Across the Salt Seas: A Romance of the War of Succession

by John Bloundelle-Burton

CHAPTER X.

SENOR JUAN BELMONTE.

And now I made my way below by the main hatch--for the after-companion was all burnt, so that there was no descent by that, I being intent on the men finding out--and setting to work at once on getting at and landing--the specie there might be in the ship; for, although the galleons were ours now, and 'twas a certainty that neither French nor Spaniards could make any attempt whatsoever to recover possession of them, there was another matter to be thought about, namely, that this one, of which I was, so to speak, in chief command, might be so badly injured that she might sink at any moment; and, if she did that, then it would be goodbye to any bars of silver and gold, pistoles or crusadoes which she might have stowed away in her, ready for the Castile mint. And with this apprehension in my mind, I decided that the unloading must at once begin.

But as I came down the main companion it was apparent that I must make my way aft through the great cabin, since my men were all at work in the hinder part of the ship; and, consequently, I put my hand to the cabin door to open it, when I discovered that it was closed--shut fast. Yet, even as I perceived this, while still I moved the catch about between my fingers, wondering what I should do, and whether I must not go back and fetch some of the sailors up from the after part to burst open the door, I heard a footstep, light, yet firm, tapping on the cabin deck; a footstep that, I could very well perceive, was coming toward the closed door; and then, a moment later, I heard a voice on the other side say something in Spanish, of which I could not catch one word; yet I doubted not that a question had been asked as to who I was, and what I wanted.

Remembering, however, that I stood here in the position of a captor, remembering, too, that since all these Spanish galleons had been under the protection of the French admiral (with also three Spanish ships of war, though 'tis true they did not count for much), I replied in the French language, which, as I have before said, I had very well:

"I am an officer from the English fleet, and am now in charge of this vessel. Open the door without delay."

"Are you an English officer?" the voice now said, in my own tongue, to which I--thinking that the tones were soft, gracious ones enough--replied:

"I am an English officer. Open the door at once."

Then I heard the bolt shot back, and entered the great cabin.

What kind of personage I had expected to find behind that door I scarcely now can say--though I do remember well enough that, judging by the gentle, musical voice which had replied to my summons, I should not have been over-surprised to find myself face to face with some Spanish woman--yet the person who appeared before me raised my curiosity when we now stood face to face, for, certainly, I had expected some one vastly different from him on whom I now gazed--perhaps a Spanish sailor; a woman, as I have mentioned, or some old don who had managed to get left behind when all the rest had fled.

Yet I saw none of these.

Instead, a youth, somewhat tall--I remember that his eyes were almost on a level with mine, and I am tall myself--also extremely handsome, while, to add to that handsomeness, his dress was rich, if not costly. But first for his appearance.

Those eyes were soft, dark ones, such as, I think, our poets call "liquid," and they looked out at me from an oval face, dark and olive in complexion, over which the black hair curled in mighty becoming waves, though it was not all visible, since on his head he wore a beaver cap, looped up at one side with a steel buckle, and with, in it, a deep crimson feather--a hat that added extremely to his boyish beauty. For that he was a boy of almost tender years was certain. Upon his upper lip there was that soft down which is not a moustache, but tells only where some day a moustache will be; his colouring, too--a deep, rich red beneath the olive skin--proclaimed extreme youthfulness. But, what was even more agreeable than all, was the bright, buoyant smile with which he looked at me--a smile which flashed from those dark, soft eyes and trembled on the full, red lips, yet seemed strangely out of place here in this captured vessel, and upon the face of a prisoner--for such, indeed, he was.

But now--even as we were saluting of each other, and while I noticed the easy grace with which this youth took off his beaver hat--I noticed also the handsome satin coat he wore, the embroidered, open-worked linen collar, and the pretty lace at his sleeves; perceived, also, that his breeches were lined with camlet and faced with white taffeta. I spoke to him, saying:

"Sir, I am afraid this is but a rough visit which I pay. Yet, since I find you aboard this galleon, you must know what brings me here; must know that it and all her consorts have fallen into our power--the power of England and Holland."

"In faith, I know it very well," the young man answered. "Heavens, what a cannonading you kept up! Yet--though perhaps you may deem me heartless if I say so!--I cannot aver that I am desperate sick at the knowledge that you have drubbed France and Spain this morning. Carámba! I am not too much in love with either, though you find me a passenger here."

"Monsieur is not then either French or Spanish?" I hazarded, while he unstrapped his blade from its porte-epée and flung it on the cabin locker as though it wearied him. "Perhaps English, to wit. And of the West Indies? A passenger taking this ship as a means whereby to reach his native land?"

He looked at me with those soft dark eyes--I know not even now why they brought up the thought of velvet to my mind--paused a moment then said:

"Monsieur, I do protest you are a wizard, a conjuror, a geomancer. In truth you have hit it. I am English, though not by birth--but subject to England."

"I should scarce have thought, indeed," I ventured to say, "that monsieur was of English blood."

"No?" with a slight intonation. "And why not? I flatter myself that I have the English very well."

"You have it perfectly," I replied, making a little bow, "but scarce the English look. Now a Spaniard--a Frenchman--I would have ventured to say, judging by your appearance, to----"

Again that merry laugh rang out, and again that handsome youth told me I must be a wizard. "For," said he, "you have pinked me in the very spot. My mother was a Spaniard--my father a Frenchman. And we have lived so long in Jamaica that I speak English like an Englishman: You see?"

Then almost before I could answer that I did see and understand, this handsome youth--who seemed as volatile as a butterfly!--began to sing softly to himself:

"And have you heard of a Spanish lady?
How she wooed an Englishman?
Garments gay and rich as may be,
Decked with jewels, had she on."

While at the same time he picked up an instrument which I learned later was known as a viol d'amore, and began to produce sweet sounds from it.

Now, this youth won so much upon me, what with his appearance--and already I found myself wondering what the ladies must think of him!--and his light, merry nature, that, had other things been different, I could very well have passed the whole day with him in this main cabin, only there was duty to be done. By now I knew that the men would most like have reached the bullion chests and be ready for getting them out; wherefore, the moment he ceased his song, I said as courteously as may be:

"I have to leave you now, sir--there is work to be done in this ship by nightfall. Yet, since you say you are a British subject, we must take some care of you. Will you come with me to see one of the admirals, who will dispose of you as best may be? If you seek to reach England, doubtless they can put you in the way--give you a passage--or what do you propose doing?"

For answer he shrugged his shoulders indifferently, then said:

"England is my destination--yet there is no pressing hurry. I am on my road to seek some friends there, but I mind not if I tarry a little. One of these friends--oh! a dear old creature, a Saint, I think--I have been bent on finding for some years now. And I shall find him. Then--but no matter! A few more weeks in comparison with those years matter but little. I shall find him. Oh, yes. I have no fear."

I, too, shrugged my shoulders now--for this was, after all, no answer to my question; then I said:

"But how will you proceed? You can scarce stay here--this galleon will probably be sunk by the admiral directly she is unloaded. What will you do?"

He shrugged his shoulders with a look of extreme indifference, muttering something in Spanish, which I thought might be a proverb; then said: "Indeed, sir, I do not know. But this admiral of yours, what will he do with me--where take me if I go with you? I thought to ship at one time from Cadiz to England; then, later, when I learned we were coming in here, I thought to travel by land to some near port and find a vessel for the same place. Now I know not what to do."

Neither did I know what to suggest that he should do, except that I told him it was very certain he must see the admiral, who, without any doubt, I thought, would find him an opportunity of reaching England--would probably take him with the fleet.

"And," I went on, "this should be of some service to you, in the way of money, at least. 'Twill be a good thing for you to be put on English ground at no cost to yourself. Also, you may have goods or specie in this ship, which can be saved for you. And then, too, you will be near those friends you speak of--that one, especially, who is a Saint--who will doubtless help and assist you."

Again I saw the bright, luminous smile come upon his features, as he answered:

"Ay! he would assist me, no doubt. Oh! yes. Mon Dieu! Yes! Beyond all doubt. And he will be so glad to see me. We have not met for some time. But, sir, I thank you very much for your concern about me. Only, as far as money goes, I am not needy. I have bills about me now, drawn on the old Bank of Castile, and also on some goldsmiths of London, as well as some gold pieces in my pocket. While as for the goods or specie you speak of--why, never fear! Neither this galleon nor any other has a pistole's worth of aught that belongs to me on board--the risk was too great with the seas swarming with English ships of war. No, sir, beyond the box which contains my necessaries, I stand to lose nothing."

"I rejoice to hear it," I said, "though doubtless, since you are a British subject, all that belonged to you would have been sacred. Yet, even as 'tis, 'tis better so." Then, seeing the bo'sun at the cabin door, pulling his long matted hair by form of salute, and, doubtless, wondering what kept me so long away from him and his men, I said: "Now I must leave you for a time. Yet it will not be long. I trust you have all you require to sustain you until we reach the ship I am attached to."

But even as I spoke, and without listening much to his answer, which was to the effect that a good meal had been eaten that morning before the battle began, and that, if necessary, he knew very well where to lay his hands on some food, a thought struck me which I wondered had not occurred to me before during my interview with him. Therefore, turning to him, I said:

"But how comes it that I find you here alone--or all alone but for the reverend monk whom I saw above? How is it that you and he did not desert the ship as the others must have done?"

"Oh! as for that," he replied, still with that sweet smile of his, and still with that bright, careless air which he had worn all through, and which caused him to appear superior to any of the melancholy as well as uncomfortable circumstances by which he was surrounded, "as for that, the explanation is simple enough." Then, speaking rapidly now, he went on:

"We saw your great ships break the boom; ha! por Diôs, 'twas grand, splendid. We saw your ships range themselves alongside the Frenchmen, saw them crash into them their balls, set them afire, destroy them. Espléndido! Espléndido! Espléndido!" he exclaimed, bursting into the Spanish in his excitement. "Poof! away went the Bourbon, topping over on her side, up went the fireship--we heard your shouts and cries, heard the great English seamen singing their songs. I tell you it was glorious. Magnifico! Only--these creatures here--the canailles--these desperdicios--these--Diôs! I know not the word in English--thought not so. 'Great God!' screamed Don Trebuzia de Vera, our captain--a miserable pig, a coward. 'Great God, they win again, these English dogs; curse them! they never lose, we are lost! lost! lost! And see,' he bellowed, 'the French admiral lands, he flees, deserts his ship, ha! sets it afire. Flee we, too, therefore. Flee! Away! To the boats, to the shore, to the mountains. Away! They come nearer. Away, all, or there will not be a whole throat amongst us.'"

"We knowed that was what would happen," chuckled the bo'sun, who still stood at the open door, his fierce face lit up with a huge grin of approval. "Go on, young sir. Tell us the tale."

And, scarce heeding him, the youth, who had recovered his breath, went on:

"They obeyed him--they fled. Into the water, up the rocks, off inland they went. They never cast a thought to us, to Padre Jaime and myself, the only two passengers in the ship. Not they--they cared no jot whether we were blown up, or shot, or sunk, no more than they thought of their ingots in the hold. Their wretched lives were all in all to them now."

"Therefore they fled and left you here!"

"They fled and left us here, setting fire first to the ship, and caring nothing if we were burnt in it or not. Though that could scarce have happened, I think, since it would have been easy enough for us to plunge into the water and get ashore. Also the reverend father above bade me take heart--though I needed no such counsel, having never lost mine--averred that your side had won, that the next thing would be the arrival of your boats to secure the plunder--which has fallen out as he said--and that then both he and I would be safe. Which also has come to pass," he concluded.

"The reverend father appears to be well versed in the arts of war, captures and so forth," I remarked, as now we made our way together to the waist of the ship, followed by the bo'sun. "A strange knowledge for one of his trade!"

"Por Diôs!" the young fellow said, "'tis not so strange, neither, as you will say if ever you get him to speak about the strange places in which he has pursued his ministrations. Why, sir, he has assisted at the death of many a dying sinner of the kind we have in our parts, held cups of water to their burning lips, wiped the sweat of death from off their brows. Oh!" he said, stopping by one of the galleon's great quarter deck ports, in which the cowards who fled from the heavily armed ship had left a huge loaded brass cannon run out, which they had not had the spirit to fire; stopping there and laying a long, slim hand upon my arm--while I noticed that the nails were most beautifully shaped--"Oh! he has been in some strange places; seen strange things, the siege and plunder of Maracaibo, to wit, and many other places; seen blood run like water."

"The siege and plunder of Maracaibo!" I found myself repeating as we drew near the fore-hatches, which were now open. "The siege and plunder of Maracaibo!" Where had I heard such words as these before, or words like them? Where? where? On whose lips had I last heard the name of Maracaibo?

And, suddenly, I remembered that that wicked old ruffian, who had been fellow-passenger with me in La Mouche Noire had mentioned that place to the filthy black who was his servant--or his friend.

And--for what reason I know not, for there was no sequence whatsoever in such thoughts and recollections--I recalled his drunken and frenzied shouts to some man whom he called Grandmont; his questions about some youth nineteen years old, who was like to be by now grown up to be a devil like that dead Grandmont to whom he imagined he was speaking.

Which was, if you come to think of it, a strange sort of recollection, or memory, to be evoked simply through my hearing again the name of that tropic town of Maracaibo mentioned by this handsome young man.