His reply was a hideous scowl, and like a flash the truth came to my mind--it was Increase Joyce, my father's murderer!

For a moment I could scarce refrain from throwing myself upon him; but reflecting that little would be gained thus, and that much might be obtained by strategy, I refrained, and, shrugging my shoulders indifferently, I turned from him and walked to the farther part of the room.

I saw him no more that day, but on the day following he again entered my apartment or cell--call it which you will. Though feigning to avoid conversation with him, I found that his moody fit had pa.s.sed, and that he was willing to talk.

Little by little I gathered his history, which, though mostly lies, gave me an insight into his movements and plans.

He had, he said, fled the country at the Restoration for political reasons, a price having been set upon his head. (I smiled grimly at this, knowing only too well why his head was thus valued.) He had served as a soldier of fortune on the Rhine and in the Low Countries, finally joining the army of the States of Holland and rising to his present rank; though, in justice to the Dutch be it said, he was never allowed to take up arms against his own countrymen.

I had heard enough for once, and for the time being I resolved not to mention the matter either to Drake or to Felgate.

Of what was taking place betwixt England and Holland we learned little. Occasionally we had a visit from the governor of the fortress, a Major Van der Wycke, a courteous and honest soldier, who carefully refrained from hurting our susceptibilities with reference to the war, though he told us of the great fire that practically destroyed the best part of London. This we were told on Christmas Day, over three months after its occurrence.

Very slowly the days pa.s.sed. Winter gave place to spring, yet no sign of our being released was given us, neither did any loophole of escape present itself. One day Joyce came into my room with the news that he was leaving the service of the States of Holland, and had a good offer for his sword from the King of France. He seemed very elated, and now was the time to obtain what information I could.

"Thou art a Yorkshireman, perchance?" I enquired offhandedly, interrupting him in the midst of a rambling statement.

"I a Yorkshireman? Never, young sir!"

"Then from Lincolnshire, doubtless?"

"Nor from Lincolnshire. Why didst think so?"

"From thy manner of speech, Sergeant," I replied, forcing a laugh. "It savours much of the north."

"I have travelled much, and know both those counties well."

"Then perchance Midgley is known to you, Sergeant?"

"I cannot recall the name. Where is it?"

"It is my native village," I a.s.serted, with a slight deviation from the truth. "It lies betwixt Pontefract and Holwick."

At the mention of Holwick he started, yet, retaining command over his feelings, he remarked: "I know it not. But, beshrew me! the name of Holwick reminds me---- Dost know Holwick well?"

"Pa.s.sably," I replied offhandedly. "There is a market cross, a church, a score or so of stone houses, a castle more or less in ruin, and a----"

"A castle, sayest thou?" he interrupted excitedly. "And who lives there?"

"I cannot say."

"Ah! Now, concerning this castle," he remarked, tapping his clay pipe on his heel with such vehemence that the stem broke in three places, "I have heard that a goodly store of treasure lies hidden there. In fact, an old comrade of mine, who lay stricken to death on the field of Marston Moor, did bestow upon me a paper whereby the treasure should be mine. But either he was befooling himself or me, for I could find nothing."

Here was a piece of good fortune.

"Where did you look?" I enquired disinterestedly.

"Where did I look? Now, out on me for a dolt! I delved every night for more than a fortnight, till the countryside rang with tales of the ghost of Holwick, and none would venture near o' nights, and hardly by day."

"Were the directions fully adhered to?"

He looked fixedly at me for a moment, as if suspecting my thoughts, then from his pocket he produced the identical metal box that he had filched from my father's corse. Again I could hardly refrain from springing upon him; but discretion is ever the better part of valour.

From the box he drew a folded paper, yellow with age, and discoloured and torn with frequent usage.

"Mark you, what a jargon! 'Without ye two tall of ye thirty-two paces right dig Holwick may the treasure give full out mine whereas my----' Did ever a man have such a frail clue?"

"Then what did you do?"

"Do? I dug thirty-two paces from the castle walls on all sides save the west, for at that distance there was naught but a muddy stream. It might be thirty-two paces from the church, the cross, or what not. But I have a mind to make one more attempt ere I go to France. If that fails, then my right I'll sell to the first Jew that makes me an offer."

"Let me see if I can make aught of it," I said, carelessly stretching out my hand. To my delight Joyce handed it to me, and I saw the writing I knew so well.

For over an hour we talked, I, for my part, throwing out idle suggestions and listening to Joyce's explanations, trying at the same time to commit the apparently senseless words to memory.

Suddenly the door was flung open and the governor appeared. With a motion of his hand he signed for Joyce to withdraw, and the villain went out, leaving the precious doc.u.ment in my hands. Major Van der Wycke used to do the rounds in a somewhat erratic fashion, and for this once I thanked his eccentricity. When he went he desired the sergeant to accompany him, and for the time being I was at liberty to copy the mysterious message.

I had not quill nor crayon nor paper. I had read of men writing with their blood, but this method appeared very unsatisfactory. At length I bethought me of the fire, and taking a piece of charcoal I scrawled the words on the under side of my table. This I did, promising myself to ask for pens and paper at the first opportunity, and barely had I finished my task when the renegade reappeared.

"Where's that paper?" asked he. "I'll venture that your wits are no sharper than mine."

I handed it back to him with the remark that it conveyed nothing, and wished him all the luck he deserved. This double-barrelled compliment he took as favourable to himself, and after a short further conversation he left.

That night Joyce quitted Haarlem, and I was not fated to see him again for some time.

CHAPTER XVII.

--Showing that there are Two Means of Leaving a Prison.

With the lengthening days our hopes of effecting an escape increased. The vigilance of our guards had somewhat relaxed, and we were allowed to remain in one another's company for a much longer period.

Felgate and Greville discussed innumerable plans with me, but in every case a serious obstacle arose that necessitated the abandonment of that particular scheme, till one day the long-hoped-for opportunity arrived.

In the middle of the month of June--I had just celebrated my twentieth birthday in a very despondent style--Van der Wycke came to us one morning with a beaming face that showed that something very unusual had occurred to upset the stolidity of this typical Dutchman.

"Ah, Mynheer Drake," he said in his very broken English, "I must tell you ze goot news for us, but bad news for you. Our ships have broken all ze Englischman, Chatham is burnt, and ve vill even now take London." And in this style he told us the heartbreaking news of the never-to-be-forgotten disgrace at Chatham, of the burning or sinking of the Royal Oak, the James, the London, and several other smaller vessels. He also said that His Majesty and the Court and Parliament had removed to Bristol, though this latter information afterwards proved to be false.

For days we remained too sick at heart to attempt an escape; but early in the month of July we were informed that our prison was to be limewashed, and that for a few days at least we were to be kept in one room at the farther side of the building.

I had long before this secured a careful copy of the paper that Increase Joyce had shown me, and this I kept concealed on my person, so that in any case I should still retain what might subsequently prove a valuable piece of information.

Our new quarters overlooked the town walls, and, the windows being lower and larger than those of our former prison, we could easily observe what was going on.

The Hollanders were evidently making preparations to celebrate their victory, for garlands and decorated masts were being displayed. This served to increase our bitterness at heart, and, curiously enough, our guards became particularly lax in their duties. In fact, but for the purpose of supplying us with food, we were practically ignored.

We soon discovered that the bars of one of the windows could easily be wrenched from their fastenings, and with these removed only a ten-foot drop lay between us and freedom.

Carefully setting apart a portion of our rations, we soon secured enough food to last us for a couple of days, and one evening, directly the guards had visited us for the last time that night, Greville climbed on Felgate's shoulders and attacked the crumbling mortar that kept the bars in position.

In less than an hour we succeeded, by dint of plenty of hard work, in removing the bars, and all was ready for our flight.

The night was dark, the stars being constantly hidden by dense ma.s.ses of drifting clouds, while the wind howled mournfully amid the trees that lined the roadway within the ramparts.

The steady tramp of a sentry showed the necessity of extreme caution, and the clocks chimed ten ere the man was visited by the rounds. Half an hour later he left his post and disappeared--in all probability to enjoy a quiet sleep.

"Now is our time," whispered Drake, and squeezing his body through the aperture he dropped lightly upon the pavement. His example was quickly and cautiously followed, and in less time than we expected we were creeping along in the darkest shadows towards the open country.

Instinct took us towards the sea, from which blew a stinging, salt-laden breeze that caused a sensation of freedom, and when at length we gained the summit of the last rush-grown d.y.k.e, we could see the waves lashing the beach in so violent a manner as to make an attempt to escape by boat an absolute impossibility.

However, the hours of darkness were fleeting fast, so we pressed on along the sh.o.r.e, peering through the darkness to try and secure a safe shelter. Soon we came upon a small hamlet, of which every house was in darkness, though the occasional barking of dogs warned us that the place was to be avoided. A short distance beyond was a small haven, wherein we could see several boats of all sizes riding easily at anchor.

The wind had now veered more to the north-'ard, and with it a heavy rain came on. This decided us, and, trusting that the downpour would deaden the force of the wind, we launched a small boat and pulled off to a galliot of about twenty tons burthen.

We approached her cautiously, for fear that she might have someone sleeping on board. On coming alongside we fended off our frail c.o.c.kle sh.e.l.l, while Felgate climbed softly up her sides and gained the deck. She was open amidships, but had a cuddy for'ard and a small cabin under her p.o.o.p.

Felgate made his way aft, and we saw him disappear under the shadow of the p.o.o.p. A moment later and he reappeared, glided across the deck, and explored the cuddy. Everything appeared satisfactory, so we joined him, sending the dinghy adrift.

The galliot carried two masts, the after one only being set up. The foremast was housed in a tabernacle and lay on the deck. We manned a windla.s.s, and with a dismal creaking, that alarmed us mightily, the mast slowly rose to an upright position. Then it was an easy matter to spread the great tanned sail, and having slipped the cable we stood westwards towards England and freedom.

Once clear of the haven we felt the lift of the ocean as the vessel heeled to the breeze. Drake and I stood by the tiller, while Felgate went for'ard to keep a bright lookout.

There was no longer need for silence, and our tongues wagged merrily at the thought of our escape. The galliot was, like all Dutch craft, of great beam, with bluff bows and an ugly square stern. She would, we had little doubt, prove a good sea boat, but sluggish in a light wind. As it was, the steady breeze was just strong enough to make her lively, and it was with satisfaction that we saw the dim outline of the low-lying coast get fainter and fainter.

Suddenly a ma.s.sive post, crowned by a triangle, loomed out on our starboard bow.

"Steady there!" shouted Felgate; "there's a beacon ahead."

"Which side shall we make for?" asked Greville.

"Quick, Aubrey, try a cast!" said Felgate, and I picked up a heavy piece of metal which happened to be lying near, fastened a line to it, and threw it overboard. Less than three fathoms! Again I tried, and touched the bottom in little more than two.

"'Bout ship!" shouted Drake, bearing down on the long tiller, and the galliot, her sails flapping in the wind like the wings of a wounded bird, came about slowly yet surely, the breeze filled her sails as she lay on the other tack, and once more she slipped into deep water.

But the result of this manoeuvre was bewildering. The blackness that precedes the dawn is always greatest; the sh.o.r.e was invisible, and our sole guide as to direction was the wind, which we hoped still blew from the same quarter. All around were the short, steep, white-crested waves that are so typical of the shallow waters around the Dutch coasts, while our range of vision on all sides was limited to a s.p.a.ce of about a hundred yards of heaving water.

"Keep the lead going!" ordered Greville, and feverishly I made cast after cast with my rough-and-ready leadline.

For some time I found no bottom with four fathoms, which was the available length of the line, and I was on the point of giving up the task with a feeling that we were clear of the shallows, when I felt the sinker touch bottom.

The boat was once more put about and the lead kept going, but still the depth remained the same, or, rather, slightly shoaling. Again we tacked, but our efforts to find deeper water were unavailing, and at last the galliot ran aground with a slight shock on a bed of soft sand.

With a falling tide our position was hopeless, and when daylight dawned and objects became visible, we found to our dismay that we were within half a mile of the sh.o.r.e, and in full view of the hamlet from which we had taken the galliot. As we had been sailing for over two hours, we must have doubled backwards and forwards for want of keeping a proper course, our numerous tacks having completely bewildered us.

The inhabitants of the town of Haarlem were abroad early, and it was evident that our ignominious situation had come to their knowledge, for crowds lined the sh.o.r.e looking steadfastly in our direction.

At about six in the morning the tide had left us high and dry, and the boundless expanse of sandbanks showed us how hopeless was our task on a dark night. Thoroughly disheartened and ashamed, we withdrew to the cabin, where we awaited the arrival of the soldiers who were to take us back to captivity.

"Ah, goot-morning, Mynheer!" was the greeting of the governor, as he made his way across the sloping deck of the galliot, his usually grave visage puckered with a thousand wrinkles, while his eyes twinkled with grim humour.

"Take us and do whatever you will," replied Felgate savagely, "but for any sake taunt us not!"

Van der Wycke bowed in well-feigned gravity.

"Pardon, Mynheer," he replied, "but you yourselves haf put to much trouble for nothing. You are now free!"

And to our astonishment we learned how that peace had been proclaimed at Breda on the previous day, and that our futile attempt might well not have taken place.

Needless to say, our further stay in the Low Countries was hurried as quickly as possible, and next day a stout little brig conveyed us from Rotterdam to London. The joys of seeing our native land once more were somewhat damped by the pitiful sight of the blackened hulls of our men-of-war that had been sunk off the mouth of the Thames.

CHAPTER XVIII.

--The Veil is Partly Drawn.

Directly I set foot once more on English soil I hastened to Portsmouth, though on my journey thither I did stay a while at Rake, for the sake of old memories. On my arrival at Portsmouth I found my uncle looking careworn and haggard, due to the constant strain and worry that his duties in the dockyard entailed, for discontent amongst the workmen had almost grown into open mutiny. So ill paid were they that in some cases families were starving while work was plentiful.

As the 23rd day of April, 1668, drew near, that being my twenty-first birthday, I found that I was becoming more and more excited over the vague rumours that I had heard from time to time respecting the remarkable disclosures that were to be made under the terms of my father's will.

Nor was the excitement confined to myself. My uncle busied himself till all traces of his worry lost themselves in his activity; my aunt bustled about the house, driving the servants. .h.i.ther and thither, bringing linen from the huge oak chest, furbishing the ma.s.sive furniture, and causing a huge supply of viands to be prepared for the entertainment of our guests--for the invited company numbered close on a score, so that our house would be filled to overflowing, and rooms had to be engaged at "The Bell Inn" and "The Blue Posts".

On the Monday preceding the eventful day the guests began to arrive. There were Sir George Lee, greyer and more bent than of yore, Master Hugh Salesbury, Lawyer Whitehead, all from the neighbourhood of Rake; my old shipmates, Greville Drake and Felgate, the latter accompanied by his young wife, whom he had lately wedded, and several others who had been friends of my father long before I could remember.

My birthday eve they kept in high style, the men smoking long clay pipes, till our dining-room was enveloped in a cloud of tobacco smoke, so that my aunt declared that her best hangings would reek for days like a London coffee tavern, whereat Sir George pacified her by saying that the weed of Virginia is ever a sovereign safeguard against the plague!

My twenty-first birthday came at last, and at ten in the morning we all a.s.sembled in our largest room, where, after I had received the congratulations of my friends, the long-expected legal formality began.

I sat at the head of the long oak table, with Lawyer Whitehead on my right and Sir George on my left, the others being seated at the sides. Before the lawyer was placed a heavy bra.s.s-bound box, which, besides being locked, was fastened with a formidable-looking red seal.

With a solemn bow Master Whitehead stood up, and, clearing his throat with a professional cough, began in a dry, legal manner: "In accordance with the instruction laid down by my late client, Master Owen Wentworth, I have to make the announcement that his son, who this day attains his majority, can now take upon himself his rightful t.i.tle, Sir Aubrey Wentworth of Holwick, in the county of Yorks."

At this astounding information my senses became numb, and I could but dimly see the faces of my friends and hear the indistinct murmur of astonishment and congratulation from those of my guests who up to the present were not in the secret.

"The late Owen Wentworth, by reason of his excessive loyalty to His Majesty the King, and of his careful thought for the proper upbringing of his son during the past troublous times, did part with a portion of his family estates and personal property in order to furnish His Majesty with such aid as all loyal cavaliers were bound by their duty to give. The residue, which is no inconsiderable amount, he hid in a secure place, taking good care that it should come to his son on his attaining the age of twenty-one, provided that he showed great promise of filling his position in a right and proper manner. The recovery of the hidden treasure will depend on certain conditions imposed by Sir Owen (to give him his rightful t.i.tle), and these conditions were written and entrusted to my keeping." Here the lawyer tapped the box with his finger and proceeded to break the seal. This done, he produced a small key and unlocked the box. The hinges creaked as he threw back the lid and disclosed a number of parchments all neatly tied with faded ribbon.