Grace O'Malley, Princess and Pirate

by Robert Machray

“That might well have been the case,” said I.

“They therefore confided to him—what he most likely knew already—that they had come over on a secret embassy from the King of Spain, and besought him, by his fidelity to his King, to put them ashore. He protested that their landing at the time would be attended with difficulty, and even danger, and again refused their request.

“They expostulated with him, but in vain; he was not to be moved, having already, they say, determined that they should never deliver their message. Next they offered him a large sum of money, and, when he asked where they were to get it from, told him of the gold, but without informing him of the amount they had in the chest. Still, he would not give way, and, at length, on their continuing to urge him, he became sullen, angry and abusive, hurling many hurtful words at them in his wrath. His real reason, they began to fear, was not the roughness of the sea, for some sheltered bay or inlet with calm water might have easily been reached, had he so desired, but that he had resolved to possess himself of their treasure.”

“They had played into his hands by speaking of the contents of the chest,” I said.

“That was their mistake, and they have had to repent themselves of it. That same night, while they slept, they were seized, put into manacles, and thrown into the close and filthy den in which they were discovered by us.

“They saw the captain but once after their imprisonment, and he had told them—for their comfort—that it had been his original intention to fling them overboard, but that he had changed his mind, and would deliver them up, instead, to the English Governor of Connaught, when the ship arrived at Galway, as plotters against the peace of Ireland. Then they never would be heard of again, for all men knew of what sort of stuff Sir Nicholas Malby was made, and how short and sharp were his dealings with those who conspired against the Queen, once they were in his power.”

This was an evil hearing in regard to one who in his dying had shown a not unmanly kind of virtue; but who is there that does not know that gold is for most men the god of the whole earth? The story of the two struck me as being true, as it was stamped through and through with a sort of human naturalness. And I said as much.

“When the captain told them,” continued Grace O’Malley, “of the fate in store for them, they offered him all the gold they had in the chest if only he would let them go. But he answered them that it was his already, and that he had no intention of parting with it. If they lived, he would never feel safe—and the dead had no tongue. Hearing this, they gave up all hope, and abandoned themselves to the gloom of despair, cursing the captain for his perfidy.

“Then the storm came on, and the galleon drove hither and thither with the tempest. Their wretchedness increased, until they reflected that it would be better to perish by drowning than to live to undergo the torture and miserable death which Sir Nicholas would be certain to inflict upon them.”