Read Ebook: The First of the English: A Novel by Gunter Archibald Clavering

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Ebook has 2518 lines and 95503 words, and 51 pages

"A Spanish pleasure galley or State barge, judgin' by the fol-de-rols and awnings."

"Who are on board her?"

"Rowers, who are begging for their lives, and two or three women, all of 'em fainted but one. There was an Italian, Spaniard or something, but Duyvel and his band when they captured the boat tied a rope round him, threw him overboard and towed him, and I guess he's drowned by this time."

"Very well, pull the Italian up and bring him on board. Also send Dirk to me."

A minute later a stalwart-looking Dutch sea-dog comes over the side, stamping his heavy boots and uttering a curse with every stamp.

"Come here, Dirk, what are you growling about?" laughs the young captain.

"What am I growling about? Donder en Bliksem! I'm growling about YOU! What have you come between me and my prize for? Who are you, anyway?"

"You don't recognize me, Dirk? Come this way."

The captain throws open the door of his cabin and motions the Dutch seaman in. There is a flickering candle or two and a swinging lamp hanging from the skylight transom that give a subdued and melancholy glow to the scene, though the darkness of the night has been so intense that both the Dutchman and Englishman blink their eyes as they enter.

A second later Dirk cries: "Bij den hemel! I didn't recognize the voice. It's Captain Chester, the First of the English!"

On recognizing the Saxon the face of Dirk Duyvel assumes a sleepy smile, though he mutters savagely: "Captain Chester, your act is not the act of a Beggar of the Sea."

"It's a curious emblem for an English subject to wear," continues Guy, "but since I joined and became one of you, for the purposes of the one who--who sent me here," he hesitates a little over his words, "I have acted to you as a brother Gueux, and abided by the principles of the Beggars of the Sea--if they have any. Have they, Dirk?" he jeers. "Answer me, you sea robber. Didn't you steal your own brother's vessel last year?"

"Well, there's two sides to that story, captain," guffaws the Dutchman. Then he goes on anxiously: "But you're not going to steal my prize?"

"No, only to help you take care of it. And you need my aid to-night; for in this wind, without me, you would never get back to your vessels. Where are they?"

"About four miles down the East Schelde, round the point."

"Then your boat would never make them. You would be blown into Sandvliet or past the forts and into Alva's grip, unless you landed on a dyke and took the chance of being shot off-hand by his Spanish mercenaries. You couldn't anchor your boats here, they'd be swamped; without the lee of my vessel you would be in the arms of the mermaids in ten minutes, or in Alva's hands in two hours. Which would be worst?"

"I think Alva would be worstest for me and for you! He hates the 'First of the English' more as even he does us rebels," grins the Dutchman. He shivers though, at that name, dreaded by every Netherlander, and more than all by those he had made outlaws, and forced for very livelihood to become, under the name of Gueux , half way pirates and robbers, though still apostles of freedom under William of Orange.

"Now, what have you captured? Tell me all about it," breaks in the Englishman, who has bright, flashing steel blue eyes and dancing, gallant, wavy chestnut hair, in strong contrast to the Hollander, who has a quiet, sleepy, soft countenance, embellished with a contented grin--one Dirk Duyvel never changed, whether saying his prayers, looting a ship, or cutting a Spaniard's throat.

"Well, we drifted down here," he answers. "The gale wasn't as high then, or we wouldn't have come. We saw a dyke burst down this side of Sandvliet and went over to take charge of the farmers' goods, so if they came to life again we might return em. While doing this we saw a barge put off from a pleasure house that was being washed out, and it looked as if there might be plunder aboard. Well, we followed it. It was trying to get into the river to go to Antwerp, but we shot the sailors, and had just captured the boat and thrown an Italian overboard and were looking for plunder, and finding none, except the women, three of whom fainted when I talked to 'em and told what we were going to do with 'em, when you came alongside; and before I knew it I was down with two of your swash-bucklers on top of me with daggers at my throat, making remarks about my life."

This dissertation is here interrupted by the entry of the boatswain, who touches his cap and deposits an inanimate and drowned form upon the cabin locker, remarking sententiously: "The Italian's come aboard, captain."

"Let's see if we can get life into him."

But after a short examination Chester makes the sign of the cross and whispers: "He's past revival. All the leeches, surgeons and blood-letters on earth couldn't make his heart beat again," placing his hand upon the man's bosom.

Even as he says this he suddenly starts and exclaims: "There's something in the breast of his coat; something sewn in."

"Duivelsch! Is it money he's got in his jacket?" screams the Dutch freebooter; then he continues sorrowfully: "And to think that we missed it when we searched his pockets before we threw him overboard. Is it money? If it is, it's MY money."

"It isn't money, its papers," remarks Chester, cutting away the Italian's doublet and pulling out a packet carefully wrapped in oiled silk.

"Then if it's only papers, you can have them," observes the Netherland Beggar of the Sea generously. The Englishman is examining the documents that are disclosed to him.

A moment more of perusal and Guy appears surprised; then deeply impressed, mutters to himself: "I wonder--can it be?--I can't make out the accursed Spanish cipher."

Two minutes more of anxious inspection and a sudden flash comes in his eyes.

He turns to Dirk Duyvel and says shortly: "How much do you want for your capture? All of it! You have given me the papers, now what do you want for the boat?"

"The boat's a fine boat!"

"But it's no use to you!"

"And then there's the three women. I might get a ransom for them."

"From whom?"

"From their fathers or brothers or lovers; they wouldn't like to know that they were carried off by the Beggars of the Sea, the champions of freedom," says Duyvel with a hideous chuckle, "and one of 'em is very beautiful."

"Humph! how could you see this dark night?"

"I couldn't see, I heard. Her voice is as sweet as the softest stop in the grand organ at Amsterdam, the one they call the 'angel's voice.'"

"What do you want for the whole lot?" asks the Englishman, trying to appear indifferent, and attempting the tone of a man making a bargain at a haberdasher's.

"A thousand crowns."

"Three hundred," answers Chester, shortly.

"Five hundred crowns, anyway."

"Three hundred in silver," and the young captain opens a locker in his cabin and produces a bag of carolus guilders. "Better take this in hand," he says, "than bargain on the shore, with the chance of being captured and strung up. Three hundred for the whole lot, women, boat, everything, and I take the goods off your hands!"

"What do you want to do with them?"

"That's my business," says the Englishman, looking once more over the papers he has taken from the dead Spaniard or Italian, for the dress and appearance of the dead man indicates that he is such. "And I'll tell you what I'll do," continues Guy, "if this matter turns out as it may, I'll make it two hundred more on my next return from England."

"Well, the plunder is yours, only count the money down."

This is soon done, Chester writing a receipt and quittance for the same, which the Dutchman signs. A moment later Captain Guy remarking carelessly: "Duyvel, you had better lie by us in your boat till morning, or you will never outlive this storm," steps on deck, and taking his first officer aside, says shortly: "You will take command of this vessel, Lieutenant Dalton, until my return."

"You are going to leave the ship to-night?"

"Yes, some information that I have just received makes it necessary that I go to Antwerp to-night."

"To Antwerp! Into Alva's clutches; INTO HIS VERY JAWS?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"In that Spanish barge lying beside us."

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