Antony Waymouth: or, The Gentlemen Adventurers. Kingston William Henry Giles
they blew up, till not a Spaniard remained to dispute the passage of the river. Now the English admiral thought fit to anchor his fleet opposite a pleasant spot near the mouth of the river, and, the larger number of the company landing, a fort was erected to guard against surprise, and the repairing of the ships commenced.
As yet they had gained much of what men call glory and renown, concerning the value of which there may be some dispute; but they had obtained no booty, about the desirableness of which there cannot be two opinions. So thought the adventurers. They were all eager, therefore, to proceed to the East, where they expected to find it in abundance, and accordingly hurried on the refitting of the ships. It was well that they did so, for scarcely was the squadron once more clear of the land than a large fleet was seen approaching the mouth of the river. The English ships stood on their course, for the strangers, undoubtedly Spaniards and Portugals, were too numerous to be trifled with. The enemy were soon seen to make sail in chase. The English set all their canvas, not to avoid the fight, but to separate the ships of the enemy, so as to deal first with the faster sailers. The plan answered; but the leading Spanish ships soon got such a taste of the guns of the Dragon, the Serpent, and the Lion, that they dropped astern, the rest not deeming it prudent to take their places, content with boasting that they had put an English squadron to flight.
Thus triumphantly the English ships sailed on their way across the Atlantic till they neared the Cape Bona Spei, or Bona Speranza, as in those days the Cape of Good Hope was frequently called. Once more they dropped anchor in Saldanha Bay, a place at which most vessels sailing to Cathay were wont to touch. The common people among the prisoners had been left on shore in America; but the officers and the Portugal governor and his daughter, and some attendants, had been carried on, the admiral deeming that they might be useful to exchange with any English persons of quality who might have been captured by the Portugals; or, if not, that a good ransom might be obtained for them. Don Joao and Donna Isabel remained accordingly on board the Lion, where Captain Wood, as did his young lieutenant, paid them all the attention in their power.
Waymouth admired the fair captive. He could speak her language better than most on board, and many an hour, not unnaturally, he passed in her company. It is possible that his feelings might have run away with him altogether had he not had so grave a monitor as Edward Raymond by his side, who was ever whispering that Donna Isabel was of a country at enmity with his, of a faith differing greatly from his, and that, though her attractions were great, there were many fair ladies in England possessed of still greater, and more suited to be his bride. These remarks did not exactly go in at one ear and out the other; but no sooner did Donna Isabel appear on deck than they were forgotten for the time. That Donna Isabel had, however, any other feeling than that of gratitude for Antony Waymouth, no one on board could say, for she was equally courteous to Raymond and to all the other officers.
Don Joao meantime was very anxious to be liberated, as he wanted to get to his government, and he was continually urging his captors to allow him to depart on board the first Portugal ship they might meet, he undertaking to pay a large ransom for himself and daughter. Captain Wood was a jovial-hearted and mannered man. He laughed loudly at the proposal.
“Thine own ransom, worthy senhor, we shall fix at not less than five hundred golden pieces; and for thy daughter, we must allow Antony Waymouth to arrange that.”
The captain spoke in jest, but to Waymouth the proposal caused sore perplexity. He was grieved to have to part with her, in the first place. In the second, if he named a ransom at what he considered her value, it would be high indeed; if he mentioned a small sum, it would appear as if he held her in low esteem. He was very much inclined to quarrel with his captain on the matter; but the more perplexed he appeared the more determined Captain Wood became to fix him to the point. He walked the deck in a state of great agitation. All sorts of mad schemes occurred to him.
He had paced up and down for some time when he was joined by Raymond, who had heard of his perplexity.
“Let me judge if I may help to get thee free of thy difficulty,” said Raymond, who, having an older head on his shoulders, was not so troubled as his younger friend about the matter. “You have to name the value of this fair Portugal donna; you esteem her very highly too.”
“Yes, indeed I do. She is the most charming, sweet, enchanting creature my eyes have ever beheld or expect to behold,” exclaimed Waymouth, uttering many other rhapsodical expressions, which his friend did not interrupt. When he ceased, the latter quietly remarked —
“Well, repeat all you have said to our captain, and then declare that, as she is above all price, so no price would pay her ransom, and that, therefore, she is entitled to go free.”
Waymouth struck his forehead, surprised that so bright a thought had never occurred to him, and, thanking Edward, hastened to the captain to give his reply.
It was taken in good part; no one was inclined to gainsay it; and Don Joao undertook to pay the required sum, how, when, and where it might be demanded.
“At your own castle, when we can get there, and to whomsoever we may depute,” was the reply.
Perfect confidence was placed in Don Joao that he would pay the money. At that time the Portugals and the Spaniards were held in respect for their rigid adherence to the code of honour which they had laid down for themselves.
The difficulty was to find a ship by which to send them, as the admiral was unwilling to go out of his course to land them. Hitherto the squadron had avoided all disaster, though not successful in making prizes. They were now in a part of the ocean where fearful hurricanes were at times to be expected, and in a latitude full of little-known islands and rocks; at the same time, they might hope to meet with numerous ships of the enemy.
Waymouth, as he thought on having to part with Donna Isabel so soon, became more and more downcast, though Edward and good Master Walker, the minister, and the other officers, did their utmost to keep up his spirits; some, like Raymond and Master Walker, by entering into his feelings; others, like Captain Wood, by bantering and quizzing.
“A sail! a sail!” was shouted from the mast-head, whence a bright lookout was constantly kept. Chase was made – the stranger was overtaken. She proved to be a Portugal, a straggler from a large squadron supposed to be far ahead.
Not a moment was to be lost. Every article of value was taken from her except the fittings of her chief cabin, some guns for signals, and provisions sufficient to last her till she could reach the Malabar coast. The admiral then ordered the prisoners to be placed in her. Waymouth had the duty of conveying them.
Donna Isabel spoke but little, keeping her head muffled in her hood. The English lieutenant tried to talk, but never had he felt so tongue-tied. This was not surprising. He could say nothing definite about the future, and he had little to say about the past. He carefully helped her up the side, and placed her on a seat on the deck of the Tiger. Don Joao was profuse in his expressions of gratitude for the treatment he and his daughter had received, and over and over again declared that it would afford him intense satisfaction to pay his ransom whenever demanded. Waymouth, like a true sailor, had hurried below to see what arrangements could be made for the comfort and convenience of Donna Isabel, and, having pointed out to the officers of the ship what was to be done, had returned on deck resolved to pour out all his feelings into her ear, when a gun from the admiral, repeated by the Lion, warned him that he must not delay another moment. All he could do was to bow low as he passed the lady and her father, utter a low farewell, and, leaping into his boat, pull back to the Lion as fast as his men could bend to their oars. The squadron instantly made all sail in chase of the enemy supposed to be ahead. For some time Waymouth had too much to do to look towards the ship on board which he had left the Portugal governor and his daughter, and when he did look she appeared but a speck on the horizon. He stood gazing, lost in a reverie. He was aroused by a slap on the shoulder.
“Look ahead! that’s the way we seamen set our faces,” said a voice near him, “quoting your own words, coz. We have changed places, methinks.”
Waymouth, looking round, saw Raymond and several other officers standing behind him. He heaved a sigh, and then joined in the laugh in which the rest were indulging. He had been too long at sea not to know the folly of growing angry under such circumstances. Besides, as he confessed to Raymond,