Prince Rupert, the Buccaneer

by Charles John Cutcliffe Wright Hyne

"Arnidieu," swore Rupert, "I should know you who spoke then."

"'Appen," said the man, who was at the oar nearest the poop, "I've met a sight o' folk i' my time."

"But you should remember one whom you chose to be your matelot, your camerade on the seas, who was to go a-buccaneering afloat whilst you bucanned meat in Hispaniola. Your voice, sir, tells me that you are Master Simpson."

"Aye, I'm Simpson. And so you're——"

"Hush, sir, please. It is my vanity, sir, to keep my name hid whilst I am in this position. But it grieves me to see you in similar plight."

But here speech was cut off. Once more the boatswain came down on to the gang-plank, boiling with anger at all this talk in defiance of discipline, and cutting right and left with his whip on the shoulders of the slaves. Simpson came in for a share, and cursed him lustily for the gift, but the Prince he affected not to have caught. Truly it would have taken a braver man than a galley's boatswain to flog Rupert Palatine.

Nothing but constant thonging with that whip kept most of the slaves at their work. The galley laboured heavily in the sea, rolling her outrigged thole-pins under at every lurch, and sea-sickness groaned from all her benches. The reek of her poisoned the gale. The groans from her might have alarmed heaven. And if a ship of the buccaneers had appeared then, her military manning would have surrendered through sheer misery.

But as it was she rode out the night unmolested, and when morning broke, wild and grey, there were Wick's ships tossing on a far horizon.

Now beating has its limits, and even the arm of a Spanish boatswain may grow weary after a long night of unbroken flogging. Moreover the other galleys had both dropped astern, and lay without weigh with their oars a-cock. So once more the timekeeper gave the three sharp blows with the gavel which meant a halt, and the slaves thankfully drew in the oars, and thrust the looms underneath the gangway. A ration was served out, but for the most part they were too bone-weary to eat, and dropped incontinently off into slumber. The Prince, however, mastered his meal as before, and the secretary, mindful of his order, made shift to do the same, though indeed her hands were so raw with the rub of the oar, that each morsel was seasoned with her own blood.

For three hours the rest endured, and the sun got up and beat heavily on all the galley held, and then once more the timekeeper beat with his gavel. The other galleys came up and formed into line, sawing over the swells. The whole fleet set off together. They were going out to the attack.