In furthest Ind

by Sydney C. Grier

Now almost before all this was done, we saw the Dutch ship boarded that lay next us, and her crew mustered and questioned, but finding nothing on board of her, they came on to us. And mounting the side, I trembled greatly when I saw them, for beside the captain of the port, in all his armour and feathers, there was there the alcaide of the Inquisition and one of his fellows, wearing those ghostly black gowns and hoods I have before mentioned. Now when these stood on the deck, and we were called to muster before them, my heart failed me, so that I stood looking upon them from the shelter of the galley, a dish-clout in my hand, and unable to move through fear. Then our good captain, seeing me thus astounded, did send a seaman for to fetch me forth, and finding me still gazing upon the visitors, gave me a blow on the head that sent me reeling, and bade me leave staring at the gentlemen, and go back to my work when I had answered to my name. And at this the Portugals laughed mightily, and counselled him to get a better apprentice, and so read out the names of the men, that all answered in their turn, and allowed us to depart. And after this great escape I thanked God, and wondered what could now hurt me, since I was delivered from so pressing danger. Truly (says I to myself), if I have the like good fortune in my adventures in the time to come, not Ferdinando Mendez Pinto himself will near match my traveller’s tales.

And all being now ready, we weighed our anchor, and the Boscobel stood down the river. Now when we come abreast of the fort that is called Marmagoun, and again of those four forts that guard the mouth of the river, my heart was in my mouth for fear, for (thought I), what if they have discovered our trick, and should be preparing to sink us with their cannons? But by good fortune, no such evil hap befell us, though I saw the captain look pale and fearful so long as we were under the guns of the forts. But when we were once gat past ’em, and steering for the south upon a favouring breeze, his countenance waxed cheerful once more, and he whistled lustily while he tramped to and fro upon the deck. Then coming to me, who was gazing with a joy and gratitude I had little thought ever to have the chance to feel, upon the disappearing of the stately towers and marble palaces of that most wicked and cruel city, he bade me lay aside that disguise I wore, and dress myself more seemly in such clothes as he should lend me. And this I did the more gladly that the seaman’s clothes I wore were not at all to my liking neither for appearance nor yet for comfort. And having put on a spare suit of the good skipper’s, I walked up and down upon the deck with him, and as we walked I asked of him whether he had heard aught touching my father since my starting for Goa, or no.

“Why,” says he in answer, “I ha’ heard something, but not much. For Mr Martin told me, one day when as he and I was speaking together concerning you, that he had wrote to Sir Harry Carlyon telling him of the misfortune that had overtook his son, and reminding him that ’twas possible he might never see you more, but there come such an answer as surprised him.”

“And pray, what was that?” says I.

“Why, sir, ’twas to say that the good gentleman knew that his son was engaged as he had bid him, and doing his best to fulfil the plan he had set before him, and that he should therefore come to no harm, nor would Sir Harry believe the same of him until he had spoke with one that had seen it.”

“Methinks there an’t many fathers that would speak thus,” said I, “and even with them, how seldom should their confidence in God be thus signally justified!”

“Ay,” says Captain Freeman, “ ’twas a narrow escape, Master Ned, and not even your good father’s trust in the integrity of your cause should maybe have availed to uphold him had he known how little was between you and death.”

“Tell me,” says I, “how you compassed my deliverance, for I know nothing but that ’twas done by means of the warning of Father Theodorus.”

“Why,” says he, “having heard him speak, we come back to the ship in great grief and heaviness, for no man could think to devise any plan for the saving you, save that the boatswain, that was over deep in his liquor, would fain have had us storm the Holy House and release all the prisoners there, and not you only. But the rest, of their own selves, saw that this was beyond our powers, and could only lead to our destruction as well as yours. Then as we went down to the ship, there fell in with us an Englishman, that is brother to my mate, and clerk to a trader in Goa, one that hath journeyed through all the Portuguese Indies, and seen many marvellous things. And chiefly he spake to us touching the Morattys, how prodigious fierce they are, and how warlike, and that the Portugals and their Indians here do fear ’em as the very devil, so that ’tis said the shadow of one Moratty will put to flight three Portugals. Likewise he told us that one of their captains was took prisoner a month ago and brought into Goa, and that their king, Seva Gi, as they call him, had sworn that he would take the Viceroy himself and hold him to ransom if so be as this his servant wan’t given up to him unharmed. And he said moreover that the Indians was saying that they had seen the spies of the Morattys creeping round about the city o’ nights more than once of late, but no credence was given to ’em, these Indians being timid and fearful in their minds. Now all this gave to us much food for thought, and so back to the ship, where we spent full half the night in making out our plan. And in the morning, having consented together upon what we should do, we left only some three or four men with the ship, and went upon our appointed ways. For I, with all the stoutest of the seamen, went to the burning-place, and there set ourselves in array, or as I might say, in ambush, close to that stake the priest had told us was yours, and waited there until the procession was arrived. But the mate, with four or five of the seamen, went and hired certain lads and men of the baser sort, such as would stick at nothing that was to earn ’em money, and ask no questions withal. And going outside the city with these, and waiting until the time was come for the burning, he bid ’em do even as he did, and rushed from the plantations into the road, crying, ‘Seva Gi! Seva Gi and the Morattys!’ Which when the multitude heard, that was come in for to see the sight, they were seized with fear, and rushed the other way into the town, crying out that the Morattys were coming. And thus, what with the men the mate had with him, and those he hired, and the crowd all crying out at once, the alarm was well spread, and you know how that in the panic terror and confusion we brought you away.”

“But what of the Morattys?” I asked.