The younger was of a stronger build; his countenance exhibiting a bold and daring spirit, full of life and animation, and not wanting in good-humour.
“Whom seek you, young sirs?” asked the old seaman, as the youths drew near.
“One Captain Amyas Layton, an please you, sir,” answered the elder of the two. “We were told in Plymouth town, where we arrived last night on horseback from Dartmouth, that we should find his residence in this direction; and if I mistake not, we stand even now before him.”
“You are right in your conjectures, young sirs,” answered Captain Layton; “I am the man you seek, and whoever you are and whatever your object, believing it to be an honest one, I give you greeting. Enter, for after your walk this warm summer’s day you need rest and refreshment; the first you may take at once—the second you shall have as soon as my daughter Cicely returns from Plymouth, whither she has gone a-marketing, with our servant Barnaby, on our old nag Sampson, which I called after a Spanish carvel I sank out yonder—but of that anon. Come in.”
The captain, without waiting to make further inquiries of the strangers, led the way into the hall, where he bade them take their seats in two carved oak chairs on either side of the fireplace—albeit the warmth of the day permitted not a fire to be burning there. The young men, removing their beavers, obeyed him.
“Though more substantial fare be wanting, I can serve you with a stoup of Canary, young sirs; and your walk, judging by my own taste, will render such acceptable,” said the captain. Assuring him that they were in no way fatigued, they declined the wine on the plea of the early hour, and their not having been in the habit of drinking aught except a glass of ale at dinner or supper.
“A prudent custom for those not advanced in life,” he observed; “and now, young sirs, to what cause am I indebted for this visit?”
“We have a long story to narrate, kind sir,” answered the elder youth, “and we would first, tell you our names, and whence we come; which, in your hospitable kindness, you have not yet inquired. We are the sons of your old shipmate Captain Vaughan Audley, who, it has been supposed for the last ten years or more, perished among those who formed the first settlement in Virginia, planted by the brave Sir Walter Raleigh. For that long period our dear mother, notwithstanding the reports which reached her, has never altogether abandoned the hope that he might be alive; and though compelled to assume widow’s weeds, she has remained faithful to his memory and refused again to wed.”
“A true wife and honest woman, such as I delight to honour,” observed the captain; “but alack! I received too certain news of my old comrade’s death to make me doubt that he had passed away to that better land where we all hope to meet.”
“Truly, our mother, notwithstanding her expressions to the contrary, had begun to believe the same,” answered the young man; “when about ten days gone by, there came to the gate of our house near Dartmouth, where we have lived since our father’s departure, a seaman somewhat advanced in life, whose pallid face spoke of sickness, and his tattered garments of poverty long suffered. His name, he told us, was Richard Batten. He had wandered, he said, over all parts of the known globe; but though his pockets had been often filled with Spanish gold, they had again been quickly emptied through his own folly, and the greed of pretended friends; gambling, drinking, and other similar pursuits being his bane. He now begged a crust and a draught of beer, or even of water, with leave to lie down in an outhouse that he might rest his weary limbs. We listened to his sad tale, and being sure that he spoke the truth, invited him into the house and placed before him a hearty meal, to which, however, he seemed scarcely able to do justice, so far gone was he with sickness. Still the little he ate revived him, and he talked on with my brother Gilbert here—a ready listener. At first he spoke only of voyages made long ago, but at length he told him of one he had lately performed across the Atlantic in a ship to obtain sassafras, and trade with the natives of Virginia. The name immediately aroused Gilbert’s attention, who called me to listen to what the seaman was saying. He had sailed in April from Milford Haven, on board the Speedwell, Captain Martin Pring, a ship of about fifty tons, the year after our present King James came to the throne, and in company with her went the Discoverer, bark of the same size, commanded by Captain Brown. They were victualled for eight months, and laden with all sorts of apparel, gewgaws and baubles proper to trade with the inhabitants of the country whither they were going. Arriving off the coast of Virginia in June, they entered a great gulf, where they found people on both sides, with whom they had much intercourse. Here they were engaged in loading their bark with sassafras, much to their satisfaction.