The Buccaneer - Part 50
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Part 50

Robin shuddered; his mother after a brief pause continued.

"Now, who think you, Robin--my child, Robin, who think you was the murdered man--and who think you was he who came last, and saw the murderers departing in peace--who? I will tell it, before my breath is for ever stopped: the one was Robert Cecil, and the other his father's son, the first-born of his own mother!"

"Oh G.o.d!" exclaimed Robin, adding in a muttering tone, "I see through it all, the hold that Dalton has over the wretched, wicked man! But could Dalton do this?"

"Did you say any thing of Dalton?" inquired Mother Hays, whose quickness of hearing appeared increased; "it was his ship that was off the coast, though I could not swear he was himself there. Such things, I have heard, were often done in those wild times, and it made a noise then, and Sir Robert seemed like one mad about his brother; though people did whisper, for they were set against one another to the knowledge of all, and of different parties. And in time the lands all fell to him; and the Parliament since, I heard, made out, that Sir Herbert, being a friend to the king, even if he were alive, shouldn't have his own, which was all made over to the present man. But, as sure as there is a G.o.d, so sure He is just! Is it not plain? Of all the fine boys his lady bore him, not one is left! And, as to the daughter, look, if she knew as much of Sir Willmott Burrell as I do, she'd make her night-posset with the mermaids before she'd wed him. Well, Robin, Sir Herbert had once a son--an only son, and, as his lady died in childbed, Sir Robert's wife had taken great delight in the boy, and brought him up with her own children; and a pretty boy it was, so fond of the sea! He would sit for an hour together on my knee, and always called me nurse, and used to play with you as if you were his equal, and call Mistress Cecil, that now is, his wife! Sweet lamb that he was! Robin, Robin, he went too; how, I never knew, but I guess: the murderer of the father thought he should be more safe if the boy was away, and he pretended grief, and his poor lady felt it. Now it is of that boy I would have spoken to Mistress Cecil, for my heart misgives me--"

Farther communication was interrupted by the entrance of Constantia's maid, who came to ascertain if the widow Hays were really dying.

"My lady has trouble enough of her own, the Lord knows; but she will leave watching by the bed-side of my poor distraught master, if she can render any aid."

"Robin, raise me up," exclaimed the dying woman, with a gesture of great impatience; "raise me up, Robin, and push the hair from my ears, that I may hear distinctly. Did you mean, young woman[,] that Sir Robert was distraught--mad?"

"Alack! yes," replied the girl; "mad, poor gentleman!"

"It is enough--enough--enough! I knew it would come in some shape; yet madness must be mercy to him!" Having so said, she sank back, while the serving wench stood in astonishment: and at length inquired, "What she meant?"

"She raves," was Robin's reply, drawing the girl out of the chamber: "give my humble duty to your lady, and tell her that the son of Mother Hays is with her, and that she lacks nothing the world can give her now." As the girl departed, Springall came to the door.

"Robin Hays! you must leave even your dying mother--something must be determined on. He is come! Listen to the guns at Sheerness, telling the island who has touched the soil on this side of the ferry."

Robin stood for a moment at the porch, and heard the booming of cannon heavily pa.s.sing through the air, traversing the low downs, and roaring from crag to crag, as if rejoicing in liberty; the ships that lay out at sea sent forth a reply, and in a moment their flags were waving in the wind.

Robin returned for a moment to his mother's room.

"Mother," he said, "for one hour I must leave you, but I will send some one to watch by your bed-side. Pray to G.o.d, a G.o.d of mercy, who has but lately opened my heart: pray to Him, and He will answer. I will be with you soon--a hundred lives may rest upon that hour!"

His mother appeared scarcely conscious of what he said, but with her finger pointed to the chest.

A new, but a most unwelcome light had broken in upon the mind of the unhappy Ranger. The father of his beloved Barbara he had long known to be a reckless and a daring man, with the stains of many crimes upon his soul; but he had now the terrible knowledge that the Buccaneer was a cold-blooded and hired a.s.sa.s.sin, who for gold, for there could have been no other temptation---- The thought was perfect agony, yet the Ranger resolved to face the man he at once loved and dreaded, and boldly charge him with the act his parent in her dying moments had communicated.

"It will all be known," he thought; "there can be no pardon for the murderer--no peace for Barbara--the sinless child of sin!"

CHAPTER IX.

Mainly they all att once about him laid, And sore beset on every side arownd, That nigh he breathless grew: yet nought dismaid He ever to them yielded foot of grownd.

SPENSER.

Robin followed Springall into the room he had so recently left, and stood at the entrance; fixing at the same time his eyes, which, it must be confessed, were of unrivalled brilliancy and blackness, upon the Buccaneer, he said--

"Captain, I would speak a few words with you in private, after which we will talk of the danger that surrounds us."

Dalton and Robin withdrew together, and remained alone for more than twenty minutes, during which Springall and three or four others of the crew, who had crowded, like crows into a rookery in dread of an approaching storm, debated upon and formed plans for the safety of their vessel.

"Were all hands aboard," said Springall, whose youth joyed in perpetual hope--"were we all aboard, I would undertake to pilot that vessel over and under or through any one or any number of ships between Sheerness and Chatham!"

"Through their hulks, do you mean?" inquired Jack Roupall, who had but just joined the party.

"I don't pretend to speak grammar or book-English, Jack," retorted the young sailor, "no more than yourself; but all who have ever sailed in the Fire-fly, as both you and I have done, know her quality, and that anything can be made of her: I tell you, every beam of her timbers has life in it--every spar is a spirit!"

"What sort of spirit?--Is it rum, brandy, or Hollands?" inquired Roupall, who could see no more value in the timbers of the Fire-fly than in those of any other ship that carried a good cargo. Springall's enthusiasm was wasted on him; but it was followed by a reply from the hot-headed lad that would have led to more than words, if another of the party had not interfered.

"For shame, Spring, to be so fiery! Sure you know of old, that Jack will have his joke, and means no harm. Besides, he's only a land-lubber, after all."

"Well, pepper away, brave boys! pepper away! I'll have my revenge on you all yet!" continued the trooper.

"You won't inform, will you?" exclaimed Springall, ever ready for a fray, pushing his beardless face close to the weather-beaten countenance of st.u.r.dy Roupall.

"Will you keep your face out of my mouth?" replied the man-mountain, stretching his jaws at the same time, and displaying a double row of the most enormous teeth, and a gulf which really looked as if it could contain the animated countenance of the young sailor, who, as easily moved to mirth as anger, burst into a merry laugh at the prospect before him.

"There, boy," said the Goliath, "take it easy, and talk reason about the ship, and talk the reason reasonably, and I'll join ye; but Spring has a dash o' poetry about him--I think it's called poetry:--verse-making and verse-thinking, that never did anything in the way of ship-building or ship-saving since the world was a world, that I know. Now look, lads; here's a man-a-war, a heavy, sluggish thing, whose guns could take no effect on the Fire-fly, because their shot would go right over her, and only anger the waters. Her long boats, to be sure, could do the business; but she has no more than two and the captain's gig a-board--as I heard this morning at Queenborough. The evening is closing, and neither of the other ships--whose slovenly rigging wants Blake's dressing--hae any guns a-board to signify."

"Ay," said another, "so much for our near neighbours: what say you to our farther ones, at t'other side the island--just at the entrance to the Mersey?"

"Say!" said Springall, "why, that they could be round in less than no time if they knew who's who."

"Which they do by this: what else would bring the steel caps, and the Devil himself amongst us? besides, there's others off the coast, as well as we. Do you think old red-nosed Noll would come here about a drop of blood--a little murder, that could be settled at the 'sizes? There's something brooding in another direction, that 'ill set his hot blood boiling: but as it's purely political, all honest men, who have the free-trade at heart, will keep clear of it. May be he's heard the report that black-browed Charlie's thinking of pushing on this way,--though I don't believe it; it's too good to be true: it would soon make us tune up 'Hey for Cavaliers!' and bring the old days back again."

"But let us," chimed in Springall--"let us keep clear of every thing of the sort till our ship's safe. Why, in half an hour they might split her spars as small as jack-straws!"

"Which they won't, I think; because, if they know who she is, they know her cargo's safe--where Noll himself can't get at it, unless he drags the cellars--and the stomachs too, by this time--of half his prayer-loving subjects along the Kent and Ess.e.x coast."

"Stuff, stuff! every enemy destroyed is a shade nearer safety," said Springall; "and Noll knows it."

"That's well said, Spring," replied Jack, winking on his companion; "and I'll tell you what's true, too, shall I?"

"Ay, ay."

"Young geese are the greatest cacklers."

"I'll tell you what," retorted the lad, drawing himself up with some dignity, and reddening to the eyes, "I may be but a boy; but have the goodness to remember, that every oak was a sapling, and every sapling an acorn. If men trample on the acorn, it will never grow to be the oak; for, little as it is, the spirit of the oak is in it.--D'ye read my riddle?"

A good-humoured burst of approbation followed Springall's speech, which was hushed by some one of the party saying,

"Here comes our Captain, and we can form no plan till he is present."

The door accordingly opened after the hand, applied at last to the latch, had evidently wandered over the panel, seeking the fastening which at first it could not discover, and making outside a noise resembling the scratching of a cat.

No race of beings so decidedly differ from every other in the world as sailors: no matter whether they belong to a king's ship, to a smuggler, or a merchantman. Though there may be shades among them, yet the grand distinction between men of the sea and men of the land endures,--it is impossible to confound them together. A seaman is ever so easily amused, so reckless of consequences, so cheerful amid difficulties, so patient under privations. His blue jacket is a symbol of enterprise and good humour. Even his nondescript hat--black, small, and shining as a j.a.panned b.u.t.ton, adhering to the back of his head by a kind of supernatural agency, with which landsmen are unacquainted--can never be seen by a true-born Englishman without feelings of grat.i.tude and affection, which, at all events, no other hat in the world can command.

Although the crew of the Fire-fly would have been looked upon by your genuine seaman as a set of half-castes, which they really were, yet they had, if possible, more recklessness of character than ever belonged to any number of persons so congregated together; they had so often jested at, and with death, in all its shapes, that it was little more than pastime; and they had in their own persons experienced so many hairbreadth 'scapes that they looked upon Springall's great and very natural anxiety for the fate of the ship he loved, as a species of madness which a little experience would soon cure him of. The elder ones certainly knew that there was little use in their forming plans or projects, as their commander would as usual adopt his own, and adhere to them without their council or approval. It must be confessed that lately they regarded his lying so constantly off so exposed a coast, a proof of want of energy and forethought they had never noticed before; but his prompt punishment of Jeromio had set his character again on a firm footing; for, as Roupall said; "It proved that the Captain was still himself."

When the door of the room in which they were a.s.sembled was opened, instead of the Skipper, the long, lanky figure of the Reverend Jonas Fleetword presented itself in the opening; his coat and hose unbrushed, his pinnacle hat standing at its highest, and his basket-hilted sword dangling from the belt carelessly and rudely fastened.

Those of the men who had been sitting, stood up, while others rushed forward. Some laid their hands upon his shoulders, and all demanded whence he came, and what he wanted.