Later, he had come over to Ireland under Sir Henry Sydney, who esteemed him so highly, owing to the manner in which he had fought against the O’Neils of Ulster, that, when Sir Henry was Lord Deputy of Ireland for the first time, he had advanced him from post to post, until he was now Governor, or “Colonel of Connaught,” as his title was.
One thing we had heard, and that was, like all the rest of the English, he was very greedy for money, and that his ears readily listened to an argument that was backed up with gold. Therefore had we brought with us rich presents for the Governor, which were duly delivered to him when dinner was finished.
Such, then, was Sir Nicholas Malby, upon whom the fortunes of my mistress so much depended. I perceived that she was studying him with no less intentness than myself, but that she hid this under a gay and sparkling demeanour.
When the meal was over, Sir Nicholas said that he desired to talk with her alone, and they withdrew together to another room. Whereupon Sir Murrough O’Flaherty and the other gentlemen of the Irish, gathered around me, plying me with many questions, to all of which I returned evasive replies, feeling in truth exceedingly anxious, and wishing nothing so much as to be on board my galley again with my mistresses safe in theirs. Nor did I have an opportunity—as I desired—to speak privately to Richard Burke.
It was about the middle of the afternoon when Grace O’Malley sent for me and presented me to Sir Nicholas, telling him that I was her foster-brother, and that I was pledged to her service. The Governor scanned me narrowly up and down, then suddenly put forth his hand and grasped mine with a grip of steel. I fancied, and herein I was right, as events subsequently proved, that he had something of the same feeling in regard to me as that I had experienced for himself.
“I have but one desire,” said he, when he had talked for some time, “and that is, the establishment of the Queen’s peace in Connaught.” And he laid his hand heavily on my own. I bowed, but answered not, thinking in my mind that silence was best, for what had we to do with the Queen’s peace; we, who were the free rovers of the sea?
Then it appeared that Grace O’Malley had been asked by the Mayor to be his guest for awhile, and that she had accepted his invitation. So I now learned that my mistresses were not to return to the ships at once, but were to take up their abode in the mansion of the Lynches along with the Governor.
I was none too well pleased with this arrangement, remembering the message of the arrow, but dissembled my fears and suspicions, particularly when I was informed that no objection was made to her keeping her guard. I further gathered from her air that she was not ill-content with the result of her interview with Sir Nicholas, and that all seemed to be going as she wished.
Anon the Mayor entered, bringing with him his daughter Sabina, a dark, handsome woman of twenty summers, who was to be the hostess of my mistresses, for her mother was dead. And with her in this fair seeming entered also the shadow of Destiny—a shadow not to be lifted for many a day.
It was never given to me to read the hearts of women, nor to comprehend their ways, but, being but a man, I looked upon this woman with pleasure, little dreaming what evil she was to work upon us. Here was one, had I but known it, far more to be feared than the bluff, determined soldier who was Colonel of Connaught.