“My faith!” said John, speaking aloud to hearten himself, whilst he drew his waistband tighter. “If the good dame knows aught of the craving of my stomach she will surely hasten her ministrations. Would I had saved my shoes or e’en my swordbelt! Leather, though not o’er palatable I ween, will, so I have read, keep life in one’s body for a spell but one can scarce eat fustian.” Here John’s soliloquy was suddenly interrupted as he tripped over an object lying in his path. As he lay upon the ground he heard some animal scampering away in the darkness. “A goat!” said John, when he had recovered from his surprise. “Where there is one goat, there are two. And where there are two goats, there is a she-goat. And where there is a she-goat, there is milk. My lady,” he continued, rising and making a low bow, “your humble servant will do himself the honor of calling upon you as soon as decency and light permit.”
This incident cheered our hero as it relieved his mind of the chief anxiety that beset it. He had no wish to shirk the accidents and hardships of life; in fact, he rather enjoyed them, but the thought of death is naturally repugnant to a robust youth and especially to one full of ambition and love of action. He was always of a philosophic turn of mind, and as he reflected on the recent incident the significance of it caused him to smile.
“In the direst straits,” he thought, “the remedy is at our hand if we will but find it, though it be by falling over it. What babes we be! We cry though the pitcher but rock and we cry when the milk is spilt. Many a man dons mail when swaddling clothes would better befit him.”
With the first streak of dawn, John, now ravenously hungry, began to look around for the she-goat which he felt confident of finding with many companions on the islet. He had pursued this quest but a few minutes when his heart was delighted by the sight of a ship lying at anchor near this refuge. It had taken shelter behind the island from the storm of the day before and was now making preparations for departure, as John could see from where he stood. [He hastened down to the water’s edge and shouted lustily.] The wind was fortunately favorable and at length he attracted the attention of the people on board. A boat was lowered and our hero, with scarce strength enough to stand, soon found himself on the deck of a French merchantman. The master, perceiving his condition, had him taken below, where he was fed, dressed in dry clothes and left to sleep.
[HE HASTENED DOWN TO THE WATER’S EDGE AND SHOUTED LUSTILY]
When John awoke, refreshed after a long rest, the vessel was scudding along under a brisk breeze and the setting sun proclaimed the close of another day. Our hero went on deck, blithe and eager for what new adventures the strange whirligig of life might have in store for him. The captain, after the fashion of seamen, extended a hearty greeting and invited John to sup with him. Over the meal the young Englishman told his story. At its conclusion, Captain La Roche, for such was his name, rose and shook his guest warmly by the hand.
“Fortune has thrown you in my way,” said the captain, with a genial smile. “I am from St. Malo and Count Ployer is my dear friend and patron. For his sake I would do much for you, if your story and bearing had not drawn me to yourself. You shall be put ashore this night if that be your wish, but it would please me greatly should you decide to continue on the voyage with me. I am bound for Alexandria and thereafter may seek some profitable adventure. In the space of a few months I shall land you somewhere in Italy—with a fat purse, and I mistake not. What say you?”
John had always felt a strong desire for the life of the sea, and in those days the complete soldier was more than half a sailor. The experience would be profitable and, in any case, the proposition seemed to hold out a better prospect of eventually reaching Hungary than by starting penniless to walk across the Continent. Besides, if the truth be told, John’s recent term of tramping had more than satisfied him with that mode of travel for awhile. He accepted Captain La Roche’s offer without hesitation.
La Roche was the owner, as well as the master, of his vessel, which he called the Britaine, in honor of his native province. It was a heavily armed ship of two hundred tons burden, carrying a crew of sixty men. Such a number were not of course needed to manage a ship of that size. The excuse for their presence was found in the prevalence of piracy but, as we shall see, their duties were not entirely of a defensive character. The truth of the matter is that La Roche, like many another reputable ship-captain of his time, was himself more than half a pirate. His vessel was a combination of merchantman and privateer with authority to attack the ships of nations at war with his country. The condition was very laxly observed, however, and might, more often than political considerations, governed in such matters. When the relations of the powers to one another were constantly changing and a voyage frequently occupied a year, a captain’s safest course was to treat every foreign sail as an enemy and either to attack it or to run from it. With a valuable cargo such as La Roche had on this occasion, the master of a vessel would generally try to make a peaceful voyage to the port of destination. If a similar cargo could not be secured for the return voyage, he would try to compensate himself for the failure by taking a prize.