By Right of Conquest; Or, With Cortez in Mexico. Henty George Alfred
is just it, Cousin Dorothy! Don't you see, if I were to tell you, it would be a proof that I could not keep a secret? And then, if you told it, I could not blame you for blabbing. I don't say there is any secret; but if there is, I must keep it."
"I know that you are going into danger, Reuben; else you would not have all those great guns they say there are, on board."
"The great guns will keep us out of danger, you see. The more guns, the less danger."
"Come away, Agnes," Dorothy said, with an assumption of stateliness. "Cousin Roger is altogether too smart for us. Let him keep his secrets, if he will; and let us go and help mother with her sewing."
And so, for the last two or three days before the Swan sailed, there was a coolness between Roger and the girls, as well as between Diggory Beggs and his wife.
At last the day came when everything was complete, the water casks filled, and the last packet and bale stored away in the hold; and even Reuben Hawkshaw admitted that there was nothing else that he could think of, requisite either for the safety or navigation of the ship, or the provisioning or health of the crew.
The order was passed round for all the old hands to be aboard before sunset, that evening, together with those who had been openly engaged to fill up the vacancies. As for the rest, the twelve recruiters each received private orders. Three of them were to bring down the men they had engaged to the wharf, abreast of the Swan, at eight o'clock; and to go off in the boat which would be awaiting them there, under charge of Master Standing. Three others were to come half an hour later. The other six were to bring down their men at daybreak–so that all would get on board unnoticed.
The last meal at Master Diggory's was but a dull one. The subject of the Swan and her voyage had, by common consent, been dropped altogether for the last day or two; and it was not until supper was over that Mistress Mercy, and the girls, knew that the hour of sailing was at hand. Then Reuben spoke up:
"We go on board tonight, Cousin Mercy, and shall get up our anchor and loose our sails the first thing in the morning. I know that you have been somewhat aggrieved, at not learning more about our intentions; but it was not Cousin Diggory's fault that you have not been told."
"I do not seek to pry into matters which my husband thinks fit to conceal from me," she said, coldly.
"Nevertheless, cousin, you are hurt; and I cannot blame you, seeing that it is natural that a woman should like to know what is passing around her. But I wish, before I go, that you should see that Diggory is not to blame in this matter. There is no harm in my telling you, now, that he stands not alone in this venture, but that others have joined with him. Now he himself, knowing you to be a circumspect woman, who could be trusted to keep to yourself anything that you might learn, would willingly have taken you into our councils; but all women are not so discreet, and matters which it is very important should be kept secret might have leaked out, had it not been proposed that all concerned in the matter should bind themselves solemnly to each other, to say no words about it, even to their wives; and thus, you see, Diggory's lips have been sealed, and that not by any mistrust of you.
"It may be some time before it will be prudent for the truth about this voyage to be known, but in good time those concerned may think fit to relieve each other of this agreement they have entered upon, and to let their wives, and others who may be depended upon, into the secret. I wanted to tell you this before we sailed, for I should not like to go away feeling that you cherished aught of malice against me; for I have seen for some time that you have held me, as well as your husband, to blame. We are going on a long voyage, Cousin Mercy, and one from which it may well be that none of us will ever return to this good town of Plymouth. I am somewhat breaking my promise in saying this, and I rely upon you, and the girls, repeating it to no one. It is a long and venturous journey, and one not without much peril; but if it succeeds, it will bring much honor, as well as wealth, to all concerned.
"And now, Cousin Mercy, as I have told you so much as that, I trust that we may part as we have always parted, in friendly and kindly fashion. You and your husband have been good friends to me and my boy, and have gone in that matter far beyond the ordinary bounds of kinship; and I should not like to start upon this voyage knowing that there was a cloud between us."
Mistress Mercy rose from her seat, walked round to Reuben Hawkshaw, and kissed him.
"Forgive me, Cousin Reuben," she said, "for my cross looks and shrewish ways. I see that I have acted altogether wrongly in the matter, and that neither you nor Diggory are to blame. I knew not that others were concerned, and thought that a mystery was being made because it was considered that, did I know it, I should run out and blab it in the streets of Plymouth. Now I know how it is, I am well content as to that; but not so, at the thought of this unknown peril into which you are about to run, and I wonder that Diggory should adventure your life, and that of Roger, upon such an expedition."
"It is my own proposal, Cousin Mercy, and Diggory has but yielded to my wishes. Roger is as hot for the adventure as I am, and we are both content to run what risks we may encounter, for the honor which we shall gain if we return safely home.
"And now, Roger, let us be going. Leave takings are sad things, and the shorter they are made, the better."
While these words had been said the girls, who sat on either side of Roger, were silently making their peace with him, by furtive squeezes of his hands below the table; and they burst into tears, as Roger and his father rose.
"Goodbye, Agnes," Roger said.
"Goodbye, Dorothy," and as he kissed her he whispered, "if I return, I will bring you the prettiest trinkets ever seen in Plymouth."
"Bring back yourself, Roger, and I shall be more than content," she replied.
In another minute they were gone, Diggory Beggs taking his hat and starting with them; telling his wife that he should not return until morning, as he should go on board the Swan with them, and remain until she sailed.
"You will not go before daybreak, Cousin Reuben?" Mistress Mercy asked.
"No; it will more likely be an hour after sunrise before we weigh anchor."
"Then I and the girls will be down on the wharf, to see the last of you and wave our kerchiefs, and wish you a pleasant voyage and a safe return."
Chapter 3: The Voyage
Great was the surprise of the original crew of the Swan, when boat load after boat load of fresh hands arrived. They themselves had been quietly told that the voyage was likely to be one of unusual length, and that none save those willing and ready to stay away, as long as might be required, were to sail in the Swan on her present venture. There was, therefore, a general idea current among them that Master Hawkshaw had some adventure quite out of the ordinary in his mind; and the news that some heavy guns had arrived from London for her, had confirmed their opinion as to the voyage.
"Let us have no loud talk, tonight," Reuben Hawkshaw ordered. "When we get our sails spread tomorrow, and are well out of port, you can talk to your hearts' content; but the night is still, and I want not that attention of any on shore should be called to the ship. There has been more foolish talk than enough about her already; so turn in to rest, lads, without ado. The boatswain will serve you each out a pottle of cider, such as you never drank on board ship before, I warrant me, and which is a sample of what you will have, all the voyage. When you have tossed that off, let each lie down as he can find space. We will divide into watches, and settle as to each man's place, tomorrow.
"Pengarvan, set four hands aside to go on shore, with the boat, an hour before daybreak. Tell them off to sleep where you can lay hands upon them, easily. Keep the boat alongside, and make off to the wharf as noiselessly as you can; but I shall be on deck, then, and will give you further orders."
The second mate only replied, "Ay, ay, Captain Hawkshaw," for he was a man of but few words.
Reuben Hawkshaw was not fond of Cornishmen, but he made an exception in the case of Pengarvan–indeed, although their borders joined, there was little liking among Cornish and Devon men for each other.
"They are black, ill-conditioned dogs," Reuben Hawkshaw would say; "good sailors, I own; none better; but glum