Part 12

He then took up his place in the Queen's Guard, but had accomplished scarce four months in the royal service when that adventure befell which follows next in order. It was known that King Philip was making ready a fleet of sixty sail to invade Ireland, and Sir Walter Raleigh was instant that the Queen's ministers should destroy that fleet in Spanish waters, saying that "expedition in a little is better than much too late." At that time the Spaniards were rejoicing in that Hawkins and Drake had come to grief in their enterprise against Panama, and were dead of a broken heart. Sir Walter's counsel was deemed good, and the Queen, enraged with the King of Spain for that he was abetting the Irish rebel Tyrone, fitted out ninety-six sail to convey 14,000 Englishmen to the harbour of Cadiz, setting over them Lord Admiral Howard and the Earl of Essex, and granting to Raleigh the command of twenty-two ships. Contrary winds delayed their setting forth, the which, as Sir Walter affirmed, caused him deeper grief than he ever felt for anything of this world. And Providence so fashioned it that my grandfather performed a hardy feat in Cadiz harbour a good month before Sir Walter set sail, as you shall now read.

*THE FOURTH PART*

*CHRISTOPHER RUDD'S ADVENTURE IN SPAIN, AND THE FASHION IN WHICH HE PLAYED THE PART OF A PHYSICIAN*

*I*

It has never been my lot to hold great place, whether in the employment of Queen Bess, or of her successor, King James; and when I think how sorely fortune hath buffeted some noble persons that served those monarchs, I count myself lucky in my obscurity.

Of all the noble men with whom I ever had to do, Sir Walter Raleigh was in my computation beyond compare the noblest. It frets me still, after forty years, that I was not of his company on that famous voyage to Cadiz when, as he writes in his History, "we stayed not to pick any lock, but brake open the doors, and, having rifled all, threw the key into the fire"; by the which figure he signifies the capture and destruction of that great town, with vast spoils both of merchandise and money. I was stayed but by accident, or, more truly, by the hand of God, who had other work for me, as you shall hear.

It chanced that one day, about Easter of the year 1596, I had been to visit Sir Walter in his house at Mile End, where he then lived to take the country air, and because, being out of favour with the Queen, his lodging in her great house by the Thames was not much to his liking. In name he was still Captain of the Guard and Warden of the Stannaries, but the former office was performed by one Master John Best, and the latter was, I think, in abeyance. He had but lately returned from his voyage to Guiana, and was even then occupied with the writing of the book wherein he relates his doings there, together with certain wonders that I must hold to be fables. It is clean against nature that men should have eyes in their shoulders and mouths in their breasts.

I had visited him, I say, and sat talking very late, finding him wrapt up in his project against Cadiz, where a Spanish fleet was fitting out with the intent to invade Ireland. It was understood, when I left him, that I should be one of his company in the _Warspright_, provided I could obtain leave from the Queen to quit my place in the royal Guard for a season. I rode back to Westminster, and, having stabled my horse, was proceeding on foot to my lodging, in a little mean street by the river, when it seemed to me on a sudden that I heard footsteps, as of one dogging me. It was very late, as I said; all honest folks (myself excepted) were abed; and having a modest love of myself, I halted and whipped out my sword, peering into the darkness, and stretching my ears for the sound that had brought me to a check. But all was silent as the grave, and I laughed a little when it came into my mind that peradventure 'twas no more than the echo of my own footsteps. Whereupon I put up my sword and went on, my thoughts being busy with the matters of Sir Walter's glowing discourse.

While I was thus rapt away, building, I doubt not, fantastical castles in Spain, on a sudden I was set upon by a hulking fellow that threw himself upon me out of a dark alley-way. The first warning I had of him was a sharp crack as the bludgeon he aimed at me struck a shop-sign that hung low over the street; but for this, without question I had suffered a broken skull. Even so I lacked time to draw sword or dagger, for the man flung aside his club and sprang upon me, grappling me to himself with a grip of iron. For a moment I yielded, out of policy, to his embrace, being careful, nathless, to maintain my footing; then, being very well practised in wrestling, and having good command of my breath, I dipt my arms about his middle and, with an ease that amazed me, gave him the backfall. Down he went upon the cobbles, and I stood over him while he lay and groaned.

At this hour of the night it were vain to look for any help from the watch, and I was in the mind to leave the fellow where he lay. Yet having a certain curiosity to see what manner of man he was, I felt in my fob for the steel and flint I was wont to carry, and when I found them not, only then remembered that I had left them on Sir Walter's table; he had borrowed them of me to light his pipe of tobacco, the which was a wondrous strange thing in those days. (That is Sir Walter's pipe, yonder in my cabinet; he gave it me for a keepsake a little while ere he died.) Having no light at command I resolved to bring the man to my own door, but a few steps distant; wherefore I stooped and hoisted him to his feet, and then took him by the collar with one hand, and with the other held my naked sword to his posteriors, and so marched him before me up the street. When we came to my door, and my servant opened to my knock, I thrust the man in front of me so that he stood within the light of the lamp.

He was a sorry knave, now that I beheld him clearly: a very ragged Robin, as foul in person as ever I saw. But I understood now the reason why I had so easily thrown him, for his countenance, so much of it as I could discern through a thick and tangled beard, was wan and sunken; his eyes shone with that glitter which bespeaks famine or fever; and his body, goodly in its proportions, was bent and shrunken together. In good sooth I had no cause to be vain of my prowess, and when the fellow turned his burning eyes upon me, regarding me sullenly, yet with no touch of fear, I was seized with compassion, and bade my servant go fetch meat and drink. He went about my bidding sluggishly, halting ever and anon to cast a backward glance, as though doubting the policy of playing good Samaritan to so uncouth and villainous an oaf. While he was absent I told the man that since he would surely be hanged for his attempt upon me, 'twere well he should eat and so fortify himself against his destiny. What I said in jest he took in earnest; but whether it be true or not, as I have heard tell, that with the hangman's noose dangling before him a criminal has no relish for food, certainly this man fell with very keen tooth upon my viands, and cleaned the platter with marvellous celerity.

Having dispatched my servant to bed, I sat me on the table and questioned the man, why he had waylaid me. He was loth to speak, but by little and little I drew from him his history, which he related not as one seeking to move pity, but by way of recompense, so it seemed to me, for the hospitality he had received. With his first words I own my heart warmed to him, for his speech smacked of my own country in the west, though intermixed with many quaint outlandish terms. His story I will relate in brief.

His name was William Stubbs, and he was born at Winterbourne Abbas, not a great way from my own birthplace. He had gone young to sea, and made several voyages with Master Cavendish, having indeed served as boatswain in the _Desire_ with that worthy seaman and commander. He had roved the Spanish Main, and I proved his veracity in that particular by putting to him sundry questions begotten of my own knowledge. 'Twas plain that he had the common fault of seamen, spending his gains more quickly then he earned them, roistering it on shore while his money lasted, and when all was spent going to sea again in quest of more. But I perceived as he proceeded in his discourse that he was better than most in natural wit, and had made more profit of his adventures, in knowledge if not in pelf. He had a passable facility in both the French and the Spanish tongues, and his head was stuffed with a great quantity of curious information, which made me wonder that he had sunk so low as to become a common footpad.

The reason of that I learnt in order. Being on board the _Revenge_ in that unlucky voyage of Sir Richard Grenville, he fell with many of his comrades into the hands of the Spaniards, who dealt with him very scurvily, as their custom is, and finally condemned him to the galleys. For three long years he was chained to an oar, and suffered all the miseries of unhappy prisoners in the like case. But it befell one day that the galley wherein he rowed fell foul of a Dutch vessel, which opened upon it with valorous broadsides, and after making havoc as well among the slaves as the crew, finally rammed it with great vehemency and stove a hole in its side. In the hottest of the fight, a round shot broke the chain that held Stubbs to his oar, and, seizing the moment when the Dutchman rammed and all was confusion, he leapt overboard and swam to that vessel, whose side he clambered up by the main chains. He came very near perishing at the hands of the crew, who at first supposed him to be a rascal; but when they learnt his true condition, they hauled him aboard with comfortable words, and brought him after many days to their own country. Thence he contrived to reach London, only to fall on evil hap, for his sufferings in captivity had sapped his strength, and, when he sought employment in his own trade he found no master mariner willing to accept him. Thus, reduced by sickness and famine, in his desperate strait he bethought him of conquering fortune on the highway, but was now ready to believe, seeing the unhappy issue of his first essay in that line of life, that he was at odds with Fate, and must needs, as he said, "kick the beam and ha' done with it."

When I heard this piteous story, and saw upon the man's neck and wrists the scars that were full proof, to all that knew the Spaniards, of his having rowed in their galleys, my anger against him was wholly quenched. I told him heartily that he should not hang for me, and then, perceiving that my good food had wrought upon his sickly frame, I bade him get himself into a closet wherein my servant kept my boots and sleep there for the night, promising to see him again in the morning, and perchance do somewhat to set him on his feet. The man was clean staggered by this kindness, as I could plainly see; but he did not thank me; and when he had crept into the closet and flung himself down heedless upon the floor, I turned the key in the lock for security's sake and went to my bed.

My servant was in a pretty fret and fume when he found the man there asleep in the morning, and eyed me with a disfavour that made me feel guilty towards him: a good servant hath in him something of the tyrant. When I bade him give my guest water for washing (whereof he was in great need), and meat and beer, his silence was a clear rebuke. But when he came again after doing my bidding he had somewhat to tell me.

"The rogue asked me your name, sir," quoth he, "and when I told him, he asked further whether you were akin to one Master Christopher Rudd of Shirley."

"And what said you?" I asked, knowing my servant.

"I said, sir, that he were best wash himself."

"A proper answer," said I, laughing. "When he has eaten, bring him to me."

And when the man came before me, cleaned of his foulness and with his beard trimmed, I saw that he was a goodly fellow, and felt the more sorry for him.

"You asked of one Master Christopher Rudd of Shirley," I said; "what have you to do with him?"

"Are you his kin, sir?" he asked doubtfully.

"We are of one family," I said, "and now you will answer my question."

And then he told me a story that filled me with as much trouble as amazement. Chained to him, on his galley, had been a young Frenchman, whom, even before their common misery had made them friends, he had surmised to be a man of rank. When they had learnt to trust each other, the Frenchman and he often talked together of the chances of escape, and each promised the other that, should fortune favour him, he would use his endeavours for behoof of him that was left. Stubbs said that, for his part, he feared he could do little, being an Englishman; whereupon the Frenchman told him that he had sundry good friends among the English, notably Christopher Rudd, of whom indeed he had been a close comrade in the service of King Henry of Navarre.

At this I pricked up my ears, and inquired eagerly for the Frenchman's name. Thereupon Stubbs rolled up his sleeves, and showed me, branded upon his arm, the letters "R. de T.," confessing that he had forgot the name, which indeed did not come easily to his tongue. I needed no more, but knew instantly that the luckless galley-slave could be none other than Raoul de Torcy, who had been my boon fellow when I was in France, and my companion that time when I had the good hap to win King Henry's favour. I bade Stubbs describe with circumstance the look and character of the Frenchman, and though he was unapt at such a task, his uncouth phrases gave me the assurance I sought, and I could have no manner of doubt that the man now swinking and sweating in one of the worst tortures ever devised by the wit of man was indeed my dear friend.

I taxed Stubbs narrowly, to discover by what mishap Raoul, a gentleman of France, had fallen to so pitiful an extremity, but on this point it appeared that Raoul himself was at a loss. He had been kidnapped one day in Calais, cast on board a vessel, and carried to Cadiz: who were his captors, and what moved them to it, were matters hidden from him.

Cadiz being the place of Raoul's exile, I instantly bethought me of my talk overnight with Sir Walter Raleigh, and saw in his projected enterprise a means of wresting my friend from his bondage. Accordingly I sent my servant for my horse, purposing to ride again to Mile End and acquaint Sir Walter with what I had heard. I gave money to Stubbs wherewith to buy new raiment, bidding him return to my house and await me, and above all to avoid any debate with my servant, the which might easily end in broken heads.

I found Sir Walter in his garden, smoking a pipe of tobacco, and setting potatoes, the new root that he had brought from the Indies, in the earth in the manner they call dibbling. He heard me attentively, and let out a round oath or two, and said that assuredly I might make the enlargement of my friend my personal charge in the adventure.

"But you must know, Rudd," he said, "that the project is as yet a secret, and indeed there is no surety that the Queen will give consent thereto. Her Grace frowns on me most malevolently, and there are many hindrances to surmount ere I come by her august approval. Were it not better to ransom your friend? I doubt not he hath kinsmen that are ignorant of his plight, and would bestir themselves did they but know it."

I answered him that Raoul had spoken to me of an uncle, but as to ransom, Raoul himself must have thought thereon. Without doubt he would have acquainted the Spaniards with his rank, and their cupidity would not have refused to bargain for his enlargement, unless, peradventure, they had weightier reasons for holding him a prisoner. To this Sir Walter assented, and confessed that he saw nothing for it but to wait until the Queen's pleasure in the matter of the intended voyage was known, and with that I had to be content.

I returned to my lodging, sore downcast and perplexed. Stubbs was already there, new clothed in decent garments, and very personable. I fell a-talking to him, and in the midst a thought came suddenly to me. I knew the strange waywardness of the Queen, how she would one moment consent, the next deny her words with hearty swearing; it might be months, or even years, before Sir Walter had his way. It troubled me sorely to think that Raoul should endure his wretched lot while her Highness played see-saw, and I bethought me that I might at least voyage to France and see the kinsmen who were, I doubted not, mourning Raoul's disappearance, and might perchance devise with them some plan for his deliverance. And since the testimony of an eye-witness is ever more effectual than report at second-hand, I resolved to take my mariner with me, so as they might have from his own lips the tale he told me. I forbore to ask consent of the Queen to my absence, being resolved to hazard my place rather than my design.

We set off next day, riding to Dover, where we embarked upon a packet-boat, and so came, after much tossing and discomfort, to Calais. This being the port where Raoul had been kidnapped three years before, as Stubbs told me, I made discreet inquiry among the harbour people whether they knew aught of that villainy, being careful to name no names. But none had any knowledge of the matter, whereupon we rode on at once to Dieppe, both because that was the nearest port to Raoul's chateau, and because our common friend Jean Prevost dwelt there, whom I purposed to take into my confidence.

'Twas drawing towards evening when we came to the town and reined up at the door of the _Belle Etoile_, a hostelry that I knew very well. The host, honest Jacques Aicard, remembered me, though it was near seven years since he last saw me, and welcomed me very heartily. The goodman's face was rueful when he ushered me to a room.

"'Tis pity, monsieur," he said, "that I have no better chamber to offer, but my best room is bespoke. But if monsieur will be content with this for a night or two, be sure that he shall have the best when my other visitor departs."

I assured him that the room would do very well, since I did not purpose to make a long stay.

"Ah, monsieur," he said, "that is sad news. I would that I had more guests like monsieur," a piece of arrant flattery whereat I smiled. 'Tis true that honest Jacques loved an Englishman.

Having seen Stubbs also provided, I hastened forth, and by good luck found Jean Prevost at home. He likewise welcomed me with great heartiness, and, after our salutations, as he set wine before me, he opened upon the very matter which had brought me to him.

"Would that Raoul were with us!" he said. "How we three laughed! But I fear me we shall never see him more."

"He disappeared; that I know," said I. "Tell me how it befell."

"Why, three years ago he rode to Calais, with the intent to sail to the Low Countries, and use his sword against the Spaniards. We have never heard of him since. Whether he was wrecked, or fell in Flanders, we know not. He vanished utterly away."

"And what of his estate?" I asked.

"His uncle holds it, the Count de Sarney. You have heard Raoul speak of him. He was a Leaguer, and there was a coldness between them. Indeed, though their chateaux lie but five miles apart, they had no dealings one with the other for many years. But the breach was healed when Henry became king, and after that Raoul had disappeared none was so busy as the Count in seeking for him. He sent emissaries at his own charges to Flanders to inquire diligently in all likely quarters, and 'twas a full year before he entered upon his heritage. He lives at Torcy, much by himself, and we see little of him."

"Raoul lugs an oar in a galley at Cadiz," I said with a very quiet voice.

Jean leapt from his seat as though a wasp had stung him.

"A galley-slave! Impossible! Incredible!" he cried.

"Both credible and possible," I said, and then I told him all, as I have told you.

"Mon Dieu!" cried Jean, when I had made an end. "We must not wait while your Queen dallies. A ransom! I know a score of his friends who will give bonds for goodly sums----"

"Ay, truly," I said, interrupting him, "and the first of them should be his uncle and heir."

Jean stopped in his restless pacing of the floor, and looked at me very strangely.

"Why yes," he said, "his uncle, to be sure. But the Count is close-fisted; 'twas indeed a surprise to all the country-side when, after that he had entered into possession of Torcy--an estate of greater worth than his own--he showed himself a very niggard."

"Think you that he would refuse his mite in so good a cause?" I said.

Again Jean looked strangely at me, and for a while was silent. Then he said slowly--

"My friend, I ween we had best say nought to the Count de Sarney."

"Nevertheless, I go to him to-morrow," I replied. "Miser he may be, and 'tis clean against his interest, to be sure, to bring back the lawful owner of Torcy, and thereby dispossess himself. Yet if his duty be put to him, as I shall put it, I doubt not he will comply."

"I will go with you," said Jean.

"Nay, I am minded to go alone, or rather with none but my mariner. 'Twill be better so. Be assured I will acquaint you with the issue. And I beg you, Jean," I said earnestly, "that you speak no word of what I have told you, at least for this present time."

"I will be mute as a fish," said he, "but I shall think the more."

*II*

On the morrow, early in the morning, we saddled our horses, Stubbs and I, a thing we always performed ourselves, Stubbs somewhat fumblingly, I own, until practice gave him deftness and ease. 'Twas thirty miles to Torcy, that lay southerly from Dieppe, but we made such good speed that the sun was not yet in the zenith when we arrived at the chateau. The Count was within doors, said the lackey that opened the great gate of the park to us, and we rode up the avenue of chestnuts, just bourgeoning into leaf, and came after some three furlongs to the house.

The man that admitted me, an ancient retainer of Raoul's whom I knew very well, changed hue when he saw me, and asked me with trembling voice whether I had brought news of his master. I did not give him a direct answer, but bade him lead me at once to the Count, feeling not a little pleasure that the new lord still kept the old man in his service. He conducted me through the passages that I had last trod with Raoul himself, and brought me into the little chamber wherein I had passed many a merry evening with my friend. Stubbs meanwhile remained in the outer porch, ready to follow me at my summons.

I waited some while before the Count entered. He was a man of mean stature, very lean and dry, and with a grave cast of countenance wherein I discerned no likeness to the jolly favour of his nephew.

"I have not the honour," he began courteously as I bowed to him, and dealt me a shrewd look.

"Assuredly not, monsieur," I replied. "My name is Christopher Rudd, and I was once comrade to your nephew, whose fate has given such deep trouble to his friends."

"Ah yes, my poor nephew! Methinks I recall your name, monsieur, if you are the same that fought with Raoul in the late contention, now so happily concluded. Be seated, monsieur; I am charmed to meet one that was his friend. You will honour me by taking a cup of wine?"