Obedient to his command, the men bent to their oars in sullen silence—a silence all too plainly born of fear—and we headed for the distant vessel—and a prison.
As the distance between the boat and the shore behind us gradually increased I took my last look of Cleeve. The evening was fast drawing on and already the cloud shadows lay in darkened patches upon the green slopes of Cleevesborough, though all around us the sea shimmered golden in the glory of the sinking sun. Behind us, the little group of figures upon the jetty still lingered, staring after us—the sorrel in their midst. And so still was the evening air that even at that distance their voices came plainly to my ears across the widening water. Away to the right, above the dark woods that crowned the rugged cliffs, I caught sight of the tall chimneys of the manor that had proved so sorry a grave to my ambitions. Bitter were my thoughts as I gazed upon it. A week ago had seen me in the plenitude of power—master of the manor and of all beneath its roof. Now I sat in the gathering night shadows—a helpless, dishonoured prisoner, every stroke of the oars speeding me nearer to France and to the galleys. And the cause of it all—a woman!
All this time the captain in the stern had not been silent—now cursing at the seamen for their tardiness, anon breaking out into snatches of the song I had before heard:
“And the black-eyed maids of Spain, my lads!
Oho! for the maids of Spain!”
Presently I turned my attention to the vessel we were rapidly approaching. Certainly the appearance of the captain and the crew were not prepossessing, and confirmed me in the opinion that she was a privateer,—most likely hailing from Bristol—one of those free lances of the ocean fitted out by wealthy Jacobites to assist the cause of James; but which—such was the unsettled state of the times—preyed upon all merchant shipping alike with strict impartiality.
The ship proved to be a larger craft upon nearer approach than I had first imagined. She lay motionless upon the water, stern on towards us, and her tapering spars and tracery of ropes stood darkly out against the evening sky. As we swept round to larboard, above the cabin window in her stern I saw her name, The Scourge. At the same time I caught sight of a score or more of villainous faces gazing at us from above the bulwarks of her low, black hull, from which, here and there, the frowning muzzles of her guns protruded. But small time had I for speculation upon her character, for no sooner were we alongside—and it was not without considerable difficulty that I gained the deck—than the captain turned fiercely upon the first of the two sailors who had followed us aboard.
“That for disobeying orders, you dog!” he cried, snatching a pistol from his belt and striking the fellow so shrewd a blow with the heavy butt that the rogue fell to the deck half stunned.
“Up with ye!” he added, bestowing a brutal kick upon the man’s prostrate body. “No skulking here while Barclay’s in command. Though, curse me! a more humane man than I never left Bristol port!”
More I was not permitted to see or hear, for at a word from the mate, a couple of the ruffians seized me, and forcing me down a narrow companion ladder aft, flung open a door at its foot and thrust me inside with unnecessary violence; and I heard the shooting of the heavy bolts behind them. At first, I could distinguish nothing of my surroundings, but after a few moments, when my eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, I made out that I was in a small cabin some seven feet square, destitute of all furniture, but with a narrow wooden locker at one end. Such light and air as there was—if light it could be called, which was at best but semi-darkness—came from a narrow slit, six inches high—not more, above the door. As for the heat of the place, ’twas stifling, for be it remembered it was now the very height of summer, and the little air there was below deck stole through the open companion way down which we had come. I raised my hand above me and found that I could touch with ease the massive timbers overhead. Being a tall man, as I have previously stated, I also found that with comparatively little difficulty I could raise my face to the level of the slit above the door. But there was little to reward my curiosity. I could see, indeed, the companion ladder without and a narrow passage to my left running into the gloom, which I conjectured to lead to the cabins astern, but that was all.