Lawrence Brindister visits the Spanish Ship—Don Hernan invited to the Castle—Surly Grind, Lawrence’s Dog.
The accounts which Don Hernan had received from various quarters while on shore at Lerwick about the inhabitants of Lunnasting Castle had excited his curiosity and interest to the highest pitch. Though fully intending to return shortly to Lerwick, he had an object in suddenly leaving Brassay Sound. He also wished to arrive unexpectedly in the neighbourhood of Lunnasting.
Rolf Morton came at his summons; and understanding the “Saint Cecilia” was shortly to return to Lerwick, not having reason to suspect fraud of any description, he, without hesitation, took the ship on to Eastling Sound. She had not been long at anchor before Lawrence Brindister—who, as was his custom, had been at an early hour of the morning out fishing—espied her, and very soon made his appearance on board. Lawrence walked about the deck admiring the guns and the carved and gilt work with which the ship was adorned; for it was the custom, especially in the Spanish navy, in those days to ornament ships of war far more profusely than at present. At length Don Hernan came on deck. He observed the skiff alongside; and his eye falling on Lawrence, he very naturally at first took him to be some poor fisherman habited in the cast-off finery of a gentleman. Lawrence, however, guessed who he was from his uniform, and, shuffling along the deck, made him one of his profoundest bows, which Don Hernan returned with one in the same style.
As it had not been, impressed on Lawrence’s mind that there existed numerous nations speaking different tongues, he at once addressed the Spanish captain in English.
“Your people, good sir, have been very silent: not one has spoken to me since I stepped on board this trim craft of yours; for you have, I conclude, the happiness of being her captain, and you have, I hope, a tongue with which to hold pleasant and profitable converse.”
“I command this ship, and I am able to converse in English,” answered Don Hernan, wondering who his strange visitor could be. “May I ask in return whom I have the honour of addressing?”
“No less a person than Lawrence Brindister, Lord of Lunnasting Castle and the lands adjacent,” answered Lawrence, drawing himself up—“that is to say, who would be, and should be, and ought to be, had not certain traitorous and vile persons, who shall be nameless, interfered with his just rights, and ousted him from his property. But say not a word about that, most noble stranger. ‘A guid time is coming—a guid time is coming.’ ‘The prince shall have his ain again!’”
Don Hernan at once perceived his visitor’s state of mind.
“I had thought that Sir Marcus Wardhill was Lord of Lunnasting, though I am aware that, from times immemorial, it has been held by Brindisters, of whom I conclude you are one,” remarked the captain.
“Ay, there’s the rub,” said Lawrence. “You see, most noble captain, I’ve a difficulty in steering my craft; I never can keep her in good trim. Sometimes she luffs up, and sometimes she falls off; so as to holding a steady course, I find that out of the question. Ah, now I know all about it. I have come, most noble captain, feeling assured that you are of gentle birth and a man of honour, to invite you and your officers to visit Lunnasting Castle. My cousin and I will do our best to receive you as becomes your rank.”