BY ENGLAND'S AID G.A.HENTY OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES - THE LONDON APPRENTICES MAKE FUN OF LIONEL AND GEOFFREY. Page 40. Eng. Aid.] BY ENGLAND'S AID OB BY G. A. HENTY, Author of By Pike and Dykf," " The Lion of St. Mark," u Maori and Settbr? Bonnie Prince Charlie," "For the Temple," Etc. WITH TEN PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS B ALFRED PEAR.I& NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS. HENTY SCRIES FOR BOYS. UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME. Bv G. A. HENTY. Among Malay Pirates. Bonnie Prince Charlie. Boy Knight, The. Bravest of the Brave, The. By England'? Aid. By Pike and Dyke. By Right of Conquest. By Sheer Pluck. Captain Bayley's Heir. Cat of Bubastes, T&e. Cornet of Horse. The. Dragon and the Raven. Facing Death. Final Reckoning, A. For Name and Fame. For the Temple. Friends, Though Divided. Golden Canon /The. In Freedom's Cause. In the Reign of Terror. In Times of Peril. Jack Archer. Lion of St. Mark, The. Lioa of the North, Thfc Lost Heir The. Maori and Settler. One of the 28th. Orange and Green. Out on the Pa.mpas. St. George for England. Sturdy and Strong. Through the Fray. True to the Old Flag. Under Drake's Flag. With Clive in India. With Lee in Virginia, With Wolfe in Canada, Young Buglers, The, Young Carthaginian, The. Young Colonists, The. Young Franc-Tireurs, The. Young Midshipman, The. thret Price Post-Paid, 350. each, or any books for $1.00. HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. PREFACE MY DEAR LADS, In my preface to By Pike and Dyke I promised in a future story to deal with the closing events of the "War of Independence in Holland. The period over which that war extended was so long, and the incidents were so nu merous and varied, that it was impossible to include the whole within the limit of a single book. The former volume brought the story of the struggle down to the death of the Prince of Orange and the capture of Ant werp ; the present gives the second phase of the war, when England, who had long unofficially assisted Holland, threw herself openly into the struggle, and by her aid mainly contributed to the successful issue of the war. In the first part of the struggle the scene lay wholly among the low lands and cities of Holland and Zeeland, and the war was strictly a defensive one, waged against overpower ing odds. After England threw herself into the strife it assumed far wider proportions, and the independence of the Xetherlands was mainly secured by the defeat and destruc tion of the great Armada, by the capture of Cadiz and the fatal blow thereby struck at the mercantile prosperity of Spain, and by the defeat of the Holy League by Henry of Navarre, aided by English soldiers and English gold. For the facts connected with the doings of Sir Francis Vere and the British contingent in Holland, I have depended much upon the excellent work by Mr. Clement Markham entitled the Fighting Veres. In this full justice is done 4 PItEFACE. to the great English general and his followers, and it is conclusively shown that some statements to the disparage ment of Sir Francis Yere by Mr. Motley are founded upon a misconception of the facts. Sir Francis Vere was, in the general opinion of the time, one of the greatest com manders of the age, and more, perhaps, than any other man -with the exception of the Prince of Orange con tributed to the successful issue of the struggle of Holland to throw off the yoke of Spain. Yours sincerely, G. A. HEKTY. NOTE. By England's Aid is indebted to John Lothrop Motley's History of the United Netherlands, in the same way that its predecessor By Pike and Dyke is to the Rise of the Dutch Republic. The author depends, as every one must do who treats of this period, either in romance or history, upon its most distinguished, not to say its sole historian, for the historical data on which his work is based ; and youthful readers of the adventures of the two Eng lish lads, whose thrilling experiences form the subject of the story, may readily fill out the historical framework of the fiction that interests them by turning to Motley's classic, where they will find the chronicle of actual events as stimulating and inspiring as the record of Mr. Henty's imaginary though admirably repre sentative heroes. CONTENTS. CHAPTER. PAGE. I. An Excursion 7 II. A Meeting in Chepe 26 III. In the Low Country , 47 IV. The Siege of Sluys 67 V. An Heroic Defense 85 VI. The Loss of the " Susan " 102 VII. A Popish Plot 120 VIII. The Spanish Armada 132 IX. The Rout of the Armada 149 X. The War in Holland 165 XL In Spain - 174 XII. Recruiting their Funds 191 XIII. The Festa at Seville ,, 209 XIV. The Surprise of Breda 226 XV. A Slave in Barbary 244 XVI. The Escape ....... 261 XVII. A Spanish Merchant 278 XVIII. Ivry 200 XIX. Steenwyk 310 XX. Cadiz 326 XXI. The Battle of Nieuport 343 XXII. Old Friends 354 XXIIL The Siege of Ostend 367 BY ENGLAND'S AID: OR, THE FREEING OF THE NETHERLANDS. CHAPTER I. AN EXCURSION. " AND we beseech Thee, Lord, to give help and succor to thy servants the people of Holland, and to deliver them from the cruelties and persecutions of their wicked op pressors ; and grant Thy blessing, we pray Thee, upon the arms of our soldiers now embarking to aid them in their extremity." These were the words with which the Rev. John Vickars, rector of Hedingham, concluded the family prayers on the morning of December 6th, 1585. For twenty years the first portion of this prayer had been repeated daily by him, as it had been in tens of thou sands of English households ; for since the people of the Netherlands first rose against the Spanish yoke the hearts of the Protestants of England had beat warmly in their cause, and they had by turns been moved to admiration at the indomitable courage with which the Dutch struggled for independence against the might of the greatest power in Europe, and to horror and indignation at the pitiless cruelty and wholesale massacres by which the Spaniards had striven to stamp out resistance. From the first the people of England would gladly have 7 g B Y ENGLAND ' S AID. joined in the fray, and made common cause with their co religionists ; but the queen and her counselors had been restrained by weighty considerations from embarking in such a struggle. At the commencement of the Avar the power of Spain overshadowed all Europe. Her infantry were regarded as irresistible. Italy and Germany were virtually her dependencies, and England was but a petty power beside her. Since Agincourt was fought we had taken but little part in wars on the Continent. The feudal system was extinct ; we had neither army nor military system ; and the only Englishmen with the slightest experience of war were those who had gone abroad to seek their fortunes, and had fought in the armies of one or other of the continental powers. Xor were we yet aware of our naval strength. Drake and Hawkins and the other buccaneers had not yet commenced their private war with Spain, on what was known as the Spanish main the waters of the West Indian Islands and no one dreamed that the time was approaching when England would be able to hold her own against the strength of Spain on the seat. Thus, then, whatever the private sentiments of Elizabeth and her counselors, they shrank from engaging England in a life and death struggle with the greatest power of the time ; though as the struggle went on the queen's sym pathy with the people of the Netherlands was more and more openly shown. In 1572 she was present at a parade of three hundred volunteers who mustered at Greenwich under Thomas Morgan and Eoger Williams for service in the Netherlands. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, half-brother of Sir Walter Raleigh, went out a few months later with 1500 men, and from that time numbers of English volunteers continued to cross the seas and join in the struggle against the Spaniards. Nor were the sympathies of the queen confined to allowing her subjects to take part in the fight ing i for she sent out large sums of money to the Dutch, B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 9 and as far as she could, without openly joining them, gave them her aid. Spain remonstrated continually against these breaches of neutrality, while the Dutch on their part constantly implored her to join them openly ; but she continued to give evasive answers to both parties until the assassination of William of Orange on 10th July, 1584, sent a thrill of horror through England, and determined the queen and her advisers to take a more decisive part in the struggle. In the following June envoys from the States arrived hi London, and were received with great honor, and a treaty between the two countries was agreed upon. Three months later the queen published a declaration to her peo* pie and to Europe at large, setting forth the terrible per secutions and cruelties to which " our next neighbors, the people of the Low Countries," the special allies and friends of England, had been exposed, and stating her deter mination to aid the in to recover their liberty. The proclamation concluded : " We mean not hereby to make particular profit to ourself and our people, only desiring to obtain, by God's favor, for the Countries, a deliverance of them from war by the Spaniards and foreigners, with a restitution of their ancient liberties and government." Sir Thomas Cecil was sent out at once as governor of Brill, and Sir Philip Sidney as governor of Flushing, these towns being handed over to England as guaranties by the Dutch. These two officers, with bodies of troops to serve as garrisons, took charge of their respective fortresses in November. Orders were issued for the raising of an army for service in the Low Countries, and Dudley, Earl of Leicester, was appointed by the queen to its command. The decision of the queen was received with enthusiasm in England as well as in Holland, and although the Earl of Leicester was not personally popular, volunteers nocked to his standard. Breakfast at Hedingham Rectory had been set at an 10 BY ENGLA ND ' 8 AID. earlier hour than usual on the 6th of December, 1585. There was an unusual stir and excitement in the village, for young Mr. Francis Vere, cousin of the Earl of Oxford, lord of Hedingham and of all the surrounding country, was to start that morning to ride to Colchester, there to join the Earl of Leicester and his following as a volunteer. As soon as breakfast was over young Geoffrey and Lionel Vickars, boys of fourteen and thirteen years old, proceeded to the castle close by, and there mounted the horses pro- Tided for them, and rode with Francis Vere to Colchester. Francis, who was at this time twenty -five years old, was accompanied by his elder brother, John, and his two younger brothers, Robert and Horace, and by many other friends ; and it was a gay train that cantered down the valley of the Colne to Colchester. That ancient town was all astir. Gentlemen had ridden in from all the country seats and manors for many miles round, and the quiet streets were alive with people. At two o'clock in the afternoon news arrived that the earl was approaching, and, headed by the bailiffs of the town in scarlet gowns, the multitude moved out to meet the earl on the Lexden road. Presently a long train was seen approaching ; for with Leicester were the earl of Essex, Lords North and Audley, Sir William Russell, Sir Thomas Shirley, and other volun teers, to the number of five hundred horse. All were gayly attired and caparisoned, and the cortege presented a most brilliant appearance. The multitude cheered lustily, the bailiffs presented an address, and followed by his own train and by the gentlemen who had assembled to meet him, the earl rode into the town. He himself took up his abode at the house of Sir Thomas Lucas, while his followers were distributed among the houses of the towns folk. Two hours after the arrival of the earl, the party from Iledingham took leave of Mr. Francis Vere. ci Good-bye, lads," he said to the young Vickars. "I trill keep my promise, never fear ; and if the struggle goes S T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 11 on till you are old enough to cany arms, I will, if I am still alive, take you under my leading and teach you the art of war/' Upon the following day the Earl of Leicester and his following rode to Manningtree, and took boat down the Stour to Harwich, where the fleet, under Admiral Wil liam Borough, was lying. Here they embarked, and on the 9th of December sailed for Flushing, where they were joined by another fleet of sixty ships from the Thames. More than a year passed. The English had fought sturdily in Holland. Mr. Francis Vere had been with his cousin, Lord Willoughby, who was in command of Bergen-op-Zoom, and had taken part in the first brush with the enemy, when a party of the garrison marched out and attacked a great convoy of four hundred and fifty wag ons going to Antwerp, killed three hundred of the enemy, took eighty prisoners, and destroyed all their wagons except twenty-seven, which they carried into the town. Leicester provisioned the town of Grave, which was be sieged by the Duke of Parma, the Spanish commander-in- chief. Axel was captured by surprise, the volunteers swimming across the moat at night, and throwing open the gates. Doesburg was captured, and Zutphen besieged. Parma marched to its relief, and, under cover of a thick fog, succeeded in getting close at hand before it was known that he was near. Then the English knights and volunteers, 200 in number, mounted in hot haste and charged a great Spanish column of 5000 horse and foot. They were led by Sir William Russell, under whom were Lords Essex, North, Audley, and Willoughby, behind the last of whom rode Francis Vere. For two hours this little band of horse fought desperately in the midst of the Spanish cavalry, and forced them at last to fall back, but were themselves obliged to retreat when the Spanish in fantry came up and opened fire upon them. The English loss was 34 killed and wounded, while 250 of the Spaniards 12 B Y ENGLAND ' 5 AID. were slain, and three of their colors captured. Among the wounded on the English side was the very noble knight Sir Philip Sidney, who was shot by a inusket-ball, and died three weeks afterwards. The successes of the English during these two years were counterbalanced by the cowardly surrender of Grave by us governor, and by the treachery of Sir William Stanley, governor of Deventer, and of Roland Yorke, who com manded the garrisons of the two forts known as the Zut- phen Sconces. Both these officers turned traitors and delivered up the posts they commanded to the Spaniards. Their conduct not only caused great material loss to the allies, but it gave rise to much bad feeling between the English and Dutch, the latter complaining that they re ceived but half-hearted assistance from the English. It was not surprising, however, that Leicester was unable to effect more with the little force under his command, for it was necessary not only to raise soldiers, but to invent regu lations and discipline. The Spanish system was adopted, and this, the first English regular army, was trained and appointed precisely upon the system of the foe with whom they were fighting. It was no easy task to convert a body of brave knights and gentlemen and sturdy country men into regular troops, and to give them the advantages conferred by discipline and order. But the work was ren dered the less difficult by the admixture of the volunteers who had been bravely fighting for ten years under Morgan, Rowland Williams, John Morris, and others. These had had a similar experience on their first arrival in Holland. Several times in their early encounters with the Spaniards the undisciplined young troops had behaved badly ; but they had gained experience from their reverses, and had proved themselves fully capable of standing in line even against the splendid pikemen of Spain. While the English had been drilling and fighting in Holland things had gone oa quietly at Hedingham. The S Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 13 village srands near the head waters of the Colne and Stour, in a rich and beautiful country. On a rising ground be hind it stood the castle of the Veres, which was approached from the village by a drawbridge across the moat. There were few more stately piles in England than the seat of the Earl of Oxford. On one side of the great quadrangle was the gate-house and a lofty tower, on another the great hall and chapel and the kitchens, on a third the suites of apartments of the officials and retinue. In rear were the stables and granaries, the butts and tennis-court, be yond which was the court of the tournaments. In the center of the quadrangle rose the great keep, which still stands, the finest relic of Norman civil archi tecture in England. It possessed great strength, and at the same time was richly ornamented with carving. The windows, arches, and fireplaces were decorated with chev ron carvings. A beautiful spiral pattern enriched the doorway and pillars of the staircase leading to galleries cut in the thickness of the wall, with arched openings looking into the hall below. The outlook from the keep extended over the parishes of Castle Hedingham, Sybil Iledingham, Kirby, and Tilbury, all belonging to the Veres whose property extended far down the pretty valley of the Stour with the stately Hall of Long Melford, the Priory of Clare, and the little town of Lavenham ; indeed the whole country was dotted with the farmhouses and manors of the Veres. Seven miles down the valley of the Colne lies the village of Earl's Colne, with the priory, where ten of the earls of Oxford lie buried with their wives. The parish church of Castle Hedingham stood at the end of the little village street, and the rectory of Mr. Vickars was close by. The party gathered at morning prayers con sisted cf Mr. Vickars and his wife, their two sons, Geof frey and Lionel, and the maid-servants, Ruth and Alice. The boys, now fourteen and fifteen years old respectively, 14 BY ENGLAND'S AID. were strong-grown and sturdy lads, and their lather haa long since owned with a sigh that neither of them was likely to follow his profession and fill the pulpit at Hed- ingham Church when he was gone. Nor was this to be wondered at, for lying as it did at the entrance to the great caatle of the Veres, the street of the little village was con stantly full of armed men, and resounded with the tramp of the horses of richly-dressed knights and gay ladies. Here came great politicians, who sought the friendship and support of the powerful earls of Oxford, nobles and knights, their kinsmen and allies, gentlemen from the wide- spreading manors of the family, stout fighting-men who wished to enlist under their banner. At night the sound of music from the castle told of gay entertainments and festive dances, while by day parties of knights and ladies with dogs and falcons sallied out to seek sport over the wide domains. It could hardly be expected, then, that lads of spirit, brought up in the midst of sights and sounds like these, should entertain a thought of settling down to the tranquil life of the church. As long as they could re member, their minds had been fixed upon being soldiers, and fighting some day under the banner of the Veres. They had been a good deal in the castle ; for Mr. Vickars had assisted Arthur Golding, the learned instructor to young Edward Vere, the 17th earl, who was born in 1550, and had succeeded to the title at the age of twelve, and he had afterwards been tutor to the earl's cousins, John, Francis, Kobert, and Horace, the sons of Geoffrey, fourth son of the 15th earl. These boys were born in 1558, 1560, 1502, and 1565, and lived with their mother at Kir- by Hall, a mile from the castle of Hedingham. The earl was much attached to his old instructor, and when he was at the castle there was scarce a day but an invita tion came down for Mr. Vickars and his wife to be present either at banquet or entertainment. The boys were free to come and go ae the/ chose, and the earl's men-at-arms BF ENGLAND'S AID. 15 nad orders to afford them all necessary teaching m the use of weapons. Mr. Vickars considered it his duty to accept the inrita- tions of his friend and patron, but he sorely grudged the time so abstracted from his favorite books. It was, indeed, a relief to him when the earl, whose love of profusion and luxury made serious inroads even into the splendid pos sessions of the Veres, went up to court, and peace and quietness reigned in the castle. The rector was fonder < r going to Kirby, where John, Geoffrey's eldest son, lived quietly and soberly, his three younger brothers having, when mere boys, embraced the profession of arms, placing themselves under the care of the good soldier Sir William Browne, who had served for many years in the Low Coun tries. They occasionally returned home for a time, and were pleased to take notice of the sons of their old tutor, although Geoffrey was six years junior to Horace, the youngest of the brothers. The young Vickars had much time to themselves, much more indeed than their mother considered to be good for them. After their breakfast, which was finished by eight o'clock, their father took them for an hour and heard the lessons they had prepared the day before, and gave them instruction in the Latin tongue. Then they were supposed to study till the bell rang for dinner at twelve ; but there was no one to see that they did so, for their father seldom came outside his library door, and their mother was busy with her domestic duties and in dispensing simples to the poor people, who, now that the monasteries were closed, had no medical aid save that which they got from the wives of the gentry or ministers, or from the wise women, of whom there was generally one in every village. Therefore, after half an hour, or at most an hour, spent in getting up their tasks, the books would be thrown aside, and the boys be off, either to the river or up to the castle to practice sword-play with the men-at arms, or to the 16 B Y ENGLAND ' S AIL. butts with their bows, or to the rabbit-warren, where they had leave from the earl to gt> with their dogs whenever they pleased. Their long excursions were, however, gen erally deferred until after dinner,, as they were then free until supper-time, and even if they did not return after that hour Mrs. Vickars did not chide them unduly, being a;i easy-going woman, and always ready to make excuses for them. There were plenty of fish in the river ; and the boys knew tiio pools they loved best, and often returned with their baskets well filled. There were otters on its banks, too ; but, though they sometimes chased these pretty creat ures, Tan and Turk, their two dogs, knew as well as their masters that they had but small chance of catching them. Sometimes they would take a boat at the bridge and drop down the stream for miles, and once or twice had even gone down to Bricklesey l at the mouth of the river. This, however, was an expedition that they never performed alone, making it each time in charge of Muster Lirriper, who owned a flat barge, and took produce down to Bricklesey, there to be transhipped into coasters bound for London. He had a married daughter there, and it was at her house the boys had slept when they went there ; for the journey down and up again was too long to be per formed in a single day. But this was not the only distant expedition they had made, for they had once gone down the Stour as far as Harwich with their father when he was called thither on business. To them Harwich with its old walls and the houses crowded up within them, and its busy port with vessels coming in and going out, was most delightful, and they always talked about that expedition as one of the most pleasant recollections of their lives. After breakfast was over on 1st of May, 1587, and they had done their lessons with their father, and had worked 1 Now Brightlingsea. E Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 17 for an hour by themselves, the boys put by their books and strolled down the village to the bridge. There as usual stood their friend Master Lirriper with his hands deep in Ids pockets, a place and position in which he was sure to be found when not away in his barge. " Good-morning, Master Lirriper/' "Good-morning, Master Geoffrey and Master Lionel." " So you are not down the river to-day ?" " No, sir. I am going to-morrow, and this time I shall be away four or five days maybe even a week." " Shall you ?" the boys exclaimed in surprise. "Why, what are you going to do ? " " I am going round to London in my nephew Joe Cham bers' craft." "Are you really ?" Geoffrey exclaimed. "I wish we were going with you. Don't you think you could take us, Master Lirriper ? " The bargeman looked clown into the water and frowned. He Avas slow of speech, but as the minutes went on and he did not absolutely refuse the boys exchanged glances of excitement and hope. "I dunno how that might be, young sirs," John Lirri per said slowly, after long cogitation. "I dus-say my nephew would have no objection, but what would parson say about it ? " " Oh, I don't think he would object," Geoffrey said. " If you go up and ask him, Master Lirriper, and say that you will take care of us, you know, I don't see why he should say no." " Like enough you would be ill," John Lirriper said after another long pause. " It's pretty rough some times." " Oh, we shouldn't mind that," Lionel protested. " We should like to see the waves and to be in a real ship." " It's nothing much of a ship," the boatman said. " She is a ketch of about ten tons and curries three hands." a 18 B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. " Oh, we don't care how small she is if we can only go in her ; and you would be able to show us London, and we might even see the queen. Oh, do come up with us and ask father, Master Lirriper." " Perhaps parson wouldn't be pleased, young sirs, and might say I was putting wandering thoughts into your heads ; and Mistress Yickars might think it a great liberty on my part." " Oh, no, she wouldn't, Master Lirriper. Besides, we will say we asked yon." " But suppose any harm comes to you, what would thej say to me then ? " " Oh, there's no fear of any harm coming to us. Be sides, in another year or two we mean to go over to th Low Countries and fight the Spaniards, and what's a voy age to London to that ? " "Well, I will think about it," John Lirriper said cau tiously. " No no, Master Lirriper ; if you get thinking about it it will never be done. Do come up with us at once," and each of them got hold of one of the boatman's arms. " Well, the parson can but say no," he said, as he suf fered himself to be dragged away. " And I don't say as it isn't reasonable that you should like to see something of the world, young sirs ; but I don't know how the parson will take it." Mr. Vickars looked up irritably from his books when the: servant came in and said that Master Lirriper wished to see him. "What does he want at this hour ?" he said. "You know, Ruth, I never see people before dinner. Any time between that and supper I am at their service, but it's too bad being disturbed now." "I told him so, sir; but Master Geoffrey and Master Lionel were with him, and they said he wanted particular to see you, and they wanted particular too." BY ENGLAND'S AID. IS The clergyman sighed as he put his book down. " If Geoffrey and Lionel have concerned themselves in the matter, Ruth, I suppose I must see the man ; but it's very hard being disturbed like this. Well, Muster Lirri- per, what is it ? " he asked, as the boatman accompanied by Geoffrey and Lionel entered the room. Master Lir- riper twirled his hat in his hand. Words did not come easily to him at the best of times, and this was a business that demanded thought and care. Long before he had time to fix upon an appropriate form of words Geoffrey broke in : " This is what it is, father. Master Lirriper is going down the river to Bricklesey to-morrow, and then he is going on board his nephew's ship. She is a ketch, and she carries ten tons, though I don't know what it is she car ries ; and she's going to London, and he is going in her, and he says if you will let him he will take us with him. */ / and will show us London, and take great care of us. It will be glorious, father, if yon will only let us go." Mr. Vickars looked blankly as Geoffrey poured out his torrent of words. His mind was still full of the book he had been reading, and he hardly took in the meaning of Geoffrey's words. " Going in a ketch ! " he repeated. " Going to catch something, I suppose you mean ? Do you mean he is going fishing ? " " No, father, going in a ketch. A ketch is a sort of ship, father, though I don't quite know what sort of ship. What sort of ship is a ketch, Master Lirriper ? " " A ketch is a two-masted craft, Master Geoffrey," John Lirriper said. " She carries a big mizzen sail." " There, you see, father," Geoffrey said triumphantly ; " she carries a big mizzen sail. That's what she is, you see ; and he is going to show us London, and will take great care of us if you will let us go with him." "Do you mean, Master Lirriper," Mr. Vickars asked 20 I?r slowly, " that you are going to London in some sort ox ship, and want to take my sons with you ? " " Well, sir, I am going to London, and the young masters seemed to think that they would like to go with me, if so be you would have no objection." " I don't know," Mr. Vickars said. "It is a long pas sage, Master Lirriper ; and, as I have heard, often a stormy one. I don't think my wife " " Oh, yes, father," Lionel broke in. " If you say yes, mother is sure to say yes ; she always does, you know. And, you see, it will be a great thing for us to see London. Every one else seems to have seen London, and I am sure that it would do us good. And we might even see the queen." " I think that they would be comfortable, sir," John Lirriper put in. " You see, my nephew's wife is daughter of a citizen, one Master Swindon, a ship's chandler, and he said there would be a room there for me, and they would make me heartily welcome. Now, you see, sir, the young masters could have that room, and I could very well sleep on board the ketch ; and they would be out of all sort of mischief there." " That would be a very good plan certainly, Master Lirriper. Well, well, I don't know what to say." " Say yes, father," Geoffrey said as he saw Mr. Vickars glance anxiously at the book he left open. " If you say yes, you see it will be a grand thing for you, our being away for a week with nothing to disturb you." "Well, well," Mr. Vickars said, "you must ask your mother. If she makes no objection, then I suppose you can go," and Mr. Vickars hastily took up his book again. The boys ran off to the kitchen, where their mother was superintending the brewing of some broth for a sick woman down the village. "Mother!" Geoffrey exclaimed, "Master Lirriper's going to London in a ketch a ship with a big mizzen sail, BY ENGLAND'S AID. 2i you know aiid he has offered to take us with him and show us London. And father has said yes, and it's all settled if you have no objection ; and of course you haven't." " Going to London, Geoffrey \" Mrs. Vicars exclaimed aghast. " I never heard of such a thing. Why, like enough you will be drowned on the way and never come back again. Your father must be mad to think of such a tiling." " Oh, no, mother ; I am sure it will do us a lot of good. And we may sea -jhe queen, mother. And as for drown ing, why, we can both swim ever so far. Besides, people don't get drowned going to London. Do they, Master Li r riper ? " John was standing bashfully at the door of the kitchen. " Well, not as a rule, Master Geoffrey," he replied. 'They comes and they goes, them that are used to it, maybe a hundred times without anything happening to them." '' There ! You hear that, mother ? They come and go hundreds of times. Oh, I am sure you are not going to say no. That would be too bad when father has agreed to it. J^ow, mother, please tell Ruth to run away at once and get a wallet packed with our things. Of course we shall want our best clothes ; because people dress finely in London, and it would never do if we saw the queen and AVC hadn't our best doublets on, for she would think that we didn't know what was seemly down at Hedingham." " Well, my dears, of course if it is all settled " " Oh, yes, mother, it is quite all settled." " Then it's no use my saying anything more about it, but I think your father might have consulted me before he gave his consent to your going on such a hazardous journey as this." " He did want to consult you, mother. But then, you see. he wanted to consult b lV ^ooks even more, and ho 22 B Y ENGLAND ^S AID. knew very well that you would agree with him ; and you know you would too. So please don't say anything more about it, but let Ruth run upstairs and see to our things at once. There, you see, Master Lirriper, it is all settled. And what time do you start to-morrow ? We will be there half an hour before, anyhow." " I shall go at seven from the bridge. Then I shall just catch the turn of the tide and get to Bricklesey in good time." " I never did see such boys/' Mrs. Yickars said when John Lirriper had gone on his way. " As for your father, I am surprised at him in countenancing you. You will be running all sorts of risks. You may be drowned on the way, or killed in a street brawl, or get mixed up in a plot. There is no saying what may not happen. Arid here it is all settled before I have even time to think about it, which is most inconsiderate of your father." " Oh, we shall get back again without any harm, mother. And as to getting killed in a street brawl, Lionel and I can use our hangers as well as most of them. Besides, nothing of that sort is going to happen to us. Now, mother, please let Ruth go at once, and tell her to put up our puce doublets that we had for the jousting at the castle, and our red hose and our dark green cloth slashed trunks." " There is plenty of time for that, Geoffrey, as you are not going until to-morrow. Besides, I can't spare Ruth now, but she shall see about it after dinner." There was little sleep for the boys that night. A visit to London had long been one of their wildest ambitions, and they could scarcely believe that thus suddenly and without preparation it was about to take place. Their father had some time before promised that he would some day make request to one or other of the young Veres to al low them to ride to London in his suite, but the present seemed to them an even more delightful plan. There would be the pleasure of the voyage, and moreover it would B Y ENGLAND ' 5 AID. 23 be much more lively for them to be able to Bee London under the charge of John Lirriper than to be subject to the ceremonial and restraint that would be enforced in the household of the Veres. They were then at the appointed place a full hour before the time named, with wallets con taining their clothes, and a basket of provisions that their mother had prepared for them. Having stowed these away in the little cabin, they walked up and down impatiently until Master Lirriper himself appeared. "You are up betimes, my young masters/* the boatman said. " The church has not yet struck seven o'clock. " " We have been here ever so long, Master Lirriper. We could not sleep much last night, and got up when it chimed five, being afraid thai we might drop off to sleep and be late." " Well, we shall not be long before we are off. Here comes my man Dick, and the tide is just on the turn. The sky looks bright, and the weather promises well. I will just go round to the cottage and fetch up my things, and then we shall be ready/* In ten minutes they pushed off from the shore. John and his man got out long poles shod with iron, and with these set to work to punt the barge along. Now that they were fairly on their way the boys quieted down, and took their seats on the sacks of flour with which the boat was laden, and watched the objects on the bank as the boat made her way quietly along. Halstead was the first place passed. This was the largest town near Hediugham, and was a place of much importance in their eyes. Then they passed Stanstead Hall and Earl's Colne on their right, Colne Wake on their left, and Chapel Parish on their right. Then there was a long stretch without any large villages, until they came in sight of the bridge above Colchester. A few miles below the town the river began to widen. The banks were low and flat, and they were now entering an arm of the sea. Half 24 B F ENGLAND ' S AIL. an hour later the houses and church of Bricklesey came in sight. Tide was almost low when they ran on to the mud abreast of the village, but John put on a pair of high boots and carried the boys ashore one after the other on his back, and then went up with them to the house where they were to stop for the night. Here, although not expected, they were heartily wel comed by John's daughter. " If father had told me that you had been coming, Masters Vickars, I would have had a proper dinner for you ; but though he sent word yesterday morning that he should be over to-day, he did not say a word about your coming with them." " He did not know himself/' Geoffrey said ; " it was only settled at ten o'clock yesterday. But do not trouble your self about the dinner. In the first place, we are so pleased at going that we don't care a bit what we eat, and in the second place we had breakfast on board the boat, and we were both so hungry that I am sure we could go till supper- time without eating if necessary." "Where are you going, father?" the young woman asked. "I am going to set about unloading the flour." " Why, it's only a quarter to twelve, and dinner just ready. The fish went into the frying-pan as you came up from the boat. You know we generally dine at half-past eleven, but we saw you coming at a distance and put it off. It's no use your starting now." " Well, I suppose it isn't. And I don't know what the young masters' appetite may be, but mine is pretty good, I can tell you." "I never knew it otherwise, father," the woman laughed. " Ah, here is my Sam. Sam, here's father brought these two young gentlemen. They are the sous of Mr. Vickars, the oarson at Hedingham. They are going B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 25 to stop here to-night, and are going with him in the Susan to-morrow to London." " Glad to see you, young masters/' Sam said. " I have often heard Ann talk of your good father. I have just been on board the Susan, for I am sending up a couple of score sides of bacon in her, and have been giving Joe Chambers, her master, a list of things he is to get there and bring down for me. ^Tow then, girl, bustle about and get dinner on as soon as you can. We are half an hour late. I am sure the young gentlemen here must be hungry. There's nothing like being on the water for getting an appetite." A few minutes later a great dish of fish, a loaf of bread and some wooden platters, were placed on the table, and all set to at once. Forks had not yet come into use, and table-cloths were unknown, except among the upper classes. The boys found that in spite of their hearty breakfast their appetites were excellent. The fish were delicious, the bread was home-baked, and the beer from Colchester, which was already famous for its brewing. When they had finished, John Lirriper asked them if they would rather see what there was to be seen in the village, or go off to the ketch. They at once chose the latter alternative. On going down to the water's edge they found that the tide had risen sufficiently to enable Dick to bring the barge alongside the jetty. They were soon on board. " Which is the Susan, Master Lirriper ? " " That's her lying out there with two others. She is the one lowest down the stream. W~e shall just fetch her comfortably." BY EXQLAHD'S AID. CHAPTEE II. A MEETING IN CHEPB. A BOW of ten minutes took the boat with Master Lirriper and the two boys alongside the ketch. "How are you, Joe Chambers ? " Master Lirriper hailed the skip per as he appeared on the deck of the Susan. " I have brought you two more passengers for London. They are going there under my charge." " The more the merrier, Uncle John," the young skip per replied. " There are none others going this journey, so though our accommodation is not very extensive, we can put them up comfortably enough if they don't mind roughing it." " Oh, we don't mind that," Geoffrey said, as they climbed on board ; " besides, there seems lots of room." "Not so much as you think," the skipper replied. " She is a roomy craft is the Susan ; but she is pretty nigh all hold, and we are cramped a little in the f o'castle. Still we can sleep six, and that's just the number we shall have, for we carry a man and a boy besides myself. I think your flour will about fill her up, Master Lirriper. We have a pretty full cargo this time." " Well, we shall soon see," John Lirriper said. " Are you ready to take the flour on board at once ? Because, if so, we will begin to discharge.'' "' Yes, I am quite ready. You told me you were going to bring forty sacks, and I have left the middle part of the hold empty for them. Sam Hunter's bacon will stow in on the top of jour sacks, and just fill her UD to the beams B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 27 there as I reckon. I'll go below and stow them away as you hand them across." In an hour the sacks of flour were transferred from the barge to the hold of the Susan, and the sides of bacon then placed upon them. " It's a pity we haven't all the rest of the things on board," the skipper said, " and then we could have started by this evening's tide instead of waiting till the morning. The wind is fair, and I hate throwing away a fair wind. There is no saying where it may blow to-morrow, but I shouldn't be at all surprised if it isn't round to the south, and that will be foul for us till we get pretty nigh up into the mouth of the river. However, I gave them till to night for getting all their things on board, and must therefore wait." To the boys the Susan appeared quite a large craft, for there was not water up at Hedingham for vessels of her size ; and though they had seen ships at Harwich, they had never before put foot on anything larger than Master Lirriper's barge. The Susan was about forty feet long by twelve feet beam, and drew, as her skipper informed them, near five feet of water. She was entirely decked. The cabin in the bows occupied some fourteen feet in length. The rest was devoted to cargo. They descended into the cabin, which seemed to them very dark, there being no light save what came down through the small hatchway. Still it looked snug and comfortable. There was a fire place on one side of the ladder by which they had de scended, and on this side there were two bunks, one above the other. On the other side there were lockers running along the entire length of the cabin. Two could sleep on these, and two on the bunks above them. "Now, young masters, you will take those two bunks on the top there. John Lirriper and I will sleep on the lockers underneath you. The man and the boy have the two on the other side. I put you on the top because there 28 B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. is a side board, and you can't fall out if she rolls, arid besides the buuks are rather wider than the lockers below. If the wind is fair you won't have much of our companv, because we shall hold on till we moor alongside the wharves of London ; but if it's foul, or there is not enough of it to take us against tide, we have to anchor on the ebb, and then of course we turn in." " How long do you take getting from here to London ? " " Ah, that I can tell you more about when I see what the weather is like in the morning. With a strong fair wind I have done it in twenty-four hours, and again with the wind foul it has taken me nigh a week. Taking one trip with another I should put it at three days." 'Well, now, we will be going ashore," John Lirriper said. "I will leave my barge alongside till tide turns, for I could not get her back again to the jetty so long as it is running in strong, so I will be off again in a couple of hours. " So saying he hauled up the dingy that was towing be hind the barge, and he and Dick rowed the two boys ashore. Then he walked along with them to a spot where several craft were hauled up, pointing ont to them the differences in their rig and build, and explained their pur pose, and gave them the names of the principal ropes and stays. "Xow," he said, "it's getting on for supper-time, and it won't do to keep them waiting, for Ann is sure to have got some cakes made, and there's nothing puts a woman out more than people not being in to meals when they have got something special ready. After that I shall go out with Dick and bring the barge ashore. He will load her up to-morrow, and take her back single-handed ; which can be done easy enough in such weather as this, but it is too much for one man if there is a strong wind blowing and driving her over to the one side or other of the river." B Y ENGLA JVD 'gr A ID. 29 As John Lirriper had expected, his daughter had pre pared a pile of hot cakes for supper, and her face bright ened up when she saw the party return punctually. The boys had been up early, and had slept but little the night before, and were not sorry at eight o'clock to lie down on the bed of freshly cut rushes covered with home-spun sheets, for regular beds of feathers were still but little used in England. At five o'clock they were astir again, and their hostess insisted on their eating a manchet of bread with some cheese, washed down by a stonp of ale before starting. Dick had the boat at the jetty ready to row them off, and as soon as they were on board the Susan prep arations were made for a start. The mainsail was first hoisted, its size greatly surprising the boys ; then the foresail and jib were got up, and lastly the mizzen. Then the capstan was manned, and the an chor slowly brought on board, and the sails being sheeted home, the craft began to steal through the water. The tide was stili draining up, and she had not as yet swung. The wind was light, and, as the skipper had predicted, was nearly due south. As the ketch made its way out from the mouth of the river, and the wide expanse of water opened before them, the boys were filled with delight. They had taken their seats, one on each side of the skipper, who was at the tiller. " I suppose you steer by the compass, Master Chambers ? '' Geoffrey said. " Which is the compass ? I have heard about it always pointing to the north." " It's down below, young sir ; I will show it you presently. We steer by that at night, or when it's foggy ; but on a fine day like this there is no need for it. There are marks put up on all the sands, and we steer by them. You see, the vray tlic wind is now we can lay our course for the WLiUakor. That's ii cruel sand, that is, and stretches out a long way rom a point lying away on the right there. Once past that we bear away to the southwest, for we are 30 BY ENGLAND 'S AID. then, BO to speak, fairly in the course of the rirer. There is many a ship has been cast away on the "Whittaker. Not that it is worse than other sands. There are scores of them lying in the mouth of the river, and if it wasn't for the marka there would be no sailing in or out." ' Who put up the marks ?" Lionel asked. "They are put up by men who make a business of it. There is one boat of them sails backwards and forwards where the river begins to narrow above Sheerness, and every ship that goes up or down pays them something ac cording to her size. Others cruise about with long poles, putting them in the sands wherever one gets washed away. They have got different marks on them. A single cross- piece, or two cross-pieces, or a circle, or a diamond ; so that each sand has got its own particular mark. These are known to the masters of all ships that go up and down the river, and so they can tell exactly where they are, and what course to take. At night they anchor, for there would be no possibility of finding the way up or down in the dark. I have heard tell from mariners who have sailed abroad that there ain't a place anywhere with such dan gerous sands as those we have got here at the mouth of the Thames." In the first three or four hours' sail Geoffrey and Lionel acquired much nautical knowledge. They learned the difference between the mainmast and the mizzen, found that all the strong ropes that kept the masts erect and stiff were called stays, that the ropes that hoist sails are called halliards, and that sheets is the name given to the ropes that restrain the sails at the lower corner, and are used to haul them in more tightly when sailing close to the wind, or to ease them off when the wind is favorable. They also learned that the yards at the head of the main and mizzen sails are called gaffs, and those at the bottom, booms. "I think that's about enough for you to remember in one day, young masters," John Lirriper said. " You bear BY ENGLAND'S AID. 31 all that in your mind, and remember that each halliard and sheet has the name of the sail to which it is attached, and you will have learnt enough to make yourself useful, and can lend a hand when the skipper calls out, * Haul in the jib-sheet, * or ' Let go the fore-halliards. ' Now set your selves down again and see what is doing. That beacon you can just see right ahead marks the end of the Whit- taker Spit. "When we get there we shall drop anchor till the tide turns. You see we are going across it now ; but when we round that beacon we shall have it dead against us, and the wind would be too light to take us against it even if it were not from the quarter it is. You see there are two or three other craft brought up there. " "Where have they come from do you think, Master Lirriper ? " "Well, they may have come o\\t from Burnham, or they may have come down from London and be going up to Burnham or to Bricklesey when the tide turns. There is a large ship anchored in the channel beyond the Whittaker. Of course she is going up when tide begins to flow. And there are the masts of two vessels right over there. They are in another channel. Between us and them there is a line of sands that you will see will show above the water when it gets a bit lower. That is the main channel, that is ; and vessels coming from the south with a large draught of water generally use that, while this is the one that it handiest for ships from the north. Small vessels from the south come in by a channel a good bit beyond those ships. That is the narrowest of the three ; and even light-draught vessels don't use it much unless the wind is favorable, for there is not much room for them to beat up if the wind is against them." "What is to beat up, Master Lirriper ?" " Well, yon will see about that presently. I don't think we shall be able to lay our course beyond the Whittaker. To lay our course means to steer the way we want to go ; 32 BY ENGLAND : ,S A i L\ and if we can't do that we shall have to beat, and that is tedious work with a light wind like this." They dropped anchor off the beacon, and the captain said that this was the time to take breakfast. The lads already smelt an agreeable odor arising from the cabin forward, where the boy had been for some time busily en gaged, and soon the whole party were seated on the lockers in the cabin devouring fried fish. " Master Chambers," Geoffrey said, "we have got two boiled pullets in our basket. Had we not better have them for dinner ? They were cooked the evening before we came away, and I should think they had better be eaten now." " You had better keep them for yourselves, Master Geoffrey/' the skipper said. *' We are accustomed to living on fish, but like enough you would get tired of it before we got to London." But this the boys would not hear of, and it was accord ingly arranged that the dinner should be furnished from the contents of the basket. As soon as tide turned the anchor was hove up and the Susan got under way again. The boys soon learnt the meaning of the word beating, and found that it meant sail ing backwards and forwards across the channel, with the wind sometimes on one side of the boat and sometimes on the other. Geoffrey wanted very much to learn why, when the wind was so nearly ahead, the boat advanced instead of drifting backwards or sideways. But this was altogether beyond the power of either Master Lirriper or Joe Cham bers to explain. They said every one knew that when the sails were full a vessel went in the direction in which her head pointed. "It's just the same way with yourself, Master Geoffrey. You see, when you look one way that's the way you go. When you turn your head and point another way, of course you go off that way ; and it's just the same thing with the ship." B T ENGLA ND ' 5 AID. 33 " I don't think it's the same thing, Master Lirriper," Geoffrey said puzzled. ' ( In one case the power that makes * one go comes from the inside, and so one can go in any direction one likes ; in the other it comes from outside, and you would think the ship would have to go any way the wind pushes her. If you stand up and I give you a push, I push you straight away from me. You don't go side ways or come forward in the direction of my shoulder, which is what the ship does." John Lirriper took off his cap and scratched his head. " I suppose it is as you say, Master Geoffrey, though I never thought of it before. There is some reason, no doubt, why the craft moves up against the wind so long as the sails are full, instead of drifting away to leeward ; though I never heard tell of it, and never heard any one ask before. I dare say a learned man could tell why it is ; and if you ask your good father when you go back I would wager he can explain it. It always seems to me as if a boat have got some sort of sense, just like a human being or a horse, arid when she knows which way you wants her to go she goes. That's how it seems to me ain't it, Joe ? " " Something like that, uncle. Every one knows that a boat's got her humors, and sometimes she sails better than she does others ; and each boat's got her own fancies. Some does their best when they are beating, and some are lively in a heavy sea, and seem as if they enjoy it ; and others get sulky, and don't seem to take the trouble to lift their bows up when a wave meets them ; and they groans and complains if the wind is too hard for them, just like a human being. When you goes to a new vessel you have got to learn her tricks and her ways and what she will do, and what she won't do, and just to humor her as you would a child. I don't say as I think she is actually alive ; but every sailor will tell you that there is something about her that her builders never put there." " That's so." John Lirriper agreed. " Look at a boat 3 34 B T ENGLAND ' 5 AID. that is hove up when her work's done and going to be broken up. Why, any one can tell her with half an eye. She looks that forlorn and melancholy that one's inclined to blubber at the sight of her. She don't look like that at any other time. When she is hove up she is going to die, and she knows it." " But perhaps that's because the paint's off her sides and the ropes all worn and loose," Geoffrey suggested. But Master Lirriper waved the suggestion aside as un worthy even of an answer, and repeated, "She knows it. Anyone can see that with half an eye." Geoffrey and Lionel talked the matter over when they were sitting together on deck apart from the others. It was an age when there were still many superstitions cur rent in the land. Even the upper classes believed in witches and warlocks, in charms and spells, in lucky and unlucky days, in the arts of magic, in the power of the evil eye ; and although to the boys it seemed absurd that a vessel should have life, they were not prepared altogether to discredit an idea that was evidently thoroughly believed by those who had been on board ships all their lives. After talking it over for some time they determined to submit the question to their father on their return. It took them two more tides before they were off Sheer- ness. The wind was now more favorable, and having in creased somewhat in strength, the Susan made her way briskly along, heeling over till the water ran along her scuppers. There was plenty to see now, for there were many fishing-boats at work, some belonging, as Master Chambers told them, to the Medway, others to the little village of Leigh, whose church they saw at the top of the hiU to their right. They met, too, several large craft com ing down the river, and passed more than one, for the Susan was a fast boat. " They would beat us," the skipper said when the boys expressed their surprise at their passing such large vessels, BY EXGLANW8 AIL. 35 " if the wind were stronger or the water rough. We are doing our beat, and if the wind rises I shall have to take in sail ; while they could carry all theirs if it blew twice as *hard. Then in a sea, weight and power tell ; a wave that would knock the way almost out of us would hardly affect them at all." So well did the Susan go along, that before the tide was much more than half done they passed the little village of Gravesend on their left, with the strong fort of Tilbury on the opposite shore, with its guns pointing on the river, and ready to give a good account of any Spaniard who should venture to sail up the Thames. Then at the end of the next reach the hamlet of Grays was passed on the right ; a mile further Greenhithe on the left. Tide was getting slack now, but the Susan managed to get as far as Purfleet, and then dropped her anchor. " This is our last stopping-place," Joe Chambers said. " The morning tide will carry us up to London Bridge. " " Then you will not go on with to-night's tide P " Geof frey asked. " No ; the river gets narrower every mile, and I do not care to take the risk of navigating it after dark, especially as there is always a great deal of shipping moored above Greenwich. Tide will begin to run up at about five o'clock, and by ten we ought to be safely moored alongside near London Bridge. So we should not gain a great deal by going on this evening instead of to-morrow morning, and I don't suppose you are in a particular hurry." "Oh, no," Lionel said. " We would much rather goon in the morning, otherwise we should miss everything by the way ; and there is the Queen's Palace at Greenwich that I want to see above all things." Within a few minutes of the hour the skipper had named for their arrival, the Susan was moored alongside some vessels lying off one of the wharves above the Tower. The boys' astonishment had risen with every mil* of their 36 B T ENGLAND ' 5 AID. approach to the city, and they were perfectly astounded at the amount of shipping- that they now beheld. The great proportion were of course coasters, like themselves, but there were many large vessels among them, and of these fully half were flying foreign colors. Here were traders from the Netherlands, with the flag that the Spaniards had in vain endeavored to lower, flying at their mast-heads. Here were caravels from Venice and Genoa, laden with goods from the East. Among the rest Master Chambers pointed out to the lads the ship in which Sir Francis Drake had circumnavigated the world, and that in which Captain Stevens had sailed to India, round the Cape of Good Hope. There were many French vessels also in the Pool, and in deed almost every flag save that of Spain was represented. Innumerable wherries darted about among the shipping, and heavier cargo boats dropped along in more leisurely fashion. Across the river, a quarter of a mile above the point at which they were lying, stretched London Bridge, with its narrow arches and the houses projecting beyond it on their supports of stout timbers. Beyond, on the right, rising high above the crowded roofs, was the lofty spire of St. Paul's. The boys were almost awed by this vast assemblage of buildings. That London was a great city they had known, but they were not prepared for so immense a difference between it and the place where they had lived all their lives. Only with the Tower were they somewhat disappointed. It was very grand and very ex tensive, but not so much grander than the stately abode ot the Veres as they had looked for. " I wouldn't change, if I were the earl, with the queen's majesty,'" Geoffrey said. " Of course it is larger than Hedingham, but not so beautiful, and it is crowded in by the houses, and has not like our castle a fair look-out ou all sides. Why, there can be no hunting or hawking near here, and I can't think what the nobles can find to do all da?." BY ENGLAND'S AID. 37 " Now, young sirs," Master Lirriper said, " if you will get your wallets we will go ashore at once." The boys were quite bewildered as they stepped ashore by fche bustle and confusion. Brawny porters carrying heavy packages on their backs pushed along unceremoniously, saying from time to time in a mechanical sort of way, " By your leave, sir ! " but pushing on and shouldering passers- by into the gutter without the smallest compunction. The narrowness and dinginess of the streets greatly surprised and disappointed the boys, who found that in these respects even Harwich compared favorably with the region they were traversing. Presently, however, after passing through several lanes and alleys, they emerged into a much broader street, alive with shops. The people who were walking here were for the most part well dressed and of quiet de meanor, and there was none of the rough bustle that had prevailed in the river-side lanes. "This is Eastchepe," their conductor said ; "we have not far to go now. The street in which my friend dwells lies to the right, between this and Tower Street. I could have taken you a shorter way there, but I thought that your impressions of London would not be favorable did I take you all the way through those ill-smelling lanes/' In a quarter of an hour they arrived at their destination, and entered the shop, which smelt strongly of tar , coils of rope of all sizes were piled up one upon another by the walls, while on shelves above them wre blocks, lanterns, compasses, and a great variety of gear of whose use the boys were ignorant. The chandler was standing at his door. " I am right glad to see you, Master Lirriper,'"' he said, " and have been expecting you for the last two or three days. My wife would have it that some evil must have be fallen yon ; but you know what women are. They make little allowance for time or tide or distance, but expect that every one can so arrange his journeys as to arrive at the 38 B T ENGLAND '8 AID. very moment when they begin to expect him. But who hare you here with you ? " These are the sons of the worshipful Mr. Vickars, the rector of our parish, and tutor to the Earl of Oxford and several of the young Veres, his cousins a wise gentleman and a kind one, and much loved among UB. He has in trusted his two sons to me that I might show them some what of this city of yours. I said that I was right sure that you and your good dame would let them occupy the cham ber you intended for me, while I can make good shift on board the Susan." " Nay, nay, Master Lirriper ; our house is big enougk to take in yon and these two young masters, and Dorothy would deem it a slight indeed upon her hospitality were you not to take up your abode here too. You will be heartily welcome, young sirs, and though such accom modation as we can give you will not be equal to that which you are accustomed to, I warrant me that you will find it a pleasant change after that poky little cabin on board the Susan. I know it well, for I supply her with stores, and have often wondered how men could accustom themselves to pass their lives in places where there is scarce room to turn, to say nothing of the smell of fish that always hangs about it. But if you will follow me I will take you up to my good dame, to whose care I must commit you for the present, as my foreman, John Watkins, is down by the riverside seeing to the proper delivery of divers stores on board a ship which sails with the next tide for Holland. My apprentices, too, are both out, as I must own is their wont. They always make excuses to slip down to the river side when there is aught doing, and I am far too easy with the varlets. So at present, you see, I cannot long leave my shop." So saying the chandler preceded them up a wide stair case that led from a passage behind the shop, and the boys perceived that the house waa far more roomy and com- B F ENGLAND ' 5 AID. 3ft fortable than they had judged from its outward appearance. Turning to the left when he reached the top of the stairs the chandler opened a door. "Dorothy," he said, "here is your kinsman, Master Lirriper, who has suffered none of the misadventures you have been picturing to yourself for the last two days, and he has brought with him these young gentlemen, sons of the rector of Hedingham, to show them something of London." " You are welcome, young gentlemen,'* Dame Dorothy said, " though why any one should come to London when he can stay away from it I know not." " Why, Dorothy, you are always running down our city, though I know right well that were I to move down with you to your native Easex again you would very soon cry out for the pleasures of the town." " That would I not," she said. " I would be well con tented to live in fresh country air all the rest of my life, though I do not say that London has not its share of pleas ures also, though I care but little for them." "Ah, Master Lirriper," her husband said laughing, " you would not think, to hear her talk, that there is not a feast or a show that Dorothy would stay away from. She never misses an opportunity, I warrant you, of showing herself off in her last new kirtle and gown. But I must be going down ; there is no one below, and if a customer comes and finds the shop empty he will have but a poor idea of me, and will think that I am away gossiping instead of attending to my business." " Are you hungry, young sirs ?" the daine asked. " Be cause if so the maid shall bring up a manchet of bread and a cup of sack ; if not, our evening meal will be served in the course of an hour." The boys both said that they were perfectly able to wait until the meal came ; and Geoffrey added, " If you will Allow us, mistress, as doubtless you have private matters 40 BY ENGLAND'S AID. to talk of with Master Lirriper, my brother and I will walk out for an hour to see something of the town." " Mind that you lose not your way," Master Lirriper said. " DC not go beyond Eastchepe, I beg yon. There are the shops to look at there, and the fashions of dress and other matters that will occupy your attention well enough for that short time. To-morrow morning I will myself go with you, and we can then wander further abroad. I have promised your good father to look after you, you know ; and it will be but a bad beginning if you meet with any untoward adventure upon this the first day of your arrival here." " We will not go beyond the limits of Eastchepe ; and as to adventures, I can't see very well how any can befall us." " Gli, there are plenty of adventures to be met with in London, young sir ; and I shall be well content if on the day when we again embark on board the Susan none of them have fallen to your share." The two lads accordingly sallied out and amused them selves greatly by staring at the goods exhibited in the open shops. They were less surprised at the richness and variety of the silverwork, at the silks from the East, the costly satins, and other stuffs, than most boys from the country would have been, for they were accustomed to the splendor and magnificence displayed by the various noble guests at the castle, and saw nothing here that surpassed the bril liant shows made at the jousting and entertainment at Hedingham. It was the scene that was novel to them : the shouts of the apprentices inviting attention to their employers' wares, the crowd that filled the street, consisting for the most part of the citizens themselves, but varied by nobles and knights of the court, by foreigners from many lands, by soldiers id men-at-arms from the Tower, by countrymen and Bailors. Their amusement was sometimes turned into anger by the flippant remarks of the apprentice* f hese BY ENGLAND 1 S AID. 41 varlets, perceiving easily enough by the manner of their attire that they were from the country, were not slow, if v their master happened for the moment to be absent, in indulging in remarks that set Geoffrey and Lionel into a fever to commit a breach of the peace. The " What do you lack, masters ? " with which they generally addressed passers-by would be exchanged for remarks such as, " Do not trouble the young gentlemen, Nat. Do you not see they are up in the town looking for some of their master's calves ?" or, "Look you, Philip, here are two rustics who have come up to town to learn manners." "I quite see, Geoffrey," Lionel said, taking his brother by the arm and half dragging him away as he saw that he was clenching his fist and preparing to avenge summarily one of these insults even more pointed than usual, " that Master Lirriper was not very far out, and there is no diffi culty in meeting with adventures in the streets of London. However, we must not give him occasion on this our first stroll in the streets to say that we cannot be trusted out of his sight. If we were to try to punish these insolent var lets, we should have them upon us like a swarm of bees, and should doubtless get worsted in the encounter, and might even find ourselves hauled off to the lock-up, and that would be a nice tale for Master Lirriper to carry back to Hedingham." " That is true enough, Lionel ; but it is not easy to keep one's temper when one is thus tried. I know not how it is they see so readily that we are strangers, for surely we have mixed enough with the earl's family and friends to have rubbed off the awkwardness that they say is common to country folk ; and as to our dress, I do not see much dif ference between its fashion and that of other people. I suppose it is because we look interested in what is going on, instead of strolling along like those two youths opposite with our noses in the air, as if we regarded the city and its belongings as infinitely below our regard. Well, I think 42 S T ENGLAND ' 5 AID. we had best be turning back to Master Swindon's ; it will not do to be late for our meal." " Well, young sirs, what do yon think of our shops ? " Dame Swindon asked as they entered. "The shops are well enough," Geoffrey replied ; "but your apprentices seem to me to be an insolent set of jack anapes, who take strange liberties with passers-by, and who would be all the better for chastisement. If it hadn't been that Lionel and I did not wish to become engaged in a brawl, we should hare given some of them lessons in manners." " They are free in speech," Dame Swindon said, " and are an impudent set of varlets. They have quick eyes and ready tongues, and are no respecters of persons save of their masters and of citizens in a position to lay complaints against them and to secure them punishment. They hold together greatly, and it is as well that you should not be come engaged in a quarrel with them. At times they have raised serious tumults, and have even set not only the watch but the citizens at large at defiance. Strong measures have been several times taken against them ; but they are a powerful body, seeing that in every shop there are one or more of them, and they can turn out with their clubs many thousand strong. They have what they call their privileges, and are as ready to defend them as are the citizens of London to uphold their liberties. Ordinances have been passed many times by the fathers of the city, regulating their conduct and the hours at which they may be abroad and the carrying of clubs and matters of this kind, but the apprentices seldom regard them, and if the watch arrest one for a breach of regulations, he raises a cry, and in two or three minutes a swarm of them collect and rescue the offender from his hands. Therefore it is seldom that the watch interferes with them." " It would almost seem then that the apprentices are in fact the masters/' Geoffrey said. BY ENGLAND'S AID. 48 " Not quite as bad as that," Master Swindon replied. " There are the rules which they have to obey when at home, and if not they get a whipping ; but it is difficult to keep a hand over them when they are abroad. After the shops are closed and the supper over they have from time immemorial the right to go out for two hours* exer cise. They are supposed to go and shoot at the butts ; but archery, I grieve to say, is falling into disrepute, and although many still go the butts the practice is no longer universal. But here is supper. " Few words were spoken during the meal. The foreman and the two apprentices came up and sat down with the family, and it was not until these had retired that the con versation was again resumed. " "Where are you going to take them to-morrow, Master Lirriper ? " " To-morrow we will see the city, the shops in Chepe, the Guildhall, and St. Paul's, then we shall issue out from Temple Bar and walk along the Strand through the country to Westminster and see the great abbey, then per haps take a boat back. The next day, if the weather be fine, we will row up to Richniond and see the palace there, and I hope you will go with us, Mistress Dorothy ; it is a pleasant promenade and a fashionable, and methinks the river with its boats is after all the prettiest sight in Lon don." " Ah, you think there can be nothing pretty without water. That is all very well for one who is ever afloat, Master Lirriper ; but give me Chepe at high noon with all its bravery of dress, and the bright shops, and the gallants of the court, and our own citizens too, who if not quite so gay in color are proper men, better looking to my mind than some of the fops with their silver and satins/' "That's right, Dorothy," her husband said; "spoken like the wife of a citizen." All these plans were destined to be frustrated. As soon 44 S T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. as breakfast was over the next morning Master Lirriper started with the two boys, and they had but just entered Chepeside when they saw two young men approaching. '* Why, Lionel, here is Fnuicis Vere ! " Geoffrey ex claimed. ' 8 AID. 81 or forty feet away from that from which we were looking. The roof is so steep that no one could hold a footing upon it for a moment, nor could a plank be placed upon which he could walk. The window is about twelve feet from the top of the roof. We think that one standing on the ledge of our window might climb on to its top, and once there swing a rope with a stout grapnel attached to catch on the ridge of the roof ; then two or three men might climb up there and work themselves along, and then lower themselves down with a rope on to the top of the next window. They would need to have ropes fastened round their bodies, for the height is great, and a slip would mean death. " The one farthest out on the window could lean over when he hears a noise below him, and when he saw the cross-bow thrust from the window, could by a sudden blow knock it from the fellow's hand, when it would slide down the roof and fall into the narrow yard between the ware house and the walls. Of course some men would be placed there in readiness to seize it, and others at the door of the warehouse to arrest the traitor if he ran down." " I think the plan is a good one, though somewhat diffi cult of execution," Captain Vere said. " But this enter prise on the roof would be a difficult one and dangerous, since as you say a slip would mean death/' " Lionel and myself, sir, would undertake that with the aid of two active men to hold the ropes for us. We have both done plenty of bird-nesting in the woods of Heding- ham, and are not likely to turn giddy." " I don't think it is necessary for more than one to get down on to that window/' Captain Vere said. " Only one could so place himself as to look down upon the cross-bow. However, you shall divide the honor of the enterprise between you. You, as the eldest and strongest, Geoffrey, shall carry out your plan on the roof, while you, Lionel, shall take post at the door with four men to arrest the traitor when he leaves. I will select two strong and active 6 82 B F ENGLAND ' 8 A ID. men to accompany you, Geoffrey, and aid you in your at tempt ; but mind, before you try to get out of the window and to climb on to its roof, have a strong rope fastened round your body and held by the others ; then in case of a slip, they can haul you in again. I will see that the ropes and grapnels are in readiness." The next morning early Geoffrey proceeded with the two men who had been selected to accompany him to his usual look-out. Both were active, wiry men. and entered fully into the spirit of the undertaking when Geoffrey explained its nature to them. They looked out of the dormer-window at the sharp roof slanting away in front of them and up to the ridge above. " I think, Master Vickars," one of them, Roger Browne by name, said, " that I had best go up first. I served for some years at sea, and am used to climbing about in dizzy places. It is no easy matter to get from this window-sill astride the roof above us, and moreover I am more like to heave the grapnel so that it will hook firmly on to the ridge than you are." " Very well, Roger. I should be willing to try, but doubtless you would manage it far better than I should. But before you start we will fasten the other rope round your body, as Captain Vere directed me to do. Then in case you slip, or anything gives way with your weight, we can check you before you slide far down below us." A rope was accordingly tied round the man's body under his arms. Taking the grapnel, to which the other rope was attached, he got out on to the sill. It was not an easy task to climb up on to the ridge of the dormer-window, and it needed all his strength and activity ; o accomplish the feat. Once astride of the ridge the rest was easy. At the first cast he threw the grapnel so that it < might securely on the top of the roof. After testing it wii h two or three pulls he clambered up, leaving the lower v ml of the rope hanging by the side of the window. As soon as he had S Y ENGLAND ' S AID. 83 gained this position Geoffrey, who was to follow him, prepared to start. According to the instructions Browne had given him he fastened the end of the rope which was round Browne's body under his own shoulders, then leaning over and tak ing a firm hold of the rope to which the grapnel was attached, he let himself out df the window. Browne hauled from above at the rope round his body, and he pulled him self with his hands by that attached to the grapnel, and presently reached the top. " I am glad you came first, Roger," he said. " I do not think I could have ever pulled myself up if you had not assisted me." Ho unfastened the rope, and the end was thrown down to the window, and Job Tredgold, the other man, fastened it round him and was hauled up as Geoffrey had been. " We will move along now to that stack of chimneys coming through the roof four feet below the ridge on the town side," Geoffrey said. "We can stand down there out of sight of the Spaniards. We shall be sure to attract attention sitting up here, and might have some bullets fly ing round our ears, besides which this fellow's friends might suspect our object and signal to him in some way. It is two hours yet to the time when we have twice seen him send his bolts across the moat." This was accordingly done, and for an hour and a half they sat down on the roof Avith their feet against the stack of chimneys. " It is time to be moving now/' Geoffrey said at last. " I think the best way will be for me to get by the side of the dormer-window instead of above it. It would be very awkward leaning over there, and I should not have strength to strike a blow ; whereas with the rope under my arms and my foot on the edge of the sill, which projects a few inches beyond the side of the window, I could stand upright and strike a downright blow on the cross-bow." 84 BY ENGLAND'S AID. " That would be the best way, I think/' Roge* agreed; "and I will come down on to the top of the window and lean over. In the first place your foot might slip, and as you dangle there by the rope he might cut it and let you shoot over, or he might lean out and shoot you as you climb up the roof again ; but if I am above with my pistol in readiness there will be no fear of acci dents." B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AU). 85 CHAPTER V. AJf HEROIC DEFENSE. THE plan Roger Browne suggested was carried out. Oeoffrey was first lowered to his place by the side of the window, and bracing himself against its side with a foot on the sill he managed to stand upright, leaning against the rope that Job Tredgold held from above. Job had instructions when Geoffrey lifted his arm to ease the rope a few inches so as to enable the lad to lean forward. After two or three attempts Geoffrey got the rope to the exact length which would enable him to look round the corner and to strike a blow with his right hand, in which he held a stont club. Roger Browne then descended by the aid of the other rope, and fastening it round his body lay down astride of the roof of the window with his head and shoulders over the end, and his pistol held in readiness. It seemed an age to Geoffrey before he heard the sound of a footstep in the loft beside him. He grasped his cudgel firmly and leaned slightly forward. For ten min utes there was quiet within, and Geoffrey guessed that the traitor was writing the missive he was about to send to the enemy ; then the footstep approached the window, and a moment later a cross-bow was thrust out A glanoo at it sufficed to show that the bolt was enveloped in a piece of paper wound round it and secured with a string. Steady ing himself as well as he could Geoffrey struck with all his force down upon the cross-bow. The weapon, loosely held, went clattering down the tiles. There was an ex clamation of surprise and fury from within the window, 86 BY ENGLAND'S AID. and at the same moment Job Tredgold, seeing that Geof frey's attempt had been successful, hauled away at the rope and began to drag him backward up the tiles. The lad saw a man lean out of the window and look up at him, then a pistol was leveled ; but the report came from above the window, and not from the threatening weapon. A sharp cry of pain was heard, as the pistol fell from the man's hand and followed the cross-bow down the roof. A few seconds later Geoffrey was hauled up to the ridge, where he was at once joined by Koger Browne. Shifting the ropes they moved along till above the window from which they had issued. Geoffrey was first lowered down. As soon as he had got in at the window he undid the rope and Job Tredgold followed him, while Koger Browne slid down by the rope attached to the grapnel ; then they ran downstairs. As soon as they sallied out below they saw that Lionel and the men with him had captured a prisoner ; and just as they joined the party the guard came round from the other side of the warehouse, bringing with them the cross bow, its bolt, and the pistol. The prisoner, whose shoul der was broken by Roger Browne's shot, was at once taken to Captain Vere's quarters. That officer had just arrived from the walls, knowing the time at which the capture would probably be made. " So you have succeeded," he said. " Well done, lads ; you have earned the thanks of all. We will take this man at once to the governor, who is at present at the town- hall." By the time they issued out quite a crowd had assembled, for the news that William von Arnig had been brought a prisoner and wounded to Captain Vere's quarters had spread rapidly. The crowd increased as they went along, and Captain Vere and his party had difficulty in making their way to the town-hall, many of the people exclaiming loudly against this treatment of one of the leading citizens. B T ENGLAND S AID. 87 The governor was, when they entered, holding council with the English leader, Sir Koger Williams. " Why, what is this, Captain Vere ?" he asked in sur prise as that officer, accompanied by the two boys and fol lowed by Roger Browne and Job Tredgold guarding the prisoner, entered. " I have to accuse this man of treacherously communi cating with the enemy/' Francis Vere said. " What ? " Arnold de Groenvelt exclaimed in surprise. ' ' Why, this is Mynheer von Arnig, one of our most wor shipful citizens ! Surely, Captain Vere, there must be some error here ?" "I will place my evidence before you, " Captain Vere said ; " and it will be for you to decide upon it. Master Geoffrey Vickars, please to inform the governor what you know about this matter." Geoffrey then stated how he and his brother, being at the upper window of the warehouse, had on two days in succession seen a cross-bow discharged from a neigbouring window, and had noticed a Spanish soldier come out of a battery and pick up something which they believed to be the bolt, and how he and his brother had reported the cir cumstances to Captain Vere. That officer then took up the story, and stated that seeing the evidence was not con clusive, and it was probable that if an attempt was made to arrest the person, whomsoever he might be, who had used the cross-bow, any evidence of treasonable design might be destroyed before he was seized, he had accepted the offer of Master Vickars to climb the roof, lower him self to the window from which the bolt would be shot, and, if possible, strike it from the man's hands, so that it would fall down the roof to the courtyard below, where men were placed to seize it. Geoffrey then related how he, with the two soldiers guarding the prisoner, had scaled the roof and taken a position by the window ; how he had seen the cross-bow 88 BY ENGLAND'S AID. thrust out, and had struck it from the hands of the man holding it ; how the latter had leaned out, and would have shot him had not Koger Browne from his post above the window shot him in the shoulder. '* Here are the cross-bow and pistol/' Captain Vere said ; " and this is the bolt as it was picked up by my men. You see, sir, there is a paper fastened round it. I know not its contents, for I judged it best to leave it as it was found until I placed it in your hands/' The governor cut the string, unrolled the paper and examined it. It contained a statement as to the state of the wall, with remarks where it was yielding, and where the enemy had best shoot against it. It said that the defenders had in the night begun to form a half-moon be hind it, and contained a sketch showing the exact position of the new work. ' ' Gentlemen, what think you of this ? '' the governor asked the English officers. " There can be no doubt that it is a foul act of treach ery/' Williams said, " and the traitor merits death." " We will not decide upon it ourselves," the governor said. "I will summon six of the leading citizens, who shall sit as a jury with us. This is a grave matter, and touches the honor of the citizens as well as the safety of the town." In a few minutes the six citizens summoned arrived. The evidence was again given, and then the prisoner was asked what he had to say in his defense. "It is useless for me to deny it," he replied. "I am caught in the act, and must suffer for it. I have done my duty to the King of Spain, my sovereign ; and I warn you he will take vengeance for my blood." " That we must risk," the governor said. " Now, gentle men, you citizens of this town now attacked by the Span iards, and you, sir, who are in command of the soldiers of the Queen of England, have heard the evidence and the B F ENGLAND ' S AID. 89 answer the prisoner has made. What is your opinion thereon ? Do you, Sir Koger Williams, being highest in vrauk and authority, first give your opinion." " I find that he is guilty of an act of gross treason and treachery. For such there is but one punishment death." And the six citizens all gave the same decision. " You are found guilty of this foul crime, " the governor said, "and are sentenced to death. In half an hour you will be hung in the market-place, as a punishment to your self and a warning to other traitors, if such there be in this town of Sluys. As to you, young sirs, you have rendered a great service to the town, and have shown a dis cernment beyond your years. I thank you in the name of the city and of its garrison, and also in that of the States, whose servant I am/' A guard of armed citizens were now called in, the prisoner was handed to them, and orders given to their officer to carry the sentence into effect. A statement of the crime of the prisoner, with the names of those who had acted as his judges, and the sentence, was then drawn out, signed by the governor, and ordered by him to be affixed to the door of the town-hall. The two lads, finding that they were no longer required, hastened back to their quarters, having no wish to be present at the execution of the unhappy wretch whose crime they had been the means of detecting. A few days later considerable portions of the battered wall fell, and shortly afterwards a breach of two hundred and fifty paces long was effected, and a bridge of large boats constructed by the enemy from the dyke to the foot of the rampart. This was not effected without terrible loss. Hundreds of the bravest Spanish soldiers and sailors were killed, and three officers who succeeded each other in command of the attack were badly wounded. The Spanish had labored under great difficulties owing to the lack of earth to push 90 BY ENGLAND ' 5 AID. their trenches forward to the edge of the moat, arisiiig from the surrounding country being flooded. They only succeeded at last by building wooden machines of bullet proof planks on wheels, behind each of which four men could work. When all was prepared the Spaniards ad vanced to the attack, rushing up the breach with splendid valor, headed by three of their bravest leaders ; but they were met by the English and Dutch, and again and again hurled back. Day and night the fighting continued, the Spaniards occasionally retiring to allow their artillery to open fire again upon the shattered ruins. But stoutly as the de fenders fought, step by step the Spaniards won their way forward until they had captured the breach and the west gate adjoining it, there being nothing now beyond the hastily-constructed inner work between them and the town. The finest regiment of the whole of the Spanish infantry now advanced to the assault, but they were met by the defenders already sadly diminished in numbers, but firm and undaunted as ever, and their pikes and their axes well supplied the place of the fallen walls. Assault after assault was met and repulsed, Sir Eoger Williams, Thomas Baskervilio, and Francis Vere being always in the thick of the light. Laskervilie was distin guished by the white plumes of his helmet, Vere by his crimson manulo ; and the valor of these leaders attracted the admiration of the Duke of Parma himself, who watched the fight from the summit of the tower of the western gate. Francis Vere was twice wounded, but not disabled. Sir Eoger Williams urged him to retire, but he replied that he would rather be killed ten times in a breach than once in a house. Day by day the terrible struggle continued. The Span iards were able constantly to bring up fresh troops, but the defenders had no relief. They were reduced in num bers from 1000 to 700 men, and yet for eighteen clays GEOFFREY AND LIONEL SAVE FRANCIS VERB'S LIFE. Page 91 Eng. Aid.] BY ENGLAND'S AID. 91 they maintained the struggle, never once leaving the breach. The pages brought their food to them, and when the attacks were fiercest joined in the defense, fighting as boldly and manfully as the soldiers themselves. Geoffrey and Lionel kept in close attendance upon Francis Vere,, only leaving him to run back to their quarters and bring up the meals cooked for him and his two officers by Frau Menyn and her handmaids. Both kept close to him during the fighting. They knew that they were no match in strength for the Spanish pikemen ; but they had obtained pistols from the armory, and with these they did good service, several times freeing him from some of his assail ants when he was sorely pressed. On one occasion when Francis Vere was smitten down by a blow from an axe, the boys rushed forward and kept back his assailants until some of the men of the company came to his aid. " You have done me brave service indeed/' Captain Vere said to them when he recovered ; for his helmet had de fended him from serious injury, though the force of the blow had felled him. " It was a happy thought of mine when I decided to bring you with me. This is not the first time that yon have rendered me good service, and I am sure you will turn out brave and valiant soldiers of the queen." When each assault ceased the weary soldiers threw them selves down behind the earthen embankment, and obtained such sleep as they could before the Spaniards mustered for fresh attack. When, after eighteen days' terrible fight ing, the Duke of Parma saw that even his best troops were unable to break through the wall of steel, he desisted from the assault and began the slower process of mining. The garrison from their look-out beheld the soldiers crossing the bridge with picks and shovels, and prepared to meet them in this new style of warfare. Captain Uvedale was appointed to command the men told off for this duty, and 92 BY ENGLAND'S AID. galleries were run from several of the cellars to meet those of the enemy. As every man was employed either on the rampart or in mining, many of the pages 7, ere told off to act as watchers in the cellars, and to listen ibr the faint sounds that told of the approach of the enemy's miners. As the young Vickars were in attendance on the officers, they were ex empted from this work ; but they frequently went down into the ce/lars, both to watch the process of mining by their own men and to listen to the faint sounds made by the enemy's workmen. One day they were sitting on two wine-kegs, watching four soldiers at work at the end of a short gallery that had been driven towards the Spaniards. Suddenly there was an explosion, the miners were blown backwards, the end of the gallery disappeared, and a crowd of Walloon soldiers almost immediately afterwards rushed in. The boys sprang to their feet and were about to fly, when an idea occurred to Geoffrey. He seized a torch, and, standing by the side of a barrel placed on end by a large tier, shouted in Dutch, ' ' Another step forward and I fire the magazine ! " The men in front paused. Through the fumes of smoke they saw dimly the pile of barrels and a figure standing with a lighted torch close to one of them. A panic seized them, and believing they had made their way into a powder-magazine, uud that in another instant there would be a terrible crolosion, they turned with shouts of " A magazine ! a magazine ! Fly, or we are all dead men ! " "Run, Lionel, and get help, ' Geoffrey said, and in two or three minutes a number of soldiers ran down into the cellar. The Walloons were not long before they recovered from their panic. Their officers knew that the wine-cellars of the city were in front of them, and reassured them as to the character of the barrels they had seen. They were, BY ENGLAND'S AID. 93 ho v\ ever, too late, and a furious conflict took place at the entrance into the cellar, but the enemy, able only to advance two or three abreast, failed to force their way in. Captain Uvedale and Francis Vere were soon on the spot, and when at last the enemy, unable to force an en trance, fell back, the former said, " This is just as I feared. You see, the Spaniards drove this gallery, and ceased to work immediately they heard us approaching them. We had no idea that they were in front of us, and so they only had to put a barrel of powder there and fire it as sooii as there was but a foot or two of earth between us and them." " But how was it," Francis Vere asked, " that when they fired it they did not at once rush forward ? They could have captured the whole building before we knew what had happened." " That I cannot tell," Captain Uvedale replied. " The four men at work must have been either killed or knocked senseless. We shall know better another time, and will have a strong guard in each cellar from which our mines are being driven." " If it please you, Captain Uvedale," Lionel said, " it was my brother Geoffrey who prevented them from ad vancing ; for indeed several of them had already entered the cellar, and the gallery behind was full of them." " But how did he do that ? " Captain Uvedale asked in surprise. Lionel related the ruse by which Geoffrey had created a panic in the minds of the Spaniards. " That was well thought of indeed, and promptly carried out ! " Captain Uvedale exclaimed. " Francis, these pages of yours are truly promising young fellows. They detected that rascally Dutchman who was betraying us. I noticed them several times in the thick of the fray at the breach ; and now they have saved the city by their quick- 94 BY ENGLAND'S AID. ness and presence of mind ; for had these Spaniard* once got possession of this warehouse they would have speedily broken a way along through the whole tier, and could then have poured in upon us with all their strength/' "That is so, indeed/' Francis Vere agreed. "They have assuredly saved the town, and there is the greatest credit due to them. I shall be glad, Uvedale, if you will report the matter to our leader. You are in command of the mining works, and it will come better from you than from me who am their captain." Captain Uvedale made his report, and both Sir Roger Williams and the governor thanked the boys, and espe cially Geoffrey, for the great service they had rendered. Very shortly the galleries were broken into in several other places, and the battle became now as fierce and con tinuous down in the cellars as it had before been on the breach. By the light of torches, in an atmosphere heavy with the fumes of gunpowder, surrounded by piled-up barrels of wine, the defenders and assailants maintained a terrible conflict, men staggering up exhausted by their exer tions and by the stifling atmosphere, while others took their places below, and so, night and day, the desperate struggle continued. All these weeks no serious effort had been made for the relief of the hardly beleaguered town. Captains Hall and Allen had several times swum down at night through the bridge of boats with letters from the governor entreating a speedy succor. The States had sent a fleet which sailed some distance up the Zwin, but returned without making the slightest effort to break through the bridge of boats. The Earl of Leicester had advanced with a con siderable force from Ostend against the fortress of Blank- enburg, but had retreated hastily as soon as Parma de spatched a portion of his army against him ; and so the town was left to its fate. The last letter that the governor despatched said that BY ENGLAND'S AID. 96 longer resistance was impossible. The garrison were reduced to a mere remnant, and these utterly worn out by constant fighting and the want of rest. He should ask for fair and honorable terms, but if these were refused the garrison and the whole male inhabitants in the cit} r , putting the women and children in the center, would sally out and cut their way through, or die fighting in the midst of the Spaniards. The swimmer who took the letter was drowned, but his body was washed ashore and the letter taken to the Duke of Parma, Three days afterwards a fresh force of the enemy em barked in forty large boats, and were about to land on an unprotected wharf by the river-side when Arnold de Groen- velt hung out the white flag. His powder was exhausted ind his guns disabled, and the garrison so reduced that che greater portion of the walls were left wholly unde fended. The Duke of Parma, who was full of admiration at the extraordinary gallantry of the defenders, and was doubtless also influenced by the resolution expressed in his letter by the governor, granted them most honorable terms. The garrison were to march out with all their bag gage and arms, with matches lighted and colors displayed. They were to proceed to Breskans, and there to embark for Flushing. The life and property of the inhabitants were to be respected, and all who did not choose to embrace the Catholic faith were to be allowed to leave the town peaceably, taking with them their belongings, and to go wheresoever they pleased. When the gates were opened the garrison sallied out. The Duke of Parma had an interview with several of the leaders, and expressed his high admiration of the valor with which they had fought, and said that the siege of Sluys had cost him more men than he had lost in the four prin cipal sieges he had undertaken in the Low Country put together. On the 4th of August the duke entered Sluye in triumph, and at once began to make preparations to 96 BY ENGLAND'S AID. take part in the great invasion of England for which Spain was preparing. After their arrival at Flushing Captains Vere, Uvedale, and others, who had brought their companies from Bergen- op-Zoom to aid in .the defense of Sluys, returned to that town. The Earl of Leicester shortly afterwards resigned his appointment as general of the army. He had got on but badly with the States-General, and there was from the first no cordial co-operation between the two armies. The force at his disposal was never strong enough to do any thing against the vastly superior armies of the Duke of Parma, who was one of the most brilliant generals of his age, while he was hampered and thwarted by the intrigues and duplicity of Elizabeth, who was constantly engaged in half-hearted negotiations, now with France and now with Spain, and whose capricious temper was continually overthrowing the best-laid plans of her councilors and paralyzing the actions of her commanders. It was not until she saw her kingdom threatened by invasion that she placed herself fairly at the head of the national movement, and inspired her subjects with her energy and determin ation. Geoffrey Vickars had been somewhat severely wounded upon the last day of the struggle in the cellar, a Spanish officer having beaten down his guard and cleft through his morion. Lionel was unwounded, but the fatigue and ex citement had told upon him greatly, and soon after they arrived at Bergen, Captain Vere advised both of them to return home for a few months. " There is nothing likely to be doing here until the spring. Parma has more serious matters in hand. They talk, you know, of invading England, and after his ex perience at Sluys I do not think he will be wasting his force by knocking their heads against stone walls. I should be glad if I could return too, but I have my com- B T ENGLA ND'S AID. P7 pany to look after and must remain where I am ordered ; but as you are but volunteers and giving your service at Vbur pleasure, and are not regularly upon the list of the pages of the company, I can undertake to grant you leave, and indeed I can see that you both greatly need rest. You have begun well and have both done good service, and have been twice thanked by the governor of Sluys and Sir Eoger Williams, " You will do yourselves no good by being shut up through the winter in this dull town, and as there is a vessel lying by the quay which is to set sail to-morrow. I think you cannot do better than go in her. I will give you letters to my cousin and your father saying how well you have borne yourselves, and how mightily Sir Eoger Williams was pleased with you. In the spring you can rejoin, unless indeed the Spaniards should land in Eng land, which Heaven forfend, in which case you will prob ably prefer to ride under my cousin's banner at home." The boys gladly accepted Francis Vere's proposal. It was but three months since they had set foot in Holland, but they had gone through a tremendous experience, and the thought of being shut up for eight or nine months at Bergen-op-Zoom was by no means a pleasant one. Both felt worn-out and exhausted, and longed for the fresh keen air of the eastern coast. Therefore the next morn ing they embarked on board ship. Ca.ptain Vere presented them each with a handsome brace of pistols in token of his regard, and Captains Uvedale, Baskerville, and other officers who were intimate friends of Vere's, and had met them at his quarters, gave them handsome presents in recognition of the services they had rendered at Sluys. The ship was bound for Harwich, which was the nearest English port. Landing there, they took passage by boat to Manningtree and thence by horse home, where they astounded their father and mother by their sudden ap pearance. 7 9h BY ENGLAND'S AID. " And this is what comes of your soldiering," Mrs. Tick- are said when the first greeting was over. " Here is Geoffrey with plasters all over the side of his head, and yon, Lionel, looking as pale and thin as if you had gone through a long illness. I told your father when we heard of your going that you ought to be brought back and whipped ; but the earl talked him over into writing to Captain Fraijcis to tell him that he approved of this mad- brained business, and a nice affair it has turned out." " You will not have to complain of our looks, mother, at the end of a week or two," Geoffrey said. " My wound is healing fast, and Lionel only needs an extra amount of sleep for a time. You see, for nearly a month we were never in bed, but just lay down to sleep by the side of Captain Vere on the top of the ramparts, where we had been fighting all day." 11 It was a gallant defense," Mr. Vickars said, "and all England is talking of it. It was wonderful that 800 Eng lish and as many Dutchmen should hold a weak place for two months against full twelve times their number of Spaniards, led by the Duke of Parma himself, and there is great honor for all who took part in the defense. The governor and Sir Roger Williams especially mentioned Francis Vere as among the bravest and best of their cap tains, and although you as pages can have had naught to do with the fighting, you will have credit as serving under his banner." "I think, father," Geoffrey said, touching the plasters on his head, "this looks somewhat as if we had had some thing to do with the fighting, and here is a letter for you from Captain Vere which will give you some information about it." Mr. Vickars adjusted his horn spectacles on his face and opened the letter. It began : " My dear Master and Friend, I have had no means of writing to you since your letter came to me, haring had B Y ENGLAND ' 5 A ID. 9C other matters in hand, and being cut off from all communi cation with England. I was glad to find that you did not take amiss my carrying off of your sons. Indeed that action has turned out more happily than might have been ex pected, for I own that they were but young for such rough service. '' However, they have proved themselves valiant young gentlemen. They fought stoutly by my side during our long tussle with the Spaniards, and more than once saved my life by ridding me of foes who would have taken me at a disadvantage. Once, indeed, when I was down from a blow on the pate from a Spanish axe, they rushed forward and kept my assailants at bay until rescue came. They discovered a plot between a traitor in the town and the Spaniards, and succeeded in defeating his plans and bring ing him to justice. "They were also the means of preventing the Spaniards from breaking into the great wine-cellars and capturing the warehouses, and for each of these services they re ceived the thanks of the Dutch governor and of Sir Roger Williams, our leader. Thus, you see, although so young they have distinguished themselves mightily, and should aught befall me, there are many among my friends who will gladly take them under their protection and push them forward. I have sent them home for a time to have quiet and rest, which they need after their exertions, and have done this the more willingly since there is no chance of fighting for many months to come. I hope that before the Spaniards again advance against us I may have them by my side." " Well, well, this is wonderful." Mrs. Vickars said when her husband had finished reading the letter. " If they had told me themselves I should not have believed them, although they have never been given to the sin of lying ; but since it is writ in Master Vere's own hand it cannot be doubted. And now tell us all about it, boys." 100 B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. " We will tell you when we have had dinner, mother. This brisk Essex air has given us both an appetite, and until that is satisfied you must excuse us telling a long story. Is the earl at the castle, father ? because we have two letters to him from Captain Francis one, I believe, touching our affairs, and the other on private matters. We have also letters from him to his mother and his brother John, and these we had better send off at once oy a messenger, as also the private letters to the earl.'' " That I will take myself," Mr. Yickars said. " I was just going up to him to speak about my parish affairs when you arrived." " You had better have your dinner first," Mrs. Yickars said decidedly. " When you once get with the earl and begin talking you lose all account of the time, and only last week kept dinner waiting for two hours. It is half- past eleven now, and I will hurry it on so that it will be ready a few minutes before noon." 1 ' Very well, my dear ; but I will go out into the village at once and find a messenger to despatch to Cropping Hall with the letters to Dame Elizabeth and John Yere." The boys' story was not told until after supper, for as soon as dinner was over Mr. Yickars went up to the castle with the letters for the earl. The latter, after reading them, told him that his cousin spoke most highly of his two sons, and said they had been of great service, even as far as the saving of his life. The earl told Mr. Yickars to bring the boys up next day to see him, in order that he might learn a full account of the fighting at Sluys, and that he hoped they would very often come in, and would, while they were at home, practice daily with his master of arms at the castle. " I know, Mr. Yickars, that you had hoped that one of them would enter the church ; but you see that their tastes lie not in that direction, and it is evident that, as in the case of my cousin Francis, they are cut out for soldiers." BY ENGLAND'S AID. 101 " I am afraid so," Mr. Vickars said ; " and I must let them have their own way, for I hold that none should be forced to follow the ministry save those whose natural bent lies that way." " I don't think they have chosen badly," the earl said. " My cousin Francis bids fair to make a great soldier, and as they start in life as his pages they will have every chance of getting on, and I warrant me that Francis will push their fortunes. Perhaps I may be able to aid them some what myself. If aught comes of this vaporing of the Spaniards, before the boys return to Holland, they shall ride with me. I am already arming all the tenantry and having them practiced in warlike exercises, and in the spring I shall fit out two ships at Harwich to join the fleet that will put to sea should the Spaniards carry out their threats of invading us." 102 SY ENGLAND S AID. CHAPTER VI. THE LOSS OF THE " SUSAN." THREE were few people in Hedingham more pleased to see the two lads on their return than John Lirriper, to whom they paid a visit on the first day they went out. *' I am glad to see you back, young masters ; though, to say the truth, you are not looking nigh so strong and well as you did when I last parted from you." " We shall soon be all right again, John. We have had rather a rough time of it over there in Sluys." " Ah, so I have heard tell, Master Geoffrey. Your father read out from the pulpit a letter the earl had re ceived from Captain Francis telling about the fighting, and it mentioned that you were both alive and well and had done good service ; but it was only a short letter sent off in haste the day after he and the others had got out of the town. I was right glad when I heard it, I can tell you, for there had been naught talked of here but the siege ; and though your lady mother has not said much to me, I always held myself ready to slip round the corner or into a house when I saw her come down the street, for I knew well enough what was in her mind. She was just saying to herself, ' John Lirriper, if it hadn't been for you my two boys would not be in peril now. If aught comes to them, it will be your doing.' And though it was not my fault, as far as I could see, for Captain Francis took you off my hands, as it were, and I had no more to say in the matter than a child, still, there it was, and right glad S Y ENGLAND ' 5 AID. 1 03 wai . v/hen I heard that the siege was over and you were both alive. " I had a bad time of it, I can tell you, when I first got back, young sirs, for your mother rated me finely ; and though your father said it was not my fault in any way, she would not listen to him, but said she had given you into my charge, and that I had no right to hand you over to any others save with your father's permission not if it were to the earl himself ,- and for a long time after she would make as if she didn't see me if she met me in the street. When my wife was ill about that time she sent down broths and simples to her, but she sent them by one of the maids, and never came herself save when she knew I was away in my boat. "However, the day after the reading of that letter she came in and said she was sorry she had treated me hardly, and that she had known at heart all along that it was not altogether my fault, and asked my pardon as nice as if I had been the earl. Of course I said there was nothing to ask pardon for, and indeed that I thought it was only natural she should have blamed me, for that I had often blamed myself, though not seeing how I could have done otherwise. However, I was right glad when the matter was made up, for it is not pleasant for a man when the parson's wife sets herself against him." "It was certainly hard upon you, John," Geoffrey said ; " but I am sure our mother does not in any way blame you now. You see, we brought home letters from Captain Vere, or rather Sir Francis, for he has been knighted now, and he was good enough to speak very kindly of what we were able to do in the siege. Mother did not say much, but I am sure that at heart she is very grateful, for the earl himself came down to the Rectory and spoke warmly about us, and said that he should al ways be our fast friend, because we had given his cousin some help when he was roughly pressed by the Spaniards. 104 BY ENGLAND 1 S AID. I hope we shall have another sail with you in a short time, for we are not going back to the Netherlands at present, as things are likely to be quiet there now. Although he did not say so, I think Sir Francis chought that we were over-young for such rough work, and would be more use ful in a year's time ; for, you see, in these sieges even pages have to take their share in the fighting, and when it comes to push of pike with the Spaniards more strength and vigor are needed than we possess at present. So we are to continue our practice at arms at the castle, and to take part in the drilling of the companies the earl is raising in case the Spaniards carry out their threat of invading Eng land/' Mrs. Vickars offered no objection whatever the first time Geoffrey -sked permission to go down to Bricklesey with John Lirriper. " I have no objection, Geoffrey ; and, indeed, now that you have chosen your own lives and are pages to Sir Francis Vere, it seems to me that in matters of this kind you can judge for yourself. Now that you have taken to soldiering and have borne your part in a great siege, and have even yourselves fought with the Spaniards, I deem it that you have got beyond my wing, and must now act in all small matters as it pleases you ; and that since you have already run great danger of your lives, and may do so again ere long, it would be folly of me to try to keep you at my apron-strings and to treat you as if you were still children/' So the two lads often accompanied John Lirriper to Bricklesey, and twice sailed up the river to London and back in Joe Chambers' smack, these jaunts furnishing a pleasant change to their work of practicing with pike and sword with the men-at-arms at the castle, or learning the words Of command and the work of officers in drilling the newly-raised corps. One day John Lirriper told them that his nerhew was this time going to sail up the Medway B F ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 105 to Rochester, and would be glad to take them with him if they liked it ; fo. they were by this time prime favorites . with the master of the Susan. Although their mother had told them that they wer. at liberty to go as they pleased, they neverthelers r.lways made a point of asking permission befor^ they went away. " If the wind is fair we shall net be long away on tint trip, mother. Two days will take us up to Eochester ; we shall be a day loading there, and shall therefore be back on Saturday if the wind serves, and may even be sooner if the weather is fine and we sail with the night tides, as likely enough we shall, for the moon is nearly full, and there will be plenty of light to keep our course free of the sands." The permission was readily given. Mrs. Vickars had come to see that it was useless to worry over small matters, and therefore nodded cheerfully, and said she would give orders at once for a couple of chickens to be killed and other provision prepared for their voyage. " I doubt you are going to have a rougher voyage than usual this time, young masters," John Lirriper said when the boat was approaching Bricklesey. " The sky looks wild, and I think there is going to be a break in the weather. However, the Susan is a stout boat, and my nephew a careful navigator." " I should like a rough voyage for a change, John," Geoffrey said. " We have always had still water and light winds on our trips, and I should like a good blow." " Well, I think you will have one ; though may be it will only come on thick and wet. Still I think there is wind in those clouds, and that if it does come it will be from the southeast, in which case you will have a sharp buffeting. But you will make good passage enough down to the Nore once you are fairly round the Whittaker." " Glad to see you, young masters," Joe Chambers said as the boat *o.me alongside his craft. " You often BY ENGLAND'S AID. grumbled at the light winds, but unless I am mistaken wa shall be carrying double reefs this journey. What do you think, Uncle John?" " I have been saying the same, lad ; still there is no saying. You will know more about it in a few hours' time." It was evening when the boys went on board the Susan, and as soon as supper was over they lay down, as she was to start at daybreak the next morning. As soon as they were roused by the creaking of the blocks and the sound of trampling of feet overhead they went up on deck. Day had just broken ; the sky was overspread by dark clouds. " There is not much wind after all/' Geoffrey said as he looked round. " No, it has fallen light during the last two hours/' the skipper replied, " but I expect we shall have plenty before long. However, we could do with a little more now." Tide was half out when they started. Joe Chambers had said the night before that he intended to drop down to the edge of the sands and there anchor, and to make across them past the Whittaker Beacon in*o the channel as soon as there was sufficient water to enable him to do so. The wind was light, sometimes scarcely sufficient to belly out the sails and give the boat steerage way, at others coming in short puffs which heeled her over and made her spring forward merrily. Before long the wind fell lighter and lighter, and at last Joe Chambers ordered the oars to be got out. " We must get down to the edge of ths Buxey/'he said ? " before the tide turns, or we shall have it against us, and with this wind we should never be able to stem it, but should be swept up the Crouch. At present it is helping us, and with a couple of hours' rowing we may save it ta the Buxey." The boys helped at the sweeps, and for two hours the creaking of the oars and the dull napping of the sail alone broke the silence of the calm ; and the lads were by no B Y ENGLAND ' S AID. 107 means sorry when the skipper gave the order for the anchor to be dropped. "I should like to have got about half a mile further/* he said ; " but I can see by the landmarks that we are making no way now. The tide is beginning to suck in." " How long will it be before we have water enough tc cross the Spit ? " Lionel asked as they laid in the oars. " Well nigh four hours, Master Lionel. Then, even ii it keeps a stark calm like this, we shall be able to get across the sands and a mile or two up the channel before we meet the tide. There we must anchor again till the first strength is past, and then if the wind springs up we can work along at the edge of the sands against it. There is no tide close in to the sands after the first two hours. But I still think this is going to turn into wind presently ; and if it does it will be sharp and heavy, I warrant. It's either that or rain." The sky grew darker and darker until the water looked almost black under a leaden canopy. " I wish we were back into Bricklesey," Joe Chambers said. " I have been well-nigh fifteen years going back wards and forwards here, and I do not know that ever I saw an awkwarder look about the sky. It reminds me of what I have heard men who have sailed to the Indies say they have seen there before a hurricane breaks. If it was not that we saw the clouds flying fast overhead when we started, 1 should have said it was a thick sea fog that had rolled in upon us. Ah, there is the first drop. I don't care how hard it comes down so that there is not wind at the tail of it. A squall of wind before rain is soon over ; but when it follows rain you will soon have your sails close-reefed. You had best go below or you will be wet through in a minute/' The great drops were pattering down on the deck and causing splashes as of ink on the surface of the oily-look ing water. Another half minute it was pouring with such 108 ST ENGLAND'S All!. a mighty roar on the deck that the hoys below needed to shout to make each other heard. It lasted but fire minutes, and then stopped as suddenly as it began. The lads at once returned to the deck. " So it is all over, Master Chambers/' " Well the first part is over, but that is only a sort of a beginning. Look at that light under the clouds away to the south of east. That is where it is coming from, unless I am mistaken. Turn to and get the mainsail down, lads," for although after dropping anchor the head sails had been lowered, the main and mizzeii were still on her. The men set to work, and the boys helped to stow the sail and fasten it with the tiers. Suddenly there was a sharp puff of wind. It lasted a few seconds only, tlien Joe Chambers pointed towards the spot whence a haxy light seemed to come. "Here it comes/" ue said. "Do you see that line of white water. That is a squall and no mistake. I am glad we are not under sail." Thero was a sharp, hissing sound as the line of white water approached them, and then the squall struck them with such force and fury that the lads instinctively grasped at the shrouds. The mizzen had brought the craft in a moment head-to-wind, and Joe Chambers and the two sailors at once lowered it and stowed it away. "Only put a couple of tiers on/' the skipper shouted. " We may have to upsail again if this goes on." The sea got up with great rapidity, and a few minutes after the squull had struck them the Susan was beginning to pitch heavily. The wind increased in force, and seemed to scream rather than whistle in the rigging. "The sea is getting up fast ! " Geoffrey shouted in the skipper's ear as he took his place close to him. " It won't be very heavy yet/' Joe Chambers replied ; " the sands break its force. But the tide has turned now, and as it makes over the sand there will be a tremendous SY ENGLAND'S AID. 109 ea here in no time ; that is if this wind holds, and it seems JDO me that it is going to be an unusual gale altogether." " How long will it be before we can cross the Spit ? " " We are not going to cross to-day, that's certain/' the skipper said. " There will be a sea over those sands that would knock the life out of the strongest craft that ever floated. No, I shall wait here for another hour or two if I can, and then slip my cable and run for the Crouch. It is a narrow channel, and I never care about going into it after dark until there is water enough for a craft of our draught over the sands. It ain't night now, but it is well nigh as dark. There is no making out the bearings of the land, and we have got to trust to the perches the fishermen put up at the bends of the channel. However, we have got to try it. Our anchors would never hold here when the sea gets over the sands, and if they did they would pull her head under water." In hal' an hour a sea had got up that seemed to the boys tremend us. Dark a*> it was they could see in various direc tions tra'ts of whi'e -rater where the waves broke wildly over the sands. The second anchor had been let go some time before. The two cables were as taut as iron bars, and the boat was pulling her bows under every sea. Joe Chambers dropped a lead-line overboard and watched it closely. "We are dragging our anchors/' he said. "There is nothing for it but to run." He went to the bow, fastened two logs of wood by long lines to the cables outside the bow, so that he could find and recover the anchors on his return, then a very small jib was hoisted, and as it filled two blows with an axe sev ered the cables inboard. The logs attached to them were thrown over, and the skipper ran aft and put up the helm as the boat's head payed off before the wind. As she did so a wave struck her and threw tons of water on board, fill ing her deck nearly up to the rails. It was well Joe had 110 B T ENGLAND ' S AID. shouted to the boys to hold on, for had they not done so they would hare been swept overboard. Another wave struck them before they were fairly round, smashing in the bulwark and sweeping everything before it, and the boys both thought that the Susan was sinking under their feet. However, she recovered herself. The water poured out through the broken bulwark, and the boat rose again on the waves as they swept one after another down upon her stern. The channel was well marked now, for the sands on either side were covered with breaking water. Joe Chambers shouted to the sailors to close-reef the mizzen and hoist it, so that he might have the boat better under control. The wind was not directly astern but somewhat on the quarter ; and small as was the amount of sail shown, the boat lay over till her lee-rail was at times under water ; the following waves yawing her about so much that it needed the most careful steering to prevent her from broaching to. " It seems to me as the wind is northering ! " one of the men shouted. The skipper nodded and slackened out the sheet a bit as the wind came more astern. He kept his eyes fixed ahead of him, and the men kept gazing through the gloom. " There is the perch," one of them shouted presently, * just on her weather-bow ! " The skipper nodded and held on the same course until abreast of the perch, which was only a forked stick. The men came aft and hauled in the mizzen sheet. Chambers put up the helm. The mizzen came across with a jerk, and the sheet was again allowed to run out. The jib came over with a report like the shot of a cannon, and at the same moment split into streamers. " Hoist the foresail ! " the skipper shouted, and the men sprang forward and seized the halliards ; but at this mo ment the wind seemed to blow with a double fury, and the moment the sail was set it too split into ribbons. BY ENGLAND'S AID. Ill " Get up another jib ! " Joe Chambers shouted, and one of the men sprang below. In half a minute he reappeared with another sail. "Up with it quick, Bill. We are drifting bodily down on the sand." Bill hurried forward. The other hand had hauled in the traveler, to which the bolt-rope of the jib was still at tached, and hauling on this had got the block down and in readiness for fastening on the new jib. The sheets were hooked on, and then while one hand ran the sail out with the out-haul to the bowsprit end, the other hoisted with the halliards. By this time the boat was close to the broken water. As the sail filled her head payed off towards it. The wind lay her right over, and before she could gather way there was a tremendous crash. The Susan had struck on the sands. The next wave lifted her, but as it passed on she came down with a crash that seemed to shake her in pieces. Joe Chambers relaxed his grasp of the now useless tiller. " It is all over," he said to the boys. " Nothing can save her now. If she had been her own length farther off the sands she would have gathered way in time. As it is another ten minutes and she will be in splinters." She was now lying over until her masthead was but a few feet above water. The seas were striking her with tremen dous force, pouring a deluge of water over her. " There is but one chance for you," he went on. " The wind is dead on the shore, and Foulness lies scarce three miles to leeward." He went into the cabin and fetched out a small axe fast ened in the companion where it was within reach of the helmsman. Two blows cut the shrouds of the mizzen, a few vigorous strokes were given to the foot of the mast, and, as the boat lifted and crashed down again on the sand, it broke off a few inches above the deck. " Now, lads, I will lash you loosely to this. You can 112 BY ENGLAND'S AID. both swim, and with what aid it will give you may well reach the shore. There are scarce three feet of water here, and except where one or two deeps pass across it there is no more anywhere between this and the land. It will not be rough very far. Now, be off at once ; the boat will go to pieces before many minutes. I and the two men will take to the mainmast, but I want to see you off first." Without hesitation the boys pushed off with the mast. As they did so a cataract of water poured over the smack upon them, knocking them for a moment under the sur face with its force. For the next few minutes it was a wild struggle for life. They found at once that they were powerless to swim in the broken water, which, as it rushed across the sand, impelled alike by the rising tide behind it and the force of the wind, hurried them along at a rapid pace, breaking in short steep waves. They could only cling to the mast and snatch a breath of air from time to time as it rolled over and over. Had they not been able to swim they would very speedily have been drowned ; but, accustomed as they were to diving, they kept their presence of mind, holding their breath when under water and breathing whenever they were above it with their faces to the land. It was only so that they could breathe, for the air was thick with spray, which was swept along with such force by the wind that it would have drowned the best swimmer who tried to face it as speedily as if he had been under water. After what seemed to them an age the waves became somewhat less violent, though still breaking in a mass of foam. Geoffrey loosed his hold of the spar and tried to get to his feet. He was knocked down several times before he succeeded, but when he did so found that he water was little more than two feet deep, although the waves rose to his shoulders. The soft mud under his feet rendered it extremely difficult to stand, and the rope which attached him to the spar, which was driving before him, added to THE NEXT FEW MINUTES IT WAS A WILD STRUGGLE FOR LIFE. Pag* xx* En*. AM.] BY ENGLAND'S AID. 113 the difficulty. Ho could not overtake the mast, and threw himself down again and swam to it. " Get up, Lionel ! " he shouted ; " we can stand here." But Lionel was too exhausted to be capable of making the effort. With the greatest difficulty Geoffrey raised him to his feet and supported him with his back to the wind. " Get your breath again !" he shouted. " We are over the worst now and shall soon be in calmer water. Get your feet well out in front of you, if yon can, and dig your heels into the mud, then you will act as a buttress to me and help me to keep my feet." It was two or three minutes before Lionel was able to speak. Even during this short time they had been carried some distance forward, for the ground on which they stood seemed to be moving, and the force of the waves carried them constantly forward. " Feel better, old fellow ?" Geoffrey asked, as he felt Lionel making an effort to resist the pressure of the water. "Yes, I am better now," Lionel said. " Well, we will go on as we are as long as we can ; let us just try to keep our feet and give way to the sea as it takes us along. The quicker we go the sooner we shall be in shallower water ; but the tide is rising fast, and unless we go on it will speedily be as bad here as it was where we started." As soon as Lionel had sufficiently recovered they again took to the spar ; but now, instead of clasping it with their arms and legs, they lay with their chest upon it, and used their efforts only to keep it going before the wind and tide. Once they came to a point where the sand was but a few inches under water. Here they stood up for some minutes, and then again proceeded on foot until the water deepened to their waists. Their progress was now much more easy, for the high bank had broken the run of the surf. The water beyond 8 114 B T ENGLAND ' 5 AID. it was much smoother, and they were able to swim, push ing the spar before thorn. "'We are in. deep water," Geoffrey said presently, drop ping his feet. "It is out of 1113- depth. Chambers said there was a deep channel across the sands not far i'rorn the island ; so in that case the shore cannot be far array.'*' In another quarter of an hour the water was again waist- deep. Geoffrey stood up. ' I think I see a dark line ahead, Lic:id ; we shall soon be there." Another ten minutes and the water was not above their knees. They could see the low shore now at a distance of but a few hundred yards ahead and untying the ropes under their arms they let the spar drift on, and waded for ward until they reached the hind. There was a long mud bank yet to cross, and exhausted as they were it took them a long time to do this ; but at last they came to a sandy bank rising sharply some ten feet above the flat. They threw themselves down on this and lay for half an hour without a word being spoken. "Now, Lionel," Geoffrey said at last, raising himself to a sitting position, " we must make an effort to get on and find a shelter. There are people living in the bland. I have heard that they are a wild set, making their living by the wrecks on these sands and by smuggling goods without paying dues to the queen. Still, they will not refuse us shelter and food, and assuredly there is nothing on us to tempt them to plunder us." He rose to his feet and helped Lionel up. Once on the top of the bank a level country stretched before them. The wind aided their footsteps, sweeping along with such tremendous force that at times they had difficulty in keep ing their feet. As they went on they came upon patches of cultivated land, with hedgerows and deep ditches. Half a mile further they perceived a house. On approach ing it they saw that it was a low structure of some size BY ENGLAND'S AID. 115 with several out-buildings. They made their way to it aud knocked :it the door. They knocked twice before it was opened, then some bolts were withdrawn. The door was opened a few inches. A man looked out, and seeing two lads opened it widely. " Well, who are you, and what do you want ? " he asked roughly. " We have been wrecked in a storm on the sands. We were sailing from Bricklesey for Sheerness when the storm caught us." The man looked at them closely. Their pale faces and evidently exhausted condition vouched for the truth of their story. " The house is full," he said gruffly, " and I cannot take in strangers. You will find some dry hay in that out house, and I will bring you some food there. When you have eaten and drunk you had best journey on." So saying he shut the door in their faces. " This is strange treatment," Geoffrey said. "I should not have thought a man would have refused shelter to a dog such a day as this. What do you say, Lionel, shall we go on ? " "I don't think I can go any further until I have rested, Geoffrey," Lionel replied faintly. " Let us lie down in 'shelter if it is only for half an hour. After that, if the man brings us some food as he says, we can go on again. " They went into the shed the man had pointed out. It was half full of hay. "Let us take our things off and wring them, Lionel, and give ourselves a roll in the hay to dry ourselves. We shall soon get warm after that." They stripped, wrung the water from their clothes, rolled themselves in the hay until they felt a glow of returning warmth, and then put on their clothes again. Scarcely had they done so when the man came in with a large tankard and two hunks of bread. 116 BY ENGLAND'S AID. " Here," he said, " drink this and then be off. We want no strangers hanging round here/' At any other time the boys would have refused hospit ality so cheerlessly offered, but they were too weak to resist the temptation. The tankard contained hot-spiced ale, and a sensation of warmth and comfort stole over them as soon as they had drunk its contents and catena few mouth- f uls of bread. The man stood by them while they ate. " Are you the only ones saved from the wreck ? " he asked. "I trust that we are not," Geoffrey replied. "The master of the boat tied us to a mast as soon as she struck, and he and the two men with him were going to try to get to shore in the same way." As soon as they had finished they stood up and handed the tankard to the man. " I am sorry I must turn you out," he said, as if some what ashamed of his want of courtesy. " Any other day it would be different, but to-day I cannot take anyone in." "I thank you for what you have given us," Geoffrey said. " Can you tell us which is the way to the ferry ?" " Follow the road and it will take you there. About a couple of miles. You cannot mistake the way." Feeling greatly strengthened and refreshed the lads again started. " This is a curious affair," Geoffrey said, " and I cannot make out why they should not let us in. However, it does not matter muck. I feel warm all over now, in spite of my wet clothes." " So do I," Lionel agreed. " Perhaps there were smug glers inside, or some fugitives from justice hiding there. Anyhow, I am thankful for that warm ale ; it seems to have given me new life altogether." They had walked a quarter of a mile, when they saw four horsemen coming on the road They were closely wrapped up in cloaks, and as they passed, with their heads bent BY ENGLAND* 9 AID. 117 down to meet the force of the gale and their broad-brimmed hats pulled low down over their eyes, the boys did not get fcven a glimpse of their features. " I wonder who they can be/' Geoffrey said, looking after them. " They are very well mounted, and look like persons of some degree. What on earth can they be doing in such a wretched place as this ? They must be going to that house we left, for I noticed the road stopped there." " It is curious, Geoffrey, but it is no business of ours." " I don't know that, Lionel. You know there are all sorts of rumors about of Papist plots, and conspirators could hardly choose a more out-of-the-way spot than this to hold their meetings. I should not be at all surprised if there is some mischief on foot." Half a mile further three men on foot met them, and these like the others, were closely wrapped up to the eyes. " They have ridden here," Geoffrey said after they had passed. " They have all high riding-boots on ; they must have left their horses on the other side of the ferry. See, there is a village a short distance ahead. We will go in there and dry our clothes and have a substantial meal if we can get it. Then we will talk this business over." The village consisted of a dozen houses only, but among them was a small public house. Several men were sitting by the fire with pots of ale before them. " We have been wrecked on the coast, landlord, and have barely escaped with our lives. We want to dry our clothes and to have what food you can give us." "I have plenty of eggs," the landlord said, "and my wife will fry them for you : but we have no meat in the house. Fish and eggs are the chief food here. You aro lucky in getting ashore, for it is a terrible gale. It is years since we have had one like it. As to drying your clothes, that can be managed easy enough. You can go up into my room and take them off, and I will lend you a couple of 118 BY ENGLAND ' S AID. blankets to wrap yourselves in, and you can sit by the fir* here until your things are dry." A hearty meal of fried eggs and another drink of hot ale completed the restoration of the boys. Their clothes were speedily dried, for the landlady had just finished baking her week's batch of bread, and half an hour in the oven completely dried their clothes. They were ready almost as soon as the meal was finished. Many questions were asked them as to the wreck, and the point at which they had been cast ashore. " It was but a short distance from a house at the end of this road," Geoffrey said. " We went there for shelter, but they would not take us in, though they gave us some bread and hot ale." Exclamations of indignation were heard among the men sitting round. "Kalph Hawker has the name of being a surly man," one said, " but I should not have thought that he would have turned a shipwrecked man from his door on such a day as this. They say he is a Papist, though whether he be or not I cannot say ; but he has strange ways, and there is many a stranger passes the ferry and asks for his house. However, that is no affair of mine, though I hold there is no good in secret ways." '' That is so," another said ; "but it goes beyond all reason for a man to refuse shelter to those the sea has cast ashore such a day as this. As soon as they had finished their meal and again dressed themselves, the lads paid their reckoning and went out. Scarcely had they done so when two horsemen rode up, and, drawing rein, inquired if they were going right for the house of one Ralph Hawker. "It lies about a mile on," Geoffrey said. " You cannot misci the way ; the road ends there." As he spoke a gust of wind of extra fury blew off one oi the rider's hats. It was stopped by the wall of a house a BY ENGLAND'S AID. US few yards away. Geoffrey caught it and handed it to the ^horseman. With a word of thanks he pressed it firmly CL his head, and the two men rode on. "Did you notice that?" Geoffrey asked his brother. ' He has a shaven spot on the top of his head. The man is a Papist priest in disguise. There is something afoot, Lionel. I vote that we try and get to the bottom of it/' " I am ready if you think so, Geoffrey. But it is a haz ardous business, you know ; for we are unarmed, and there are we know, seven or eight of them at any rate." ' ' We must risk that/' Geoffrey said ; " besides, we can run if we cannot fight. Let us have a try whatever comes of it/' 120 B T ENGLAND ' 3 CHAPTER VII. A POPISH PLOT. THERE was no one about, for the wind was blowing with such fury that few cared to venture out of doors, and th* boys therefore started back along the road by which they had come, without being observed. " We had better strike off from the road," Geoffrey said, " for some more of these men may be coming along. Like enough someone will be on the watch at the house, so we had best make a long detour, and when we get near it come down on it from the other side. You know we saw no windows there." "That is all well enough," Lionel agreed; "but the question is, how are we to hear what they are saying in side ? We are obliged to shout to catch each other's words now, and there is not the least chance of our hearing any thing through the closed shutters." "We must wait till we get there, and then see what is to be done, Lionel. We managed to detect a plot at Sluys, and we may have the same luck here." After half an hour's brisk walking they again approached the house from the side at which they had before come upon it, and where, as Geoffrey observed, there were no windows ; they made their way cautiously up to it, and then moved quietly round to the side. Here there were two windows on the ground floor. The shutters were closed, for glass was unknown except in the houses of the comparatively wealthy. Its place was taken by oiled BY ENGLAND'S AID. 121 paper, and this in bad weather was protected by outei shutters. Geoffrey stole out a few paces to look at the window above. " It is evidently a loft/' he said as he rejoined Lionel. " You can see by the roof that the rooms they live in are entirely upon the ground floor. If we can get in there we might possibly hear what is going on below. The rooms are not likely to be ceiled, and there are sure to be cracks between the planks through which we can see what is go ing on below. The noise of the wind is so great there is little chance of their hearing us. Now, let us look about for something to help us to climb up." Lying by an out-house close by they found a rough ladder, composed of a single pole with bits of wood nailed on to it a foot apart. This they placed up against the door of the loft. They could see that this was fastened only by a hasp, with a piece of wood put through the staple. It had been arranged that Geoffrey only should go up, Lionel removing the pole when he entered, and keeping watch behind the out-house lest anyone should come round the house. Both had cut heavy sticks as they came along to give them some means of defense. Lionel stood at the pole, while Geoffrey climbed up, removed the piece of wood from the staple, and then holding the hasp to prevent the wind blowing in the door with a crash, entered the loft. A glance showed him that it extended over the whole of the house, and that it was entirely empty. He closed the door behind him, and jammed it with a couple of wedges of wood he had cut before mounting ; then he lay down on the rough planks and began to crawl along. lie saw a gleam of light at the further end, and felt sure that it proceeded from the room in which the party were assembled. Although he had little fear of be- iug heard owing to the din kept up by the wind, he moved along with extreme care until he reached the spot whence the light proceeded. As he had anticipated, it was caused 1 22 B T ENGLAND ' S A ID. by lights in a room below streaming through the cracks between the rough planking. Rising on to his knees he looked round, and then crawled to a crack that appeared much wider than the rest, the boards being more than half an inch apart. Lying down over it, he was able to obtain a view of a portion of the room below. He could see a part of a long table, and looked down upon the heads of five men sitting on one side of it. He now applied his ears to the crevice. A man was speaking, and in the intervals between the gusts of wind which shook the house to its foundation, he could hear what was said. " It is no use hesitating any longer, the time for action has arrived Jezebel must be removed interests of our holy religion little danger in carrying out the plan that has been proposed. Next time Windsor road passes through wood near Datchet a weak guard overpowered two told off to execute free England from tyranny glory and honor throughout Catholic world. England dis organized and without a head could offer no resistance as soon as day fixed meet at Staines at house of final de tails and share each man is to done, scatter through country, readiness for rising Philip of Spain '' This was the last sentence Geoffrey caught, for when the speaker ceased a confused and general talk took place, and he could only catch a word here and there without meaning or connection. He therefore drew quietly back to the door of the loft and opened it. He thought first of jumping straight down, but in that case he could not have fastened the door behind him. He therefore made a sign to Lionel, who was anxiously peering round the corner of the out-house. The pole was placed into position, and pulling the door after him and refasteniug the latch he made his way down to the ground, replaced the pole at the place from which they had taken it, and then retired in the direction from which they had come. B Y ENGL^yi) ' S AID. 123 " Well, what have you heard, Geoffrey ? " Lionel asked. " Was it worth the risk you have run ?" * " Well worth it, Lionel. I could only hear a little of wluit was said, but that was quite enough to show that a plot is on foot to attack and kill the queen the next time she journeys to Windsor. The conspirators are to hide in a wood near Datchet." ' ' You don't say so, Geoffrey. That is important news indeed. What are we to do next ? " *" I have not thought yet," Geoffrey replied. " I should say, though, our best plan would be to make our way back as quickly as we can by Burnham and Maldon round to Hedingham. The earl was going up to London one day this week, we may catch him before he starts ; if not, we must, of course, follow him. But at any rate it is best to go home, for they will be in a terrible fright, especially if Joe Chambers or one of the men take the news to Brick- lesey of the loss of the Susan, for it would be quickly carried up to Hedingham by John Lirriper or one or other of the boatmen. No day seems to be fixed, and the queen may not be going to Windsor for some little time, so the loss of a day will not make any difference. As we have money in our pockets we can hire horses at Burnham to take us to Maldon, and get others there to carry us home." An hour's walking took them to the ferry. It was now getting dusk, and they had come to the conclusion as they walked that it would be too late to attempt to get on that night beyond Burnham. The storm was as wild as ever, and although the passage was a narrrow one it was as much as the ferryman could do to row the boat across. " How far is it from here to Burnham ?" (f About four miles ; but you won't get to Burnham to night." " How is that ?" Geoffrey asked. " You may get as far as the ferry, but you won't get taken over. There will be a big sea in the Crouch, for BY ENGLAND'S AID. the wind is pretty nigh straight up it ; but you will be able to sleep at the inn this side. In the morning, if the wind has gone down, you can cross ; if not, you will have to go round by the bridge, nigh ten miles higher up." This was unpleasant news. Not that it made any dif ference to them whether they slept on one side of the river or the other, but if the wind was too strong to admit of a passage in the morning, the necessity for making a detour would cost them many hours of valuable time. There was however, no help for it, and they walked to Criksey Ferry. The little inn was crowded, for the ferry had been stopped all day, and many like themselves had been compelled to stop for a lull in the wind. Scarcely had they entered when their names were joy ously shouted out. " Ah, Masters Vickars, right glad am I to see you. We feared that surf had put an end to you. We asked at the ferry, but the man declared that no strange lads had crossed that day, and we were fearing we should have a sad tale to send to Hedingham by John Lirriper." " We are truly glad to see you, Joe/' Geoffrey said, as they warmly shook Joe Chambers and the two sailors by the hand. " flow did you get ashore ? " " On the mainmast, and pretty nigh drowned we were before we got there. I suppose the tide must have taken us a bit further up than it did you, We got here well nigh two hours ago, though we got a good meal and dried our clothes at a farmhouse." " We got a meal, too, soon after we landed," Geoffrey said ; '' but we did not dry our clothes till we got to a little village. I did not ask its name. I am awfully sorry> Joe, about the Susan. ' It is a bad job, but it cannot be helped, Master Geof frey. I owned a third of her, and two traders at Bricklesey own the other shares. Still I have no cause to grumble. I have laid by more than enough in the last four years to buy a share in another boat as good .as she was. You see, S Y ENGL AND ' 3 AID. 125 a trader ain't like a smack. A trader's got only hull raid sails, while a smack has got her nets beside, and they cost well nigh as much as the boat. Thankful enough we are that we have all escaped with our lives ; and now I find you are safe my mind feels at rest over it." " Do you think it will be calm enough to cross in the the morning, Joe ?" " Like enough," the sailor replied ; "a gale like this is like to blow itself out in twenty-four hours. It has been the worst I ever saw. It is not blowing now quite so hard as it did, and by the morning I reckon, though there may be a fresh wind, the gale will be over. The number of travelers were far too great for the ac commodation of the inn ; and with the exception of two or three of the first arrivals all slept on some hay in one of the barns. The next morning, although the wind was still strong, the fury of the gale had abated. The ferryman, however, said the water was so rough he must wait for a time before they crossed. But when Geoffrey offered him a reward to put their party on shore at once, he consented to do so, Joe Chambers and the two sailors assisting with the oars ; and as the ferry-boat was large and strongly built, they crossed without further inconvenience than the wetting of their jackets. Joe Chambers, who knew the town perfectly, at once took them to a place where they were able to hire a couple of horses, and on these rode to Maldon, some nine miles away. Here they procured other horses, and it was not long after midday when they arrived at Hedingham. Mrs. Vickars held up her hands in astonishment at their shrunken garments ; but her relief from the anxiety she had felt concerning what had befallen them during the gale was so great that she was unable to scold. " We will tell you all about it, mother, afterwards/' Geoffrey said, as he released himself from her embrace- 126 B T ENGLAND ' S AID. " We have had a great adventure, and the Susan has been wrecked. But this is not the most important matter. Father, has the earl started yet ? " " He was to have gone this morning, Geoffrey, but the floods are likely to be out, and the roads will be in such a state that I have no doubt he has put off his journey." " It is important that we should see him at once, father. We have overheard some people plotting against the queen's life, and measures must be taken at once for her safety. We will run up and change our things if you will go with us to see him. If you are there he will see you whatever he is doing, while if we go alone there might be delay/' Without waiting for an answer the boys ran upstairs and quickly returned in fresh clothes. Mr. Vickars was wait ing for them with his hat on. " You are quite sure of what you are saying, Geoffrey ?" he observed as they walked towards the castle. " Remem ber, that if it should turn out an error, you are likely to come to sore disgrace instead of receiving commendation for your interference. Everyone has been talking of plots against the queen for some time, and you may well have mistaken the purport of what } r ou have heard. " " There is no mistake, father, it is a real conspiracy, though who are those concerned in it I know not. Lionel and I are not likely to raise a false alarm about nothing, as you will say yourself when you hear the story I have to tell the earl." They had by this time entered the gates of the castle. (r The earl has just finished dinner," one of the attendants replied in answer to the question of Mr. Vickars. " Will you tell him that I wish to see him on urgent business ? " In two or three minutes the servant returned and asked the clergyman to follow him. The earl received him in his private chamber, for the castle was full with guests. " W A U, dominie, what is it ? " he asked. " You want B Y ENGLAND ' S AID. 127 some help, I will be bound, for somebody ill or in distress. I know pretty well by this time the meaning of your nr- *gent business. " It is nothing of that kind to-day/' the clergyman re plied, " it is, in fact, my, sons who wish to see your lord ship. I do not myself know the full purport of their story save that it is something which touches the safety of the queen." The earl's expression at once changed. " Is that so, young sirs ? This is a serious matter, you know ; it is a grave thing to bring an accusation against anyone in matters touching the state." " I am aware that it is, my lord, and assuredly my brother and I would not lightly meddle with such matters ; but I think that you will say this is a business that should be attended to. It happened thus, sir." He then briefly told how, that being out in a ketch that traded from Brick- lesey, they were caught in the gale ; that the vessel was driven on the sands, and they were cast ashore on a mast. He then related the inhospitable reception they had met with. " It seemed strange to us, sir, and contrary to nature, that anyone should refuse to allow two shipwrecked lads to enter the house for shelter on such a day ; and it seemed well-nigh impossible that his tale of the place being too full to hold us could be true. However, we started to walk. On our way we met four horsemen going towards the house, closely muffled up in cloaks." " There was nothing very strange in that," the earl ob served, "in such weather as we had yesterday." " Nothing at all, sir ; we should not have given the mat ter one thought had it not been that the four men were very well mounted, and, apparently, gentlemen ; and it was strange that such should have business in an out-of-the-way house in Foulness Island. A little further we met three men on foot. They were also wrapped up in oloaks ; but they wore high riding-boots, and had probably left their 128 BY ENGLAND'S AID. horses on the other side of the ferry so as not to attract attention. A short time afterwards we met two more horse men, one of whom asked us if he was going right for the house we had been at. As he was speaking a gust of wind blew oil his hat. I fetched it and gave it to him, and as he stooped to put it on I saw that a tonsure was shaven on the top of his head. The matter had already seemed strange to us ; but the fact that one of this number of men, all going to a lonely house, was a priest in disguise, seemed so suspicious that my brother and myself determined to try and get to the bottom of it." Geoffrey then related how they had gone back to the house and effected an entrance into the loft extending over it ; how he had through the cracks in the boards seen a party of men gathered in one of the lower rooms, and then repeated word for Avord the scraps of conversation that he had overheard. The earl had listened with an expression of amused doubt to the early portion of the narrative ; but when Geoffrey came to the part where accident had shown to him that one of these men proceeding towards this house was a disguised priest, his face became serious, and he listened with deep attention to the rest of the narrative. " Faith," he said, " this is a serious matter, and you have done right well in following up your suspicions, and in risking your lives, for they would assuredly have killed you had they discovered you. Mr. Vickars, your sons must ride with me to London at once. The matter is too grave for a moment's dolay. I must lay it before Burleigh at once. A day's delay might be fatal. " He rang a bell standing on the table. As soon as an attendant answered it he said, " Order three horses to be saddled at once ; I must ride to London with these young gentlemen without delay. Order Parsons and Nichols to be ready in half an hour to set out with us. Have you had food, young sirs ? for it seems you came hither directly BY ENGLAND'S AID. 129 you arrived." Finding that the boys had eaten nothing Cilice they had left Maldon, he ordered food to be brought them, and begged them eat it while he explained to the countess and guests that sudden business that could not be delayed called him away to London. Half an hour later he started with the boys, the two servants following behind. Late that evening they arrived in London. It was too late to call on Lord Burleigh that night ; but early the next morning the earl took the boys with him to the house of the great statesman. Leaving them in the ante-chamber he went in to the inner apartment, where the minister Avas at breakfast. Ten minutes later he came out, and called the boys in. " The Earl of Oxford has told me your story/' Lord Bur leigh said. "" Tell it me again, and omit nothing ; for things that seem small are often of consequence in a mat ter like this." Geoffrey again repeated his story, giving full details of all that had taken place from the time of their first reaching the house. Lord Burleigh then questioned him closely as to whether they had seen any of the faces of the men, and would recognize them again. " I saw none from my spying-place above, my lord," Geoffrey said. " I could see only the tops of their heads, and most of them still kept their hats on ; nor did we see them as they passed, with the exception only of the man I supposed to be a priest. His face I saw plainly. It was smooth shaven ; his complexion was dark, his eyebrows were thin and straight, his face narrow. I should take him for a foreigner either a Spaniard or Italian." Lord Bnrleigh made a note of this description. " Thanks, young sirs," he said. "I shall, of course, take measures to prevent this plot being carried out, and shall inform her majesty how bravely you both risked your lives to discover this conspiracy against her person. The 1 30 BY ENGLAND ' 8 AID. Earl of Oxford informs me that you are pages of his cousin. Captain Francis Vere, a very brave and valiant gentleman ; and that you bore your part bravely in the siege oi' Sluys, but are at present at home to rest after your labors there, and have permission of Captain Vere to take part in any trouble that may arise here owing to the action of the Span iards. I have now no further occasion for your services, and you can return with the earl to Hedingham, but your attendance in London will be needed when we lay hands upon these conspirators/' The same day they rode back to lledingham, but ten days later were again summoned to London. The queen had the day before journeyed to Windsor. Half an hour before she arrived at the wood near Datchet a strong party of her guard had suddenly surrounded it, and had found twelve armed men lurking there. These had been arrested and lodged in the Tower. Three of them were foreigners, the rest members of Catholic families known to be favorable to the Spanish cause. Their trial was conducted privately, as it was deemed advisable that as little should be made as possible of this and other similar plots against the queen's life that were discovered about this time. Geoffrey and Lionel gave their evidence before the coun cil. As the only man they could have identified was not of the party captured, their evidence only went to show the motive of this gathering in the wood near Datchet. The prisoners stoutly maintained that Geoffrey had misunder stood the conversation he had partly overheard, and that their design was simply to make the queen a prisoner and force her to abdicate. Three of the prisoners, who had before been banished from the countrj' and who had secretly returned, were sentenced to death ; two of the others to imprisonment for a long term of years, the rest to banish ment from England. After the trial was over Lord Burleigh sent for the boys, and *"". them a very gracious message in the queen's BY ENGLAND'S AID. 131 name, together with two rings in token of her majesty's gratitude. Highly delighted with these honors they re turned to Hedingham, and devoted themselves even mor-i assiduously than before to exercises in arms, in order that they might some day prove themselves valiant soldiers of the queen. 132 S Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. CHAPTER VIII. THE SPANISH ARMADA. THE struggle that was at hand between Spain and Eng land had long been foreseen as inevitable. The one power was the champion of Roman Catholicism, the other of Protestantism ; and yet, although so much hung upon the result of the encounter, and all Europe looked on with the most intense interest, both parties entered upon the struggle without allies, and this entirely from the personal fault of the sovereigns of the two nations. Queen Elizabeth, by her constant intrigues, her under hand dealings with France and Spain, her grasping policy in the Netherlands, her meanness and parsimony, and the fact that she was ready at any moment to sacrifice the Neth erlands to her own policy, had wholly alienated the people of the Low Country ; for, while their own efforts for defense were paralyzed by the constant interference of Elizabeth, no benefit was obtained from the English army, whose orders were to stand always on the defensive the queen's only anxiety appearing to be to keep her grasp upon the towns that had been handed over to her as the price of her alliance. Her own counselors were driven to their wits' end by her constant changes of purpose. Her troops were starv ing and in rags from her parsimony, the fleet lay dis mantled and useless from want of funds, and except such arming and drilling as took place at the expense of the nobles, counties, and cities, no preparation whatever was made to meet the coming storm. Upon the other hand, BY ENGLAND'S AID. 133 Philip of Spain, who might have been at the head of a great Catholic league against England, had isolated him self by his personal ambitions. Had he declared himself ready, in the event of his conquest of England, to place James of Scotland upon the throne, he would have had Scotland with him, together with the Catholics of Eng land, still a powerful and important body. France, too, would have joined him, and the combina tion against Elizabeth and the Protestants of England would have been well-nigh irresistible. But this he could not bring himself to do. His dream was the annexation of England to Spain ; and smarting as the English Catho lics were under the execution of Mary of Scotland, their English spirit revolted against the idea of the rule of Spain, and the great Catholic nobles hastened, when the moment of danger arrived, to join in the defense of their country, while Scotland, seeing no advantage to be gained in the struggle, stood sullenly aloof, and France gave no aid to a project which was to result, if successful, in the aggrandizement of her already dangerously formid able neighbor. Thus England and Spain stood alone Philip slowly but steadily preparing for the great expedition for the con quest of England, Elizabeth hesitating, doubtful ; at one moment gathering seamen and arming her fleet, a month or two later discharging the sailors and laying up the ships. In the spring of 1587, Drake, with six vessels belonging to the Crown and twenty-four equipped by merchants of London and other places, had seized a moment when Eliza beth's fickle mind had inclined to warlike measures, and knowing that the mood might last but a day, had slipped out of Plymouth and sailed for Spain a few hours before a messenger arrived with a peremptory order from Elizabeth against entering any Spanish port or offering violence to any Spanish town or ships. Although caught in a ga>l p m 134 BY ENGLAND'S AID. the Channel, Drake held on, and, reaching Gibraltar ou the IGth April, ascertained that Cadiz was crowded with trans ports and store-ships. Vice-Admiral Burroughs, controller of the navy, who had been specially appointed to thwart Drake's plans, op posed any action being taken ; but Drake insisted upon attack, and on the 19th the fleet stood into Cadiz harbor. Passing through the fire of the batteries, they sank the only great ship of war in the roads, drove off the Spanish galleys, and seized the vast fleet of store-ships loaded with wine, corn, and provisions of all sorts for the use of the Armada. Everything of value that could be conveniently moved was transferred to the English ships, then the Spanish vessels were set on fire, their cables cut, and they were left to drift an entangled mass of flame. Drake took a number of prisoners, and sent a messenger on shore pro posing to exchange them for such English seamen as were prisoners in Spain. The reply was there were no English prisoners in Spain ; and as this was notoriously untrue, it was agreed in the fleet that all the Spaniards they might take in the future should be sold to the Moors, and the money reserved for the redeeming of such Englishmen as might be in captivity there or elsewhere. The English fleet then sailed for Cape St. Vincent, pick ing up on their way large convoys of store-ships all bound for the Tagus, where the Armada was collecting. These were all burned, and Drake brought up at Cape St. Vin cent, hoping to meet there a portion of the Armada ex pected from the Mediterranean. As a harbor was neces sary, he landed, stormed the fort at Faro, and took posses sion of the harbor there. The expected enemy did not appear, and Drake sailed up to the mouth of the Tagus, intending to go into Lisbon and attack the great Spanish fleet lying there under its admiral, Santa Cruz. That the force gathered there was enormous Drake well knew, but relying as much on the goodness of his cause B T ENGLAND ' S AID. 135 as on the valor of his sailors, aiid upon the fact that the enemy would be too crowded together to fight with advan tage, he would have carried out his plan had not a ship arrived from England with orders forbidding him to enter the Tagus. However, he lay for some time at the mouth of the river, destroying every ship that entered its mouth, and sending in a challenge to Santa Cruz to come out and fight. The Spanish admiral did not accept it, and Drake then sailed to Corunna, and there, as at Cadiz, destroyed all the ships collected in the harbor and then returned to England, having in the course of a few months inflicted an enormous amount of damage upon Spain, and having taken the first step to prove that England was the mistress of the sea. But while the little band of English had been defending Sluys against the army of the Duke of Parma, Philip had been continuing his preparations, filling up the void made by the destruction wrought by Drake, and preparing an Armada which he might well have considered to be invin cible. Elizabeth was still continuing her negotiation She was quite ready to abandon the Netherlands to Spain if she could but keep the towns she held "here, bu' she could not bring herself to hand these over either to the Netherlands or to Spain. She urged the States to make peace; to which they replied that they did not wish for peac: o" such terms as Spain would alone grant ; they could defend themselves for ten years longer if left alone ; they did not ask for further help, and only wanted their towns restored to them. Had the Armada started as Philip intended in Septem ber, it would have found England entirely unprepared, for Elizabeth still obstinately refused to believe in danger, and the few ships that had been held in commissiou after Drake's return had been so long neglected that they could hardly keep the sea without repair ; the rest lay uiHgged in the Medway. But the delay gave England fresh time 136 BY ENGLAND'S AID. for preparation. Parma's army was lying in readiness for the invasion under canvas at Dunkirk, and their com mander had received no information from Spain, that the sailing of the Armada was delayed. The cold, wet, and exposure told terribly upon them, and of the 30,000 who were ready to embark in September not 18,000 were fit for service at the commencement of the year. The expenses of this army and of the Armada were so great that Philip was at last driven to give orders to the Armada to start. But fortune again favored England. Ilad the fleet sailed as ordered on the 30th of January they would again have found the Channel undefended, for Elizabeth, in one of her fits of economy, had again dis mantled half the fleet that had been got ready for sea, and sent the sailors to their homes. But the execution of Philip's orders was prevented by the sudden death of Santa Cruz. The Duke of Medina- Sidonia was appointed his successor, but as he knew nothing of the state of the Armada fresh delays became necessary, and the time was occupied by Elizabeth, not in preparing for the defense of the country, but in fresh negotiations for peace. Sbo was rea..y to make any concessions to Spain, but Philip was now only amusing himself by de ceiving her. Everything was now prepared for the ex pedition, and just as the fleet was ready to start, the negotiations were broken off. But though Elizabeth's government had made no preparations for the defense of the country, England herself had not been idle. Through out the whole country men had been mustered, officered, and armed, and 100,000 were ready to move as soon as the danger became imminent. The musters of the Midland counties, 30,000 strong, were to form a separate army, and were to march at once to a spot between Windsor and Harrow. The rest were to gather at the point of danger. The coast companies were to fall back wherever the enemy landed, burning the BY ENGLAND'S AID. 137 corn and driving off the cattle, and avoiding a battle until the force of the neighboring counties joined them. Should the lauding take place as AVUS expected in Suffolk, Kent, or Sussex, it was calculated that between 30,000 and 40,000 men would bar the way to the invaders before they reached London, while 20,000 men of the western coun ties would remain to encounter the Duke of Guise, who had engaged to bring across an army of Frenchmen to aid the Spaniards. Spain although well aware of the strength of England on the sea, believed that she would have no difficulty with the raw English levies ; but Parma, who had met the English at Sluys, had learnt to respect their righting qua lities, and in a letter to Philip gave the opinion that even if the Armada brought him a reinforcement of 6000 men he would still have an insufficient force for the conquest of England. He said. " When I shall have landed I must fight battle after battle. I shall lose men by wounds and disease, I must leave detachments behind me to keep open my communications, and in a short time the body of my army will become so weak that not only I may be unable to advance in the face of the enemy, and time may be given to the heretics and your majesty's other enemies to interfere, but there may fall out some notable incon venience, with the loss of everything and I be unable to remedy it." Unfortunately, the English fleet was far less prepared than the land forces. The militia had been easily and cheaply extemporized, but a fleet can only be prepared by long and painful sacrifices. The entire English navy con tained but thirteen ships of over four hundred tons, and including small cutters and pinnaces there were but thirty- eight vessels of all sorts and sizes carrying the queen's flag Fortunately, Sir John Hawkins was at the head of the naval administration, and in spite of the parsimony of Elizabeth had kept the fleet in a good state of repair and 138 S Y ENGLAND ' 5 ALD. equipment. The merchant navy, although numerous, vva-3 equally deficient in vessels of any size. Piiiiiij had encouraged shipbuilding in Spain by grants from the crown, allowing four ducats a ton for every ship built of above three hundred tons burden, and six ducats a ton for every one above five hundred tons. Thus he had a large supply of great ships to draw upon in addition to those of the royal navy, while in England the largest vessels belonging to private owners did not exceed four hundred tons, and there were not more than two or three vessels of that size sailing from any port of the country. The total allowance by the queen for the repair of the whole of the royal navy, wages of shipwrights, clerks, carpenters, watchmen, cost of timber, and all other neces sary dockyard expenses, was but 4000 a-year. Ill December the fleet was ready for sea, together with the contingent furnished by the liberality and patriotism of the merchants and citizens of the great ports. But as soon as it was got together half the crews collected and engaged at so great an expense were dismissed, the mer chant ships released, and England open to invasion, and had Parma started in the vessels he had prepared, Lord Howard, who commanded the English navy, could not have fired a shot to have prevented his crossing. Well might Sir John Hawkins in his despair at Eliza beth's caprices exclaim : " We are wasting money, wast ing strength, dishonoring and discrediting ourselves by our uncertain dallying." But though daily reports camr> from Spain of the readiness of the Armada to set sail, Elizabeth, even when she again permitted the navy to be manned, fettered it by allowing it to be provided with rations for only a month at a time, and permitting no reserves to be provided in the victualling stores ; while the largest vessels were supplied with ammunition for only a day and a half's service, and the rest of the fleet with but enough for one day's service. The council could do nothing, and LY ENGLAND'S AID. 139 Lord Howard/a letters prove that the queen, and she only, was responsible for the miserable state of things that pre vailed. At last, in May, Lord Howard sailed with the fleet do\vn Channel, leaving Lord Henry Seymour with three men-of- war and a squadron of privateers to watch Dunkirk. At Plymouth the admiral found Drake with forty ships, all except one raised and sent to sea at the expense of himself and the gentry and merchants of the west counties. The weather was wild, as it had been all the winter. Howard with the great ships lay at anchor ia the Sound, rolling heavily, while the smaller craft went for shelter into the mouth of the river. There were but eighteen days' pro visions on board ; fresh supplies promised did not arrive, and the crews were put on half rations, and eked these out by catching fish. At last, when the supplies were just exhausted, the victualling ships arrived with one month's fresh rations, and a message that no more would be sent. So villainous was the quality of the stores that fever broke out in the fleet. It was not until the end of the month that Elizabeth would even permit any further preparations to be made, and the supplies took some time collecting. The crews would have been starved had not the officers so divided the rations as to make them last six weeks. The men died in scores from dysentery brought on by the sour and poison- uous beer issued to them, r.nd Howard and Drake ordered wine and arrow-root from the town for the use of the sick, and had to pay for it from their own pockets. But at last the Armada was rjady for starting. Contin gents of Spanish, Italians, and Portuguese were gathered together with the faithful from all countries Jesuits from France ; exiled priests, Irish and English ; and many Catholic Scotch, English, and Irish noblemen and gentle men. The six squadrons into which the fleet was divided contained sixty-five large war ships, the smallest of which 140 BY ENGLAND ' 8 AID. was seven hundred tons. Seven were over one thousand, and the largest, an Italian ship, La Regazona, was thirteen hundred. All were built high like castles, their upper works musket-proof, their main timbers four or five feet thick, and of a strength it was supposed no English cannon could pierce. Next to the big ships, or galleons as they were called, were four galleasses, each carrying fifty guns and 450 sol diers and sailors, and rowed by 300 slaves. Besides these were four galleys, fifty-six great armed merchant ships, the finest Spain possessed, and twenty caravels or small vessels. Thus the fighting fleet amounted to 129 vessels, carrying in all 2430 cannon. On board was stored an enormous quantity of provisions for the use of the army after it landed in England, there being sufficient to feed 40,000 men for six months. There were on board 8000 sailors, 19,000 soldiers, 1000 gentlemen volunteers, 600 priests, servants, and miscellan eous officers, and 2000 galley slaves. This was indeed a tremendous array to meet the fleet lying off Plymouth, con sisting of 29 queen's ships of all sizes, 10 small vessels be longing to Lord Howard and members of his family, and 43 privateers between 40 and 400 tons under Drake, the united crews amounting to something over 9000 men. The winter had passed pleasantly to Geoffrey and Lionel Vickars ; the earl had taken a great fancy to them, and they had stayed for some time in London as members of his suite. When the spring came they had spoken about re joining Francis Yere in Holland, but the earl had said that there was little doing there. The enmity excited by the conduct of Elizabeth prevented any co-operation between the Dutch and English ; and indeed the English force was reduced to such straits by the refusal of the queen to fur nish money for their pay, or to provide funds for even ab solute necessaries, that it was wholly incapable of taking the field, and large numbers of the men returned to England. B Y ENGLAND ' S AID. 141 Had mis treatment of her soldiers and sailors at the time when such peril threatened their country been occa sioned by want of funds, some excuse would have been pos sible for the conduct of Elizabeth ; but at the time there were large sums lying in the treasury, and it was parsi mony and not incapacity to pay that actuated Elizabeth in i;he course she pursued. As the boys were still uneasy as to the opinion Francis Vere might form of their continued stay in England, they wrote to him, their letter being inclosed in one from the earl ; but the reply set their minds at rest " By all means stay in England/' Captain Vere wrote, "since there is nothing doing here of any note or consequence, nor likely to be. We are simply idling out time in Bergen-op- Zoom, and not one of us but is longing to be at home to bear his part in the events pending there. It is hard, in deed, to be confined in this miserable Dutch town while England is in danger. Unfortunately we are soldiers and must obey orders ; but as you are as yet only volunteers, free to act as you choose, it would be foolish in the ex treme for you to come over to this dull place while there is so much going on in England. I have written to my cousin, asking him to introduce you to some of the country gentlemen who have fitted out a ship for service against the Spaniards, so that you may have a hand in what is go ing on/' This the earl had done, and early in May they had journeyed down to Plymouth on horseback with a party of other gentlemen who were going on board the Active, a ves sel of two hundred and fifty tons belonging to a gentleman of Devonshire, one Master Audrey Drake a relation of Sir Francis Drake. The earl himself was with the party. He did not intend to go on board, for he was a bad sailor ; and though ready, as he said, to do his share of fighting upon land, would be only an encumbrance on board a ship. He went down principally at the request of Cecil and 142 F ENGLAND ' -S AID. other members of the council, who, knowing that he was a favorite of the queen, thought that hig representations as to the state of the fleet might do more than they could do to influence her to send supplies to the distressed sailors. The earl visited the ships lying in the mouth of the Tamar, and three times started in a boat to go out to those in the Sound ; but the sea was so rough, and he was so completely prostrated by sickness, that he had each time to put back. What he saw, however, on board the ships he visited, and heard from Lord Howard as to the state of those at sea, was quite sufficient. He at once expended a considerable amount of money in buying wine and fresh meat for the sick, and then hurried away to London to lay before the queen the result of his personal observations, and to im plore her to order provisions to be immediately despatched to the fleet. But even the description given by one of her favorites of the sufferings of the seamen was insufficient to induce the queen to open her purse-strings, and the earl left her in great dudgeon ; and although his private finances had been much straitened by his extravagance and love of dis play, he at once chartered a ship, filled her with provisions, and despatched her to Plymouth. Mr. Drake and the gentlemen with him took up their abode in the town until there should be need for them to go on board the Active, where the accommodation was much cramped, and life by no means agreeable ; and the Vickars therefore escaped sharing the sufferings of those on board ship. At the end of May came the news that the Armada had sailed on the 19th, and high hopes were entertained that the period of waiting had terminated. A storm, however, scattered the great fleet, and it was not until the 12th of July that they sailed from the Bay of Ferrol, where they had collected after the storm. Never was there known a season so boisterous as the B Y ENGLAND ' 5 AID. 143 summer of 1588, and when off Ushant, in a southwest gale, four galleys were wrecked on the French coast, and the Santa Anna, a galleon of 800 tons, went down, carry ing with her ninety seamen, three hundred soldiers, and 50,000 ducats in gold. After two days the storm abated, and the fleet again pro ceeded. At daybreak on the 20th the Lizard was in sight, and an English fishing-boat was seen running along their line. Chase was given, but she soon out-sailed her pur suers, and carried the news to Plymouth. The Armada had already been made out from the coast the night before, and beacon lights had flashed the news all over England. In every village and town men were arming and saddling and marching away to the rendezvous of the various corps. la Plymouth the news was received with the greatest re joicing. Thanks to the care with which the provisions had been husbanded, and to the manner in which the of- licers and volunteers had from their private means supple mented the scanty stores, there was still a week's provisions on board, and this, it was hoped, would suffice for their needs. The scanty supply of ammunition was a greater source of anxiety ; but they hoped that fresh supplies would be forthcoming, now that even the queen could no longer close her eyes to the urgent necessity of the case. As soon as the news arrived all the gentlemen in the town flocked on board the ships, and on the night of the 19th the queen's ships and some of the privateers went to moor ings behind Ram Head, so that they could make clear to sea : and on the morning when the Spaniards sighted the Lizard, forty sail were lying ready for action under the headland. At three o'clock in the afternoon the look-out men on the hill reported a line of sails on the western horizon. Two wings were at first visible, which were gradually united as the top-sails of those in the center rose above the line of sea. As they arose it could be seen that the great BY ENGLAND '5 AID. fleet was sailing, in the form of a huge crescent, before a gentle wind. A hundred and fifty ships, large and small, were counted, as a few store-ships bound for Flanders had joined the Armada for protection. The Active was one of the privateers that had late the evening before gone out to Ram Head, and just as it was growing dusk the anchors were got up, and the little fleet sailed out from the shelter of the land as the Armada swept along. The Spanish admiral at once ordered the fleet to lie-to for the night, and to prepare for a general action at day break, as he knew from a fisherman he had captured that the English fleet were at Plymouth. The wind was on shore, but all through the night Howard's and Drake's ships beat out from the Sound until they took their places behind the Spanish fleet, whose position they could per fectly make out by the light of the half moon that rose at two in the morning. On board the English fleet all was confidence and hilarity. The sufferings of the last three months were forgotten. The numbers and magnitude of the Spanish ships counted as nothing. The sailors of the west country had met the Spaniards on the Indian seas and proved their masters, and doubted not for a moment that they should do so again. There was scarce a breath of air when day broke, but at eight o'clock a breeze sprang up from the west, and the Armada made sail and attempted to close with the Eng lish ; but the low, sharp English ships sailed two feet to the one of the floating castles of Spain, and could sail close to the wind, while the Spanish ships, if they attempted to close-haul their sails, drifted bodily to leeward. Howard's flagship, the Ark-Raleigh, with three other English ships. opened the engagement by running down along their rear- line, firing into each galleon as they passed, then wearing round and repeating the maneuver. The great San Matteo BY ENGLAND'S AID. 145 luffed out from the rest of the fleet and challenged them to board, but they simply poured their second broadside into her and passed on. The excellence of the maneuvering of the English ships, and the rapidity and accuracy of their fire, astonished the Spaniards. Throughout the whole forenoon the action continued ; the Spaniards making efforts to close, but in vain, the English ships keeping the weather-gage and sail ing continually backwards and forwards, pouring in their broadsides. The height and size of the Spanish ships were against them ; and being to leeward they heeled over directly they came up to the wind to fire a broadside, and their shots for the most part went far over their assailants, while they themselves suffered severely from the English fire. Miquel de Oquendo, who commanded one of the six Spanish squadrons, distinguished himself by his at tempts to close with the English, and by maintaining his position in the rear of the fleet engaged in constant conflict with them. He was a young nobleman of great promise, distinguished alike for his bravery and chivalrous disposition ; but he could do little while the wind remained in the west and the English held the weather-gage. So far only the ships that had been anchored out under Ram Head had taken part in the fight, those lying higher up in the Sound being unable to make their way out. At noon the exertions of their crews, who had from the preceding evening worked incessantly, prevailed, and they were now seen coming out from behind the headland to take part in the struggle. Medina-Sidonia signaled to his fleet to make sail up Chan nel, Martinez de Ricaldo covering the rear with the squad ron of Biscay. He was vice-admiral of the fleet, and considered to be the best seaman Spain possessed now that Santa Cruz was dead. The wind was now rising. Lord Howard sent off a fast boat with letters to Lord Henry Seymour, telling him how 146 BY ENGLAND'S AID. things had gone so far, and Induing him be prepared for the arrival of the Spanish fleet in the Downs. As il;e afternoon went on the wind rose, and a rolling sea came in from the west. Howard still hung upon the Spanish rear, firing but seldom in order to save his powder. As evening fell, the Spanish vessels, huddled closely together, frequently came into collision with one another, and in one of these the Capitana, the flagship of the Andalusian di vision, commanded by Admiral Pedro de Valdez, had her bowsprit carried away, the foremast fell overboard, and the ship dropped out of her place. Two of the galleasses came to her assistance and tried to take her in tow, but the waves were running so high that the cable broke. Pedro de Valdez had been command er of the Spanish fleet on the coast of Holland, and knew the English Channel and the northern shores of France and Holland well. The duke therefore despatched boats to bring him off with his crew, but he refused to leave his charge. Howard, as with his ships he passed her, believed her to be deserted and went on after the fleet ; but a Lon don vessel kept close to her and exchanged shots with her all night, until Drake, who had turned aside to chase what he believed to be a portion of the Spanish fleet that had separated itself from the rest, but which turned out to be the merchant ships that had joined it for protection, came up, and the Capitana struck her flag. Drake took her into Torbay, and there left her in the care of the Brixham fisher men, and taking with him Valdez and the other officers sailed away to join Lord Howard. The fishermen, on searching the ship, found some tons of gunpowder on board her. Knowing the scarcity of ammunition in the fleet they placed this on board the Roebuck, the fastest trawler in the harbor, and she started at once in pursuit of the fleet. The misfortune to the Capitana was not the only one that befell the Spaniards. While Oquendo was absent BY ENGLAND'S AID. 147 from his galleon a quarrel arose among the officers, who were furious at the ill result of the day's fighting. The captain struck the master-gunner with a stick ; the latter, a German, rushed below in a rage, thrust a burning fuse into a powder barrel, and sprang through a port-hole into the sea. The whole of the deck was blown up, with two hundred sailors and soldiers ; but the ship was so strongly built that she survived the shock, and her mast still stood. The duke sent boats to learn what had happened. These carried off the few who remained unhurt, but there was no means of taking off the wounded. These, however, were treated kindly and sent on shore when the ship was picked up at daylight by the English, who, on rifling her, found to their delight that there were still many powder barrels on board that had escaped the explosion. The morning broke calm, and the wind, when it came, was from the east, which gave the Spaniards the advantage of position. The two fleets lay idle all day three or four miles apart, and the next morning, as the wind was still from the east, the Spaniards bore down upon Howard to offer battle. The English, however, headed out to sea. Encouraged by seeing their assailants avoid a pitched battle the Spaniards gave chase. The San Marcos, the fastest sailer in the fleet, left the rest behind, and when the breeze headed round at noon she was several miles to windward of her consorts and the English at once set upon her. She fought with extreme courage, and defended herself single- handed for an hour and a half, when Oquendo came up to the rescue, and as the action off Plymouth had almost ex hausted his stock, of powder, and the Brixham sloop had not yet come up, Howard was obliged to draw off. The action of this day was fought off Portland. During the three days the British fleet had been to sea they had received almost hourly reinforcements. From every har bor and fishing port along the coast from Plymouth to the 148 BY ENGLAND'S AID. Isle of Wight vessels of all sizes, smacks, and boats put off, crowded with noblemen and gentlemen anxious to take part in the action, and their enthusiasm added to that of the weary and ill-fed sailors. At the end of the third day the English fleet had increased to a hundred sail, many of which, however, were of very small burden. ENGLAND 't> AW. CHAPTER IX. THE ROUT OF THE ARMADA. THE fight between the fleets had begun on Sunday morning, and at the end of the third day the strength of the Armada remained unbroken, The moral effect had no doubt been great, but the loss of two or three ships was a trifle to so large a force, and the spirit of the Spaniards had been raised by the gallant and successful defence the San Marcos had made on the Tuesday afternoon. Wednes day was again calm. The magazines of the English ships were empty. Though express after express had been sent off praying that ammunition might be sent, none had ar rived, and the two fleets lay six miles apart without action, save that the galleasses came out and skirmished for a Avhile Avith the English ships. That evening, however, a supply of ammunition suffi cient for another day's fighting arrived, and soon after daybreak the English fleet moved down towards the Armada, and for the first time engaged them at close quarters. The Ark-Raleigh, the Bear, the Elizabeth Jones. the Lion, and the Victory bore on straight into the center of the Spanish galleons, exchanging broadsides with each as they passed. Oquendo Avith his vessel was right in the the course of the English flagship, and a collision took place, in Avhich the Ark-Ralegh's rudder was unshipped, and she became unmanageable. The enemy's vessels closed round her, but she lowered her boats, and these, in spite of the fire of the enemy, brought her head round before the Aviud, and she made 150 BY ENGLAND'S AID. her way through her antagonists and got clear. For ser- eral hours the battle continued. The Spanish fire was so slow, and their ships so unwieldy, that it was rarely they succeeded in firing a shot into their active foes, while the English shot tore their way through the massive timbers of the Spanish vessels, scattering the splinters thickly among the soldiers, who had been sent below to be out of harm's way ; but beyond this, and inflicting much damage upon masts and spars, the day's fighting had no actual results. No captures were made by the English. The Spaniards suffered, but made no sign ; nevertheless their confidence in their powers was shaken. Their am munition was also running short, and they had no hope of refilling their magazines until they effected a junction with Parma. Their admiral that night wrote to him ask ing that two shiploads of shot and powder might be sent to him immediately. " The enemy pursue me,'' he said ; " they fire upon me most days from morning till nightfall, but they will not close and grapple. I have given them every opportunity. I have purposely left ships exposed to tempt them to board, but they decline to do it ; and there is no remedy, for they are swift and we are slow. They have men and ammunition in abundance." The Spanish admiral was unaware that the English magazines were even more empty than his own. On Friday morning Howard sailed for Dover to take in the supplies that were so sorely needed. The Earl of Sussex, who was in command of the castle, gave him all that he had, and the stores taken from the prizes came up in light vessels and were divided among the fleet, and in the evening the English fleet again sailed out and took up its place in the rear of the Armada. On Saturday morning the weather changed. After six days of calm and sunshine it began to blow hard from the west, with driving showers. The Spaniards, having no pilots who knew the coasts, anchored off Calais, The & Y ENGLAND ' S AID. 151 English fleet, closely watching their movements, brought up two miles astern. The Spanish admiral sent off another urgent letter to Parma at Dunkirk, begging him to send immediately thirty or forty fast gunboats to keep the English at bay. Parma had received the admiral's letters, and was perfectly ready to embark his troops, but could not do this as the admiral expected he would, until the fleet came up to pro tect him. The lighters and barges he had constructed for the passage were only fit to keep the sea in calm weather, and M r ould have been wholly at the mercy of even a single English ship of war. He could not, therefore, embark his troops until the duke arrived. As to the gunboats asked for, he had none with him. But while the Spanish admiral had grave cause for un easiness in the situation in which he found himself; Lord Howard had no greater reason for satisfaction. In spite of his efforts the enemy's fleet had arrived at their destina tion with their strength still unimpaired, and were in communication with the Duke of Parma's army. Lord Seymour had come up with a squadron from the mouth of the Thames, but his ships had but one day's provisions on board, while Drake and Howard's divisions had all but ex hausted their supplies. The previous day's fighting had used up the ammunition obtained at Dover. Starvation would drive every English ship from the sea in another week at latest. The channel would then be open for the passage of Parma's army. At five o'clock on Sunday evening a council of war was held in Lord Howard's cabin, and it was determined, that as it was impossible to attack the Spanish fleet where they lay at the edge of shallow water, an attempt must be made to drive them out into the Channel with fire-ships. Eight of the private vessels were accordingly taken, and such combustibles as could be found pitch, tar, old sails, empty casks, and other materials were piled into them. 152 BY ENGLAND'S AID. At midnight the tide set directly from the English fleet towards the Spaniards, and the fire-ships, manned by their respective crews, hoisted sail and drove down towards them. When near the Armada the crews set fire to the combus tibles, and taking to their boats rowed back to the fleet. At the sight of the flames bursting up from the eight ships louring down upon them, the Spaniards were seized with a panic. The admiral fired a gun as a signal, and all cut their cables and hoisted sail, and succeeded in getting out to sea before the fire-ships arrived. They lay-to six miles from shore, intending to return in the morning and recover their anchors ; but Drake with his division of the fleet, and Seymour with the squadron from the Thames, weighed their anchors and stood off after them, while Howard with his division remained off Calais, where, in the morning, the largest of the four galleasses was seen aground on Ca lais Bar. Lord Howard wasted many precious hours in capturing her before he set off to join Drake and Seymour, who were thundering against the Spanish fleet. The wind had got up during the night, and the Spaniards had drifted farther than they expected, and when morning dawned were scattered over the sea off Gravelines. Signals were made for them to collect, but before they could do so Drake and Seymour came up and opened fire within pistol- shot. The English admiral saw at once that, with the wind rising from the south, if he could drive the unwieldy galleons north they would be cut off from Dunkirk, and would not be able to beat back again until there Avas a change of wind. All through the morning the English ships poured a con tinuous shower of shot into the Spanish vessels, which, hud dled together in a confused mass, were unable to make any return whatever. The duke and Oquendo, with some of the best sailors among the fleet, tried to bear out from the crowd and get room to maneuver, but Drake's ships were B Y ENGLAND '8 AID. 153 too weatherly and too well handled to permit of this, and they were driven back again into the confused mass, which * was being slowly forced towards the shoals and banks of the coasts. Howard came up at noon with his division, and until sunset the fire was maintained, by which time almost the last cartridge was spent, and the crews worn out by the incessant labor. They took no prizes, for they never at tempted to board. They saw three great galleons go down, and three more drift away towards the sands of Ostend, where they were captured either by the English garrisoned there or by three vessels sent by Lord Willoughby from Flushing, under the command of Francis Vere. Had the English ammunition lasted but a few more hours the Avhole of the Armada would have been either driven ashore or sunk ; but when the last cartridge had been burned the assailants drew off to take on board the stores which had, while the fighting was going on, been brought up by some provision ships from the Thames. But the Spaniards were in no condition to benefit by the cessation of the attack. In spite of the terrible disadvan tages under which they labored, they had fought with splendid courage. The sides of the galleons had been rid dled with shot, and the splinters caused by the rending of the massive timbers had done even greater execution than the iron hail. Being always to leeward, and heeling over with the wind, the ships had been struck again and again below the water-line, and many were only kept from sink ing by nailing sheets of lead over the shot-holes. Their guns were, for the most part, dismounted or knocked to pieces. Several -had lost masts, the carnage among the crews was frightful, and yet not a single ship hauled down her colors. The San Matteo which was one of those that grounded between Ostend and Sluys, fought to the last, and kept Francis Yere's three ships at bay for two hours, until she was at last carried bv boarding. 154 BY ENGLAND ' 8 AID. Left to themselves at the end of the day, the Spaniards gathered in what order they could, and made sail for the north. On counting the losses they found that four thou sand men had been killed or drowned, and the number of wounded must have been far greater. The crews were utterly worn-out and exhausted. They had the day before been kept at work cleaning and refitting, and the fire-ships had disturbed them early in the night. During the en gagement there had been no time to serve out food, and the labors of the long struggle had completely exhausted them. Worst of all, they were utterly disheartened by the day's fighting. They had been pounded by their active foes, who fired five shots to their one, and whose vessels sailed round and round them, while they themselves had inflicted no damage that they could perceive upon their assailants. The English admirals had no idea of the extent of the victory they had won. Howard, who had only come up in the middle of the fight, believed that they ''were still wonderful great and strong," while even Drake, who saw more clearly how much they had suffered, only ventured to hope that some days at least would elapse before they could join hands with Parma. In spite of the small store of ammunition that had arrived the night before, the Eng lish magazines were almost empty ; but they determined to show a good front, and "give chase as though they wanted nothing." When the morning dawned the English fleet were stil'l to windward of the Armada, while to leeward were lines of white foam, where the sea was breaking on the shoals of Holland. It seemed that the Armada was lost. At thii critical moment the wind suddenly shifted to the east. This threw the English fleet to leeward, and enabled the Spaniards to head out from the coast and make for the Xorth Sea. The Spanish admiral held a council. The vihad gone do**" 1 - and they had now a fair win- 1 fr "' Ca- J5F ENGLAND'S AID. 155 lais ; and the question was put to the sailing-masters and captains whether they should return into the Channel or sail north round Scotland and Ireland, and so return to Spain. The former was the courageous course, but the spirit of the Spaniards was broken, and the vote was in favor of what appeared a way of escape. Therefore, the shattered fleet bore on its way north. On board the Eng lish fleet a similar council was being held, and it was deter mined that Lord Seymour's squadron should return to guard the Channel, lest Parma should take advantage of the absence of the fleet to cross from Dunkirk to England, and that Howard and Drake with their ninety ships should pursue the Spaniards ; for it was not for a moment sup posed that the latter had entirely abandoned their enter prise, and intended to return to Spain without making another effort to rejoin Parma. During the week's fighting Geoffrey and Lionel Yickars had taken such part as they could in the contest ; but as there had been no hand-to-hand fighting, the position of the volunteers on board the fleet had been little more than that of spectators. The crews worked the guns and man euvered the sails, and the most the lads could do was to relieve the ship-boys in carrying up powder and shot, and to take round drink to men serving the guns. When not otherwise engaged they had watched with intense excite ment the maneuvers of their own ship and of those near them, as they swept down towards the great hulls, delivered their broadsides, and then shot off again before the Span iards had had time to discharge more than a gun or two. The sails had been pierced in several places, but not a single shot had struck the hull of the vessel. In the last day's fighting, however, the Active became entangled among several of the Spanish galleons, and being almost becalmed by their lofty hulls, one of them ran full at her, and rolling heavily in the sea, seemed as if she would oyer- "^Im her pu^v antagonist. 156 BY ENGLAND 1 S AID. Geoffrey was standing at the end of the poop when uiie mizzen rigging became entangled in the stern gallery of the Spaniard, and a moment later the mast snapped off, and as it fell carried him overboard. For a moment he was half-stunned, but caught hold of a piece of timber shot away from one of the enemy's ships, and clung to it me chanically. When he recovered and looked round, the Active had drawn out from between the Spaniards, and the great galleon which had so nearly sunk her was close beside him. The sea was in a turmoil ; the waves as they set in from the west being broken up by the rolling of the great ships, and torn by the hail of shot. The noise was prodigious, from the incessant cannonade kept up by the English ships and the return of the artillery on board the Armada, .the rending of timber, the heavy crashes as the great galleons rolled against one another, the shouting on board the Spanish ships, the creaking of the masts and yards, and the flapping of the sails. On trying to strike out, Geoffrey found that as he had been knocked overboard he had struck his right knee severely against the rail of the vessel, and was at present unable to use that leg. Fearful of being run down by one of the great ships, and still more of being caught between two of them as they rolled, he looked round to try to get sight of an English ship in the throng. Then, seeing that lie was entirely surrounded by Spaniards, he left the spar and swam as well as he could to the bow of a great ship close beside him, and grasping a rope trailing from the bowsprit, managed by its aid to clirnb up until he reached the bobstay, across which he seated himself with his back to the stem. The position was a precarious one, and after a time he gained the wooden carved work above, and obtained a seat there just below the bowsprit, and hidden from the sight of those on deck a few feet above him. As he knew tiie vessels were drifting to leeward towards the shoals, h GEOFFREY CARRIED OVERBOARD BY THE FALLING MAST. Page 156. S T ENGLAND ' 5 AID. 157 hoped to remain hidden until the vessel struck, and then to gain the shore. Presently the shifting of the positions of the ships brought the vessel on which he was into the outside line. The shots now flew thickly about, and he could from time to time feel a jar as the vessel was struck. So an hour went on. At the end of that iime he heard a great shouting on deck, and the sound of men running to and fro. Happening to look down he saw that the sea was but a few feet below him, and knew that the great galloon was sinking. Another quarter of an hour she was so much lower that he was sure she could not swim many minutes longer ; and to avoid being drawn down with her he dropped into the water and swam off. He was but a short distance away when he heard a loud cry, and glanc ing over his shoulder saw the ship disappearing. He swam desperately, but was caught in the suck and carried under ; but there was no great depth of water, and he soon came to the surface again. The sea was dotted with struggling men and pieces of wreckage. He swam to one of the latter, and held on until he saw some boats, which the next Span ish ship had lowered when she saw her consort disappear ing, rowing towards them, and was soon afterwards hauled into one of them. He had closed his eyes as it came up, and assumed the appearance of insensibility, and he lay in the bottom of the boat immovable, until after a time he heard voices above, and then felt himself being carried up the ladder and laid down on the deck. He remained quiet for some time, thinking over what he had best do. He was certain that were it known he was English he would at once be stabbed and thrown overboard, for there was no hope of quarter ; but he was for some time unable to devise any plan by which, even for a short time, to conceal his nationality. He only knew a few words of Spanish, and would be detected the moment he opened his lips. He thought of leaping up suddenly and jumping 1 58 B T ENGLA ND ' S AIL. overboard ; but his chance of reaching the English ships to windward would be slight indeed. At last an idea struck him, and sitting up he opened his eyes and looked round. Several other Spaniards who had been picked up lay ex hausted on the deck near him. A party of soldiers and sailors close by were working a cannon. The bulwarks were shot away in many places, dead and dying men lay scattered about, the decks were everywhere stained with blood, and no one paid any attention to him until pres ently the fire began to slacken. Shortly afterwards a Spanish officer came up and spoke to him. Geoffrey rose to his feet, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and burst into an idiotic laugh. The officer spoke again but he paid no attention, and the Spaniard turned away, be lieving that the lad had lost senses from fear and the hor rors of the day. As night came on ho was several times addressed, but always with the same result. When after dark food and wine were served out, he seized the portion offered to him, and hr.rrying away crouched under the shelter of a gun, and devoured it as if fearing it would be taken from him again. "vYT.er- ".c- saw that the sailors were begii.ni:i:r to repair sonv;- oi the most necessary ropes and stays th:it had been shot av r r v, he pushed his way through them und took his share of the work, laughing idiotically from time to time. He had, when lie saw that the galleon was sinking, taken off his doublet, the better to be able to swim, and in his shirt and trunks there was nothing to distinguish him from a Spaniard, and none suspected that he was the other than he seemed to be a ship's boy, who had lost his senses from fear. When the work was done, he threw himself on the deck with the weary sailors. His hopes were that the Lattle wo'ii:' be renewed in the morning, and that either the ship might be captured, or that an English vessel might pass so close alongside that he might leap over and swim to her. E Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 159 Great was his disappointment next day when the sudden ^change of wind gave the Spanish fleet the weather -gage, and enabled them to steer away for the north. He joined in the work of the crew, paying no attention whatever to what was passing around him, or heeding in the slightest the remarks made to him. Once or twice when an officer spoke to him sternly he gave a little cry, ran to the side, and crouched down as ii in abject fear. In a very short time no attention was paid to him, and he was suffered to go about as he chose, being regarded as a harmless imbecile. He was in hopes that the next day the Spaniards would change their course and endeavor to beat back to the Channel, and was at once disappointed and surprised aa they sped on before the southwesterly wind, which wits hourly increasing in force. Some miles behind he could see the English squadron in pursuit ; but these made no attempt to close up, being well contented to see the Ar mada sailing away, and being too straitened in ammuni tion to wish to bring on an engagement so long as the Spaniards were following their present course. The wind blew with ever-increasing force ; the lightly ballasted ships made bad weather, rolling deep in the seas, straining heavily, and leaking badly through the opening seams and the hastily-stopped shot-holes. Water was ex tremely scarce, and at a signal from the admiral all the horses and mules were thrown overboard in order to hus band the supply. Several of the rnasts, badly injured by the English shot, went by the board, and the vessels dropped behind crippled, to be picked up by the pursuing fleet. Lord Howard followed as far as the mouth of the Forth ; and seeing that the Spaniards made no effort to enter the estuary, and Inn provisions being now well-nigh exhausted, he hove the fleet about and made back for the Channel, leaving two small vessels only to follow the Armada and watch its course, believing that it would make for Den mark, refit there, and then return to rejoin Parma. 160 BY ENGLA ND ' S AID. It was a grievous disappointment to the English to be thus forced by want of provisions to relinquish the pursuit. Had they been properly supplied with provisions and am munition they could have made an end of the Armada ; whereas, they believed that by allowing them now to escape the whole work would have to be done over again. They had sore trouble to get back again off the Norfolk coast. The wind became so furious that the fleet was scattered. A few of the largest ships reached Margate ; others were driven into Harwich, others with difficulty kept the sea until the storm broke. It might have been thought that after such service as the fleet had rendered even Elizabeth might have been generous ; but now that the danger was over, she became more niggardly than ever. Xo fresh provisions were sup plied for the sick men, and though in the fight off the Dutch coast only some fifty or sixty had been killed, in the course of a very short time the crews were so weakened by deaths and disease that scarce a ship could have put to sea, however urgent the necessity. Drake and Howard spent every penny they could raise in buying fresh meat and vegetables, and in procuring some sort of shelter on shore for the sick. Had the men received the wages due to them they could have made a shift to have purchased what they so urgently required ; but though the Treasury was full of money, not a penny was forthcoming until every item of the accounts had been investigated and squabbled over. Howard was compelled to pay from his private purse for everything that had been purchased at Plymouth, Sir John Hawkins was absolutely ruined by the demands made on him to pay for necessaries supplied to the fleet, and had the admirals and sailors of the fleet that saved England beLaved like ignominious cowards, their treatment could not have been worse than that which they received at the hands of their sovereign. But while the English seamen were dying like sheep BY ENGLAND'S AID. 161 from disease and neglect, their conquered foes were faring no better. They had breathed freely for the first time ' when they saw the English fleet bear up ; an examination was made of the provisions that were left, and the crews were placed on rations of eight ounces of bread, half a pint of wine, and a pint of water a day. The fleet was still a great one, for of the hundred and fifty ships which had sailed from Corunna, a hundred and twenty still held to gether. The weather now turned bitterly cold, with fog and mist, squalls and driving showers ; and the vessels, when they reached the north coast of Scotland, lost sight of each other, and each struggled for herself in the tem pestuous sea. A week later the weather cleared, and on the 9th of August Geoffrey looking round at daybreak saw fifteen other ships in sight. Among these were the galleons of Calderon and Kicaldo, the Rita, San Mafcos, and eleven other vessels. Signals were flying from all of them, but the sea was so high that it was scarce possible to lower a boat. That night it again blew hard and the fog closed in, and in the morning Geoffrey found that the ship he was on, and all the others, with the exception of that of Calderon, were steering north ; the intention of Ricaldo and De Leyva being to make for the Orkneys and refit there. Calderon had stood south, and had come upon Sidonia wit> fifty ships ; and these, bearing well away to the west of Ireland, finally succeeded for the most part in reaching Spain, their crews reduced by sickness and want to a mere shadow of their original strength. The cold became bitter as De Leyva's ships made their way towards the Orkneys. The storm was furious, and the sailors, unaccustomed to the cold and weakened by disease and famine, could no longer work their ships, and De Leyva was obliged at last to abandon his intention and make south. One galleon was driven on the Faroe Islands, a second on the Orkneys, and a third on the Isle of Mull, 162 B T ENGLAND ' 3 AID. where it was attacked by the natives and burned with al most every one on board. The rest managed to make the west coast of Ireland, and the hope that they would find shelter in Galway Bay, or the mouth of the Shannon, began to spring up in the breasts of the exhausted crows. The Irish were their co-religionists and allies, and had only been waiting for news of the success of the Armada to rise in arms against the English, who had but few troops there. Rumors of disaster had arrived, and a small frigate had been driven into Tralee Bay. The fears of the gar rison at Tralee Castle overcame their feelings of humanity, and all on board were put to death. Two galleons put into Dingle, and landing begged for water ; but the natives, deciding that the Spanish cause was a lest one, refused to give them a drop, seized the men who had landed in the boats, and the galleons had to put to sea again. Another ship of a thousand tons, Our Lady of the Rosary, was driven into the furious straits between the Blasket Islands and the coast of Kerry. Of her crew of seven hundred, five hundred had died. Before she got half-way through she struck among the breakers, and all the survivors perished save the son of the pilot, who was washed ashore lashed to a plank. Six others who had reached the mouth of the Shannon sent their boats ashore for water ; but although there were no English there the Irish feared to supply them, even though the Spaniards offered any sum of money for a few casks. One of the ships was abandoned and the others put to sea, only to be dashed ashore in the same gale that wrecked Our Lady of the Rosary, and of all of their crews only one hundred and fifty men were cast ashore alive. Along the coast of Con- nemara, Mayo, and Sligo many other ships were wrecked. In almost every case the crews who reached the shore were at once murdered by the native savages for the sake of their clothes and jewelery. Geoffrey had suffered as much as the rest of the crew on BY ENGLAND '5 AID. 163 boaru the galleon in which he sailed. All were so absorbed oy their own suffering and misery that none paid any at tention to the idiot boy in their midst. He worked at such work as there was to do : assisted to haul on the ropes, to throw the dead overboard, and to do what could be done for the sick and wounded. Like all on board he was reduced almost to a skeleton, and was scarce able to stand. As the surviving ships passed Galway Bay, one of them, which was leaking so badly that she could only have been kept afloat a few hours in any case, entered it, and brought up opposite the town. Don Lewis of Cordova, who com manded, sent a party on shore, believing that in Galway, between which town and Spain there had always been close connections, they would be well received. They were, however, at once taken prisoners. An attempt was made to get up the anchors again, but the crew were too feeble to be able to do so, and the natives coming out in their boats, all were taken prisoners and sent on shore. Sir Eichard Bingham, the governor of Connaught, arrived in a few hours, and at once despatched search parties through Clare and Connemara to bring all Spaniards cast ashore alive to the town, and sent his son to Mayo to fetch down all who landed there. But young Bingham's mission proved useless ; every Spaniard who had landed had been murdered by the natives, well-nigh three thousand having bt;en slain by the axes and knives of the savages who pro fessed to be their co-religionists. Sir Eichard Bingham was regarded as a humane man, but he feared the consequences should the eleven hundred prisoners col-iected at Galway be restored to health and strength. He had but a handful of troops under him, and had had the greatest difficulty in keeping dovn the ''rish alone. With eleven hundred Spanish soldiers to aid them the task would be impossible, and accordingly he gave orders that all, with the exception of Don Lewis him- 164 BY JSNGLAWf* AID. self, and three or four other nobles, should be executed. The order was carried out ; Don Lewis, with those spared, was sent under an escort to Dublin, but the others being too feeble to walk were killed or died on the way, and Don Lewis himself was the sole survivor out of the crews of a dozen ships. De Leyva, the most popular officer in the Armada, had with him in his ship two hundred and fifty young nobles of the oldest families in Spain. He was twice wrecked. The first time all reached the shore in safety, and were protected by O'Niel, who was virtually the sovereign of the north of Ulster. He treated them kindly for a time. They then took to sea again, but were finally wrecked off Dunluce, and all on board save five perished miserably. Over eight thousand Spaniards died on the Irish coast. Eleven hundred were put to death by Bingham, three thousand murdered by the Irish, the rest drowned : and of the whole Armada but fifty-four vessels, carrying between nine and ten thousand worn-out men, reached Spain, and of the survivors a large proportion afterwards died from the effects of the sufferings they had endured. B Y ENGLAND ' 5 AID. loo CHAPTEii X. THE WAR IX HOLLAND. IN the confusion caused by the collision of the Active with the Spanish galleon no one had noticed the accident which had befallen Geoffrey Vickars, and his brother's distress was great when, on the ship getting free from among the Spaniards, he discovered that Geoffrey was missing. He had been by his side on the poop but a minute before the mast fell, and had no doubt that he had been carried overboard by its wreck. That he had survived he had not the least hope, and when a week later the Active on her way back towards the Thames was driven into Harwich, he at once landed and carried the sad news to his parents. England was wild with joy at its deliver ance, buo the household at Hedingham was plunged into deep sorrow. Weeks passed and then Lionel received a letter from Francis Vere saying that Parma's army was advancing into Holland, and that as active work was at hand he had best, if his intentions remained unchanged, join him with out delay. He started two days later for Harwich, and thence took ship for Bergeu-op-Zooni. Anchoring at Flushing, he leari:e ' BY ENGLAND 1 S AID. 181 to his position and means. He had been concerned in a rising in Ireland, and had fled the country, bringing with him a fair amount of resources. Believing that the Armada was certain to be crowned with success, and that he should ere long be restored to his estates in Ireland, he had, upon his first coming to Spain, spent his money freely. His outfit for the expedition had made a large inroad upon his store, and his resources were now nearly at an end. " What is one to do, Geoffrey ? I don't want to take a commission in Philip's army, though my friends could obtain one for me at once ; but I have no desire to spend the rest of my life in the Netherlands storming the towns of the Dutch burghers." " Or rather trying to storm them," Geoffrey said, smil ing ; " there have not been many towns taken of late years." "Nor should I greatly prefer to be campaigning in France," Gerald went on, paying no attention to the interruption. " I have no love either for Dutch Calvinists or French Huguenots ; but I have no desire either to be cutting their throats or for them to be cutting mine. I should like a snug berth under the crown here or at Cadiz, or at Seville ; but I see no chance whatever of my obtain ing one. I cannot take up the trade of a footpad, though disbanded soldiers turned robbers are common enough in Spain. What is to be done ? " " If I am not mistaken," Geoffrey said with a smile, "your mind is already made up. It is not quite bv ac cident, that you are in the gardens of the Eetiro every evening, and that a few words are always exchanged with a certain young lady as she passes with her duenna." "Oh! you have observed that," Gerald Burke replied with a laugh. " Your eyes are sharper than I gave you credit for, Master Geoffrey. Yes, that would set me on m.Y legs without doubt, for Donna Inez is the only 182 BY ENGLAND'S AID. daughter and heiress of the Marquis of Ribaldo ; but you Bee there is a father in the case, and if that father had the slightest idea that plain Gerald Burke was lifting his eyes to his daughter it would not be many hours before Gerald Burke had several inches of steel in his body." ' ' That I can imagine/' Geoffrey said, " since it is, as I learn from my acquaintances among the lackeys, a matter of common talk that the marquis intends to marry her to the son of the Duke of Sottomayor." " Inez hates him," Gerald Burke said. "It is just like my ill-luck, that instead of being drowned as most of the others were, he has had the luck to get safely back again. However, he is still ill, and likely to be so for some time. He was not so accustomed to starving as some of us, and he suffered accordingly. He is down at his estates near Seville." " But what do you think of doing ? " Geoffrey asked. " That is just what I am asking you." "It seems to me, certainly," Geoffrey went on, "that unless you really mean to run off with the young lady for I suppose there is no chance in the world of your marrying her in any other way it will be better both for you and her that you should avoid for the future these meetings in the gardens or elsewhere, and cast your thoughts in some other direction for the bettering of your fortunes." " That is most sage advice, Geoffrey," the young Irish man laughed, " and worthy of my father-confessor ; but it is not so easy to follow. In the first place, I must tell you that I do not regard Inez as in any way a step to fortune, but rather as a step towards a dungeon. It would be vastly better for us both if she were the daughter of some poor hidalgo like myself. I could settle down then with her, and plant vines and make wine, and sell what I don't drink myself. As it is, I have the chance of being put out of the way if it is discovered that Inez and I are fond of B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 188 each other ; and in the next place, if we do marry I shall jbave to get her safely out of the kingdom, or else she will have to pass the rest of her life in a convent, and I the rest of mine in a prison or in the galleys ; that is if I am not killed as soon as caught, which is by far the most likely result. Obnoxious sons-in-law do not lire long iu Spain. So you see, Geoffrey, the prospect is a bad one altogether ; and if it were not that I dearly love Inez, and that I am sure she will be unhappy with Philip of Sotto- niayor, I would give the whole thing up, and make love to the daughter of some comfortable citizen who would give me a corner of his house and a seat at his table for the rest of my days." " But, seriously " Geoffrey began. " Well, seriously, Geoffrey, my intention is to run away with Inez if it can be managed ; but how it is to be man aged at present I have not the faintest idea. To begin with, the daughter of a Spanish grandee is always kept in a very strong cage closely guarded, and it needs a very large golden key to open it. Xow, as you are aware, gold is a very scarce commodity with me. Then, after getting her out, a lavish expenditure would be needed for our flight. We should have to make our way to the sea-coast, to do all sorts of things to throw dust into the eyes of our pur suers, and to get a passage to some place beyond the domains of Philip, which means either to France, England, or the Netherlands. Beyond all this will be the question of future subsistence until, if ever, the marquis makes up his mind to forgive his daughter and take her to his heart again, a contingency, in my opinion, likely to be extremely remote." ''And what does the Lady Inez say to it all ?" Geoffrey asked. " The Lady Inez has had small opportunity of saying anything on the subject, Geoffrey. Here in Spain there are mighty few opportunities for courtship. With us at 1 84 B T ENGLAND ' 5 AID. home these matters are easy enough, and there is no luck of opportunity for pleading your suit and winning a girl's heart if it is to be won ; but here in Spain matters are altogether different, and an unmarried girl is looked after as sharply as if she was certain to get into some mischief or other the instant she had an opportunity. She is never suffered to be for a moment alone with a man ; out of doors or in she has always a duenna by her side ; and as to a private chat, the thing is simply impossible." " Then how do you manage to make love ? " Geoffrey asked. ' Well, a very little goes a long way in Spain. The manner of a bow, the wave of a fan, the dropping of a glove or flower, the touch of a hand in a crowded room each of these things go as far as a month's open love-making in Ireland." " Then how did you manage with the duenna so as to be able to speak to her in the gardens ? " " Well, in the first place, I made myself very attentive to the duenna ; in the second place, the old lady is devout, and you know Ireland is the land of saints, and I presented her with an amulet containing a paring of the nail of St. Patrick." Geoffrey burst into a laugh, in which the Irishman joined "Well, if it was not really St. Patrick's, "the latter went on, " it came from Ireland anyhow which is the next best thing. Then in the third place, the old lady is very fond of Inez ; and although she is as strict as a dragon, Inez coaxed her into the belief that there could not be any harm in our exchanging a few words when she was close by all the time to hear what was said. Xow, I think you know as much as I do about the matter, Geoffrey. You will under stand that a few notes have been exchanged, and that Inez loves me. Beyond that everything is vague and uncertain, and I have not the slightest idea what will come of it.'' BY ENGLAND'S AID. 185 Some weeks passed and nothing was done. The meet ings between Gerald Burke and Inez in the Gardens of the v Retiro had ceased a day or two afterwards, the duenna having positively refused to allow them to continue, threat ening Inez to inform her father of them unless she gave them up. Gerald Burke's funds dwindled rapidly, although he and Geoffrey lived in the very closest way. " What in the world is to be done, Geoffrey ? I have only got twenty dollars left, which at the outside will pay for our lodgings and food for another month. For the life of me I cannot see what is to be done when that is gone, unless we take to the road." Geoffrey shook his head. "As far as I am concerned," he said, " as we are at war with Spain, it would be fair if I met a Spanish ship at sea to capture and plunder it, but I am afraid the laws of war do not justify private plunder. I should be perfectly ready to go out and take service in a vineyard, or to earn my living in any way if it could be managed/' " I would rob a cardinal if I had the chance," Gerald Burke said, "and if I ever got rich would restore his money four-fold and so obtain absolution ; only, unfortu nately, I do not see my way to robbing a cardinal. As to digging in the fields, Geoffrey, I would rather hang myself at once. I am constitutionally averse to labor, and if one once took to that sort of thing there would be an end to everything." " It is still open to you," Geoffrey said, " to get your friends to obtain a commission for you." "I could do that," Gerald said moodily, "but of all things that is what I should most hate." " You might make your peace with the English govern ment and get some of your estates back again." " That I will not do to feed myself," Gerald Burke said firmly. "I have thought that if I ever carry off Inez I 186 BY ENGLAND S AID. might for her sake do so, for I own that now all hope of help from Spain is at an end, our cause in Ireland is lost, and it is no use going on struggling against the inevitable ; but I am not going to sue the English government as a beggar for myself. No doubt I could borrow small sums from Irishmen and Scotchmen here, and hold on for a few months; but most of them are well-nigh as poor as I am myself, and I would not ask them. Besides, there would be no chance of my repaying them : and if I am to rob anyone, I would rather plunder these rich dons than my own countrymen." " Of one thing I am resolved," Geoffrey said, " I will not live at your expense any longer, Gerald. I can speak Spanish very fairly now, and can either take service in some Spanish family or, as I said get work in the field." Gerald laughed. " My dear Geoffrey, the extra expenses caused by you last week were, as far as I can calculate, one penny for bread and as much for fruit ; the rest of your living was obtained at the expense of my friends." "At any rate," Geoffrey said smiling, " I insist that my money be now thrown into the common fund. I have offered it several times before, but you always said we had best keep it for emergency. I think the emergency has come now, and these ten English pounds in my belt will enable us to take some step or other. The qiiestion is, what step ? They might last us, living as we do, for some three or four months, but at the end of that time we should be absolutely penniless ; therefore now is the time, while we have still a small stock in hand, to decide upon some thing." " But what are we to decide upon ? " Gerald Burke asked helplessly. " I have been thinking it over a great deal," Geoffrey said, " and my idea is that we had best go to Cadiz or some other large port. Although Spain is at war both with England and the Netherlands, trade still goes on in private BY ENGLAND'S AID. 18, ships, and both Dutch and English vessels carry on com merce with Spain ; therefore it seems to me that there Vmst be merchants in Cadiz who would be ready to give employment to men capable of speaking and writing both in Spanish and English, and in my case to a certain extent iii Dutch. From there, too, there might be a chance oi getting a passage to England or Holland. If we fount? that impossible owing to the vessels being too carefully searched before sailing, we might at the worst take passage as sailors on board a Spanish ship bound for the Indies, and take our chance of escape or capture there or on the voyage. That, at least, is what I planned for my self." " I think your idea is a good one, Geoffrey. At any rate to Cadiz we will go. I don't know about the mercan tile business or going as a sailor, but I could get a commis sion from the governor there as well as here in Madrid ; but at any rate I will go. Donna Inez was taken last week by her father to some estates he has somewhere between Seville and Cadiz, in order, I suppose, that he may be nearer Don Philip, who is, I hear, at last recovering from his long illness. I do not know that there is the slightest use in seeing her again, but I will do so if it be possible ; and if by a miracle I could succeed in carrying her off, Cadiz would be a more likely place to escape from than anywhere. * Yes, I know. You think the idea is a mad one, but you have never been in love yet. When you are you wilt know that lovers do not believe in the word ' impossible.' At any rate, I mean to give Inez the chance of determin ing her own fate. If she is ready to risk everything rathe? than marry Don Philip, I am ready to share the risk what ever it maybe." Accordingly on the following day Gerald Burke disposed- of the greater part of his wardrobe and belongings, puv- chased two ponies for a few crowns, and he and Geoii'rey, 188 BY ENGLAND'S AID. with a solitary suit of clothes in a wallet fastened behind the saddle, started for their journey to Cadiz. They mounted outside the city, for Gerald shrank from meeting any acquaintances upon such a sorry steed as he had pur chased ; but once on their way his spirits rose. He laughed and chatted gayly, and spoke of the future as if all difficul ties were cleared away. The ponies, although rough ani mals, were strong and sturdy, and carried their riders at a good pace. Sometimes they traveled alone, sometimes jogged along with parties whom they overtook by the way, or who had slept in the same posadas or inns at which they had put up for the night. Most of these inns were very rough, and, to Geoffrey, astonishingly dirty. The food consisted generally of bread and a miscellaneous olio or stew from a great pot constantly simmering over the fire, the flavor, whatever it might be, being entirely overpowered by that of the oil and garlic that were the most marked of its constituents. Beds were wholly unknown at these places, the guests simply wrapping themselves in their cloaks and lying down on the floor, although in a few exceptional cases bundles of rushes were strewn about to form a common bed. But the traveling was delightful. It was now late in the autumn, and when they were once past the dreary dis trict of La Mancha, and had descended to the rich plains of Cordova, the vintage was in full progress and the har vest everywhere being garnered in. Their mid-day meal consisted of bread and fruit, costing but the smallest coin, and eaten by the wayside in the shade of a clump of trees. They heard many tales on their way down of the bands of robbers who infested the road, but having taken the pre caution of having the doubloons for which they had ex changed Geoffrey's English gold sewn up in their boots, they had no fear of encountering these gentry, having nothing to lose save their wallets and the few dollars they had kept out for the expenses of their journey. The few BY ENGLAND 1 S AID. 189 jewels that Gerald Burke retained were sewn up iu the Stuffing of his saddle. After ten days' travel they reached Seville, where they stayed a couple of days, and where the wealth and splendor of the buildings surprised Geoffrey, who- had not visited Antwerp or any of the great commercial centers of the Netherlands. " It is a strange taste of the Spanish king," he observed to Gerald Burke, " to plant their capital at Madrid in the center of a barren country, when they might make such a splendid city as this their capital, I could see no charms whatever in Madrid. The climate was detestable, with its hot sun and bitter cold winds. Here the temperature is delightful ; the air is soft and balmy, the country round is a garden, and there is a cathedral worthy of a capital." " It seems a strange taste," Gerald agreed ; " but I be lieve that when Madrid was first planted it stood in the midst of extensive forests, and that it was merely a hunt ing residence for the king." " Then, when the forests went I would have gone too," Geoffrey said. " Madrid has not even a river worthy of the name, and has no single point to recommend it, as far as I can see, for the capital of a great empire. If I were a Spaniard I should certainly take up my residence in Seville." Upon the following morning they again started, joining, before they had ridden many miles, a party of three mer chants traveling with their servants to Cadiz. The merchants looked a little suspiciously at first at the two young men upon their rough steeds ; but as soon as they discovered from their first salutations that they were foreigners, they became more cordial, and welcomed this accession of strength to their party, for the carrying of weapons was universal, and the portion of the road be tween Seville and Cadiz particularly unsafe, as it was traversed by so many merchants and wealthy people. The 1 90 BY EX GLAND ' S AID. conversation speedily turned to the disturbed state of the roads. " I do not think,*' one of the merchants said, " that auy ordinary band of robbers would dare attack us," and lie looked round with satisfaction at the six armed servants who rode behind them. ' It all depends," Gerald Burke said, with a sly wink at Geoffrey, " upon what value the robbers may place upon the valor of your servants. As a rule serving-men are very chary of their skins, and I should imagine that the (robbers must be pretty well aware of that fact. Most of them are disbanded soldiers or deserters, and I should say that four of them are more than a match for your six servants. I would wager that your men would make but a very poor show of i *' it came to fighting." " But there are i ur three selves and you two gentle men," the merchant said in a tone of disquiet. " Well," Gerald rejoined, " I own that from your ap pearance I should not think, worshipful sir, that fighting was altogether in your line. Now, my servant, young as he is, has taken part in much fighting in the Netherlands, and I myself have had some experience with my sword ; but if we were attacked by robbers we should naturally stand neutral. Having nothing to defend, and having no inclination whatever to get our throats cut in protecting the property of others, I think that you will see for your selves that that is reasonable. TVe are soldiers of fortune, ready to venture our lives in a good service, and for good pay, but mightily disinclined to throw them away for th* mere love of fighting." BY ENGLAXV f CHAPTER XIL RECRUITING THEIM FUNDS. As soon as Gerald Bnrke began conversing with the merchants, Geoffrey fell back and took his place among their servants, with whom he at once entered into conver sation. To amuse himself he continued in the same strain that he had heard Geraid adopt towards the merchants, and spoke in terms of apprehension of the dangers of the journey, and of the rough treatment that had befallen those who had ventured to offer opposition to the robbers. He was not long in discovering, by the anxious glances they cast round them, and by the manner of their ques tions, that some at least of the party were not to be relied upon in case of an encounter. He was rather surprised at Geralfl remaining so long in company with the merchants, for thffir pace was a slow one, as they were followed by eight heavily-laden mules, driven by two muleteers, and it would have been much pleasanter, he thought, to have trotted on at their usua.]! pace. About midday, as they were passing along the edge of a thick wood, a party of men suddenly sprang out and ordered them to halt. Geoffrey shouted to the men with him to come on, and drawing his sword dashed for ward. Two of the men only followed him. The others hesi tated, until a shot from a musket knocked off one of theis hats, whereupon the man and his comrades turned their horses* heads and rode off at fall speed. The merchants 192 BY ENGLAND ' S AID. had drawn their swords, and stood on the defensive, and Geoffrey on reaching them, was surprised to find that Gerald Burke was sitting quietly on his horse without any apparent intention of taking part in the fight. " Put up your sword, Geoffrey," he said calmly ; " thia affair is no business of ours. "We have nothing to lose, and it is no business of ours to defend the money-bags of these gentlemen." The robbers, eight in number, now rushed up. One of the merchants, glancing round, saw that two of their men only had come up to their assistance. The muleteers, who were probably in leagite with the robbers, had fled, leaving their animals standing in the road. The prospect seemed desperate. One of the merchants was an elderly man, the others were well on middle age. The mules were laden with valuable goods, and they had with them a consider able sum of money for making purchases at Cadiz. It was no time for hesitation. " We will give you five hundred crowns if you will both aid us to beat off these robbers." " It is a bargain," Gerald replied. " Xow, Geoffrey, have at these fellows ! " Leaping from their ponies they ranged themselves by the merchants just as the robbers attacked them. Had it not been for their aid the combat would have been a short one , for although determined to defend their property to the last, the traders had neither strength nor skill at arms. One was unhorsed at the first blow, and another wounded ; but Jie two servants, who had also dismounted, fought stur dily, and Gerald and Geoffrey each disposed of a man be fore the robbers, who had not reckoned upon their inter ference, were prepared to resist their attack. The fight did not last many minutes. The traders did their best, and although by no means formidable opponents, distracted the attention of the robbers, who were startled by the fall oJL two of their party. Geoffrey received a sharp cut on the BY EN GLASD ' S A ID. 193 head, but at the same moment ran his opponent through the body, while Gerald Burke cut down the man opposed to him. The other four robbers, seeing they were now out numbered, at once took to their heels. " By St. Jago !" one of the traders said, "you are stout fighters, young men, and have won your fee well. Me- thought we should have lost our lives as well as our goods, and I doubt not we should have done so had you not ranged yourselves with us. Now, let us bandage up our wounds, for we have all received more or less hurt." When the wounds, some of which were serious, were at tended to, the fallen robbers were examined. Three of them were dead ; but the man last cut down by Gerald Burke seemed likely to recover, " Shall we hang him upon a tree as a warning to these knaves, or shall we take him with us to the next town and give him in charge of the authorities there ? " one of the traders asked. "If I were you I would do neither," Gerald said, "but would let him go free if he will tell you the truth about this attack. It will be just as well for you to get to the bottom of this affair, and find out whether it is a chance meeting, or whether any of your own people have been in league with him." "That is a good idea," the trader agreed, "and I will carry it out," and going up to the man, who had now re covered his senses, he said to him sternly: "We have made up our minds to hang you ; but you may save your life if you will tell us how you came to set upon us. Speak the truth and you shall go free, otherwise we will finish with you without delay." The robber, seeing an unexpected chance of escape from punishment, at once said that the captain in their band, who was the man Geoffrey had last run through, came out from Seville the evening before, and told him that one Juan Campos, with whom he had long had intimate rel- 194 BY ENGLAND'S AID. tious, and who was clerk to a rich trader, had, upon prom ise that he should receive one-fifth of the booty taken, informed him that his master with two other merchants was starting 011 the following morning for Cadiz with a very valuable lot of goods, and twenty-five thousand crowns, which they intended to lay out in the purchase of goods brought by some galleons that had just arrived from the Indies. He had arranged to bribe his master's two servants to ride away when they attacked the gang, and also to settle with the muleteers so that they should take no part iu the affair. They had reckoned that the flight of two of the servants would probably affect the others, and had therefore expected the rich booty to fall into their hands without the trouble of striking a blow for it. BY ENGLAND ' S AID. Gerald himself had not at first entertained any idea of treachery ; but Geoffrey Lad pointed out that it was quite possible that the robbers and the muleteer had but feigned acquiescence in his proposals in order to get him into their power, and take revenge for the loss of their captain and comrades, and of the valuable booty which had so unex pectedly slipped through their fingers owing to his inter vention. The appearance of the six ruffians gathered in the low room, lighted by a wretched lamp, was not very assuring, and Gerald kept his hand on the butt of one of his pistols. The four robbers who had been engaged in the fray, however, saluted him respectfully, and the other two mem bers of the band, who had been absent on other business, followed their example. They had heard from those pres ent of the extraordinary valor with which the two travel ing companions of the trader had thrown themselves into the fray, and had alone disposed of their four comrades, and being without a leader, and greatly disheartened by their ill-luck, they were quite ready to forgive the mis fortunes Gerald had brought upon them, and to accept such a redoubtable swordsman as their leader. Gerald began the conversation. " You have heard/' he said, "from our friend here of the offer I make you. I desire a band of six men on whom I can rely for an advent ure which promises large profit. Don't suppose that I am going to lead you to petty robberies on the road, in which, as you learned to your cost the other day, one sometimes gets more hard knocks than profit. Such adventurer may do for petty knaves, but they are not suited to me. The way to get wealthy is to strike at the rich. My idea is to establish some place in an out-of-the-way quarter where there is no fear of prying neighbors, and to carry off and hide there the sons and daughters of wealthy men and put them to ransom. In the first instance I am going to undertake a private affair of my own ; and as you will BY ENGLAND'S AID. 207 really run no risk in the matter, for I shall separate mysell from you after making my capture, I shall pay you only an earnest-money of twenty crowns each. In future affairs we shall act upon the principle of shares. I shall take three shares, a friend who works with me will take two Bliares, and you shall take one share apiece. The risk will really be entirely mine, for I shall take charge of the cap tives we make at our rendezvous. You, after lending a hand in the capture, will return here and hold yourself in readiness to join me, and carry out another capture as soon as I have made all the necessary arrangements. Thus, if by any chance we are tracked, I alone and my friend will run the risk of capture and punishment. In that way we may, in the course of a few months, amass a much larger booty than we should in a lifetime spent in these wretched adventures upon travelers. ' ' Now, it is for you to say whether these terms will suit you, and whether you are ready to follow my orders and obey me implicitly. The whole task of making the neces sary arrangements, or finding out the habits of the families one of whose members we intend carrying off, of bribing nurses or duennas, will be all my business. You will simply have to meet when you are summoned to aid in the actual enterprise, and then, when our captive is safely housed, to return here or scatter where you will and live at ease until again summoned. The utmost fidelity will be necessary. Large rewards will in many cases be offered for the discovery of the missing persons, and one traitor would bring ruin upon us all ; therefore it will be abso lutely necessary that you take an oath of fidelity to me, and swear one and all to punish the traitor with death. Do you agree to my proposal ? " There was a unanimous exclamation of assent. The plan seemed to offer probabilities of large booty with a minimum of trouble and risk. One or two suggested that they should like to join in the first capture on the same 208 Sr ENGLAND 'S AID. terms as the others, but Gerald at once pronounced this to be impossible. " This is my own affair/' he said, " and money is not now my object. As you will only be required to meet at a given hour some evening, and to carry off a captive who will not be altogether unwilling to come, there will be little or no risk in the matter, and twenty crowns will not be bad pay for an evening's work. After that you will, as I have said, share in the profits of all future captures we may undertake." The band all agreed, and at once took solemn oaths of fidelity to their new leader, and swore to punish by death any one of their numbe*. who should betray the secrets of the body. " That is well/' Gerald said when the oaths had been taken. " It may be a week before you receive your first summons. Here are five crowns apiece for your expenses up to that time. Let one of you be in front of the great church as the clock strikes eight morning and evening. Do not wait above five minutes ; if I am coming I shall be punctual. In the meantime take counsel among your selves as to the best hiding-place that can be selected. Be tween you you no doubt know every corner and hole in the country. I want a place which will be at once lonely and far removed from other habitations, but it must be at the same time moderately comfortable, as the captives we take must have no reason to complain of their treatment while in my hands. Think this matter over before I again see you." Gerald then joined Geoffrey outside, and found that the latter was beginning to be anxious at his long absence. After a few words saying that everything had been success fully arranged, the two friends returned together to their inn. BY ENGLAND'S AW. CHAPTER XIII. THE FESTA AT SEVILLE. AND now, Gerald, that you have made your arrange ments for the second half of the plan, how are you going to set about the first ? because you said that you intended to give Donna Inez the option of flying with you or remain ing with her father." " So I do still. Before I make any attempt to carry her off I shall first learn whether she is willing to run the risks." " But how are you going to set about it ? You may be quite sure that she never goes outside the garden without having her duenna with her. If there is a chapel close by, doubtless she will go there once a day ; and it seems to me that this would be the best chance of speaking to her, for I do not see how you can possibly introduce yourself into the grounds." " That would be quite out of the question, in daylight at any rate, Geoffrey. I do not suppose she ever goes be yond the terrace by the house. Bat if I could communi cate with her she might slip out for a few minutes after dark, when the old lady happened to be taking a nap. The question is how to get a letter into her hands." '' I think I might manage that, Gerald. It is not likely that the duenna ever happened to notice me. I might there fore put on any sort of disguise as a beggar and take my place on the road as she goes to chapel, and somehow or other get your note into her hand. I have heard Span ish girls are very quick at actinar uiaon the smallest sien, U 210 BY ENGLAND'S AID. and if I can manage to catch her eye for a moment she may probably be ingenious enough to afford me an opportunity of passing the note to her." " That might be done," Gerald agreed. "We will at once get disguises. I will dress myself as an old soldier, with one arm in a sling and a patch over my eye ; you dress up in somewhat the same fashion as a sailor boy. It is about twelve miles from here to Ribaldo's place. We can walk that easily enough, dress ourselves up within a mile or two of the place, and then go on and reconuoiter the ground." " I should advise you to write your note before you start ; it may be that some unexpected opportunity for handing it to her may present itself." " I will do that : but let us sally out first and pick up two suits at some dealer in old clothes. There will be sure to be two or three of these in the poorer quarter." The disguises were procured without difficulty, and put ting them in a small wallet they started before noon on their walk. In four hours they reached the boundary of the Marquis of Ribaldo's estate. Going into a wood they assumed the disguises, packed their own clothes in a wal let, and hid this away in a clump of bushes. Then they again started Gerald Burke with his arm in a sling and Geoffrey limping along with the aid of a thick stick he had cut in the wood. On arriving at the village, a quarter of a mile from the gates of the mansion, they went into a small wine-shop and called for two measures of the cheapest wine and a louf of bread. Here they sat for some time, listening to the conversation of the peasants who frequented the wine shop. Sometimes a question was asked of the wayfarers. Gerald replied, for his companion's Spanish although fluent was not good enough to pass as that of a native. He re plied to the question as to where they had received their hurts that they were survivors of the Armada, and grum- BY ENGLAND'S AID. 211 bled that it was hard indeed that men who had fought in the Netherlands and had done their duty to their country should be turned adrift to starve. " We have enough to pay for our supper and a night's lodging," he said, " but where we are going to take our meal to-morrow is more than I can say, unless we can meet with some charitable people." " If you take your place by the roadside to-morrow morning," one of the peasants said, " you may obtain charity from Donna Inez de Ribaldo. She comes every morning to mass here ; and they say she has a kind heart, which is more than men give her father the marquis the credit of possessing. We have not many poor round here, for at this time of year all hands are employed in the vine yards, therefore there is the more chance of your obtaining a little help." " Thank you ; I will take your advice," Gerald said. " I suppose she is sure to come ?" " She is sure enough ; she never misses when she is stay ing here." That night the friends slept on a bundle of straw in an outhouse behind the wine-shop, and arranged everything ; and upon the following morning took their seats by the roadside near the village. The bell of the chapel was al ready sounding, and in a few minutes they saw two ladies approaching, followed at a very short distance by a serving- man. They had agreed that the great patch over Gerald's eye, aided by the false mustachios, so completely dis guised his appearance that they need have no fear of his being recognized ; and it was therefore decided he should do the talking. As Donna Inez came up he commenced calling out : " Have pity, gracious ladies, upon two broken-down soldiers. We have gone through all the dan gers and hardships of the terrible voyage of the great Ar- inada. We served in the ship San Josef, and are now broken down, and have no means of earning our living. " 212 BY ENGLAND'S AID. Gerald had somewhat altered Lis natural voice while speaking, but Geoffrey was watching Donna Inez closely, and saw her start when he began to speak ; and when he said they had been on board the San Josef a flush of color came across her face. " We must relieve these poor men/' she said to the du enna ; "it is pitiful to see them in such a state." " We know not that their tale is true," the duenna re plied sharply. "Every beggar in our days pretends to be a broken-down soldier." At this moment Donna Inez happened to glance at Geof frey, who raised his hand to his face and permitted a cor ner of a letter to be momentarily seen. "An impostor !" Gerald cried in a loud voice. "To think that I, suffering from my terrible wounds, should be taken as an impostor," and with a hideous yell he tumbled down as if in a fit, and rolled over and over on the ground towards the duenna. Seized with alarm at hio approach, she turned and ran a few paces backward. As slic did so Geoffrey stepped up to Inez and held out the note, which she took and con cealed instantly in her dress. "There is nothing to be ularmed at," she cried to the duenna. " The poor man is doubtless in a fit. Here, my poor fellow, get aid for your comrade," and taking out her purse she handed a dollar to Geoffrey, and then joining the duenna proceeded on her way. Geoffrey knelt beside his prostrate companion and ap peared to be endeavoring to restore him, until the ladies and their servant were out of sight. "That was well managed," Gerald Burke said, sitting up as soon as a turn of the road hid them from view. " Kow we shall have our answer to-morrow. Thank goodness there is no occasion for us to remain any longer in these garments ! " They went to the wood and resumed their usual attire, . Aid 1 GEOFFREY GIVES INEZ HER LOVER s NOTE. Paje BY ENGLAND ' S AID. 213 and then walked to a large village some four miles away, $nd putting up at the principal inn remained there until early the next morning ; than they walked back to the village they had left on the previous day and posted them selves in a thicket by the roadside, so that they could see passers-by without being themselves observed. " My fate will soon be decided now," Gerald said. " Will she wear a white flower or not ? " " I am pretty sure that she will/' Geoffrey said. " She would not have started and colored when she recognized your voice if she did not love you. I do not think you need be under much uneasiness on that score." In half an hour the ladies again came along, followed as before by their servants. Donna Inez wore a bunch of white flowers in her dress. " There is my answer/' Gerald said. " Thank heaven ! she loves me, and is ready to fly with me, and will steal out some time after dark to meet me in the garden." As there was no occasion for him to stay longer, Geoffrey returned to the village where they slept the night before, and accounted for his companion's absence by saying that he had been detained on business and would probably not return until late at night, as he would not be able to see the person with whom he had affairs to transact until late. It was past ten o'clock when Gerald Burke returned. " It is all arranged, Geoffrey. I hid in the garden close by the terrace as soon as it became dark. An hour later she came out and sauntered along the terrace until I softly called her name ; then she came to me. She loves me with all her heart, and is ready to share my fate whatever it may be. Her father only two days ago had ordered her to pre pare for her marriage with Don Philip, and she was in despair until she recognized my voice yesterday morning. She is going with her father to a grand f esta at Seville next Wednesday. They will stop there two nights the one before the festa and the one after. I told her that I could 214 BY ENGLAND 1 S AID. not say yet whether I should make the attempt to carry her off on her journey or after her return here, as that must depend upon circumstances. At any rate, that gives us plenty of time to prepare our plans. To-morrow we will hire horses and ride to Seville, and I will there arrange with one of my friends at the Irish College to perform the ceremony. However, we will talk it all over to-morrow as we ride. I feel as sleepy as a dog now after the day's excitement." Upon the road next day they agreed that if possible they would manage to get Inez away in Seville itself. Owing to the large number of people who would be attracted there to witness the grand procession and high mass at the cathedral, the streets would be crowded, and it might be possible for Inez to slip away from those with her. If this could be managed it would be greatly preferable to the employment of the men to carry her off by force. There fore they agreed that the band should be posted so that the party could be intercepted on its way back ; but that this should be a last resource, and that if possible Inez should be carried off in Seville itself. On reaching Seville they put up at an inn. Gerald at once proceeded to the Irish College. Here he inquired for a young priest, who had been a near neighbor of his in Ireland and a great friend of his boyhood. He was, he knew, about to return home. He found that he was at the moment away from Seville, having gone to supply the place of a village cure who had been taken suddenly ill. This village was situated, he was told, some six miles south east of the town. It was already late, in the afternoon, but time was precious ; and Gerald, hiring a fresh horse, rode out at once to the village, ilis friend was delighted to see him, for they had not met since Gerald passed through Seville on his way to join the Armada at Cadiz, and the young priest had not heard whether he had escaped the nerils of the vovaee. B F ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 215 " It is lucky you have come, Gerald/' he said when the vfirst greetings were over, "for I am going to return to Ireland in a fortnight's time. I am already appointed to a charge near Cork, and am to sail in a Bristol ship which is expected in Cadiz about that time. Is there any chance of my meeting you there ? " " An excellent chance, Denis, though my route is not as clearly marked out as yours is. I wish to heaven that I could go by the same ship. And that leads to what I have come to see you about," and he then told his friend the service he wished him to render. " It is rather a serious business, Gerald ; and a nice scrape I should get in if it were found out that I had solemnized the marriage of a young lady under age with out the consent of her father, and that father a powerful nobleman. However, I am not the man to fail you at a pinch, and if matters are well managed there is not much risk of its being found out that I had a hand in it until I am well away, and once in Ireland no one is likely to make any great fuss over my having united a runaway pair in Spain. Besides, if you and the young lady have made up your minds to run away, it is evidently necessary that you should be married at once ; so my conscience is perfectly clear in the business. And now, what is your plan ? " " The only part of my plan that is settled is to bring her here and marry her. After that I shall have horses ready, and we will ride by unfrequented roads to Malaga or some other port and take a passage in a ship sailing say to Italy, for there is no chance of getting a vessel hence to England. Once in Italy there will be no difficulty in getting a passage to England. I have with me a young Englishman, as staunch a friend as one can need. I need not tell you all about how I became acquainted with him ; but he is as anxious to get out of Spain as I am, and that is saying no little." "It seems rather a vague plan, Gerald. There is sure 216 BY ENGLAND'S AID. to be a great hue and cry as soon as the young lady is found to be missing. The marquis is a man of great influence, and the authorities will use every effort to en able him to discover her." " You see, Denis, they will have no reason for supposing that I have had any hand in the matter, and therefore no special watch will be set at the ports. The duenna for her own sake is not likely to say a word about any passages she may have observed between us at Madrid, and she is unaware that there have been any communications with her since. " " I suppose you will at once put on disguises, Gerald.** ' Yes, that will of course be the first thing. " " If you dress her as a young peasant woman of the better class and yourself as a small cultivator, I will mention to my servant that I am expecting my newly-married niece and her husband to stay with me for a few days. The old woman will have no idea that I, an Irishman, would not have a Spanish niece, and indeed I do not suppose that she has any idea that I am not a Spaniard. I will open the church myself and perform the service late in the evening, so that no one will be aware of what is going on. Of course I can put up your friend too. Then you can stay quietly here as long as you like." " That will do admirably, Denis ; but I think we had best go on the next morning," Gerald said, "although it will be a day or two before there is anything like an organized pursuit. It will be supposed that she is in Se ville, and inquiries will at first be confined to that town. If she leaves a note behind saying that she is determined even, to take the veil rather than marry the man her father has chosen for her, that will cause additional de lay. It will be supposed that she is concealed in the house of some friend, or that she has sought a refuge in a nun nery, and at any rate there is not likely to be any search over the country for some days, especially as her father BY ENGLAND'S AID. 217 will naturally be anxious that what he will consider an act of rebellion on the part of his daughter shall not become ^publicly known." " All this, of course, is if we succeed in getting her clear away during the fete. If we have to fall back on the other plan I was talking of and carry her off by force on the way home, the search will be immediate and general. In that case nothing could be better than your plan that we should stop here quietly for a few days with you. They will be searching for a band of robbers and will not dream of making inquiry for the missing girl in a quiet village like this." " Well, we will leave that open, Gerald. I shall let it be known that you are expected, and whenever you arrive you will be welcome." As soon as the point was arranged Gerald again mounted his horse and returned to Seville. There upon the follow ing morning he engaged a lodging for the three days of the festa in a quiet house in the outskirts of the town, and they then proceeded to purchase the various articles neces sary for their disguise and that of Inez. The next morn ing they started on their return to Jerea. Here Gerald made arrangements with the band to meet him in a wood on the road to Cadiz at eight in the morning on the dy following the termination of the festa at Seville. One of the party was to proceed on that day to the house among the hills they had fixed upon as their hiding-place, and to get provisions and everything requisite for the reception of their captive. They received another five crowns each, the remaining fifteen was to be paid them as soon as they arrived with their captive at the house. The party remained in ignorance as to the age and sex of the person they were to carry off, and had little curio sity as to the point, as they regarded this but a small ad venture in comparison to the lucrative schemes in which they were afterwards to be sharers. 218 BY ENGLAND'S AID. These arrangements made, Gerald and Geoffrey returned to Seville, and reached that city on the eve of the com mencement of the festa, and took up their abode at the lodging they had hired. On the following morning they posted themselves in the street by which the party they ex pected would arrive. Both were attired in quiet citizen dress, and Gerald retained his formidable mustachios and bushy eyebrows. In two or three hours a coach accompanied by four lackeys on horseback came up the street, and they saw that it contained the Marquis of Kibaldo, his daughter, and her duenna. They followed a short distance behind it until it entered the courtyard of a stately mansion, which they learnt on inquiry from a passer-by belonged to the Duke of Sottomayor. The streets were already crowded with people in holiday attire, the church bells were ringing, and flags and decorations of all kinds waved along the route that was to be followed by the great procession. The house did not stand on this line, and it was necessary therefore for its inmates to pass through the crowd either to the cathedral or to the balcony of the house from which they might intend to view the procession pass. Half an hour after the arrival of the coach, the marquis and his daughter, accompanied by Don Philip de Sotto mayor, sallied out, escorted by six armed lackeys, and took their way towards the cathedral. They had, however, ar rived very late, and the crowd had already gathered s? densely that even the efforts of the lackeys and the angry commands of the marquis and Don Philip failed to enable them to make a passage. Very slowly indeed they ad vanced some distance into the crowd, but each moment their progress became slower. Gerald and Geoffrey had fallen in behind them and advanced with them as they worked themselves in the crowd. Angry at what they considered the impertinence of the people for refusing to make way for them, the nobles pressed BY ENGLAND'S AID. 219 forward and engaged in an angry controversy with those in front, who urged, and truly, that it was simply impos sible for them to make a way, so wedged in were they by the people on all sides. The crowd, neither knowing nor caring who were those who thus wished to take precedence of the first comers, began to jeer and laugh at the angry nobles, and when these threatened to use force threatened in return. As soon as her father had left her side, Gerald, who was immediately behind Inez, whispered in her ear, "Xow is the time, Inez. Go with my friend ; I will occupy the old woman." " Keep close to me, seiiora, and pretend that you are ill," Geoffrey said to her, and without hesitation Inez turned and followed him, drawing her mantilla more closely over her face. " Let us pass, friends," Geoffrey said as he elbowed his way through those standing behind them, ' ' the lady needs air," and by vigorous efforts he presently arrived at the outskirts of the crowd, and struck off with his charge in the direction of their lodging. " Gerald Burke will fol low us as soon as he can get out," he said. "Everything is prepared for you, senora, and all arrangements made." " Who are you, sir ? " the girl asked. " I do not recall your face, and yet I seem to have seen it before." " I am English, seiiora, and am a friend of Gerald Burke's. When in Madrid I was disguised as his servant ; for as an Englishman and a heretic it would have gone hard with me had I been detected." There were but few people in the streets through which they passed, the whole population having flocked either to the streets through which the procession was to pass, or to the cathedral or churches it was to visit on its way. Gerald Lad told Inez at their interview that, although he had made arrangements for carrying her off by force on the journey to or from Seville, he should, if possible, take ad- 2-20 B T ENGLAND '5 AID. Tuutuge of the crowd at the function to draw her away from her companions. She had, therefore, put on her thickest lace mantilla, and this now completely covered her face from the yiew of passers-by. Several times she glanced back." " Do not be uneasy about him, seSora," Geoffrey said. " He will not try to extricate himself from the crowd until you are discovered to be missing, as to do so would be to attract attention. As soon as your losa is discovered he will make his way out, and will then come on at the top of his speed to the place whither I am conducting you, and I expect that we shall find him at the door awaiting us." A quarter of an hour's walk took them to the lodging, and Inez gave a little cry of joy as the door was opened to them by Gerald himself. " The people of the house are all out," he said, after their first greeting. " In that room you will find a peasant girl's dress. Dress yourself as quickly as you can ; wo shall be ready for you in attire to match. Yon had best do up your own things into a bundle, which I will carry. If they were left here they might, when the news of your being missing gets abroad, afford a clue to the manner of your escape. I will tell you all about the arrangements we have made as we go along. " " Have you arranged " and she hesitated. " Yes, an Irish priest, who is an old friend of mine, will perform the ceremony this evening." A few minutes later two seeming peasants and a peasant girl issued out from the lodging. The two men carried stout sticks with bundles slung over them. " Be careful of that bundle," Inez said, "for there are all my jewels in it. After what you had said I concealed them all about me. They are my fortune, you know. Kow, tell me how you got on in the crowd." " I first pushed rather roughly against the duenna, and then made the most profuse apoloaries, saying that it wa B T ENGLAND ' S AID. 221 shameful people should crowd so, and that they ought at i>nce to make way for a lady who was evidently of high rank. This mollified her, and we talked for three or four minutes ; and in the meantime the row in front, caused by your father and the lackeys quarreling with the peo ple, grew louder and louder. The old lady became much alarmed, and indeed the crowd swayed about so that she clung to my arm. Suddenly she thought of you, and turning round gave a scream when she found you were missing. ' What is the matter ? ' I asked anxiously. ' The young lady with me ! She was here but an instant ago!* (She had forgotten you for fully five minutes.) ' What can have become of her ? ' " I suggested that no doubt yon were close by, but had got separated from her by the pressure of the crowd. However, she began to squall so loudly that the marquis looked round. He was already in a towering rage, and he asked angrily, ' What are you making all this noise about ?' and then looking round exclaimed, ' Where is Inez ? ' * She was here a moment since ! ' the old lady exclaimed, ' and now she has got separated from me.' Your father looked in vain among the crowd, and demanded whether any one had seen you. Some one said that a lady who was fainting had made her way out five minutes before. The marquis used some strong language to the old lady, and then informed Don Philip what had happened, and made his way back out cf the crowd with the aid of the lackeys, and is no doubt inquiring for you in all the houses near ; but, as you may imagine, I did not wait. I fol lowed close behind them until they were out of the crowd, and then slipped away, and once round the corner took to my heels and made my way back, and got in two or three minutes before you arrived." The two young men talked almost continuously during their walk to the village in order to keep up the spirits of Donna Inez, and to prevent her from thinking of the 222 BY ENGLAND'S AID. strangeness o_ uer position and the perils that lay befoiu them before safety could be obtained. Only once she spoke of the future. " Is it true, Gerald, that there are always storms and rain in your country, and that you never see the sun, for so some of those who were in the Armada have told me ? " " It rains there sometimes, Inez, I am bound to admit ; but it is often fine, and the sun never burns one up as it does here. I promise you you will like it, dear, when you once become accustomed to it." " I do not think I shall/' she said, shaking her head ; " I am accustomed to the sun, you know. But I would rather be with you even in such an island as they told me of than in Spain with Don Philip." The village seemed absolutely deserted when they arrived there, the whole population having gone over to Seville to take part in the great fete. Father Denis received his fair visitor with the greatest kindness. " Here, Catherine," he cried to his old servant, " here are the visitors I told you I expected. It is well that we have the chambers prepared, and that we killed that capon this morning." That evening Gerald Burke and Inez de Ribaldo were married in the little church, Geoffrey Vickars being the only witness. The next morning there was a long con sultation over their plans. " I could buy you a cart in the village and a pair of oxen, and you could drive to Malaga," the priest said, ' ' but there would be a difficulty about changing your disguises after you had entered the town. I think that the boldest plan will be the safest one. I should propose that yon should ride as a well-to- do trader to Malaga, with your wife behind yon on a pillion, and your friend here as your servant. Lost as your wife was in the crowd at the fete, it will be a long time before the fact that she has fled will be realized. For a day or two the search will be conducted secretly, and only when the house of every friend whom she might BY ENGLAND'S AID. 223 have visited has been searched will the aid of the author- Cities be called in, and the poorer quarters, where she might have been carried by two or three ruffian who may have met her as she emerged in a fainting cone - ; : ion, as is sup posed, from the crowd, be ransacked. 1 do not imagine that any search will be made throughout the country round for a week at least, by which time you will have reached Malaga, and, if you have good fortune, be on board a ship." This plan was finally agreed to. Gerald and his friend at once went over to Seville and purchased the necessary dresses, together with two strong horses and equipments. It was evening before their return to the village. Instead of entering it at once they rode on a mile further, and fastened the horses up in a wood. Gerald would have left them there alone, but Geoffrey insisted on staying with them for the ni /lit. " I care nothing about sleeping in the open air, Gerald, and it would be folly to risk the success of our enterprise upon the chance of no one hap pening to come through the wood, and finding the animals before you return in the morning. AVe had a hearty meal at Seville, and I shall do very well until morning." Gerald and his wife took leave of the friendly priest at daybreak the next morning, with the hope that they would very shortly meet in Ireland. They left the village before any one was stirring. The peasant clothes had been left behind them. Gerald carried two valises, the one containing the garments in which Inez had fled, the other his own attire Geoffrey having resumed the dress he had formerly worn as his servant. On arriving at the wood the party mounted, and at once proceeded on their journey. Four days' travel took them to Malaga, where they arrived without any adventure whatever. Once or twice they met parties of rough-look ing men ; but traveling as they did without baggage 224 B T ENGLAND ' S AW. animals, they did not appear promising subjects for rob bery, and the determined appearance of master and man, each armed with sword and pistols, deterred the fellows from an attempt which promised more hard knocks than plunder. After putting up at an inn in Malaga, Gerald went down at once to the port to inquire for a vessel bound foi Italy. There were three or four such vessels in the har bor, and he had no difficulty in arranging for a passage to Naples for himself, his wife, and servant. The vessel was to sail on the following morning, and it was with a deep feeling of satisfaction and relief that they went on board her, and an hour later were outside the port. " It seems marvelous to me/' Gerald said, as he looked back upon the slowly-receding town, " that I have man aged to carry off my prize with so little difficulty. I had expected to meet with all sorts of dangers, and had I been the peaceful trader I looked, our journey could not be more uneventful." " Perhaps you are beginning to think that the prize is not so very valuable after all/' Inez said, " since you have won it so easily." " I have not begun to think so yet," Gerald laughed happily. " At any rate I shall wait until I get you home before such ideas begin to occur to me." " Directly I get to Ireland," Inez said, " I shall write to my father and tell him that I am married to you, and that I should never have run away had he not insisted on my marrying a man I hated. I shall, of course, beg him to forgive me ; but I fear he never will." " We must hope that he will, Inez, and that he will ask you to come back to Spain sometimes. I do not care for myself, you know, for as I have told you my estate in Ireland is amply large enough for my wants ; but I shall be glad, for your sake, that you should be reconciled to lum. B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AI&. 225 Inez shook her head. " You do not know my father, Gerald. I would never go back to Spain again not if he promised to give me his whole fortune. My father never forgives ; and were he to entice me back to Spain, it would be only to shut me up and to obtain a dispensation from Rome annulling the marriage, which he would have no difficulty in doing. No, you have got me, and will have to keep me for good. I shall never return to Spain, never. Possibly when my father hears from me he may send me over money to make me think he has forgiven me, and to induce me some day or other to come back to visit him, and so get me into his power again j but that, Gerald, he shall never do." 15 226 ^Y ENGLAND '8 AW. CHAPTER XIV. THE SUfiPlilSE OF BBEDA. LIONEL VICKARS had, by the beginning of 1590, come to speak the Dutch language well and fluently. Includ ing his first stay in Holland he had now been there eight een months, and as he was in constant communication with the Dutch officers and with the population, he had constant occasion for speaking Dutch, a language much mors akin to English than any other continental tongue, and indeed so closely allied to the dialect of the eastern counties of England, that the fishermen of our eastern ports had in those days little difficulty in conversing with the Hollanders. He was one day supping with Sir Francis Vere when Prince Maurice and several of his officers were also there. The conversation turned upon the prospects of the campaign of the ensuing spring. Lionel, of course, took no part in it, but listened attentively to what was being said, and was very pleased to find that the period of inactivity was draw ing to an end, and that their commanders considered that they had now gathered a force of sufficient strength to as sume the offensive. "I would," Prince Maurice said, "that we could gain Breda. The city stands like a great sentinel against every movement towards Flanders, and enables the Spaniards to penetrate at all times towards the heart of our country ; but I fear that it is altogether beyond our means. It is one of the strongest cities in the Netherlands, and my an cestors, who were its lords, little thought that they were BY ENGLAND'S AID. 227 fortifying and strengthening it in order that it might be a thorn in the side of their country. I would give much, ^indeed, to be able to wrest it from the enemy ; but I fear it will be long before we can even hope for that. It could withstand a regular siege by a well-provided army for months ; and as to surprise, it is out of the question, for J BREDA 1590. I hear that the utmost vigilance is unceasingly main tained.'' A few days after this Lionel was talking with Captain de Heraugiere, who had also been at the supper. He had taken part in the defense of Sluys, and was one of the officers with whom Lionel was most intimate. "It. would be a rare enterprise to surprise Breda," Cat>- 228 B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. tain de Heraugiere said ; " but I fear it is hopeless to think of such a thing." "I do not see why it should be," Lionel said. ' I was reading when I was last at home about our wars with the Scotch, and there were several cases in which very strong places that could not have been carried by assault were captured suddenly by small parties of men who disguised themselves as wagoners, and hiding a score or two of their comrades in a wagon covered with firewood, or sacks of grain, boldly went up to the gates. When there they cut the traces of their horses so that the gates could not be closed, or the portcullis lowered, and then falling upon the guards, kept them at bay until a force, hidden near the gates, ran up and entered the town. I see not why a similar enterprise should not be attempted at Breda." "Nor do I," Captain Heraugiere said; "the question is how to set about such a scheme." " That one could not say without seeing the place," Lionel remarked. " I should say that a plan of this sort could only be successful after those who attempted it had made themselves masters of all particulars of the place and its ways. Everything would depend upon all going smoothly and without hitches of any kind. If you really think of undertaking such an adventure, Captain Herau- gire, I should be very glad to act under you if Sir Francis Vere will give me leave to do so ; but I would suggest that the first step should be for us to go into Breda in disguise. We might take in a wagon-load of grain for sale, or merely carry out on our backs baskets with country produce, or we could row up in a boat with fish." " The plan is certainly worth thinking of," Captain Heraugiere said. "I will turn it over in my mind for a day, and will then talk to you again. It would be a grand stroke, and there would be great honor to be obtained ; but it will not do for me to go to Prince Maurice and lay it before him until we have a plan completely worked out, B Y ENGLAND S AIL. 229 otherwise we are more likely to meet with ridicule than praise." The following day Captain Heraguiere called at Lionel's lodgings. " I have lain awake all night thinking of our scheme, " he said, "and have resolved to carry out at least the first part of it to enter Breda and see what are the prospects of success, and the manner in which the matter had best be set about. I propose that we two disguise ourselves as fishermen, and going down to the river be tween Breda and Willemstad bargain with some fishermen going up to Breda with their catch for the use of their boat. While they are selling the fish we can survey the town and see what is the best method of introducing a force into it. When our plan is completed we will go to Voorne, whither Prince Maurice starts to-morrow, and lay the matter before him." " I will gladly go with you to Breda," Lionel said, " and, as far as I can, aid you there ; but I think that it would be best that you only should appear in the matter after wards. I am but a young volunteer, and it would be well that I did not appear at all in the matter, which you had had best make entirely your own. But I hope, Captain Heraugiere, that should the prince decide to adopt any plan you may form, and intrust the matter to you, that you will take me with you in your folio wing. " " That I will assuredly," Captain Heraugiere said, " and will take care that if it should turn out successful youi share in the enterprise shall be known." "When do you think of setting about it?" Lionel asked. " Instantly. My company is at \ 7 oorne, and I should return thither with the prince to-day. I will at once go to him and ask for leave to be absent on urgent affairs for a week. Do you go to Sir Francis Vere and ask for a similar time. Do not tell him, if you can help it, the ex act nature of your enterprise. But if you cannot obtain 230 BY ENGLAND'S AID. i leave otherwise, of course you must do so. I will be back here in two hours' time. We can then at once get our disguises, and hire a craft to take us to Willemstad." Lionel at once went across to the quarters of Sir Francis Vere. " I have come, Sir Francis, to ask for a week's leave of absence. " "That you can have, Lionel. What, are you going shooting ducks on the frozen meres ? "' " No, Sir Francis. I am going on a little expedition with Captain Heraugiere, who has invited me to accom pany him. We have an idea in our heads that may per haps be altogether useless, but may possibly bear fruit. In the first case we would say nothing about it, in the second we will lay it before you on our return." "Very well," Sir Francis said with a smile. "You showed that you could think at Sluys, and I hope some thing may come of this idea of yours, whatever it may be." At the appointed time Captain Heraugiere returned, having obtained leave of absence from the prince. They at once went out into the town and bought the clothes necessary for their disguise. They returned with these to their lodgings, and having put them on went down to the wharf, where the}' had no difficulty in bargaining with the master of a small craft to take them to Willemstad, as the Spaniards had no ships whatever on the water be tween Rotterdam and Bergen-op-Zoom. The boat was to wait three days for them at that town, and to bring them back to Rotterdam. As there was no reason for delay they at once went on board and cast off. The distance was but thirty miles, and just at nightfall they stepped ashore at the town of Willemstad. The next morning they had no difficulty in arranging with a fisherman who was going up to Breda with a cargo of fish to take the place of two of his boatmen at the oars. B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 281 " We want to spend a few hours tlwe," Captain Herau giere said, " and will give you five crowns if you will leave two of your men here and let us take their places." " That is a bargain," the man said at once ; " that is, if you can row, for we shall scarce take the tide up to the town, and must keep on rowing to get there before the ebb begins." " We can row, though perhaps not so well as your own men. You are, I suppose, in the habit of going there, and are known to the guards at the port ? They are not likely, I should think, to notice that you haven't got the same crew as usual ? " " There is no fear of that, and if they did I could easily say that two of my men were unable to accompany me to day, and that I have hired fresh hands in their places." Two of the men got out. Captain Heraugiere and Lionel Vickars took their places, and the boat proceeded up the river. The oars were heavy and clumsy, and the new-comers were by no means sorry when, after a row of twelve miles, they neared Breda. " What are the regulations for entering Breda ? " Cap tain Heruugiere nsked as they approached the town. "There are no particular regulations," the master of the boat said, ' save that on entering the port the boat is searched to see that it contains nothing but fish. None are allowed to enter the gates of the town without giving their names, and satisfying the officer on guard that they have business in the place." An officer came on board as the boat ran up alongside the quay and asked a few questions. After assisting in getting the basket of fish 011 shore Captain Heraugiere and Lionel sauntered away along the quay, leaving the fisher men to dispose of their catch to the townspeople, who had already begun to bargain for them. The river Mark flowed through the town, supplying its moats with water. Where it left the town on the western 282 B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. side, was the old castle, with a moat of its own and strong fortified lines. Within was the quay, with an open place called the fish-market leading to the gates of the new castle. There were 600 Spanish infantry in the town and 100 in the castle, and 100 cavalry. The governor of Breda, Edward Lanzaveochia, was absent superintending the erection of new fortifications at Gertruydenberg, and in his absence the town was under the command of his son Paolo. Great vigilance was exercised. All vessels entering port were strictly examined, and there was a guard-house on the quay. Lying by one of the wharves was a large boat laden with peat, which was being rapidly unloaded, the peat being sold as soon as landed, as fuel was very short in the city. " It seems to me," Lionel said as they stood for a minute looking on, "that this would be just the thing for us. If we could make an arrangement with the captain of one of these peat-boats we might hide a number of men in the hold and cover them with peat. A place might be buil large enough, I should think, to hold seventy or eighty men, and yet be room for a quantity of peat to be stowed over them." " A capital idea," Captain Heraugiere said. '' The peat comes from above the town. We must find out where the barges are loaded, and try to get at one of the captains." After a short walk through the town they returned to the boat. The fisherman had already sold out his stock, and was glad at seeing his passengers return earlier than he expected ; but as the guard was standing by he rated them severely for keeping him waiting so long, and with a muttered excuse they took their places in the boat and rowed down the river. * I want you to put us ashore on the left bank as soon as we are out of sight of the town," Captain Heraugiere aid. " As it will be heavy work getting your boat back B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 233 with only two of you, I will give you a couple of crowns beyond the amount I bargained with you for. " That will do well enough," the man said. " We have got the tide with us, and can drop down at our leisure." As soon as they were landed they made a wide detour to avoid the town, and coming down again upon the river above it, followed its banks for three miles, when they put up at a little inn in the small village of Leur on its bank. They had scarcely sat down to a meal when a man came in and called for supper. The landlord placed another plate at the table near them, and the man at once got into con versation with them, and they learnt that he was master of a peat-boat that had that morning left Breda empty. "We were in Breda ourselves this morning," Captain Heraugie're said, " and saw a peat-boat unloading there. There seemed to be a brisk demand for the fuel." " Yes ; it is a good trade at present," the man said. " There are only six of us who have permits to enter the port, and it is as much as we can do to keep the town sup plied with fuel ; for, you see, at any moment the river may be frozen up, so the citizens need to keep a good stock in hand. I ought not to grumble, since I reap the benefit of the Spanish regulations ; but all these restrictions on trade come mighty hard upon the people of Breda. It was not so in the old time." After supper was over Captain Heraugi^re ordered a couple of flasks of spirits, and presently learned from the boatman that his name was Adrian Van de Berg, and that he had been at one time a servant in the household of William of Orange. Little by little Captain Heraugiere felt his way, and soon found that the boatman- was an en thusiastic patriot. He then confided to him that he him self was an officer in the State's service, and had come to Breda to ascertain whether there was any possibility of capturing the town by surprise. 234 B Y ENGLAND ' S AID. " We hit on a plan to-day," lie said, " which promises a chance of success ; but it needs the assistance of one ready to risk his life." " I am ready to risk my life in any enterprise that lias a fair chance of success/'' the boatman said, " but I do not see how I can be of much assistance." " You can be of the greatest assistance if you will, and will render the greatest service to your country if you will join in our plan. What we propose is, that we should con struct a shelter of boards four feet high in the bottom of your boat, leading from your little cabin aft right up to the bow. In this I calculate we could stow seventy men ; then the peat could be piled over it, and if you entered the port somewhat late in the afternoon yon could manage that it was not unladen so as to uncover the roof of our shelter before work ceased for the night. Then we could sally out, overpower the guard on the quay, make for one of the gates, master the guard there, and open it to our friends without." " It is a bold plan and a good one," Van de Berg said, " and I am ready to run my share of the risk with you. I am so well known in Breda that they do not search the cargo very closely when I arrive, and I see no reason why the party hidden below should not escape observation. I will undertake my share of the business if you decide to carry it out. I served the prince for fifteen years, and am "seady to serve his son. There are plenty of planks to be obtained at a place three miles above here, and it would not take many hours to construct the false deck. If you send a messenger here giving me two days' notice, it shall be built and the peat stowed on it by the time you ar rive." It was late at night before the conversation was concluded, and the next morning Captain Heraugiere and Lionel started on their return, struck the river some miles below Breda, chained a passage over the river in a passing boat 235 ..:.': 3 in the afternoon, and. sleeping at Willemstad, went on >o:ird their boat next morning and returned to liotter- dam. It was arranged that Lionel should say nothing about their journey until Captain Heraugire had opened the subject to Prince Maurice. ' You are back before your time/' Sir Francis Vere said when Lionel reported himself for duty. " Has any thing come of this project of yours, whatever it may i. 9" be "We hope so, sir. Captain Heraugiere will make his report to Prince Maurice. He is the leader of the party, and therefore we thought it best that he should report to Prince Maurice, who, if he thinks well of it, will of course communicate with you." The next day a message arrived frem Voorne requesting Sir Francis Vere to proceed thither to discuss with the prince a matter of importance. He returned after two days' absence, and presently sent for Lionel. " This is a rare enterprise that Captain Heraugiere has proposed to the prince," he said, " and promises well for success. It is to be kept a profound secret, and a few only will know aught of it until it is executed. Heraugiere is of course to have command of the party which is to be hidden in the barge, and is to pick out eighty men from the garrisons of Gorcum and Lowesteyn. He has begged that you shall be of the party, as he says that the whole matter was in the first case suggested to him by you. The rest of the men and officers will be Dutch." A fortnight later, on the 22d of February, Sir Francis Vere on his return from the Hague, where Prince Maurice now was, told Lionel that all was arranged. The message had come down from Van de Berg that the hiding-place was constructed. They were to join Heraugiere the next dav. On the 24th of February the little party started. Herau- giere had chosen young, active, and daring men. With 236 -flF ENGLAND'S AID. him were Captains Logier and Fervet, and Lieutenant Held. They embarked on board a vessel, and were landed near the mouth of the Mark, as De Berg was this time going to carry the peat up the river instead of down, fear ing that the passage of seventy men through the country would attract attention. The same night Prince Maurice, Sir Francis Vere, Count Hohenlohe, and other officers sailed to Willemstad, their destination having been kept a strict secret from all but those engaged in the enterprise. Six hundred English troops, eight hundred Dutch, and three hundred cavalry had been drawn from different gar risons, and were also to land at Willemstad. When Heraugiere's party arrived at the point agreed on at eleven o'clock at night, Van de Berg was not there, nor was the barge ; and angry and alarmed at his absence they searched about for him for hours, and at last found him in the village of Terheyde. He made the excuse that he had overslept himself, and that he was afraid the plot had been discovered. As everything depended upon his co operation, Heraugiere abstained from the angry reproaches which the strange conduct of the man had excited ; and as it was now too late to do anything that night, a meeting was arranged for the following evening, and a message was despatched to the prince telling him that the expedi tion was postponed for a day. On their return, the men all gave free vent to their indignation. "I have no doubt/' Heraugiere said, "that the fellow has turned coward now that the time has come to face the danger. It is one thing to talk about a matter aa long as it is far distant, but another to look it in the face when is is close at hand. I do not believe that he will come to morrow." "If he does not he will deserve hanging," Captain Logier said ; " after all the trouble he has given in getting the troops together, and after bringing the prince himself over." B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 237 " It will go very near hanging if not quite/' Heraugiere muttered. " If he thinks that he is going to fool us with impunity, he is mightily mistaken. If he is a wise man he will start at daybreak, and get as far away aa he can be fore nightfall if he does not mean to come." The next day the party remained in hiding in a barn, and in the evening again went down to the river. There was a barge lying there laden high with turf. A general exclamation of satisfaction broke from all when they saw it. There were two men on it. One landed and came to meet them. " Where is Van de Berg ? " Captain Heraugidre asked as he came up. " He is ill and unable to come, but has sent you this letter. My brother and myself have undertaken the busi ness." The letter merely said that the writer was too ill to come, but had sent in his place his two nephews, one or other of whom always accompanied him, and who could be trusted thoroughly to carry out the plan. The party at once went on- board the vessel, descended into the little cabin aft, and then passed through a hole made by the re moval of two planks into the hold that had been prepared for them. Heraugiere remained on deck, and from time to time descended to inform those below of the progress being made. It was slow indeed, for a strong wind laden with sleet blew directly down the river. Huge blocks of ice floated down, and the two boatmen with their poles had the greatest difficulty in keeping the boat's head up the stream. At last the wind so increased that navigation became impossible, and the barge was made fast against the bank. From Monday night until Thursday morning the gale .con tinued. Progress was impossible, and the party cramped up in the hold suffered greatly from hunger and thirst. On Thursday evening they could sustain it no longer and 238 B T ENGLAND ' S AID. landed. They were for a time scarce able to wu^, cc cramped were their limbs by their long confinement, and made their way up painfully to a fortified building called Nordand, standing far from any other habitations. Here they obtained food and drink, and remained until at eleven at night one of the boatmen came to them with news that the wind had changed, and was now blowing in from the sea. They again took their places on board, but the water was low in the river, and it was difficult work passing the shallows, and it was not until Saturday afternoon that they passed the boom below the town and entered the inner harbor. An officer of the guard came off in a boat and boarded the barge. The weather was so bitterly cold that he at once went into the little cabin and there chatted with the two boatmen. Those in the hold could hear every word that was said, and they almost held their breath, for the slightest noise would betray them. After a while the officer got into his boat again, saying he would send some men off to warp the vessel into the castle dock, as the fuel was required by the garrison there. As the barge was making its way towards the water-gace, it struck upon a hidden obstruction in the river and began to leak rapidly. The situation of those in the hold was now terrible, for in a few minutes the water rose to their knees, and the choice seemed to be presented to them of being drowned like rats there, or leaping overboard, in which case they would be captured and hung without mercy. The boatmen plied the pumps vigorously, and in a short time a party of Italian soldiers arrived from the shore and towed the vessel into the inner harbor, and made her fast close to the guard house ot the castle. A party of laborers at once came on board and began to unload the turf ; the need of fuel both in the town and castle being great, for the weather had been for some time bitterly cold. A fresh danger now arose. The sudden immersion in BY ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 239 the icy water in the close cabin brought on a sudden in clination to sneeze and cough. Lieutenant Held, finding himself unable to repress his cough, handed his dagger to Lionel Vickars, who happened to be sitting next to him, and implored him to stab him to the heart lest his cough might betray the whole party ; but one of the boatmen who was standing close to the cabin heard the sounds, and bude his companion go on pumping with as much noise and clatter as possible, while he himself did the same, telling those standing 011 the wharf alongside that the boat was almost full of water. The boatmen behaved with admirable calmness and coolness, exchanging jokes with acquaintances on the quay, keeping up a lively talk, ask ing high prices for their peat, and engaging in long and animated bargains so as to prevent the turf from being taken too rapidly ashore. At last, when but a few layers of turf remained over the roof of the hold, the elder brother told the men unload ing that it was getting too dark, and he himself was too tired and worn out to attend to tilings any longer. He therefore gave the men some money and told them to go to the nearest public-house to drink his health, and to re turn the first thing in the morning to finish unloading. The younger of the two brothers had already left the boat. He made his way through the town, and started at full speed to carry the news to Prince Maurice that the barge had arrived safely in the town, and the attempt would be made at midnight ; also of the fact they had learned from those on the wharf, that the governor had heard a rumor that a force had landed somewhere on the coast, and had gone off again to Gertruydenberg in all haste, believing that some design was on foot against that town. His son Paolo was again in command of the garrison. A little before midnight Captain Heraugiere told his comrades that the hour had arrived, and that only by the most desperate bravery could they hope to succeed, while 240 BY ENGLAND'S AID. death was the certain consequence of failure. The banu were divided into two companies. He himself with one was to attack the main guard-house ; the other, under Ferret, was to seize the arsenal of the fortress. Noise lessly they stole out from their hiding-place, and formed upon the wharf within the inclosure of the castle. Her- augiere moved straight upon the guard-house. The sentry was secured instantly ; but the slight noise was heard, and the captain of the watch ran out but was instantly cut down. Others came out with torches, but after a brief fight were driven into the guard-house ; when all were shot down through the doors and windows. Captain Fervet and his band had done equally well. The magazine of the castle was seized, and its defenders slain. Paolo Lauza- vecchia made a sally from the palace with a few of his ad herents, but was wounded and driven back ; and the rest of the garrison of the castle, ignorant of the strength of the force that had thus risen as it were from the earth upon them, fled panic-stricken, not even pausing to destroy the bridge between the castle and the town. Young Paolo Lanzavecchia now began a parley with the assailants ; but while the negotiations were going on Hoheulohe with hia cavalry came up having been ap prised by the boatman that the attempt was about to be made battered down the palisade near the water-gate and entered the castle. A short time afterwards Prince Maurice, Sir Francis Vere, and other officers arrived with the main body of the troops. But the fight was over be fore even Hohenlohe arrived ; forty of the garrison being killed, and not a single man of the seventy assailants. The burgomaster, finding that the castle had fallen, and that a strong force had arrived, then sent a trumpeter to the castle to arrange for the capitulation of the town, which was settled on the following terms : All plunder ing was commuted for the payment of two months' pay to BY ENGLAND'S AID. *+\ every soldier engaged in the affair. All who chose might leave the city, with full protection to life and property. Those who were willing to remain were not to be molested in their conscience or households with regard to re ligion. The news of the capture of Breda was received with im mense enthusiasm throughout Holland. It was the first offensive operation that had been successfully undertaken, and gave new hopes to the patriots. Parma was furious at the cowardice with which five companies of foot and one of horse all picked troops had fled before the attack of seventy Hollanders. Three captains were publicly beheaded in Brussels and a fourth degraded to the ranks, while Lanzavecchia was deprived of the command of Gertruydenberg. For some months before the assault upon Breda the army of Holland had been gaining vastly in strength and organization. Prince Maurice, aided by his cousin Lewis William, stadholder of Friesland, had been hard at work getting it into a state of efficiency. Lewis William, a man of great energy and military talent, saw that the use of solid masses of men in the field was no longer fitted to a state of things when the improvements in firearms of all sorts had entirely changed the condition of war. He therefore reverted to the old Roman methods, and drilled his soldiers in small bodies ; teaching them to turn and wheel, advance or retreat, and perform all sorts of man euvers with regularity and order. Prince Maurice adopted the same plan in Holland, and the tactics so introduced proved so efficient that they were sooner or later adopted by all civilized nations. At the time when William of Orange tried to relieve the hard-pressed city of Haarlem, he could with the greatest diffi culty muster three or four thousand men for the purpose. The army of the Netherlands was now 22,000 strong, of whom 2,000 were cavalry. It was well disciplined, well 16 242 B r ENGLAND ' 8 AID. equipped, and regularly paid, and was soon to prove that the pains bestowed upon it had not been thrown away. In the course of the eighteen years that had iollowed the capture of Brill and the commencement of the struggle with Spain, the wealth and prosperity of Holland had enormously in creased. The Dutch were masters of the sea-coast, the ships of the Zeelanders closed every avenue to the interior, and while the commerce of Antwerp, Ghent, Bruges, and the other cities of the provinces that remained in the hands of the Spaniards was for the time destroyed, and their population fell off by a half, Holland benefited in proportion. From all the Spanish provinces men of energy and wealth passed over in immense numbers to Holland, where they could pursue their commerce and industries free from the exactions and cruelty under which they had for so many years groaned. The result was that the cities of Holland increased vastly in wealth and population, and the resources at the disposal of Prince Maurice enormously exceeded those with which his father had for so many years sustained the struggle. For a while after the capture of Breda there was breath ing time in Holland, and Maurice was busy in increasing and improving his army. Parma was fettered by the im perious commands of Philip, who had completely crippled him by withdrawing a considerable number of his troops for service in the war which he was waging with France. But above all, the destruction of the Armada, and with it of the naval supremacy of Spain, had changed the situation. Holland was free to carry on her enterprises by sea, and had free communication and commerce with her English ally, while communication between Spain and the Nether lands was difficult. Reinforcements could no longer be sent by sea, and had to be sent across Europe from Italy. Parma was worn out by exertions, disappointment, and BY ENGLAND 8 AID. 248 annoyance, <:nd his health was seriously failing ; while op- posed to him were three young commanders Maurice, LeAvis William, and Francis Vere all men of military genius and full of. confidence and energy. 244 BY EJH GLAND' a AID. CHAPTER XV. A SLAVE Itf BABBABT. THE Tarifa had left port but a few hours when a strong wind rose from the north, and rapidly increased in violence until it was blowing a gale. " Inez is terribly ill," Gerald said when he met Geoffrey on deck the following morning. " I believe at the present moment she would face her father and risk everything if she could but be put on shore." "I can well imagine that. However, she will think otherwise to-morrow or next day. I believe these Mediter ranean storms do not last long. There is no fear of six weeks of bad weather such as we had when we were last afloat together." " No. I have just been speaking to the captain. He says they generally blow themselves out in two or three days ; but still, even that is not a pleasant look-out. These vessels are not like your English craft, which seem to be able to sail almost in the eye of the wind. They are lub berly craft, and badly handled ; and if this gale lasts for three days we shall be down on the Barbary coast, and I would rather risk another journey through Spain than get down so near the country of the Moors." " I can understand that," Geoffrey agreed. " However, I see there are some thirty soldiers forward on their way to join one of the regiments in Naples, so we ought to be able to beat off any corsair that might come near us." " Yes ; but if we got down on their coast we might be attacked by half a dozen of them," Gerald said. " How- B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 245 ever, one need not begin to worry one's self at present ; he gale may abate within a few hours." At the end of the second day the wind went down sud denly ; and through the night the vessel rolled heavily, for the sea was still high, and there was not a breath of wind to fill her sails and steady her. By the morning the sea had gone down, but there was still an absence of wind. " We have had a horrible night," Gerald remarked, " but we may think ourselves fortunate indeed," and he pointed to the south, where the land was plainly visible at a dis tance of nine or ten miles. " If the gale had continued to blow until now we should have been on shore long be fore this." "We are LOO near to be pleasant," Geoffrey said, " for they can see us as plainly as we can see the land. It is to be hoped that a breeze may spring up from the south be fore long and enable us to creep off the laud. Unless I am greatly mistaken I can see the masts of some craft or other in a line with those white houses over there." "I don't see them," Gerald replied, gazing intently in the direction in which Geoffrey pointed. " Let us go up to the top, Gerald ; we shall see her hull from there plainly enough." On reaching the top Gerald s?56 BY ENGLAND'S AID. paying them any attention whatever. Moved by the re port, the bey himself went down to the end of the garden. " It is wonderful/' he said, stroking his beard. " Truly these Englishmen are men of sinews. Never have I seen so much work done by two men in a day. Take care of them, Mahmoud, and see that they are well fed ; the will ing servant should be well cared for/* The work went steadily on until the wall was raised, the ground dug, and the shrubs planted. It was some months before all this was done, and the two slaves continued to attract the observation and good-will of the bey by their steady and cheerful labor. Their work began soon after sunrise, and continued until noon. Then they had three hours to themselves to eat their midday meal and dose in the shed, and then worked again until sunset. The bey often strolled down to the edge of the trees to watch them, and sometimes even took guests to admire the way in which these two Englishmen, although ignorant that any eyes were upon them, performed their work. His satisfaction was evinced by the abundance of food supplied them, their meal being frequently supplemented by fruit and other little luxuries. Severely as they labored, Geoffrey and his companion were comparatively happy. Short as was the time that the former had worked with the gang, he appreciated the liberty he now enjoyed, and espe cially congratulated himself upon being spared the pain ful life of a galley-slave at sea. As to Boldero, the change from the prison with the companions he hated, its degrading work, and coarse and scanty food, made a new man of him. He had been but two-and-twenty when captured by the Spaniards, and was now in the prime of life and strength. The work, which had seemed very hard to Geoffrey at first, was to him but as play, while the companionship of his countryman, his freedom from constant surveillance, the absence of all care, and the abundance and excellence f BY ENGLAND 1 S AID. 257 hL food, filled him with new life ; and the ladies of the Jbey's household often sat and listened to the strange songs that rose from the slaves toiling in the garden. As the work approached its conclusion Geoffrey and his companion had many a talk over what would next befall them. There was one reason only that weighed in favor of the life with the slave-gang. In their present position there was no possibility whatever, so far as they could dis cern, of effecting their escape ; whereas, as slaves, should the galley in which they i'owed be overpowered by any ship it attacked, they would obtain their freedom. The chance cl this, however, was remote, as the fust-rowiug galleys could almost always make their escape should the vessel they attacked prove too strong to be captured. When the last bed had been leveled and the last shrub planted the superintendent told them to follow him into the house, as the bey was desirous of speaking with them. They found him seated on a divan. " Christians,'' he said, " I have watched you while you have been at work, and truly you have not spared your selves in my service, but have labored for me with all your strength, well and willingly. I see now that it is true that the people of your nation differ much from the Span iards, who are dogs. " I see that trust is to be placed in you, and were you but true believers I would appoint you to a position where you could win credit and honor. As it is, I cannot place you over believers in the prophet ; but neither am I willing Lhat you should return to the gang from which I took you. I will, therefore, leave you free to work for your selves. There are many of my friends who have seen you laboring, and will give you employment. It will be known in the place that you are under my protection, and thai any who insult or ill-treat you will be severely punished. Should you have any complaint to make, come freely tome and I will see that justice is done you. 19 258 BY ENGLAND'S AID. " This evening a crier will go through the place pro claiming that the two English galley-slaves have been given their freedom by me, and will henceforth live in the town without molestation from anyone, carrying on their work and selling their labor like true believers. The crier will inform the people that the nation to which you belong is at war with our enemies the Spaniards, and that, save as to the matter of your religion, you are worthy of being re garded as friends by all good Moslems. My superintend ent will go down with you in the morning. I have ordered him to hire a little house for you and furnish it with what is needful, to recommend you to your neighbors, and to give you a purse of piastres with which to maintain your selves until work comes to you." Stephen Boldero expressed the warmest gratitude, on the part of his companion and himself, to the bey for his kindness. "I have done but simple justice/' the bey said, " and no thanks are necessary. Faithful work should have its reward, and as you have done to me so I do to you." The next morning as they were leaving, a female slave presented them with a purse of silver, the gift of the bey's wife and daughters, who had often derived much pleasure from the songs of the two captives. The superintendent conducted them to a small hut facing the sea. It was fur nished with the few articles that were, according to native ideas, necessary for comfort. There were cushions on the divan of baked clay raised about a foot above the floor, which served as a sofa during the day and as a bed at night. There was a small piece of carpet on the floor and a few cooking utensils on a shelf, and some dishes of burnt clay ; and nothing more was required. ' There was, however, a small chest, in which, after the superintendent had left, they found two sets of garments as worn by the natives. " This is a comfort indeed," Geoffrey said. " Mj clothes are all in rags, and as for yours the lees we say about BY ENGLAND'S AW. 259 them the better. I shall feel like a new man in these things." "I shall be glad myself/' Stephen agreed, "for the clothes they give the galley-slaves are scarce decent for a Christian man to wear. My consolation has been that if they had been shocked by our appearance they would have given us more clothes ; but as they did not mind it there was no reason why I should. Still it would be a comfort to be cleanly and decent again." For the first few days the natives of the place looked askance at these Christians in their midst, but the bey's orders had been peremptory that no insults should be offered to them. Two days after their liberation one of the principal men of the place sent for them and employed them in digging the foundations for a fountain, and a deep trench of some hundred yards in length for the pipe for bringing water to it. After that they had many similar jobs, receiving always the wages paid to regular workmen, and giving great satisfaction by their steady toil. Some times when not otherwise engaged they went out in boats with fishermen, receiving a portion of the catch in pay ment of their labors. So sone months passed away. Very frequently they talked over methods of escape. The only plan that seemed at all possible was to take a boat and make out to sea ; but they knew that they would be pursued, and if overtaken would revert to their former life at the galleys, a change which would be a terrible one indeed after the present life of freedom and independence. They knew, too, that they might be days before meeting with a ship, for all traders in the Mediterranean hugged the northern shores as much as possible in order to avoid the dreaded corsairs, and there would be a far greater chance of their being recap tured by one of the Moorish cruisers than of lighting upon a Christian trader. " It is a question of chance," Stephen said, " and when 260 BY ENGLAND'S AID. the chance comes we will seize it ; but it is no use our giving up a life against which the it. is not much to be said, unless some fair prospect of escape oilers itself to us." Y ENGLAND'S AID. 261 CHAPTER XVL THE ESCAPE. IN one respect," Geoffrey said, as they were talking over their chance of escape, ' ' I am sorry that the bey has be haved so kindly to us." " What is that ?" Stephen Boldero asked in surprise. " Well, I was thinking that were it not for that we might manage to contrive some plan of escape in concert with the galley-slaves, get them down to the shore here, row off to the galley, overpower the three or four men who live on board her, and make off with her. Of course we should have had to accumulate beforehand a quantity of food and some barrels of water, for I have noticed that when they go out they always take their stores on board with them, and bring on shore on their return what has not been consumed. Still, I suppose that could be man aged. However, it seems to me that our hands are tied in that direction by the kindness of the bey. After his con duct to us it would be ungrateful in the extreme for us to carry off his galley." "So it would, Geoffrey. Besides I doubt wh ther the plan would succeed. You may be sure the Spaniards are as jealous as can be of the good fortune that we have met with, and were we to propose such a scheme to them the chances are strongly in favor of one of them trying to better his own position by denouncing us. I would only trust them as far as I can see them. No, if we ever do anything it must be done by urselves. There is no doubt that if some night when there is strmiij wind blowing 262 B T ENGLAND ' S AID. from the southeast we were to get on hoard one of these fishing-boats, hoist a sail, and run before it, we should not be far off from the coast of Spain before they started to look for us. But what better should we be there? We can both talk Spanish well enough, but we could not pass as Spaniards. Besides, they would find out soon enough that we were not Catholics, and where should we be then ? Either sent to row in their galleys or clapped into the dungeons of the Inquisition, and like enough burnt alive at the stake. That would be out of the frying-pan into the fire with vengeance/' ''I think we might pass as Spaniards," Geoffrey said ; " for there is a great deal of difference between the dia lects of the different provinces, and confined as you have been for the last ten years with Spanish sailors you must have caught their way of talking. Still, I agree with you it will be better to wait for a bit longer for any chance that may occur rather than risk landing in Spain again, where even if we passed as natives we should have as hard work to get our living as we have here, and with no greater chance of making our way home again/' During the time that they had been captives some three or four vessels had been brought in by the corsair. The men composing the crews had been either sold as slaves to Moors or Arabs in the interior or sent to Algiers, which town lay over a hundred miles to the east. They were of various nationalities, Spanish, French, and Italian, as the two friends learned from the talk of the natives, for they always abstained from going near the point where the prisoners were landed, as they were powerless to assist the unfortunate captives in any way, and the sight of their distress was very painful to them. One day, however, they learned from the people who were running down to the shore to see the captives landed from a ship that had been brought in by the corsair during the night, that there were two or three women among the BY ENGLAND'S AID. 263 captives. This was the first time that any females had been captured since their arrival at the place, for women seldom traveled far from their homes in those days, ex cept the wives of high officials journeying in great ships that were safe from the attack of the Moorish corsairs. "Let us go down and see them/* Boldero said. "I have not seen the face of a white woman for nine years." " I will go if you like," Geoffrey said. " They will not guess that we are Europeans, for we are burnt as dark as the Moors." They went down to the landing-place. Eight men and two women were landed from the boat. These were the sole survivors of the crew. " They are Spaniards," Boldero said. " I pity that poor girl. I suppose the other woman is her servant." The girl, who was about sixteen years of age, was very pale, and had evidently been crying terribly. She did not seem to heed the cries and threats with which the towns people as usual assailed the newly-arrived captives, but kept her eyes fixed upon one of the captives who walked before her. "That is her father, no doubt," Geoffrey said. " It is probably her last look at him. Come away, Stepheii ; I am awfully sorry we came here. I shall not be able to get that girl's face out of my mind for I don't know how long." Without a word they went back to their hut. They had no particular work that day. Geoffrey went restlessly in and out, sometimes pacing along the strand, sometimes coming in and throwing himself on the divan. Stephen Boldero went on quietly mending a net that had been damaged the night before, saying nothing, but glancing occasionally with an amused look at his companion's rest less movement Late in the afternoon Geoffrey burst out suddenly : Stephen, we must try and rescue that girl somehow fruin her fate." 264 -B 1' ES GLAND ' 5 AID. " I supposed that was what it was coining to/' Boldero said quietly. " Well, let me hear all about i . I know you have been thinking it over ever since morning. What are your ideas ? " " I do not know that I have any ideas beyond getting her and her father down to a boat and making off." " Well, you certainly have not done much if yoi haven't got farther than that," Stephen said dryly. " Now, if you had spent the day talking it over with me instead of wan dering about like one out of his mind, we should have got a great deal further than that by this time. However, I have been thinking for you. I know what you young fel lows are. As soon as I saw that girl's face and looked at you I was dead certain there was an end of peace and quietness, and that you would be bent upon some plan of getting her off. It did not need five minutes to show that I was right ; and I have been spending my time thinking, while you have thrown yours away in fidgeting. " Well, I think it is worth trying. Of course it will be a vastly more difficult job getting the girl and her father away than just taking a boat and sailing off as we have often talked of doing. Then, on the other hand, it would altogether alter our position afterwards. By his appear ance and hers I have no doubt he is a well-to-trader, per haps a wealthy one. He walked with his head upright when the crowd were yelling and cursing, and is evidently a man of courage and determination. Now, if we had reached the Spanish coast by ourselves we should have been questioned right and left, and, as I have said all along, they would soon have found that we were not Span iards, for we could not have said where we came from, or given our past history, or said where our families lived. But it would be altogether different if we landed with them. Every one would be interested about them. We should only be two poor devils of sailors who had escaped with them, and he would help to paR it off and get us B Y ENGLAND S AID. 265 employment ; so that the difficulty that has hitherto pre vented us from trying to escape is very greatly diminished. No\v, as to getting them away. Of course she has been taken up to the bey's, and no doubt he will send her as a present to the bey of Algiers. I know that is what has been done several times before when young women have been captured. ' ' I have been thinking it over, and I do not see a pos sibility of getting to speak to her as long as she is at the bey's. I do not see that it can be done anyhow. She will be indoors most of the time, and if she should go into the garden there would be other women with her. Our only plan, as far as I can see at present, would be to carry her off from her escort on the journey. I do not suppose she will have more than two, or at most three, mounted men with her, and we ought to be able to dispose of them. As to her father, the matter is comparatively easy. We know the ways of the prison, and I have no doubt we can get him out somehow ; only there is the trouble of the ques tion of time. She has got to be rescued and brought back and hidden somewhere till nightfall, he has got to be set free the same evening, and we have to embark early enough to be well out of sight before daylight ; and maybe there will not be a breath of wind stirring. It is a tough job, Geoffrey, look at it which way you will." " It is a tough job," Geoffrey agreed. " I am afraid the escort would be stronger than you think. A present of this kind to the bey is regarded as important, and I should say half a dozen horsemen at least will be sent with her. In that case an attempt at rescue would be hopeless. We have no arms, and if we had we could not kill six mounted men ; and if even one escaped, our plans would be all de feated. The question is, would they send her by land ? It seems to me quite as likely that they might seud her by water." ' Yes, that is likely enough, Geoffrey. In that case 266 BY ENGLAND'S AID. everything would depend upon the vessel he sent her in. If it is the great galley there is an end of it ; if it is one of their little coasters it might be managed. We are sure to learn that before long. The bey might keep her for a fort night or so, perhaps longer, for her to recover somewhat from her trouble and get up her good looks again, so as to add to the value of the present. If she were well uiid bright she would be pretty enough for anything. In the meantime we can arrange our plans for getting her father away. Of course if she goes with a big escort on horse back, or if she goes in the galley, there is an end of our plans. I am ready to help you, Geoffrey, if there is a chance of success ; but I am not going to throw away my life if there is not, and unless she goes down in a coaster there is an end of the scheme. " I quite agree to that," Geoffrey replied ; " we cannot accomplish impossibilities. They learned upon the following day that three of the newly-arrived captives were to take the places of the galley-slaves who had been killed in the capture of the Spanish ship, which had defended itself stoutly, and that the others were to be sold for work in the interior. " It is pretty certain," Boldero said, " that the trader will not be one of the three chosen for the galley. The work would break him down in a mouth. That makes the part of the business easier, for we can get him away on the journey inland, and hide him up here until his daugh ter is sent off." Geoffrey looked round the bare room. "Well, I do not say as how we could hide him here," Boldero said in answer to the look, " But we might hide him somewhere among the sand-hills outside the place, and take him food at night." " Yes, we might do that," Geoffrey agreed. " That could be managed easily enough, I should think, for there are clumps of bushes scattered all over the sand-hills half BY ENGLAND'S AID. a mile back from the sea. The trouble will be if we get him here, and find after all that we cannot rescue hia daughter. " " That will make no difference," Boldero said. " In that case we will make off with him alone. Everything else will go on just the same. Of course, I should be very sorry not to save the girl ; but, as far as we are concerned , if we save the father it will answer our purpose." Geoffrey made no reply. Just at that moment his own future was a very secondary matter, in comparison, to the rescue of this unhappy Spanish girl. Geoffrey and his companion had been in the habit of going up occasionally to the prison. They had won over the guard by small presents, and were permitted to go in and out with fruit and other little luxuries tor the galley- slaves. They now abstained from going near the place, in order that no suspicion might fall upon them after hia escape of having had any communication with the Spanish trader. Shortly after the arrival of the captives two merchants from the interior came down, and Geoffrey learned that they had visited the prison, and had made a bargain with the bey for all the captives except those transferred to the galley. The two companions had talked the matter over frequently, and had concluded it was best that only one of them should be engaged in the adventure, for the absence of both might be noticed. After some discussion it was agreed that Geoffrey should undertake the task, and that Boldero should go alone to the house where they were now at work, and should mention that his friend was unwell, and was obliged to remain at home for the day. As they knew the direction in which the captives would be taken Geoffrey started before daybreak, and kept steadily along until he reached a spot where it was probable they would halt for the night. It was twenty miles away, and there was here a will oi' water and a grove of tree*- 268 BY ENGLAND'S AID. Late in the afternoon he saw the party approaching. It consisted of the merchants, two armed Arabs, and the five captives, all of whom were carrying burdens. They were crawling painfully along, overpowered by the heat of the sun, by the length of the journey, and by the weight they carried. Several times the Arabs struck them heavily with their sticks to force them to keep up. Geoffrey retired from the other side of the clump of trees, and lay down in a depression of the sand-hills until darkness came on, when he again entered the grove, and crawling cautiously forward made his way close up to the party. A fire was blazing, and a meal had heen already cooked and eaten. The traders and the two Arabs were sitting by the fire ; the captives were lying extended on the ground. Presently, at the command of one of the Arabs, they rose to their feet and proceeded to collect some more pieces of wood for the fire. As they returned the light fell on the gray hair of the man upon whom Geoffrey had noticed that the girl's eyes were fixed. He noted the place where ho lay down, and had nothing to do now but to wait until the party were asleep. He felt sure that no guard would be set, for any attempt on the part of the captives to escape would be nothing short of madness. There was nowhere for them to go, and they would simply wander about until they died of hunger and exhaustion, or until they were recaptured, in which case they would be almost beaten to death. In an hour's time the traders and their men lay down by the fire, and all was quiet. Geoffrey crawled round until he was close to the Spaniard. He waited until he felt sure that the Arabs were asleep, and then crawled up to him. The'man started as he touched him. " Silence, senor," Geoffrey whispered in Spanish ; " I am a friend, and have come to rescue you." " I care not for life ; a few days of this work wifl kill me, and the sooner the better. I have nothing to live for. BT ENGLAND'S AID. 269 They killed my wife the other day, and nay daughter is a captive in their hands. I thank you, whoever you are, but I will not go.'* " We are going to try to save your daughter too," Geof frey whispered ; "we have a plan for carrying you both off." The words gave new life to the Spaniard. " In that case, sir, I am ready. Whoever you are whom God has sent to my aid I will follow you blindly, whatever conies of it." Geoffrey crawled away a short distance, followed by the Spaniard. As soon as they were well beyond the faint light now given out by the expiring fire they rose to their feet, and gaining the track, took their way on the back ward road. As soon as they were fairly away, Geoffrey explained to the Spaniard who he was, and how he had un dertaken to endeavor to rescue him. The joy and grati tude of the Spaniard were too deep for words, and he uttered his thanks in broken tones. When they had walked about a mile Geoffrey halted. 'Sit down here," he said. "I have some meat and fruit here and a small skin of water. We have a long journey before us, for we must get near the town you left this morning before daybreak, and you must eat to keep up your strength." '' I did not think," the Spaniard said, " when we arrived at the well, that I could have walked another mile had my life depended upon it. Now I feel a new man, after the fresh hope you have given me. I no longer feel the pain of my bare feet or the blisters the sun has raised on my naked back. I am struggling now for more than life for my daughter. You shall not find me fail, sir." AH night they toiled on. The Spaniard kept his promise, and utterly exhausted as he was, and great as was the pain in his limbs, held on bravely With the first dawn of morn ing they saw the line of the sea before them. They now 270 BY ENGLAND'S AID. turned off from the track, and in another half hour the Spaniard took shelter in a clump of bushes in a hollow, while Geoffrey, having left with him the remainder of the supply of provisions and water, pursued his way and reached the hut just as ihe sun was shining in the east, and with out having encountered a single person. " Well, have you succeeded ? " Boldero asked eagerly, as he entered. " Yes ; I have got him away. He is in hiding vdthin a mile of this place. He kept on like a hero. I was utterly tired myself, and how he managed to walk the distance after what lie had gone through in the day is more than I can tell. His name is Mendez. He is a trader in Cadiz, and owns many vessels. He was on his way to Italy, with his wife and daughter, in one of his own ships, in order to gratify the desire of his wife to visit the holy places at Rome, She was killed by a cannon-shot during the fight, and his whole heart is now wrapped up in his daughter. And now, Stephen, I must lie down and sleep. You will have to go to work alone to-day again, and can truly say that I am still unfit for labor." Four days later it became known in the little town that a messenger had arrived from the merchant who bought the slaves from the bey, saying that one of them had made his escape from their first halting-place. " The dog will doubtless die in the desert," the mer chant wrote ; " but if he should find his way down, or you should hear of him as arriving at any of the villages, I pray you to send him up to me with a guard. I will so treat him that it will be a lesson to niy other slaves not to follow his example." Every evening after dark Geoffrey went out with a supply of food and water to the fugitive. For a week he had no news to give him as to his daughter ; but on the eighth night he said that he and his companion had that morning been sent bj the bey on board the largest of the coasting BY ENGLAND'S AID. 271 vessels in the port, with orders to paint the cabins and put them iu a fit state for the reception of a personage of im portance. " This is fortunate, indeed," Geoffrey went on. " No doubt she is intended for the transport of your daughter. Her crew consists of a captain and five men, but at present they are living ashore ; and as we shall be going backwards and forwards to her, we ought to have little difficulty in getting on board and hiding away in the hold before she starts. I think everything promises well for the success of our scheme/' The bey's superintendent came down the next day to see how matters were going on on board the vessel. The paint ing was finisned that evening, and the next day two slaves brought down a quantity of hangings and cushions, which Geoffrey and his companion assisted the superintendent to hang up and place in order. Provisions and water hud already been taken on board, and they learnt that the party who were to sail in her would come off early the next morning. At midnight Geoffrey, Boldero, and the Spaniard came down to the little port, embarked in a fisherman's boat moored at the stairs, and noiselessly ro'ved off to the vessel. They mounted on to her deck barefooted. Boldero was the last to leave the boat, giving her a vigorous push with his foot in the disection of the shore, from which the vessel was but some forty yards away. They descended into the hold, where they remained perfectly quiet until the first light of dawn enabled them to see what they were doing, and then moved some baskets full of vegetables, and concealed themselves behind them. A quarter of an hour later they heard a boat come along side, and the voices of the sailors. Then they heard the creaking of cordage as the sails were let fall in readiness for a start. Half an hour later another boat came along side. There was a trampling of feet on the deck above them, 272 BY EXQLA ND^S AID. and the bey's voice giving orders. A few minutes later the anchor was raised, there was more talking on deck, and then they heard a boat push off, and knew by the rustle of water against the planks beside them that the vessel was under way. The wind was light and the sea perfectly calm, and beyond the slight murmur of the water, those below would not have known that the ship was in motion. It was very hot down in the hold, but fortunately the crew had not taken the trouble to put on the hatches, and at times a faint breath of air could be felt below. Geoffrey and his com panion talked occasionally in low tones ; but the Spaniard was so absorbed by his anxiety as to the approaching struggle, and the thought that he might soon clasp his daughter to his arms, that he seldom spoke. No plans could be formed as to the course they were to take, for they could not tell whether those of the crew off duty would retire to sleep in the little forecastle or would lie down on deck. Then, too, they were ignorant as to the number of men who had come on board with the captive. The overseer had mentioned the day before that he was going, and it was probable that three or four others would accompany him. Therefore they had to reckon npon ten opponents. Their only weapons were three heavy iron bolts, some two feet long. These Boldero had purchased in exchange for a few fish, when a prize brought in was broken up as being useless for the purposes of the Moors. " What I reckon is," he said, " that you and I ought to be able to settle two apiece of these fellows before they fairly know what is happening. The Don ought very well to account for another. So that only leaves five of them ; and five against three are no odds worth speaking of, especially when the five are woke up by a sudden attack, and ain't sure how many there are against them. I don't expect much trouble over the affair.'* B T ENGLAND ' S AW. 273 " I don't want to kill more of the poor fellows than T can help/' Geoffrey said. " No more do I ; but you see it's got to be either killing or being killed, and I am perfectly certain which I prefer. Still, as yon say, if the beggars are at all reasonable I ain't for hurting them, but the first few we have got to hit hard. When we get matters a little even, we can speak them fair." The day passed slowly, and in spite of their bent and cramped position Geoffrey and Stephen Boldero dozed fre quently. The Spaniard never closed an eye. He was quite prepared to take his part in the struggle ; and as he was not yet fifty years of age, his assistance was not to be de spised. But the light-hearted carelessness of his compan ions, who joked under their breath, and laughed and eat unconcernedly with alife-and-death struggle against heavy odds before them, surprised him much. As darkness came on the party below became wakeful. Their time was coming now, and they had no doubt what ever as to the result. Their most formidable opponents would be the men who had come on board with the bey's superintendent, as these no doubt would be fully armed. As for the sailors, they might have arms on board, but these would not be ready to hand, and it was really only with the guards they would have to deal. " I tell you what I think would be a good plan, Stephen," Geoffrey said suddenly. '' You see, there is plenty of spare line down here ; if we wait until they are asleep we can go round and tie their legs together, or put ropes round their ankles and fasten them to ring-bolts. If we could manage that without waking them, we might capture the craft without shedding any blood, and might get them down into the hold one after the other." " I think that is a very good plan," Stephen agreed. " I do not like the thought of knocking sleeping nicn on the head any more than you do ; and if we are careful, we might get them all tied up before an alarm is given. There, si 274 B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. the anchor has goiie down. I thought very likely they would not sail at night. That is capital. You may be sure that they will be pretty close in shore, and they prob ably will have only one man on watch ; and as likely as not not even one, for they will not dream of any possible clanger." For another two hours the sound of talk on deck went on, but at last all became perfectly quiet. The party be low waited for another half hour, and then noiselessly as cended the ladder to the deck, holding in one hand a cudgel, in the other a number of lengths of line cut about six feet long. Each as he reached the deck lay down flat. The Spaniard had been told to remain perfectly quiet while the other two went about their task. First they crawled aft, for the bey's guards would, they knew, be sleeping at that end, and working together they tied tlie legs of these men without rousing them. The ropes could not be tightly pulled, as this would at once have disturbed them. They were therefore fastened somewhat in tho fashion of manacles, so that although the men might rise to their feet they would fall headlong the moment they tried to walk. In addition other ropes were fastened to these and taken from one man to another. Then their swords were drawn from the sheaths and their knives from their sashes. The operation was a long one, as it had to be conducted with the greatest care and caution. They then crept back to the hatchway and told the Spaniard that the most for midable enemies had been made safe. " Here are a sword and a knife for you, senor ; and now as we are all armed I consider the ship as good as won, for the sailors are not likely to make much resistance by them selves. However, we will secure some of them. The moon will be up in half an hour, and that will be an advantage to us." The captain aud three of the sailors were soon tied up BY ENGLAND'S AW. 275- like t. ie others. Two men were standing in the bow of the yessel leaning against the bulwarks, and when the moon rose it could be seen by their attitude that both were asleep. "New, we may as well begin," Geoffrey said. "Let us take th ?se two fellows in the bow by surprise. Hold a knife to their throats, and tell them if they utter the least sound w ? will kill them. Then we will make them go down into the forecastle and fasten them there." " I am ready," Stephen said, and they stole forward to the two sleeping men. They grasped them suddenly by the throat and held a knife before their eyes, Boldero tell ing them in a stern whisper that if they uttered a cry they would be stabbed to the heart. Paralyzed by the sudden attack they did not make the slightest struggle, but ac companied their unknown assailants to the forecastle and were there fastened in. Joined now by the Spaniard, Geoffrey and his companion went aft and roused one of the sleepers there with a threat similar to that which had silenced the sailors. He was, however, a man of different stuff. He gave a loud shout and grappled with Boldero, who struck him a heavy blow with his fist in the face, and this for a moment silenced him ; but the alarm being given, the superinten dent and tiio two men struggled to their feet, only however to fall prostrate as soon as they tried to walk. ' * Lie quiet and keep silence ! " Boldero shouted in a threatening voice. " You are unarmed and at our mercy. Your feet lire bound and you are perfectly helpless. We do not wish to take your lives, but unless you are quiet we shall be compelled to do so." The men had discovered by this time that their arms had gone, and were utterly dr oncerted by the heavy and un expected fall they had just had. Feeling that they were indeed at the mercy of their captors, they lay quiet. "Now then," BoMero went on, " one at a time. Keep quiet, you rascals there ! " he broke off, shouting to the 276 BY ENGLAND ' 8 AID. sailors who were rolling and tumbling on the deck ibrward, *' or I will cut all your throats for you. Now then, Geoffrey, do you and the senior cut the rope that fastens that man on the port side to his comrades. -.larch him to the hatch way and make him go down into the hold. Keep your knives ready and kill him at once if he offers the slightest resistance. " One by one the superintendent the three guards, the captain and sailors were all made to descend into the hold, and the hatches were put over it and fastened down. "Now, senor," Geoffrey said, " we cau spare you/' The Spaniard hurried to the cabin, opened the door, and called out his daughter's name. There was a scream of delight within as Dolores Meiidez, who had been awakened by the tumult, recognized her father's voice, and leaping up from her couch threw herself into his arms. Geoffrey and his companion now opened the door of the forecastle and called the two sailors out. " Now," Boldero said, ' ' if you want to save your lives you have got to obey our orders. First of all fall to work and get up the anchor, and then shake out the sails again. I will take the helm, Geoffrey, and do you keep your eye on these two fellows. There is no fear of their playing any tricks now that they see they are alone on deck, but they inight, if your back were turned, unfasten the hatches. However, I do not think we need fear trouble that way, as for ought they know we may have cut the throats of all the others/' A few minutes later the vessel was moving slowly through the water with her head to the northwest. " We must be out of sight of land if we can by the morn ing," Stephen said, when Geoffrey two hours later came to take his place at the helm ; "at any rate until we have passed the place we started from. Once beyond that it does not matter much ; but it will be best either to keep out of sight of land altogether, or else to sail pretty close BY ENGLAND'S AID. 277 to it, so that they can see the boat is one of their own craft. We can choose which we will do when we see which way the breeze sets in the morning.*' It came strongly from the south, and they therefore determined to sail direct for Carthagena. 278 BY ENGLAND'S AID. CHAPTER XVII. A SPANISH MERCHANT. As soon as the sails had been set, and the vessel was under way, the Spaniard came out from the cabin. ''My daughter is attiring herself, sefior," he said to Stephen Boldero, for Geoffrey was at the time at the helm. " She is longing to see you, and to thank you for the inestimable services you have rendered to us both. But for yen I should now be (lying or dead, my daughter a slave for life in the palace of the bey. What astonishes us boia is, that such noble service should have been rendered to us by two absolute strangers, and not strangers only, but by Englishmen a people with whom Spain is at wur and who assuredly can have no reason to love us. llr/w came you first to think of interesting yourself on our be half ?" " To tell you the truth, sefior/' Stephen Boldero said bluntly, " it was the sight of your daughter and not of yourself that made us resolve to save you if possible, or rather, I should say, made my friend Geoffrey do so. After ten years in the galleys one's heart gets pretty tough, and although even I felt a deep pity for your daughter, I own it would never have entered my mind to risk my neck in order to save her. But Geoffrey is younger and more easily touched, and when he saw her as she landed pal t and white and grief-stricken, and yet looking as if he ^wn fate touched her less than the parting from you, my %~rA friend Geoffrey Vickars was well-nigh mad, and decla-.,d that in some way or other, and at whatever risk to o^ alves, yot> THE SPANIARD AND HIS DAUGHTER THANK GEOFFREY FOR THEIR Eng. Aid.] Page 379. BY ENGLAND'S AID. 279 must both be saved. In this matter I have been but a passive instrument in his hands ; as indeed it was only right that I should be, seeing that he is of gentle blood and an esquire serving under Captain Vere in the army of the queen, while I am but a rough sailor. "What I have done I have done partly because his heart was in the matter, partly because the adventure promised, if successful, to restore me to freedom, and partly also, senor, for the sake of your brave young daughter/' " Ah, you are modest, sir," the Spaniard said. " You are one of those who belittle your own good deeds. I feel indeed more grateful than I can express to you as well as to your friend." The merchant's daughter now appeared at the door of the cabin. Her father took her hand and led her up to Boldero. " This, Dolores, is one of the two Englishmen who have at the risk of their lives saved me from death and you from worse than death. Thank him, my child, and to the end of your life never cease to remember him in your prayers." " I am glad to have been of assistance, senora," Boldero said as the girl began to speak ; " but as I have just been telling your father, I have played but a small part in the business, it is my friend Don Geoffrey Vickars who has been the leader in the matter. He saw you landed at the boat, and then and there swore to save you, and all that has been done has been under his direction. It was he who followed and rescued your father, and I have really had nothing to do with the affair beyond hiding myself in the hold and helping to tie up your Moors." " Ah, sir," the girl said, laying her hands earnestly upon the sailor's shoulder, " it is useless for you to try to lessen the services you have rendered us. Think of what I was but an hour since a captive with the most horrible of all fates before me, and with the belief that my father was dying by inches in the hands of some cruel task-master, 280 BY ENGLAND'S AID. and now he is beside me and I am free. This has been done by two strangers, men of a nation which I have been taught to regard as an enemy. It seems to me that no words that I can speak could tell you even faintly what I Jeel. and it is God alone who can reward you for what you have done." Leaving Boldero, the Spaniard and his daughter went tc the stern, where Geoffrey was standing at the helm. " My daughter and I have come to think you, sefior, for having saved us from the worst of fates and restored us to each other. Your friend tells me that it is to yon it is chiefly due that this has come about, for that you were so moved to pity at the sight of my daughter when we first landed, that you declared at once that you wonld save her from her fate at whatever risk to yourself, and that since then he has been but following your directions." " Then if he says that, senor, he belies himself. I was, it is true, the first to declare that we must save your daughter at any cost if it were possible to do so ; but had I not said so, I doubt not he would have announced the same resolution. Since then we have planned everything together ; and as he is older and more experienced than I am, it was upon his opinion that we principally acted. We had long made up our minds to escape when the opportunity came. Had it not been that we were stirred into action by seeing your daughter in the hands of the Moors, it might have been years before we decided to run the risks. Therefore if you owe your freedom to us, to some extent we owe ours to you ; and if we have been your protectors so far, we hope that when we arrive in Spain you will be our protectors there, for to us Spain is as much an enemy's country as Barbary. " " That you can assuredly rely upon/' the trader replied. " All that I have i? at your disposal." For an hour they stood talking. Dolores said but little. She had felt no shyness with the stalwart sailor, but to this B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 281 youth who had doiie her such signal service she felt unable sft frankly to express her feelings of thankfulness. By morning the coast of Africa was but a faint line on the horizon, and the ship was headed west. Except when any alteration of the sails was required, the two Moors who acted as the crew were made to retire into the forecastle, and were there fastened in, Geoffrey and Boldero sleeping by turns. After breakfast the little party gathered round the helm, and at the request of Juan Mendez, Geoffrey and Stephen both related how it befell that they had become slaves to the Moors. " Your adventures are both singular/' the trader said when they had finished. " Yours, Don Geoffrey, are ex traordinary. It is marvelous that you should have been picked up in that terrible fight, and should have shared in all the perils of that awful voyage back to Spain with out its being ever suspected that you were English. Once landed in she service as you say of Senor Burke, it is not so surprising that you should have gone freely about Spain. But your other adventures are wonderful, and you and your friend were fortunate indeed in succeeding as you di< in carrying off the lady he loved ; and deeply they must have mourned your supposed death on the deck of the Moorish galley. And now tell me what are your plans when you arrive in Spain ? " " We have no fixed plans, save that we hope some day to be able to return home," Geoffrey said. " Stephen here could pass well enough as a Spaniard when once ashore without being questioned, and his idea is, if there is no possibility of getting on board an English or Dutch ship at Cadiz, to ship on board a Spaniard, and to take his chance of leaving her at some port at which she may touch. As for myself, although I speak Spanish fluently, my accent would at once betray me to be a foreigner. But if you will take me into jour house for a time until I can see a chance 282 3 T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. of escaping, my past need not be inquired into. You could of course mention, were it asked, that I was English by birth, but had sailed in the Armada with my patron, Mr. Burke, and it would be naturally supposed that I was an exile from England." " That can certainly be managed," the trader said. " I fear that it will be difficult to get you on board a ship either of your countrymen or of the Hollanders ; these are most closely watched lest fugitives from the law or from the Inquisition should escape on board them. Still, some opportunity may sooner or later occur ; and the later the better pleased shall I be, for it will indeed be a pleasure to me to have you with me." In the afternoon Geoffrey said to Stephen, " I have been thinking, Stephen, about the men in the hold, and I should be glad for them to return to their homes. If they go with us to Spain they will be made galley-slaves, and this I should not like, especially in the case of the bey's super intendent. The bey was most kind to us, and this man himself always spoke in our favor to him, and behaved well to us. I think, therefore, that out of gratitude to the bey we should let them go. The wind is fair, and there are, so far as I can see, no signs of any change of weather. By to-morrow night the coast of Spain will be in sight. I see no reason, therefore, why \ve should not be able to navigate her until we get near the land, when Mendez can engage the crew of some fishing-boat to take us into a port. If we put them into the boat with plenty of water and provisions. they will make the coast by morning ; and as I should guess that we must at present be somewhere abreast of the port from which we started, they will not be very far from home when they land." " I have no objection whatever, Geoffrey. As yon say we were not treated badly, at any rate from the day whe?i the bey had us up to his house ; and after ten years in the galleys, I do not wish my worst enemies such a fate. We B f JSX bLAND ' 8 AID. 283 must, of course, be careful how we get them into the boat." " There will be three of us with swords and pistols, and they will be unarmed," Geoffrey said. " We will put the two men now in the forecastle into the boat first, and let the others coine up one by one and take their places. We will have a talk with the superintendent first, and give him a message to the bey, saying that we are not ungrateful for his kindness to us, but that of course we seized the oppor tunity that presented itself of making our escape, as he would himself have done in similar circumstances ; never theless that as a proof of our gratitude to him, we for his sake release the whole party on board, and give them the means of safely returning/' An hour later the boat, pulled by four oars, left the side of the ship with the crew, the superintendent and guards, and the two women who had come on board to attend upon Dolores upon the voyage. The next morning the vessel was within a few miles of the Spanish coast. An hour later a fishing-boat was hailed, and an arrangement made with the crew to take the vessel down to Carthagena, which was, they learned, some fifty miles distant. The wind was now very light, and it was not until the following day that they entered the port. As it was at once perceived that the little vessel was Moorish in rigging and appearance, a boat immediately came alongside to inquire whence she came. Juan Mendez had no difficulty in satisfying the officer as to his identity, he being well known to several traders in the town. His story of the attack upon his ship by Bar- bary pirates, its capture, and his own escape and that of his daughter by the aid of two Christian captives, excited great interest as soon as it became known in the town ; for it was rare, indeed, that a captive ever succeeded in mak ing his escape from the hands of the Moors. It had al ready been arranged that, in telling his story, the trader 284 B T ENGLAND ' S AIL. should make as little as possible of his companions' share in the business, so that public attention should not be at tracted towards them. He himself with Dolores at once disembarked, but his companions did not come ashore until after nightfall. Stephen Boldero took a Spanish name, but Geoffrey re tained his own, as the story that he was traveling as a serv ant with Mr. Burke, a well-known Irish gentleman who had accompanied the Armada, was sufficient to account for his nationality. Under the plea that he was anxious to re turn to Cadiz as soon as possible, Senor Mendez arranged for horses and mules to start the next morning. He had sent off two trunks of clothes to the ship an hour after he landed, and the two Englishmen therefore escaped all ob servation, as they wandered about for an hour or two after landing, and did not go to the inn where Mendez was stay ing until it was time to retire to bed. The next morning the party started. The clothes that Geoffrey was wearing were those suited to an employe in a house of business, while those of Boldero were such as would be worn by the captain or mate of a merchant ves sel on shore. Both were supplied with arms, for although the party had nothing to attract the cupidity of robbers be yond the trunks containing the clothes purchased 011 the preceding day, and the small amount of money necessary for their travel on the road, the country was so infested by bands of robbers that no one traveled unarmed. The journey to Cadiz was, however, accomplished without ad venture. The house of Senor Mendez was a large and comfortable one. Upon the ground floor were his offices and store rooms. He himself and his family occupied the two next floors, while in those above his clerks and employes lived. His unexpected return caused great surprise, and in a few hours a number of acquaintances called to hear the story of the adventures through which he had passed, and to con- B Y ENGLAND ' 5 AID, 285 dole with him on the loss of his wife. At his own request Stephen Boldero had been given in charge of the principal clerk, and a room assigned to him in the upper story. " I shall be much more comfortable," he said, " among your people, Don Mendez. I am a rough sailor, and ten years in the galleys don't improve any manners a man may have had. If I were among your friends I would be out of place and uncomfortable, and should always have to be bowing and scraping and exchanging compliments, and besides they would soon find out that my Spanish was doubtful. I talk a sailor's slang, but I doubt if I should understand pure Spanish. Altogether, I should be very uncomfortable, and should make you uncomfortable, and I would very much rather take my place among the men that work for you until I can get on board a ship again." Geoffrey was installed in the portion of the house occu pied by the merchant, and was introduced by him to his friends simply as the English gentleman who had rescued him and his daughter from the hands of the Moors, it be ing incidentally mentioned that he had sailed in the Ar mada, and that he had fallen into the hands of the corsairs in the course of a voyage made with his friend Mr. Burke to Italy. He at once took his place as a friend and assistant of the merchant ; and as the latter had many dealings with Dutch and English merchants, Geoffrey was able to be of considerable use to him in his written communications to the captains of the various vessels of those nationalities in the port. " I think," the merchant said to him a fortnight after his arrival in Cadiz, "that, if it would not go against your conscience, it would be most advisable that you should ac- compauy me sometimes to church. Unless you do this, sooner or later suspicion is sure to be roused, and you know that if you were once suspected of being a heretic, the In quisition would lay its hands upon you in no time." " I have no objection whatever," Geoffrey said. " Were 1286 BT ENGLAND'S AID. I questioned I should at once acknowledge that I was a Protestant ; but I see no harm in going to a house of God to say my prayers there, while others are saying theirs in a different manner. There is no church of my own relig ion here, and I can see no harm whatever in doing as you suggest." " I am glad to hear that that is your opinion," Senor Mendez said, " for it is the one point concerning which I was uneasy. I have ordered a special mass at the church of St. Dominic to-morrow, in thanksgiving for our safe escape from the nands of the Moors, and it would be well that you should accompany us there. '' "I will do so most willingly/' Geoffrey said. " I have returned thanks many times, but shall be glad to do so again in a house dedicated to God's service/' Accordingly the next day Geoffrey accompanied Don Mendez and his daughter to the church of St. Dominic, and as he knelt by them wondered why men should hate each other because they differed as to the ways and meth ods in which they should worship God. From that time on he occasionally accompanied Senor Mendez to the church, saying his prayers earnestly in his own fashion, and praying that he might some day be restored to his home aud friends. He and the merchant had frequently talked over all possible plans for his escape, but the extreme vigilance of the Spanish authorities with reference to the English and Dutch trading ships seemed to preclude any possibility of his being smuggled on board. Every bale and package was closely examined on the quay before being sent off. Spanish officials were on board from the arrival to the de parture of each ship, and no communication whatever was allowed between the shore and these vessels, except in boats belonging to the authorities, every paper and document passing first through their hands for examination be fore being sent on board. The trade carried on between B Y ESGLAND ' 8 AID. 281 England, Holland, and Spain at the time when these ^nations were engaged in war was a singular one ; but it was permitted by all three countries, because the pro ducts of each were urgently required by the others. It was kept within narrow limits, and there were frequent angry complaints exchanged between the English govern ment and that of Holland, when either considered the other to be going beyond that limit. Geoffrey admitted to himself that he might again make the attempt to return to England, by taking passage as before in a ship bound for Italy, but he knew that Eliza beth was negotiating with Philip for peace, and thought that he might as well await the result. He was, indeed, very happy at Cadiz, and shrank from the thought of leav ing it. Stephen Boldero soon became restless, and at his urgent request Juan Mendez appointed him second mate on board one of his ships sailing for the West Indies, his intention being to make his escape if an opportunity offered but if not, he preferred a life of activity to wandering aimlessly about the streets of Cadiz. He was greatly grieved to part from Geoffrey, and promised that, should he ever reach England, he would at once journey down to Hedingham, and report his safety to his father and mother. " You will do very well here, Master Geoffrey," he said. " You are quite at home with all the Spaniards, and it will not be very long before you speak the language so well that, except for your name, none would take you for a foreigner. You have found work to do, and are really bet ter off here than you would be starving and fighting in Holland. Besides," he said with a sly wink, " there are other attractions for you. Juan Mendez treats you as a son, and the senorita knows that she owes everything to you. You might do worse than settle here for life. Like enough you will see me back again in six months' time, for if I see no chance of slipping off and reaching one of 288 BY ENGLAND'S AID. the islands held by the buccaneers, I shall perforce retur in the ship I go out in." At parting Senor Mendez bestowed a bag containing fivx hundred gold pieces upon Stephen Boldero as a reward foi the service he had rendered him. Geoffrey missed him greatly. For eighteen months they had been constantly together, and it was the sailors com panionship and cheerfulness that had lightened the first days of his captivity ; and had it not been for his advice and support he might now have been tugging at an oar in the bey's corsair galley. Ever since they had been at Cadiz he had daily spent an hour or two in his society ; for when work was done they generally went for a walk together on the fortifications, and talked of England and discussed the possibility of escape. After his departure he was thrown more than before into the society of the merchant ami his daughter. The feeling that Dolores, had, when he first saw her, excited within him had changed its character. She was very pretty now that she had recovered her life and spirits, and she made no secret of the deep feeling of gratitude she entertained towards him. One day, three months after Stephen's departure Senor Mendez, when they were alone together, broached the subject on which his thoughts had been turned so much of late. " Friend Geoffrey," he said, " I think that I am not mistaken in supposing that you have an affection for Do lores. I have marked its growth, and although I would naturally have rather bestowed her upon a countryman, yet, I feel that you have a right to her as having saved her from the horrible fate that would have undoubtedly befallen her, and that it is not for me, to whom you have restored her, besides saving my own life, to offer any ob jection. As to her feelings, I have no doubt whatever. Were you of my religion and race, such a match would afford me the greatest happiness. As it is I regret it only because I feel that some day or other it will lead to a sep- BY ENGLAND'S AID. 289 aration from me. It is natural that you should wish to v return to your own country, and as this war cannot go on for ever, doubtless in time some opportunity for doing so will arrive. This I foresee and must submit to, but if there is peace I shall be able occasionally to visit her in her home in England. I naturally hope that it will be long be fore I shall thus lose her. She is my only child, and I give- as her dower the half of my business, arid you will join me as an equal partner. When the war is over yon can, if you wish, establish yourself in London, and thence carry on and enlarge the English and Dutch trade of our house. I may even myself settle there. I have not thought this over at present, nor is there any occasion to do so. I am a wealthy man and there is no need for me to continue in business, and I am not sure when the time comes I shall not prefer to abandon my country rather than be sep arated from my daughter. At any rate for the present I offer you her hand and a share in my business." Geoffrey expressed in suitable terms the gratitude and delight he felt at the offer. It was contrary to Spanish notions that he should receive from Dolores in private any assurance that the proposal in which she was so largely concerned was one to which she assented willingly, but her father at once fetched her in and formally presented her to Geoffrey as his promised wife, and a month later the mar riage was solemnized at the church of St. Dominic. 290 B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AIQ CHAPTER XVIH. IVRY. THE day after the capture of Breda Sir Francis Vere sent for Lionel Vickars to his quarters. Prince Maurice and several of his principal officers were there, and the prince thanked him warmly for the share he had taken in the capture of the town. " Captain Heraugiere has told me," he said, "that the invention of the scheme that has ended so well is due as much to you as to him, that you accompanied him on the reconnoitering expedition and shared in the dangers of the party in the barge. I trust Sir Francis Vere will appoint you to the first ensigncy vacant in his companies, but should there be likely to be any delay in this I will gladly give yon a commission in one of my own regiments." " I have forestalled your wish, prince," Sir Francis said, " and have this morning given orders that his appointment shall be made out as ensign in one of my companies, but at present I do not intend him to join. I have been ordered by the queen to send further aid to help the King of France against the League. I have already despatched several com panies to Brittany, and will now send two others. I would that my duties permitted me personally to take part in the enterprise, for the battle of the Netherlands is at present being fought on the soil of France ; but this is impossible. Several of my friends, however, volunteers and others, will journey with the two companies, being desirous of fight ing under the banner of Henry of Navarre. Sir Ralph Pimpernel, who is married to a French Huguenot lady and has connections at the French court, will lead them- T B T ENGLAND ' S AID. j I have spoken to him this morning, and he will gladly allow my young friend here to accompany him. I think that it is the highest reward I can give him, to afford him thus an opportunity of seeing stirring service ; for I doubt not that in a very short time a great battle will be fought. We know that Alva has sent eighteen hundred of the best cavalry of Flanders to aid the League, and he is sure to have given orders that they are to be back again as soon as possible. How do you like the prospect, Lionel ?" Lionel warmly expressed his thanks to Sir Francis Vere for his kindness, and said that nothing could delight him more than to take part in such an enterprise. " I must do something at any rate to prove my gratitude for your share in the capture of this city," Prince Maurice said ; " and will send you presently two of the best horses of those we have found in the governor's stables, together wi'h arms and armor suitable to your rank as an officer of Sir Francis Vere." Upon the following morning a party of ten knights and gentlemen, including Lionel Vickars, rode to Bergen-op- Zoom. The two companies, which were drawn from the garrison of that town, had embarked the evening before in ships that had come from England to transport them to France. Sir Ealph Pimpernel and his party at once went on board, and as soon as their horses were embarked the sails were hoisted. Four days' voyage took them to the mouth of the Seine, and they landed ,t Honfleur on the south bank of the river. There was a large number of ships in port, for the Protestant princes of Germany were, as well as England, sending aid to Henry of Navarre, and numbers of gentlemen and volunteers were flocking to his banners. For the moment Henry IV. represented in the eyes of Europe the Protestant cause. He was supported by the Huguenots of France and by some of the Catholic noble men and gentry. Against him were arrayed the greater 292 BY ENGLAND'S AID. portion of the Catholic nobles, the whole faction of the Guises and the Holy League, supported by Philip of Spain. The party from Holland disembarked at midday on the 9th of March. Hearing rumors that a battle was expected rery shortly to take place, Sir Ralph Pimpernel started at once with his mounted party for Dreux, which town was being besieged by Henry, leaving the two companies of foot to press on at their best speed behind him. The dis tance to be ridden was about sixty miles, and late at night on the 10th they rode into a village eight miles from Dreux. Here they heard that the Duke of Mayenne, who com manded the force of the League, was approaching the Seine at Mantes with an army of ten thousand foot and four tnousand horse. " We must mount at daybreak, gentlemen," Sir Ralph Pimpernel said, "or the forces of the League will get between us and the king. It is evident that we have but just arrived in time, and it is well we did not wait for our foot-men." The next morning they mounted early and rode on to the royal camp near Dreux. Here Sir Ralph Pimpernel found Marshal Biron, a relation of his wife, who at once took him to the king. " You have just arrived in time, Sir Ralph," the king said when Marshal Biron introduced him, "for to-morrow, or at latest the day after, we are likely to try our strength with Mayenne. Yon will find many of your compatriots here. I can offer you but poor hospitality at present, but hope to entertain you rarely some day when the good city of Paris opens its gates to us." " Thanks, sire," Sir Ralph replied ; " but we have come to fight and not to feast." " I think I can promise you plenty of that at any rate," the king said. " You have ten gentlemen with you, I hear, and also that there are two companies of foot from Holland now on their way up from Honfleur." B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 293 " They landed at noon the day before yesterday, sire, and will probably be up to-morrow," " They will be heartily welcome, Sir Ralph. Since Par ma has sent so large a force to help Mayenne it is bnt right that Holland, which is relieved of the presence of these troops, should lend me a helping hand." Quarters were found for the party in a village near the camp ; for the force was badly provided with tents, the king's resources being at a very low ebb ; he maintained the war, indeed, chiefly by the loans he received from England and Germany. The next day several bodies of troops were seen approaching the camp. A quarter of an hour later the trumpets blew ; officers rode about, ordering the tents to be leveled and the troops to prepare to march. A messenger from Marshal Biron rode at full speed into the village, where many of the volunteers from England and Germany, besides the party of Sir Ralph Pimpernel, were lodged. " The marshal bids me tell you, gentlemen, that the army moves at once. Marshal D'Aumont has fallen back from Ivry ; Mayenne is advancing. The siege will be abandoned at present, and we march towards Nonancourt, where we shall give battle to-morrow if Mayenne is disposed for it." The camps were struck and the wagons loaded, and the army marched to St. Andre, a village situated on an ele vated plain commanding a view of all the approaches from the country between the Seine and Eure. " This is a fine field a for battle," Sir Ralph said, as the troops halted on the ground indicated by the camp-marshals. " It is splendid ground for cavalry to act, and it is upon them the brunt of the fighting will fall. We are a little stronger in foot; for several companies from Honfleur, our own among them, have come up this morning, and I hear we muster twelve thousand, which is more than thev sav / / Mayenne has with him. But then he has four thousand cavalry to our three thousand ; and Parma's regiments of Spaniards, Walloons, and Italian veterans are far superior 294 BY ENGLAND'S AID. troops to Henry's bands of riders, who are mostly Hugue not noblemen and gentlemen, with their armed retainers, tough and hardy men to figlit, as they have shown them selves on many a field, but without any of the discipline of Parma'.: troopers. " If Parma himself commanded yonder army I should not feel confident of the result ; but Mayenne, though a skilful general, is slow and cautious, while Henry of Xa- varre is full of fire and energy, and brave almost to rash ness. We are to muster under the command of the king himself. He will have eight hundred horse, formed into six squadrons, behind him, and upon these will, I fancy, come the chief shock of the battle. He will be covered on each side by the English and Swiss infantry ; in all four thousand strong. " Marshal Biron will be on the right with five troops of horse and four regiments of French infantry ; while on the left will be the troops of D'Aumont, Montpensier, Biron the younger, D'Angouleme, and De Givry, supported in all by two regiments of French infantry, one of Swiss, and one of German. The marshal showed us the plan of battle last night in his tent. It is well balanced and devised." It was late in the evening before the whole of the force had reached the position and the tents were erected. One of these had been placed at the disposal of Sir Ralph's party. Sir Ralph and four of his companions had been followed by their mounted squires, and these collected firewood, and supplied the horses with forage from the sacks they carried slung from their saddles, while the knights and gentlemen themselves polished up their arms and armor, so as to make as brave a show as possible in the ranks of the king's cavalry. When they had eaten their supper Lionel Vickars strolled through the camp, and was amused at the contrast presented by the various groups. The troops of cavalry of the French nobles were gayly attired ; the tents of the officers lar^e and commodious, with rich hangings and ap- B F ENGLAND ' S AU. 295 pointments. The sound of light-hearted laugiiLer came from the groups round the campfires, squires and pages moved about thickly, and it was evident that comfort, and indeed luxury, were considered by the commanders as essential even upon a campaign. The encampments of the German, Swiss, and English infantry were of far hum bler design. The tents of the officers were few in number, and of the simplest form and make. A considerable por tion of the English infantry had been drawn from Holland, for the little army there was still the only body of trained troops at Elizabeth's disposal. The Swiss and Germans were for the most part mer cenaries. Some had been raised at the expense of the Protestant princes, others were paid from the sums sup plied from England. The great proportion of the men were hardy veterans who had fought under many banners, and cared but little for the cause in which they were fighting, provided they obtained their pay regularly and that the rations were abundant and of good quality. The French infantry regiments contained men influenced by a variety of motives. Some were professional soldiers who had fought in many a field during the long wars that had for so many years agitated France, others were the re tainers of the nobles who had thrown in their cause with Henry, while others again were Huguenot peasants who were fighting, not for pay, but in the cause of their religion. The cavalry were for the most part composed of men of good family, relations, connections, or the superior vassals of the nobles who commanded or officered them. The king's own squadrons were chiefly composed of Huguenot gentlemen and their mounted retainers ; but with these rode many foreign volunteers like Sir Ralph PimperneFs party, attracted to Henry's banner either from a desire to aid the Protestant cause or to gain military knowl edge and fame under so brave and able a monarch, or simply from the love of excitement and military ardor. 296 BY ENGLAND'S AID. The camp of this main body of cavalry or "battalia/* as the body on whom the commander of our army chiefly relied for victory was called, was comparatively still and silent. The Huguenot gentlemen, after the long years of persecution to which those of their religion had been exposed, were for the most part poor. Their appoint ments were simple, and they fought for conscience' sake, and went into battle with the stern enthusiasm that after wards animated Cromwell's Ironsides. It was not long before the camp quieted down ; for the march had been a long one, and they would be on their feet by daybreak. The king himself, attended by Mar shals D'Aumont and Birou, had gone through the whole extent of the camp, seen that all was in order, that the troops had everywhere received their rations, and that the officers were acquainted with the orders for the morrow. He stayed a short time in the camp of each regiment and troop, saying a few words of encouragement to the sol diers, and laughing and joking with the officers. He paused a short time and chatted with Sir Ralph Pimper nel, who, at his request, introduced each of his com panions to him. Lionel looked with interest and admiration at the man who was regarded as the champion of Protestantism against Popery, and who combined in himself a remark able mixture of qualities seldom found existing in one person. He was brave to excess and apparently reckless in action, and yet astute, prudent, and calculating in council. With a manner frank, open, and winning, he was yet able to match the craftiest of opponents at their own weapons of scheming and duplicity. The idol of the Huguenots of France, he was ready to purchase the crown of France at the price of accepting the Catholic doctrines, for he saw that it was hopeless for him in the long run to maintain himself against the hostility of almost all the great nobl* of France, backed by the great proportion of BY ENGLAND'S AID. 297 the people and aided by the pope and the Catholic powers, so long as he remained a Protestant. But this change of creed was scarcely even foreseen by those who followed him, and it was the apparent hopelessness of his cause, and the gallantry with which he maintained it, that at tracted the admiration of Europe. Henry's capital was at the time garrisoned by the troops of the pope and Spain. The great nobles of France, who had long maintained a sort of semi-independence of the crown, were all against him, and were calculating on founding independent kingdoms. He himself was excom municated. The League were masters of almost the whole of France, and were well supplied with funds by the pope and the Catholic powers, while Henry was entirely dependent for money upon what he could borrow from Queen Elizabeth and the States of Holland. But no one who listened to the merry laugh of the king as he chatted with the little group of English gentlemen would have thought that he was engaged in a desperate and well-nigh hopeless struggle, and that the following day was to be a decisive one as to his future fortunes. "Well, gentlemen," he said as he turned his horse to ride away, " I must ask you to lie down as soon as possible. As long as the officers are awake and talking the men can not sleep ; and I want all to have a good night's rest. The enemy's camp is close at hand, and the battle is sure to take place at early dawn." As the same orders were given everywhere, the camp was quiet early, and before daylight the troops were called under arms and ranged in the order appointed for them to fight in. The army of the League was astir in equally good time. In its center was the battalia, composed of six hundred splendid cavalry, all noblemen of France, supported by a column of three hundred Swiss and two thousand French infantry. On the left were six hundred French cuiras- 298 BY ENGLAND'S AID. siers and the eighteen hundred troops of Parma, com manded by Count Egmoiit. They were supported by six regiments of French and Lorrainers, and two thousand Germans. The right wing was composed of three regi ments of Spanish lancers, two troops of Germans, four hundred cuirassiers, and four regiments of infantry. When the sun rose and lighted up the contending armies, the difference between their appearance was very marked. That of the League was gay with the gilded armor, waving plumes, and silken scarfs of the French nobles, whose banners fluttered brightly in the air, while the Walloons and Flemish rivaled their French comrades in the splendor of their appointments. In the opposite ranks there was neither gayety or show. The Huguenot nobles and gentlemen, who had for so many years been fighting for life and religion, were clad in armor dinted in a hundred battle-fields ; and while the nobles of the League were confident of the victory, and loud in demanding to be led against the foe, Henry of Navarre and his sol diers were kneeling, praying to the God of battles to enable them to bear themselves well in the coming fight. Henry of Xavarre wore in his helmet a snov,--white plume, which he ordered his troops to keep in view, and to follow wher ever they should see it waving, in case his banner went down. Artillery still played but a small part in battles on the field, and there were but twelve pieces on the ground, equally divided between the two armies. These opened the battle, and Count Egmont, whose cavalry had suffered from the fire of the Huguenot cannon, ordered a charge, and the splendid cavalry of Parma swept down upon the right wing of Henry. The cavalry under Marshal Biron were unable to withstand the shock and were swept before them, and Egmout rode on right up to the guns and sa bered the artillerymen. Almost at the same moment the German riders under Eric of Brunswick, the Spanish and BY ENGLAND'S AID. ^^ French lancers, charged down upon the center of the Royal Army. The rout of the right wing shook the cavalry in the center. They wavered, and the infantry on their flanks fell back, but the king and his officers rode among them, shouting and entreating them to stand firm. The ground in their front was soft and checked the im petuosity of the charge of the Leaguers, and by the time they reached the ranks of the Huguenots they were broken and disordered, and could make no impression whatever i;pon them. As soon as the charge was repulsed, Henry set his troops in motion, and the battalia charged down upon the dis ordered cavalry of the League. The lancers and cuiras siers were borne down by the impetuosity of the charge, and Marshal Biron, rallying his troops, followed the king's white plume into the heart of the battle. Egmont brought up the cavalry of Flanders to the scene, and was charging at their head when he fell dead with a musket-ball through the heart. Brunswick went down in the fight, and the shattered German and Walloon horse were completely overthrown and cut to pieces by the furious charges of the Huguenot cavalry. At one time the victorious onset was checked by the disappearance of the king's snow-white plumes, and a re port ran through the army that the king was killed. They wavered irresolutely. The enemy, regaining courage from the cessation of their attacks, were again advancing, when the king reappeared bareheaded and covered with dust and blood, but entirely unhurt. He addressed a few cneerful words to his soldiers, and again led a charge. It was irresistible ; the enemy broke and fled in the wildest confusion hotly pursued by the royalist cavalry, while the infantry of the League, who had so far taken no part whatever in the battle, were seized with a panic, threw away their arms, and sought refuge in the woods in their rear. 300 B Y ENGLAND ' S AID. Thus the battle was decided only by the cavalry, the infantry taking no part in the fight on either side. Eight hundred of the Leaguers either fell on the battle-field or were drowned in crossing the river in their rear. The loss of the royalists was but one-fourth that number. Had the king pushed forward upon Paris immediately after the battle, the city would probably have surrendered without a blow ; and the Huguenot leaders urged this course upon him. Biron and the other Catholics, however, argued that it was better to undertake a regular siege, and the king yielded to this advice, although the bolder course would have been far more in accordance with his own disposition. He was probably influenced by a variety of motives. In the first place his Swiss mercenaries were in a mutinous condition, and refused to advance a single foot unless they received their arrears of pay, and this Henry, whose chests were entirely empty, had no means of providing. In the second place he was at the time secretly in negotiation with the pope for his conversion, and may have feared to give so heavy a blow to the Catholic cause as would have been effected by the capture of Paris following closely after the victory of Ivry. At any rate he determined upon a regular siege. Moving forward lie seized the towns of Lagny on the Marne, and Corbeil on the Seine, thus entirely cutting off the food supply of Paris. Lionel Vickars had borne his part in the charges of the Huguenot cavalry, but as the company to which he be longed was in the rear of the battalia, he had no personal encounters with the enemy. After the advance towards Paris the duties of the cavalry consisted entirely in scouting the country, sweeping in provisions for their own army, and preventing supplies from entering Paris. No siege operations were under taken, the king relying upon famine alone to reduce the city. Its population at the time the siege commenced wa* B Y ENGLAND ' 5 AID. 301 estimated at 400,000, and the supply of provisions to be ^sufficient for a month. It was calculated therefore that before the League could bring up another army to its relief, it must fall by famine. But no allowance had been made for the religious en thusiasm and devotion to the cause of the League that animated the population of Paris. Its governor, the Duke of Nemours, brother of Mayenne, aided by the three Spanish delegates, the Cardinal Gaetauo, and by an army of priests and monks, sustained the spirits of the popula tion ; and though the people starved by thousands, the city resisted until towards the end of August. In that month the army of the League, united with twelve thou sand foot and three thousand horse from the Netherlands under Parma himself, advanced to its assistance ; while Maurice of Holland, with a small body of Dutch troops and reinforcements from England, had strengthened the army of the king. The numbers of the two armies were not unequal. Many of the French nobles had rallied round Henry after his victory, and of his cavalry four thousand were nobles and their retainers who served at their own expense, and Avere eager for a battle. Parma himself had doubts as to the result of the conflict. He could rely upon the troops he himself had brought, but had no confidence in those of the League ; and when Henry sent him a formal challenge to a general engagement, Parma replied that it was hi.; custom to refuse a combat when a refusal seemed advan tageous for himself, and to offer battle whenever it suited his purpose to fight. For seven days the two armies, each some twenty-five thousand strong, lay within a mile or two of each other. Then the splendid cavalry of Parma moved out in order of battle, with banners flying, and the pennons of the lances fluttering in the wind. The king was delighted when he saw that the enemy were at last advancing to the fight. 'J02 BY ENGLAND'S AID. He put his troops at once under arms, but waited until the plan of the enemy's battle developed itself before making his dispositions. But while the imposing array of cavalry was attracting the kiug's attention, Parma moved off with the main body of his army, threw a division across the river on a pontoon bridge, and attacked Lagny on both sides. When Lagny was first occupied some of Sir Ealph Pim pernel's party were appointed to take up their quarters there, half a company of the English, who had come with them from Holland, were also stationed in the town, the garrison being altogether 1200 strong. Lionel's horse had received a bullet wound at Ivry, and although it carried him for the next day or two, it was evident that it needed rest and attention, and would be unfit to carry his rider for some time. Lionel had no liking for the work 01 driving off the cattle of the unfortunate landowners and peasants, however necessary it might be to keep the army supplied with food, and was glad of the excuse that his wounded horse afforded him for remaining quietly in the town when his comrades rode out with the troop of cavalry stationed there. It happened that the officer in command of the little body of English infantry was taken ill with fever, and Sir Ralph Pimpernel requested Lionel to take his place. This he was glad to do, as he was more at home at infantry work than with cavalry. The time went slowly, but Lionel, who had comfortable quarters in the house of a citizen, did not find it long. The burgher's family con sisted of his wife and two daughters, and these congratu lated themselves greatly upon having an officer quartered upon them who not only acted as a protection to them against the insolence of the rough soldiery, but was courteous and pleasant in his manner, and tried in every way to show that he regarded himself as a guest and not a master. B T ENG^A ND ' 8 AID. 303 After the first week's stay he requested that instead of having his meals served to him in a room apart he might take them with the family. The girls were about Lionel's age, and atter the first constraint wore off he became great friends with them ; and although at first he had difficulty in making himself understood, he rapidly picked up a little French, the girls acting as his teachers. " What do you English do here ? " the eldest of them asked him when six weeks after his arrival they were able to converse fairly in a mixture of French and Spanish. " Why do you not leave us French people to fight out our quarrels by ourselves ? " " I should put it the other way," Lionel laughed. " Why don't you French people fight out your quarrels among yourselves instead of calling in foreigners to help you ? It is because the Guises and the League have called in the Spaniards to fight on the Catholic side that the English and Dutch have come to help the Huguenots. We are fighting the battle of our own religion here, not the battle of Henry of Navarre." "I hate these wars of religion," the girl said. "Why can we not all worship in our own way ?" " Ah, that is what we Protestants want to know, Made moiselle Claire ; that is just what your people won't allow. Did you not massacre the Protestants in France on the eve of St. Bartholomew ? and have not the Spaniards been for the last twenty years trying to stamp out with fire and sword the new religion in the Low Countries ? We only want to be left alone." " But your queen of England kills the Catholics." " Not at all," Lionel said warmly ; m the first been well satisfied with my capacity for business. You are not seven-and-twenty yet. You have had enough rough cam paigning to satisfy any one, and should be glad now of an easier and more sober method of life. Well, there is no occasion to settle anything at present, and I can well un derstand that you should prefer remaining in the army until the war comes to an end. When it does so, we can talk the matter over again ; only be well assured that tbe offer will be always open to you, and that I shall be glad indeed to have you with me/' A few days later, after Lionel left him, Geoffrey was passing along Chepe, when he stopped suddenly, stared hard at a gentleman who was approaching him, and then rushed towards him with outstretched hand. " My dear Gerald ! " he exclaimed, " I am glad to see you." The gentleman started back with an expression of the profoundest astonishment. "Is it possible ?" he cried. " Is it really Geoffry Vickars?" "Myself, and no other, Gerald." " The saints be praised ! Why, I have been thinking of you all these years as either dead or laboring at an oar in the Moorish galleys. By what good fortune did you escape ? and how is it I find you here, looking for all the world like a merchant of the city ? n B F ENGLAND ' S AID. 357 "It is too long a story to tell now, Gerald. Where are you staying?" "I have lodgings at Westminster, being at present a suitor at court." " Is your wife with you?" " She is. I have left my four children at home in Ire land." " Then bring her to sup with me this evening. I have a wife to introduce to yours, and as she is also a Spaniard it will doubtless be a pleasure to them both." "You astound me, Geoffrey. However, you shall tell me all about it this evening, for be assured that we shall come. Inez has so often talked about you, and lamented the ill-fortune that befell you owing to your ardor." "At six o'clock, then," Geoffrey said. "I generally dwell with my father-in-law at Chelsea, but am just at present at home. My house is in St. Mary Axe ; any one there will tell you which it is." That evening the two friends had a long talk together. Geoffrey learnt that Gerald Burke reached Italy without further adventure, and thence took ship to Bristol, and so crossed over to Ireland. On his petition, and solemn promise of good behavior in future, he was pardoned and a small portion of his estate restored to him. He was now in London endeavoring to obtain a remission of the for feiture of the rest. " I may be able to help you in that," Geoffrey said, " Sir Francis Vere is high in favor at court, and he will, at my prayer, I feel sure, use his influence in your favor when I tell him how you acted my friend on my landing in Spain from the Armada." Geoffrey then gave an account of his various adventures from the time when he was struck down from the deck of the Barbary corsair until the present time. " How was it," he asked when he concluded, " that yon 858 B Y ENGLAND ' 8 AID. did not write to my parents, Gerald, on your return home ? You knew where they lived." " I talked the matter over with Inez/' Gerald replied, " and we agreed that it was kinder to them to be silent. Of course they had mourned you as killed in the fight with the Armada. A year had passed, and the wound must have somewhat healed. Had I told them that you had escaped death at that time, had been months with r.;e in Spain, and had, on your way home, been either killed by the Moors or were a prisoner in their galleys, it would have opened the wound afresh, and caused them renewed pain and sorrow." "No doubt you were right, Gerald, and that it was, as you say, the kindest thing to leave them in ignorance of my fate." Upon the next visit Sir Francis "\ 7 ere paid to England, Geoffrey spoke to him with regard to Gerald Burke's affairs. Sir Francis took the matter up warmly, and his influence sufficed in a very short time to obtain an order for the res toration to Gerald of all his estates. Inez and Dolores became as fast friends as were their husbands ; and when the Burkes came to England Geoffrey's house was their home. The meeting with Gerald was followed by a still greater surprise, for not many days after, when Geoffrey was sitting with his wife and Don Meudez under the shade of a broad cypress in the garden of the merchant's house at Chelsea, they saw a servant coming across towards them, followed by a man in seafaring attire. " Here is a person who would speak to you, Master Vickars," the servant said. "I told him it was not your custom to see any here, and that if he had aught to say he should call at your house in St. Mary Axe ; but he said that he had but just arrived from Hedingham, and that your honor would excuse his intrusion when you saw him." " Bring him up ; he may be the bearer of a message from ST ENGLAND'S AID. 359 my father/' Geoffrey said ; and the servant went back to the man, whom he had left a short distance off. "Master Vickars will speak with you." The sailor approached the party. He stood for a minute before Geoffrey without speaking. Geoffrey looked at him with some surprise, and saw that the muscles of his face were twitching, and that he was much agitated. As he looked at him, remembrance suddenly flashed upon him, and he sprang to his feet. ''Stephen Boldero!" he ex claimed. " Ay, ay, Geoffrey, it is me." For a time the men stood with their right hands clasped and the left on each other's shoulders. Tears fell down the sailor's weather-beaten cheeks, and Geoffrey himself was too moved to speak. For two years they had lived as brothers, had shared each other's toils and dangers, had talked over their plans and hopes together ; and it was to Stephen that Geoffrey owed it that he was not now a galley- slave in Barbary. " Old friend, where have you been all this time?" he said at last. " I had thought you dead, and have grieved sorely for you." " I have had some narrow escapes," Stephen said ; " but you know I am tough. I am worth a good many dead men yet." " Inez, Seiior Mendez, you both remember Stephen Bol dero ? " Geoffrey said, turning to them. "We have never forgotten you," the Spaniard said shak ing hands with the sailor, " nor how much we owe to you. I sent out instructions by every ship that sailed to the Indies that inquiries should be made for you ; and more over had letters sent by influential friends to the governors of most of the islands saying that you had done great service to me and mine, and praying that if you were in any need or trouble you might be sent back to Cadiz, and that any moneys you required might be given to you at my 360 BY ENGLAND'S AID. charge. But we have heard naught of you from the day when the news came that you had left the ship in which you went out." " I have had a rough time of it these five years," Stephen said. "But I care not now that I am home again and have found my friend Geoffrey. I arrived in Bristol but last week, and started for London on the day I landed, mindful of my promise to let his people know that he was safe and well, and with some faint hope that the capture of Cadiz had set him at liberty. I got to Hedingham last night, and if I had been a prince Mr. Vickars and his dame and Sir Lionel could not have made more of me. They were fain that I should stop with them a day or two ; but when I heard that you were in London and had married Senora Dolores, and that Sefior Mendez was with you all of which in no way surprised me, for methought I saw it coming before I left Cadiz I could not rest, but was up at daylight this morning. Your brother offered to pro cure me a horse, but I should have made bad weather on the craft, and after walking from Bristol the tramp up to London was nothing. I got to your house in the city at four ; and, finding that you were here, took a boat at once, for I could not rest until I saw my friend again." Geoffrey at once took him into the house and set him down to a meal ; and when the party were gathered later on in the sitting-room, and the candles were lighted, Stephen told his story. " As you will have heard, we made a good voyage to the Indies. We discharged our cargo, and took in another. I learned that there were two English ships cruising near San Domingo, and the Dons were in great fear of them. I thought that my chance lay in joining them, so when we were at our nearest port to that island I one night bor rowed one of the ship's boats without asking leave, and made off. I knew the direction in which San Domingo lay, but no more. My hope was that I should either fall B T ENGLAND ' 8 AID. 361 in with our ships at sea, or, when I made the island, should be able to gather such information as might guide me to them. When I made the land, after being four days, out \ cruised about till the provisions and water I had put on board were exhausted, and I could hold out no longer. Then I made for the island and landed. " You may be sure I did not make for a port, where I should be questioned, but ran ashore in a wooded bay that looked as if no one had ever set foot there before. I dragged the boat up beyond, as I thought, the reach of the sea, and started to hunt for food and water. I found enough berries and things to keep me alive, but not enough to stock my boat for another cruise. A week after I landed there was a tornado, and when it cleared off and I had recovered from my fright for the trees were blown down like rushes, and I thought my last day was come I found that the boat was washed away. I was mightily disheartened at this, and after mnch think ing made up my mind that there was naught for it but to keep along the shore until I arrived at a port, and then to give out that I was a shipwrecked sailor, and either try to get hold of another boat, or take passage back to Spain and make a fresh start. However, the next morning, just as I was starting, a number of natives ran out of the bush and seized me, and carried me away up into the hills. It was not pleasant at first, for they lit a big fire and were going to set me on the top of it, taking me for a Spaniard. Seeing their intentions, I took to arguing with them, and told them in Spanish that I was no Spaniard, but an English man and that I had been a slave to the Spaniards and had escaped. Most of them understood some Spanish, having themselves been made to work as slaves in their plantations, and being all runaways from the tyranny of their masters. They knew, of course, that we were the enemies of the Spaniards, and had heard of places being sacked and ships taken by us. But they doubted my story 362 BY ENGLAND'S AID. for a long time, till at last one of them brought a crucifii that had somehow fallen into their hands, and held it up before me. When I struck it down, as a good Protestant should do, they saw that I was not of the Spanish religion, and so loosed my bonds and made much of me. " They could tell me nothing of the whereabouts of our ships, for though they had seen vessels at times sail by, the poor creatures knew nothing of the difference of rig be tween an English craft and a Spaniard. I abode with them for two years, and aided them in their fights whenever the Spaniards sent out parties, which they did many times, to capture them. They were poor, timorous creatures, their spirits being altogether broken by the tyranny of the Dons ; but when they saw that I feared them not, and was ready at any time to match myself against two or, if need be, three of the Spaniards, they plucked up heart, and in time came to fight so stoutly that the Spaniards thought it best to leave them alone, seeing that we had the advantage of knowing every foot of the woods, and were able to pounce down upon them when they were in straitened places and forced to fight at great disadvantage. " I was regarded as a great chief by the natives, and could have gone on living with them comfortably enough had not my thoughts been always turning homeward, and a great desire to be among my own people, from whom I had been so long separated, devoured me. At last a Spanish ship was driven ashore in a gale ; she went to pieces, and every soul was drowned. When the gale abated the natives went down to collect the stores driven ashore, and I found on the beach one of her boats washed up almost uninjured, so nothing would do but I must sail away in her. The natives tried their hardest to persuade me to stay with them, but finding that my mind was fixed beyond recall they gave way and did their best to aid me. The boat was well stored with provisions ; we made a sail for her out of one belonging to the ship, and I set off, promising them BY ENGLAND'S AID. 863 that if I could not alight upon an English ship I would return to them. " I had intended to keep my promise, but things turned *out otherwise. I had not been two days at sea when there was another storm, for at one time of the year they have tornadoes very frequently. I had nothing to do but to run for it, casting much of my provisions overboard to lighten the boat, and baling without ceasing to keep out the water she took in. After running for many hours I was, some where about midnight, cast on shore. I made a shift to save myself, and in the morning found that I was on a low key. Here I lived for three weeks. Fortunately there was water i: some of the hollows of the rocks, and as tur tles came ashore to lay their eggs I managed pretty well for a time ; but the water dried up, and for the last week I had naught to drink but the blood of the turtles. One morning I saw a ship passing not far off, and mak ing a signal with the mast of the boat that had been washed ashore with me I attracted their attention. I saw that she was a Spaniard, but I could not help that, for I had no choice but to hail her. They took me to Porto Rico and there reported rne as a shipwrecked sailor they had picked up. The governor questioned me closely as to what vessel I had been lost from, and although I made up a good story he had his doubts. Fortunately it did not enter his mind that I was not a Spaniard ; but he said he believed I was some bad character who had been marooned by my comrades for murder or some other crime, and so put me in prison until he could learn something that would verify my story. " After three months I was taken out of prison, but was set to work on the fortifications, and there for another two years I had to stop. Then I managed to slip away one day, and, hiding till nightfall, made my way down through the town to the quays and swam out to a vessel at anchor. I climbed on board without notice, and hid myself below, 8G4 BY ENGLAND ' 8 AID. where I lay for two days until she got tip sail. When I judged she was well away from the land I went on deck and told my story, that I was a shipwrecked sailor who had been forced by the governor to work at the fortifica tions. They did not believe me, saying that I must be some criminal who had escaped from justice, and the cap tain said he should give me up at the next port the ship touched. Fortunately four days afterwards a sail hove in sight and gave chase, and before it was dark was near enough to fire a gun and make us heave to, and a quarter of an hour later a boat came alongside, and I again heard English spoken for the first time since I had left yon at Cadiz. " It was an English buccaneer, who, being short of water and fresh vegetables, had chased us, though seeing we were but a petty trader and not likely to have aught else worth taking on board. They wondered much when I discovered myself to them and told them who I was and how I had come there ; and when, on their rowing me on board their ship, I told the captain my story he told me that he thought I was the greatest liar he had ever met. To be a galley- slave among the Spaniards, a galley-slave among the Moors, a consorter with Indians for two years, and again a prisoner with the Spaniards for as much more, was more than fell to the lot of any one man, and he, like the Span ish governor, believed that I was some rascal who had been marooned, only he thought that it was from an English ship. However, he said that as I was a stout fellow he would give me another chance ; and when, a fortnight later, we fell in with a great Spanish galleon and captured her with a great store of prize-money after a hard fight for six hours, the last of which was passed on the deck of the Spaniard cutting and slashing for, being laden with silver, she had a company of troops on board in addition to her crew the captain said, that though an astonish ing liar there was no better fellow on board a ship, and, B Y ENGLAND ' S AID. 365 putting it to the crew, they agreed I had well earned my share of the prize-money. When we had got the silver on board, which was a heavy job I can tell you, though not an unpleasant one, we put what Spaniards remained alive into the boats, fired the galleon, and set sail for England, where we arrived without adventure. The silver was divided on the day before we cast anchor, the owner's share being first set aside, every man his share, and the officers theirs in proportion. Mine came to over a thousand pounds, and it needed t\\x strong men to carry the chest up to the office of the owners, who gave me a re ceipt for it, which, as soon p.s I got, I started for London ; and here, as you see, I am. " And now, what do you propose to do with yourself, Stephen ?" Geoffrey asked. " I shall first travel down again to Devonshire and see what friends I have remaining there. I do not expect to find many alive, for fifteen years make many changes. My father and mother were both dead before I started, and my uncle, with whom I lived for a time, is scarce like to be alive now. Still I may find some cousins and friends I knew as a boy/' "I should think you have had enough of the sea, Stephen, and you have now ample to live ashore in com fort for the rest of your . Je/' " Yes, I shall go no more to sea," Stephen said. " Ex cept for this last stroke of luck fortune has always been against me. What I should like, Master Geoffrey, most of all, would be to come up and work under you. I could be of advantage in seeing to the loading and unloading vessels and the storage of cargo. As for pay, I should not want it, having, as you say, enough to live comfortably upon. Still I should like to be with you." "And I should like to have you with me, Stephen. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. If you are still of that mind when you return from Devonshire we can COG BY ENGLAND'S AID. again talk the matter over,, and as our wishes are both the same way we can have no difficulty in coming to an agree ment." Stephen Boldero remained for a week in London and then journeyed down to Devonshire. His idea of entering Geoffrey's service was never carried out, for after he had been gone two months Geoffrey received a letter from him saying that one of his cousins, who had been but a little girl when he went away, had laid her orders upon him to buy a small estate and settle down there, and that as she was willing to marry him on no other terms he had noth ing to do but to assent. Once a year, however, regularly to the end of his life Stephen Boldero came up to London to stay for a fort night with Geoffrey, always coming by road, for he de clared that he was convinced if he set foot on board a ship again she would infallibly be wrecked on her voyage to London. B T ENGLAND ' S AID. 867 CHAPTER XXIII. THE SIEGE OF OSTEXD. ON" the 5th of July, 1601, the Archduke Albert began the siege of Ostend with 20,000 men and 50 siege-guns. Ostend had been completely rebuilt and fortified eighteen years previously, and was defended by ramparts, counter scarps, and two broad ditches. The sand-hills between it and the sea were cut through, and the water filled the ditches and surrounded the town. To the south the country was intersected by a network of canals. The river Yper-Leet came l.i at the back of the town, and after mingling with the salt water in the ditches found its way to the sea through the channels known as the Old Haven and the Geule, the first on the west, the second on the east of the town. On either side of these channels the land rose slightly, enabling the besiegers to plant their batteries in very ad vantageous positions. The garrison at first consisted of but 2000 men under Governor Vander Nood. The States- general considered the defense of Ostend to be of extreme importance to the cause, and appointed Sir Francis Vere general of the army in and about Ostend, and sent with him 600 Dutch troops and eight companies of English under the command of his brother, Sir Horace. This raised the garrison to the strength of 3600 men. Sir Francis landed with these reinforcements on the sands opposite the old town, which stood near the seashore be- ween the Old Haven and the Geule, and was separated from the new town by a broad channel. He was forced to 368 BY E AID. land here, as the Spanish guns on the sand-hills com manded the entrances of the two channels. Sixteen thousand of the Spanish troops under the order of the archduke were encamped to the west of the town, and had 30 of their siega-guns in position there, while 4000 men were stationed on the east of the town under Count Bucquoy. Ten guns wen in position on that side. Ostend had no natural advantages for defense beyond the facility of letting the sea into the numerous channels and ditches which intersected the city, and protected it from any operations on the south side. On the east the Geule was broad and deep, and an assault from this side was very difficult. The Old Haven, on the west side, was fast fill ing up, and was fordable for four hours every tide. This, therefore, was the weak side of the town. The BY ENGLAND'S AID. 369 portion especially exposed to attack was the low sandy flat on which the old town stood, to the north of Ostend. It was against this point, separated only from the enemy's position by the shallow Old Haven, that the Spaniards concentrated their efforts. The defense here consisted of a work called the Porc-Espic, anc ^ bastion in its rear called the Helmond These works lay to the north of thf ditch dividing the old from the new town, while on tnt opposite side of this ditch was a fort called the Sand-hill, from which along the sea face of the town ran strong pali sades and bastions. The three principal bastions were named the Schotten- burg, Moses' Table, and the Flamenburg, the last-named defending the entrance to the Geule on the eastern side. There was a strong wall with tr _e bastions, the North Bulwark, the East Bulwark or Pekell, and the Spanish Bulwark at the southeast angle, Avith an outwork called the Spanish Half-moon on the other side of the Geule. The south side was similarly defended by a wall with four strong bastions, while beyond these at the southwest cor ner lay a field called the Polder, extending to the point where the Yper-Leet ran into the ditches. Sir Francis Vere's first step after his arrival was to throw up three redoubts to strengthen the wall round this field, as had the enemy taken possession of it they might have set the windmills upon it to work and have drained out many of the ditches. Having secured this point he cut a passage to the sea between the Northwest Bulwark and the Flamenburg Fort, so that shipping might enter the port without having to ascend the Geule, exposed to the fire of the Spanish guns. To annoy the enemy and draw them away from the vital point near the sea, he then stationed 200 men on some rising ground surrounded by swamps and ditches at some distance to the south of the city, and from here they were able to open fire on the enemy's boats coming w : .th supplies from Bruges- S70 BY ENGLAND'S AID. The operation was successful. The Spaniards, finding their line of communication threatened, advanced in force from their position by the sea, and their forts opened a heavy fire on the little work thrown up. Other similar attempts would have been made to harass the Spaniards :md divert them from their main work, had not Sir Francis A'ere been severely wounded in the head on the 4th of August by a shot from the Spanish batteries, which con tinued to keep up a tremendous fire upon the town. So serious was the wound that the surgeons were of opinion that the only chance of saving his life was to send him away from the din and turmoil of the siege ; and on the 10th he was taken to Middleburg, where he remained for a month, returning to Ostend long before his wound was properly healed. On the 1st of August a batch of recruits had arrived from England, and on the 8th 1200 more were landed. The fire of the besiegers was now so heavy that the soldiers were forced to dig underground quarters to shelter them selves. Sir Horace Yere led out several sorties ; but the besiegers, no longer distracted by the feints contrived by Sir Francis, succeeded in erecting a battery on the margin of the Old Haven, and opened fire on the Sand-hill Fort. On the 19th of September Sir Francis Vere returned to the town, to the great joy of the garrison. Reinforce ments continued to arrive, and at this time the garrison numbered 4480. There were, too, a large number of noblemen and gentlemen from England, France, and Hol land, who had come to learn the art of war under the man who was regarded as the greatest general of the time. All who were willing to work and learn were heartily welcomed ; those who were unwilling to do so were soon made to feel that a besieged city was no place for them. While the fighting was going on the archduke had at tempted to capture the place by treason. He engaged a traite** named Coningsby ; who crossed to England, ol>- B Y ENGLAND 'S AID. 371 tained lett*.. . . introduction to Vere, and then went to Ostend. Thence he sent intelligence to the besiegers of all that took place in the town, placing his letters at night in an old boat sunk in the mud on the bank of the Old Haven, a Spaniard wading across at low tide and fetching them away. He then attempted to bribe a sergeant tc blow up the powder magazine. The sergeant revealed the plot. Coningsby was seized and confessed everything, and by an act of extraordinary clemency was only sentenced to be whipped out of town. This act of treachery on the part of the archduke justi fied the otherwise dishonorable stratagem afterwards played by Vere upon him. All through October and November the Spaniards were hard at work advancing their batteries, sinking great baskets filled with sand in the Old Haven to facilitate the passage of the troops, and building floating batteries in the Geule. On the night of the 4th of Decem ber they advanced suddenly to the attack. Vere and his officers leapt from their beds and rushed to the walls, and after a fierce struggle the besiegers were driven back. Straw was lighted to enable the musketeers and gunners to fire upon them as they retreated, and the assault cost them five hundred lives. On the 12th a hard frost set in, and until Christmas a strong gale from the southeast blew. No succor could reach the town. The garrison were dwindling fast, and ammunition fulling short. It required fully 4000 men to guard the walls and forts, while but 2500 remained capa ble of bearing arms. It was known that the archduke soon intended to make an assault with his whole force, and Vere knew that he could scarcely hope to repel it. He called a council of his chief officers, and asked their opinion whether with the present numbers all parts of the works could be manned in case of assault, and if not whether it was advisable to withdraw the guards from all the outlying positions and to hold only the town. 372 S Y ENGLAND ' a AID. They were unanimously of opinion that the force was ioo small to defend the whole, but Sir Horace Vere and Sir John Ogle alone gave their advice to abandon the out lying forts rather than endanger the loss of the town. The other officers were of opinion that all the works should be held, although they acknowledged that the dis posal force was incapable of doing so. Some days elapsed, and Vere learned that the Spanish preparations were all complete, and that they were only waiting for a low tide to attack. Time was everything, for a change of wind would bring speedy succor, so without taking council with any one he sent Sir John Ogle with a drummer to the side of the Old Haven. Don Mateo Serrano came forward, and Ogle gave his message, which was that General Vere wished to have some qualified person speak to him. This was reported to the archduke, who agreed that Serrano and another Spanish officer should go into the town, and that Ogle and a comrade should come as hostages into the Spanish camp. Sir John Ogle took his friend Sir Charles Fairfax with him, and Serrano and Colonel Antonio crossed into Ostend. The two Englishmen were conducted to the archduke, who asked Sir John Ogle to tell him if there was any de ceit in the matter. Ogle answered if there were it was more than he knew, for Vere had simply charged him to carry the message, and that he and Fairfax had merely come as hostages for the safe return of the Spanish officers. Ogle was next asked whether he thought the general in tended sincerely or not, and could only reply that he was altogether unacquainted with the general's purpose. The next morning Serrano and Antonio returned with out having seen Vere. The pretext on which they had been sent back was that there was some irregularity in their coming across ; but instead of their being sent back across the Old Haven they were sent across the Geule, and had to make a long round to regain the archduke's camp. BY ENGLAND'S AID. 373 Thus ad il a night were gained. The next day, towards evening*, the two Spanish officers were admitted *into Ostend, and received very hospitably by Sir Francis. After supper many healths were drunk, and then Sir Francis informed them to their astonishment that his proposal was not that he should surrender Ostend, but that the archduke should raise the siege. But it was now far too late for them to return, and they went to bed in the general's quarters. During the two nights thus gained the defenders had worked incessantly in repairing the palisades facing the point at which the attack would take place, a work that they had hitherto been unable to per form owing to the tremendous fire that the Spaniards kept up night and day upon it. At break of day five men-of-war from Zeeland came to anchor off the town. They brought four hundred men, and provisions and materials of war of all kinds. They were immediately landed under a heavy fire from the enemy's batteries on both sides. The firing awoke the two Spanish envoys, who inquired what was taking place. They were politely informed by Sir Francis Yere that succor had arrived, and the negotiations were of course broken off ; and they were accordingly sent back, while Ogle and Fairfax returned to Ostend. Vere's account of the transaction was that he had simply asked for two Spanish officers to speak with him. He had offered no terms, and there was therefore no breach of faith. The commander of a besieged town, he insisted, is always at liberty to propose a parley, which the enemy can accept or not as he chooses. At any rate, it was not for the archduke, who had hired a traitor to corrupt the garrison, to make a complaint of treachery. Twelve hundred men were employed for the next eight days in strengthening the works, Sir Francis being always with them at night, when the water was low, encouraging them by his presence and example. 374 -B T ENGLAND ' 5 AID. Early in January lie learned that the enemy were pre paring for tb<3 assault, and on the ?th a crushing fire was kept up on the Porc-Espic, Helmond and Sand-hiil forts. The Spaniards had by this time fired 163,200 cannon-shot into the town, and scarcely a whole house was left stand ing. Towards evening they were seen bringing scaling- ladders to the opposite bank of the Haven. Two thou sand Italian and Spanish troops had been told off to attack the sand-hill, two thousand were to assault Helmond and the Porc-Espic, two parties of five hundred men each were to attack other works, while on the east side Count Buc- quoy was to deliver a general assault. The English general watched all these preparations with the greatest vigilance. At high water he closed the west sluice, which let the water into the town ditch from the Old Haven, in the rear of Helmond, in order to retain as much water as possible, and stationed his troops at the various points most threatened. Sir Horace Vere and Sir Charles Fairfax, with twelve weak companies, some of them reduced to ten or twelve men, were stationed on the sand-hill. Four of the strongest companies garrisoned the Porc- Espic ; ten weak companies and nine cannon loaded with musket bullets defended the Helmond. These posts were commanded by Sergeant-major Carpenter and Captain Meetkerk ; the rest of the force were disposed at the other threatened points. Sir Francis himself, with Sir Lionel Vickars as his right hand, took his post on the wall of the old town, between the sand-hill and the Schottenburg, which had been much damaged by the action of the waves during the gales and by the enemy's shot. Barrels of ashes, heaps of stones and bricks, hoops bound with squibs and fireworks, ropes of pitch, hand-grenades, and barrels of nails were collected in readiness to hurl down upon the assailants. At dusk the besiegers ceased firing, to allow the guns f BY ENGLAND'S AID. 375 cool. Two engineer officers with fifty stoat sappers, who each iiad a rose-noble for every quarter of an hour's work, got on to the breach in front of the sand-hill, and threw up a small breastAvork, strengthened by palisades, across it. An officer crept down towards the Old Haven, and presently returned with the news that two thousand of the enemy were wading across, and forming up in battalions on the Ostend side. Suddenly a gun boomed out from the archduke's camp as a signal to Bucquoy, and just as the night had fairly set in the besiegers rushed to the assault from all points. They were received by a tremendous fire from the guns of the forts and the muskets of the soldiers ; but, although the effect was serious, they did not hesitate a moment, but dashed forward towards the foot of the sand-hill and the wall of the old town, halted for a moment, poured in a volley, and then rushed into the breach and against the walls. The volley had been harmless, for Vere had ordered the men to lie flat until it was given. As the Spaniards climbed up barrels of ashes were emptied upon them, stones and heavy timbers hurled down, and flaming hoops cast over their necks. Three times they climbed to the crest of the sand-hill, and as many times gained a footing on the Schottenburg ; but each time they were beaten back with great slaughter. As fiercely did they attack at the other points, but were everywhere repulsed. On the east side three strong battalions of the enemy ;' tacked the outwork across the Geule, known as the Spanish Half-moon. Yere, who was everywhere supervis ing the defense, ordered the weak garrison there to with draw, and sent a soldier out to give himself up, and to tell them that the Half-moon was slenderly manned, and to offer to lead them in. The offer was accepted, and the Spaniards took possession of the work. The general's object was to occupy them, and prevent their supporting their comrades in the western attack. 376 BY ENGLAND'S AID. The Half-moon, indeed, was quite open towards the town. Tide was rising, and a heavy fire was opened upon the captora of the work from the batteries across the Geule, and they were driven out with the loss of three hundred men. At length the assault was repulsed at all points, and the assailants began 1: retire across the Old Haven. No sooner did they begin to ford it than Vere opened the west sluice, and the water in the town ditch rushed down ir a torrent, carry ing numbers of the Spaniards away into the sea. Altogether, the assault cost the Spaniards two thousand men. An enormous amount of plunder in arms, gold chains, jewels, and rich garments were obtained by the de fenders frm the bodies of the fallen. The loss of the garrison was only thirty killed and a hundred wounded. The repulse of the grand attack upon Ostend by no means put an end to the siege. Sir Francis Vere, his brother Horace, Sir John Ogle, and Sir Lionel Vickars left, the general being summoned to assume command in the field ; but the siege continued for two years and a half longer. Many assaults were repulsed during that time, and the town surrendered on the 20th September, 1604, when the sand-hill, which was the key of the whole position, was at last captured by the Spaniards. It was but a heap of ruins that they had become possessed of after their three years* siege, and its capture had not only cost them an immense number of men and a vast amount of money, but the long and gallant defense had ;:cured upon a firm basis the independence of Holland. \Vhile the whole available force of Spain had been so oc cupied Prince Maurice and his English allies had captured town after town, and had beaten the enemy whenever they attempted to show themselves in the open field. They had more than counterbalanced the loss of Ostend by the recapture of Sluys, and had so lowered the Spanish pride that not long afterwards a twelve years' truce was con cluded, which virtually brought the war to an end, and secured for ever the independence of Holland. BT ENGLAND'S AID. 377 During the last year or two of the war Sir Francis Vere, worn out by his fatigues and the countless wounds he had v received in the service of the Netherlands, had resigned his command and retired to England, being succeeded in his position by Sir Horace. Lionel Vickars fought no more after he had borne his part in the repulse of the great assault against Ostend. He had barely recovered from the effect of the wound he had received at the battle of Nieuport, and the fatigues and anxiety of the siege, to gether with the damp air from the marshes, brought on a serious attack of fever, which completely prostrated him as soon as the necessity for exertion had passed. He re mained some weeks at the Hague, and then, being some what recovered, returned home. While throughout all England the greatest enthusiasm had been aroused by the victory of Nieuport and the re pulse of the Spaniards at Ostend, the feeling was naturally higher in the Vere's county of Essex than elsewhere. As soon as Lionel V'okars was well enough to take any share in gayeties he received many invitations to stay at the great houses of the country, where most of the gentry were more or less closely connected with the Veres ; and before he had been home many months he married Dorothy Wind- hurst, one of the richest heiresses in the country, and a cousin of the Veres. Thus Geoffrey had, after Juan Mendez retired from taking any active part in the business, to work alone until his sons were old enough to join him in the business. As soon as they were able to undertake its active management, Geoff ery bought an estate near Hedingham, and there settled down, journeying occasion ally to London to see how the affairs of the house went on, and to give advice to his sons. Dolores had, two or three years after her arrival in England, embraced the faith of her husband ; and although she complained a little at times of the English climate, she never once regretted the step she had taken in leaving her native Spain. t Reasons why you should obtain a Cat alogue of our Publications A postal to ut -will plate it in your hands 1. You will possess a comprehen sive and classified list of all the best standard books published, at prices less than offered by others. 2. 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