atpresent in hand. Having crossed the street, he walked on for a few yardslooking unconcernedly about him, and then turned in at the frontporchway of the Three Flagons.

  Passing through the little parlour of the hostelry, where some seamenand merchants sat before the fire gossiping and drinking, he mounted thenarrow dark stairs, and, arriving at the second landing, pushed open acreaking door at the end of the corridor. The room that he entered was asmall, plainly-furnished apartment, in the front gable of the house,whose side walls sloped upward at a sharp angle, meeting above. Acharcoal fire burned in a brazier in one of the corners, and near it onthe floor a youth lay sound asleep. Jasper went up to him, listened tohis breathing for a few moments, and then strode to the little casementwindow and looked down upon the quay where Drake and Hartop still stoodtalking together. He watched them until they parted, and when TimothyTrollope and Hartop had gone their way to the courthouse be glanced oncemore at his sleeping companion, drew a chair to the little centre table,and sat down with his elbow on the table and his head resting on hishand. Thus he remained for many minutes, ruminating.

  "And yet, what should it matter to me whom the old man hath speechwith?" he presently murmured, as if arguing with himself. "He can tellnaught Honest clown that he is, he had not so much as looked at theletter, for the seal was unbroken. He can, therefore, know naught of itspurport. I warrant me Will Marsden was too cautious a man to venture toimpart his knowledge by word of mouth, and if old Hartop doth not know,no man else can know. There cannot be a person in England, saving onlymyself, who doth even suspect aught of His Spanish Majesty's designs.The treasure will be brought safely over to Spain, and then with a newarmada well equipped we may snap our fingers at England's Drakes andHowards and her much-vaunted strength upon the seas. As for ElisabethTudor--we'll burn her at the stake, and a fitting end for the hereticJezebel, say I!"

  He thrust his hand into the breast of his doublet and drew forth first alittle canvas bag, which he laid before him on the table, and then asoiled and crumpled sheet of paper, that was folded and refolded into asmall parcel of the size of his own hand. This last he opened out infront of him. It was closely covered with writing. He glanced down thepage, his eyes following his finger from line to line until he came to alittle below the middle, and here he paused.

  "Ay, by my faith, considering thou wert but a poor untutored mariner,thou hast put the matter exceeding well, Master Will," he mutteredadmiringly. "As for thy good counsel, 'twere wiser than most seamencould give. But 'tis useless now, seeing that Sir Walter Raleigh, forwhom thou didst intend it, can neither receive it nor profit by it."

  He stopped and shot a glance in the direction of the man lying beforethe fire.

  "Art sleeping, Andrea?" he questioned in a low voice. But a deep-drawnbreath was the only answer, and he again went on silently reading.

  When he had got to the end of the paper he took it in his fingers anddeliberately tore it into small shreds. He silently carried thefragments to the fire and cast them upon it, going down on his knees andblowing the charcoal into a glow until the paper caught alight and wasconsumed. Then, returning to the table he took up the little canvas bag,loosened its strings and poured its contents into the palm of his hand.Glistening gems they were--emeralds that were clear and green as acurling ocean wave pierced by a shaft of sunlight; sapphires that wereblue as a Pacific sea that reflects the azure sky; rubies that were asdrops of crimson blood; together with many beauteous pearls and otherprecious stones, wonderful to behold. He counted them all one by one,made a mental estimate of their value, and then, smiling withsatisfaction, returned them to the bag, which he carefully tied up andas carefully hid away in the breast of his doublet.

  Having done this he stepped towards the youth near the fire, and,bending down, prodded him with his finger.

  "Andrea!" he said. "Andrea! Come, wake up!"

  Andrea turned over, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, and presentlyrose to his feet.

  "Sancta Maria!" he muttered, "what a dream I have had! Methought I wasengaged in a deadly duel, and that mine adversary had run me through!"

  "Doubtless 'tis the recollection of your struggle with old Hartop,"remarked Jasper, speaking, as the youth had done, in the Spanish tongue."But come, what of the errand I sent you out upon two hours ago? Didstdiscover aught of our friends?"

  "That I did," replied Andrea, "and more easily than I had expected.'Twas my father's friend, Don Miguel Fernandes that I met. He hath beena prisoner here in this town for the past two years, with his companionsto the number of five-and-twenty. Some of the less important of them areconfined in a strong-built house in the centre of the town, and areunder the charge of one Master Richard Drake--a kinsman of the greatDragon. But some half-dozen Castilian gentlemen--survivors of theArmada,--who were shipwrecked in Ireland, are of the number, and these,it seemeth, are permitted to go abroad for six hours every day, havinggiven their parole."

  "And who are these same gentlemen? What are their names?" inquiredJasper. And when Andrea had named them he said: "A goodly company! Bythe mass, a most noble company! Assuredly Spain can ill afford to letthem languish here when they might so easily be at home working for HisMost Christian Majesty and our Holy Mother church!" He touched theyouth's shoulder and added with grave earnestness: "Look you, Andrea,these gentlemen must escape from England, and that speedily, for thereis no time to be lost."

  Andrea looked up surprised and eager.

  "Escape!" he repeated. "Ah! but how, senor, how?"

  "Nay, I know not how," answered Jasper with a shrug, "but 'tis surelypossible. I only marvel how it happens that they have not themselvescontrived it long since."

  "Ay, but they have given their word of honour," returned Andrea; "andthou knowest as well as I that a Spanish gentleman cannot break hisword."

  "Pooh!" cried Jasper. "'Tis no breach of honour to break one's word toheretics! But leave the matter to me, and, by our Lady, I'll contriveit, in spite of Drake and all of them." He broke off and glanced towardsthe door, which had been opened. A young neg
ro woman stood upon thethreshold. "What want you, Catalina?" he demanded.

  She answered him in halting Spanish, saying that the senora her mistresshad heard his voice, and had sent her in to ask him if it was his wishthat she should make herself ready for the journey to Modbury.

  "Tell the senora that we start in half an hour's time," said he; andthen he turned to Andrea to further discuss the matter of the Spanishprisoners of war.