CHAPTER X.

A RAPIER AND A RIDING WHIP.

It was late in the afternoon when Timothy returned to Modbury, and when he had taken some food he made his way up the stairs to his young master's room. Gilbert was reading when he entered, but, at sight of Timothy, threw aside his book.

"Ah, thou'rt back!" cried Gilbert. "Well, what of the cut-purse gypsies, Tim? Didst see them?"

"Ay, full well did I see them," answered Timothy. "And Justice Oldfield hath dealt with them according to their deserts. They are men well beknown in the neighbourhood, Master Gilbert, and you must even yourself have ofttimes seen or heard of them. The elder of them, who is known as Red Bob, hath been in the lock-up once before for a like offence. His companion is a young seaman named Tom Lane. They both were armed with daggers. The third man who was with them in the stealing of the farm poultry, and who is supposed by many to have been the man whom you crossed swords with, is not yet arrested. Justice Oldfield tried to prove them guilty of the robbery of Jacob Hartop's wallet, but neither Jacob nor I could swear to their identity. There was naught to prove that they were the same men that we encountered, so they were charged with the poaching alone and escaped a hanging on the accusation of highway robbery, and they have been thrown into prison, where they are to remain for the space of six months."

"But surely there could be no possible mistake in supposing that they were the same men," remarked Gilbert. "I can well believe that it was not easy for you to recognize them, but the empty wallet was found near to the place where these fellows were caught, and there is certainly enough evidence in that fact alone to prove that the two crimes were committed by these same men!"

"So it might seem," returned Timothy; "but Hartop declared most positively that the men who attacked and robbed him in nowise resembled these poachers, and for my own part I was well-nigh as positive as he."

"And, prithee, by what token art thou so sure?" inquired Gilbert. Timothy did not answer immediately. He was considering within his own mind whether he should give expression to his suspicions against Jasper and Philip Oglander. These suspicions had grown even stronger since he had learned more of Jasper's evil character, but he still had no other foundation for them than Jacob Hartop's assertion regarding the footmarks in Beddington Lane, and he felt the injustice of making any accusation of a definite sort. At last he replied somewhat falteringly:

"It seemeth to me, in so far as I can recollect, that the men we encountered in the dingle wore large wide hats such as seamen wear, whereas Red Bob and Tom Lane had small, close-fitting caps. Furthermore, as thou'rt aware, Master Gilbert, the man who crossed rapiers with thee and wounded thee was a skilful swordsman--a more skilful than any rogue and vagabond about these parts is likely to be."

Gilbert shook his head doubtingly.

"There is no knowing," he said; "these rascals are acquainted with all manner of tricks and subterfuges. It doth not seem to me that 'tis in anywise likely that there were two separate and distinct companies of thieves at work in the one neighbourhood and at the same hour. Well do I believe that these rascals, Red Bob and Tom Lane, as you name them, were guilty of both the theft from the farmyard and the stealing of old Jacob Hartop's wallet, and that Justice Oldfield hath been over lenient." He paused a few minutes to take up some food from his plate that was near him. Then continuing, he said: "Hark you, Timothy. My grandfather hath been speaking with me touching this same Jacob Hartop, and it seemeth that the old mariner was the bearer of a most precious letter for Sir Walter Raleigh, containing news of the King of Spain's treasure-ships. The letter hath been carried off by these thieves, and 'tis necessary, nay, 'tis even of vital importance to England, that it should be recovered, lest it fall into the hands of any friend of Spain. Were I able to go about I should make it my business to search for it, but I am told that I must rest my sore foot for a day or two longer, and it were as well that thou shouldst undertake the matter in my stead."

Timothy had looked up sharply at mention of the missing letter. So this was the thing of value concerning which Jacob Hartop had said that rather than lose it he would willingly have sacrificed his own life! The information had given Tim an important clue. It had given him the new suggestion that the robbery had been arranged beforehand, and was no mere highwayman's attack upon a chance traveller, for it was now clear that the person who had stolen the letter from the old man must have known full well of its existence, and committed the robbery with the express purpose of gaining possession of it and thus intercepting its delivery into Sir Walter Raleigh's hands. Timothy arrived at this conclusion even before his young master had ceased speaking, and, taking into consideration Hartop's hint that Jasper was secretly a friend of Spain, he regarded it as well-nigh certain that Jasper was himself the thief, and was in all probability in present possession of the missing document. He did not dare as yet to reveal his suspicions to Gilbert, but he resolved to seek for still further evidence in support of them. When he should have gathered full and undeniable proof against Jasper it would then be time enough to expose his villainy. And with this resolve in his mind he silently quitted the room.

It chanced that as he passed down the wide staircase and into the back hall he caught sight of Philip Oglander's rapier hanging from a rack. He went to it, and after taking it down he drew it from its scabbard, finding that it was, as Jacob Hartop had said, of more than the ordinary length of blade. He was examining its sharp, slender point when he was startled by hearing a voice behind him.

"It seemeth that you discover something of interest about my rapier," said Philip Oglander.

Timothy turned round and said with confident coolness:

"I was but observing its great length, Master Philip. 'Tis a handsome weapon; but perchance you are not aware, sir, that in England 'tis unlawful to carry a rapier so long in the blade as this is."

Philip Oglander smiled, showing his beautiful white teeth.

"The same remark was made to me yesternight by one of my grandfather's guests," said he. "Sir Richard Grenville, I think it was. He, too, cautioned me against wearing it. I would have the blade shortened, therefore, if there be any man about the household who can do it. I will e'en leave the matter in your hands."

"Of a surety," agreed Timothy, wondering at the youth's courtesy towards him, "our blacksmith will clip it down to the lawful measurement. I will, if you so please, take it down to him in the early morning."

Now, Timothy Trollope had examined the rapier less with the intention of considering the length of the blade than with the object of discovering if by any chance there remained upon it any evidence of the weapon having been used in a recent encounter. If, as Jacob Hartop had confidently averred, it was Philip who had fought with and wounded Master Gilbert on the previous evening, then there was certainly a vague possibility of the weapon still bearing some slight trace of blood. But if Tim had expected to find any such stain he was disappointed, for he discovered the steel to be bright and clean from hilt to point.

Nevertheless, he continued for many days thereafter to keep a close watch upon the doings of both Jasper and Philip, in the expectation that by some carelessly-spoken word or unconsidered act either of them might betray himself, and reveal not only a knowledge of the missing letter but also perhaps his sympathy with the King of Spain. Timothy felt that in thus spying upon his master's relatives he was to some extent disloyal and dishonourable; but Hartop had awakened in his mind strange misgivings regarding them, and his only aim was to arrive at the truth. He had wished for help from Jacob Hartop in the matter, but the old man had shown a dread of remaining in a neighbourhood in which there was a danger of his encountering Jasper Oglander, and on the third day after his arrival in England he had set off on foot to the village of Polperro, where, as he had heard, a niece of his was at that time living, so that Timothy could not now consult with him.

On a certain afternoon some time thereafter Timothy and Gilbert, who had now recovered from his hurts, were crossing the market-place of Plymouth towards one of the side streets, when Timothy observed Sir Francis Drake standing at the doorway of a mercer's shop. Sir Francis, in spite of his long friendship with Lord Champernoun, had avoided Modbury Manor ever since the arrival there of Jasper Oglander, giving as his reason the excuse that he was extremely busy in the work of making new fortifications on St. Nicholas Island. His gaze now rested upon the figures of three men who stood at some thirty yards away from him. One of them was Jasper Oglander. His companions were Don Miguel Fernandes, the chief of the Spanish prisoners of war, and young Andrea de Ortega.

Timothy touched Gilbert's elbow.

"There stands your uncle, Master Gilbert," said he, "holding speech with our enemies of Spain."

"Ay," returned Gilbert, showing no surprise. "Haply he is giving the poor fellows some consolation in their affliction."

"'Tis such consolation as Sir Francis Drake doth not wholly approve of," said Timothy, "for look you, there he goes towards them to interrupt their conspiracies!"

Gilbert gave a light laugh.

"Conspiracies, forsooth!" said he. "Your mind doth ever run upon such fancies, Tim. Dost imagine that my uncle, even if he had a mind to conspire,--which is impossible in one of his upright and honourable nature,--would be so simple as to carry on such doubtful business in the public streets? Od's life, Tim, y'are even as suspicious as Christopher Pym, who approached me this morning with a long, woeful face and declared that he had come upon my aunt, Donna Lela, muttering Romish prayers over her beads and crossing herself like a veritable Papist! Christopher bade me go with him and bear eye-witness to his strange discovery, and I found the woman innocently engaged in unwinding a skein of silk that Pym had mistaken for a rosary, and crooning a quaint Portuguese love-song that he had taken for a paternoster! So I had the laugh of Christopher, as I now have of thee, Master Timothy, for mark you how Sir Francis is now passing your imagined conspirators, who are doubtless talking of no more serious subject than the price of bread!"

"Ay, but they have separated for all that," remarked Timothy, observing that Jasper Oglander at sight of Drake had bidden a hasty farewell to the two Spaniards. It was upon the point of Timothy's tongue to retort further by informing his young master of the conversation he had overheard some days before between Sir Francis and old Hartop concerning Jasper. But at that moment they were met at the street corner by a tall, broad-shouldered young gallant, by name Roland Grenville, who grasped Gilbert's hands very heartily and congratulated him on his so easy recovery from his late hurts.

"Tut! my hurts were scarce worth the mention," quoth Gilbert. "Prithee, speak of other matters, and tell me--hath Sir Richard yet returned from London?"

Sir Richard's stalwart son shook his head.

"Nay," he answered. "He hath scarce had time to get there as yet, nor do we expect him back for some weeks yet to come. He hath gone to the town of Rochester to see to the fitting out of the good ship _Revenge_, which is now lying in the river Medway. He is to bring her round to Plymouth when she is ready for sea. What her destination may thereafter be I know not, for 'tis held a secret; but wheresoever she may be bound for I do heartily rejoice to think that I am to have a berth aboard of her. 'Tis no small honour to be appointed to so renowned a ship. You, too, I hear, are to go out in her. So we shall be shipmates, eh?"

"Ay, that is indeed so," returned Gilbert with a proud smile, "for your father promised me the coveted opportunity, and charged me ere he went away to make ready against his return. You may be certain I am anxious for the time to come, for 'tis my first voyage, as you know. I am not like you, who have already heard the thunder of ships' guns in battle. Dost expect we shall have any fighting, Roland?"

"Fighting!" exclaimed Grenville. "Why, bless you, lad, there would be small use in our voyaging if there were not! I know that the ship is being fitted with brand-new guns of brass. Prithee, what should that bode but fighting? 'Twould go ill with us indeed if there were not a few Spanish galleons to give chase to in whatsoever seas we may sail. And I promise you the _Revenge_ will not be far behind when 'tis a question of fighting the Don and capturing his treasure-ships."

He moved to go, but paused to add: "Hast seen aught of Sir Francis Drake these few days past? I am told he is in marvellous dudgeon in that my father instead of himself hath got the command of the _Revenge_."

"His disappointment is but natural," returned Gilbert, "seeing that he hath fought so often and so well upon her decks. But I heard him remark only the last time that I spoke with him, that if there was one man other than himself to whom the Queen might fittingly entrust this her favourite warship, that man was your father--Sir Richard Grenville."

During the journey homeward on that afternoon Gilbert noticed that Timothy was unusually silent.

"Certes, but thou'rt passing gloomy this afternoon, Trollope," he said; "what ails thee, quotha?"

"I was but grieving at the near prospect of your quitting England, sir," answered Timothy, "and at your leaving me behind when I should be far happier, ay, and peradventure more useful, were I to accompany you. I would gladly give all that I have, or may have, in the world to be with you aboard the _Revenge_, though my duty were only the swabbing of the decks or the cleaning of the brass guns of which Master Grenville spake."

Gilbert looked at him with an amused smile.

"Why, lad," said he, "I had never dreamed that there was the spirit of a seaman in thee. But if it be that y'are set upon the voyage, 'twill be an easy matter for me to speak on your behalf to Sir Richard Grenville or some other of Her Majesty's generals. I'll bear't in mind, Tim."

And Timothy, hearing this, became in a moment light of heart. He exulted in this new possibility, and bore himself with as much pride and conscious dignity as if indeed he had already been appointed by Her Majesty's own personal warrant.

During the few following weeks of impatient waiting, Gilbert Oglander was occupied in making preparation for his expected departure, and also in paying farewell visits to certain of his friends and relatives in various parts of the country.

On one such visit, which was to Willoughby Grange, in the north part of Devon, he was accompanied by his uncle Jasper. They had been absent for two days, during which time Jasper Oglander made himself so extremely agreeable that Gilbert, already disposed in his favour, was at last so completely won over to him that he found something to love or to admire in all that he did and all that he said.

They were on their return journey, riding southward along the road towards Plymouth; their tired horses were ambling side by side. Jasper had been earnestly urging his nephew to make the best of his great opportunity in regard to the forthcoming voyage with Sir Richard Grenville; for although the intended destination of the _Revenge_ and her companion ships of the fleet was still held a close secret, yet Jasper did not doubt, as he said very plainly, that under the leadership of so able a general as Grenville there would be much honour to gain and great wealth to bring home.

"As for fighting," he said, "'tis impossible that you can fail to have many a brush with the Spaniards, and I know full well that when you enter into battle you will play no coward's part, for you are a true Oglander and will surely distinguish yourself as all our ancestors have done. Be bold, therefore. Be bold, my boy."

And thereupon he continued to speak of warfare, making it out that there was nothing to be afraid of in cannon-balls or boarding-pikes so long as a man kept his wits about him and dared to mix in the thickest of the fight. It would seem, indeed, that Jasper had almost a personal motive in urging his nephew thus earnestly, but of this Gilbert in his innocence guessed nothing.

"There is one matter as to which I would counsel thee, however," Jasper continued, "and that is that thou wouldst do well to reconsider thy intention of allowing that madcap youngster, Timothy Trollope, to bear thee company. I like not his too familiar bearing towards thee. He is no fitting companion for one of thy noble birth. I would not trust him."

Gilbert Oglander looked at his uncle in astonishment.

"I must confess I have never yet found Timothy Trollope to be aught else than a good and faithful servant," said he, "nor do I see any possible reason why he should not accompany me. He is the son of a very worthy tradesman in Plymouth, and I have ever known him to speak the truth and to act in all matters as beseemeth an honest youth."

"Speaks the truth!" cried Jasper, leaning forward on his saddle to adjust his horse's rein that had got twisted; "speaks the truth, say you? Body o' me! why, 'twas only two nights since that I caught him in one of the blackest of lies. Nay," he added, seeing the incredulity in Gilbert's face, "there is no need to dwell upon the matter. I will not repeat so base a slander."

"But 'tis only right that I should know it, uncle," pursued Gilbert. "If Trollope be indeed untruthful 'twere well that I should not be kept in ignorance. Prithee, tell me what the lie was that he told thee."

Jasper rode on in silence for several minutes as if in doubt.

"The lie was this," he said at last. "He declared that thy mother, the Lady Betty, was in her secret heart of the Romish Church, and that she was even now, unknown to my Lord Champernoun, carrying on a political intrigue with the King of Spain."

Gilbert reined in his horse and regarded his uncle for a moment in bewilderment.

"What?" he cried. "Dost tell me that Timothy said such things as that? Nay, I can scarce believe it. The scoundrel! the base ingrate! 'Tis a deliberate, scandalous falsehood!"

Jasper nodded and said: "Right glad I am to see that thou look'st upon the matter thus seriously, Gilbert. I only marvel how the knave could have dared to say such a thing in my hearing. But 'tis ever the way with these low-born and ill-bred louts. I'd have no more to do with him an I were thou. Let the dog go back to the gutter whence you took him."

Now, Gilbert was very sorely troubled and vexed about this matter. He could not believe that Timothy would stoop to the telling of a lie, much less to the utterance of a scandal. And yet, he asked himself, was not his uncle Jasper equally incapable of falsehood? Arguing with himself as he continued on the ride homeward, he scarce could come to any clear reason either way, nor indeed could he see the possibility of finally making up his mind until he should confront young Trollope and boldly accuse him of the lie.

It happened very opportunely that the very first person whom they met upon the road was Timothy himself. He came galloping towards them on one of Lord Champernoun's favourite hunting horses. Gilbert observed, as he approached nearer, that his face was radiant with some new joy.

"The ship hath arrived!" cried Timothy ere yet he was within the distance of a score yards. "The _Revenge_ hath entered into Plymouth harbour!" And then as he drew rein he noticed that Gilbert, instead of showing gladness, looked sorely troubled and annoyed.

"Your pardon, Master Gilbert," said he, "I see you are vexed that I should be riding upon his lordship's own horse. But indeed it was my lord himself who bade me do so."

"Nay, I am vexed at no such harmless matter as that," returned Gilbert gloomily.

"I had hoped that the news I brought you would afford you pleasure, sir," pursued Timothy.

"It might well have done so had it not been that I have heard other news which hath given me pain," quoth Gilbert. And, raising his voice in angry accusation, he added: "I hear that two days ago you told a vile lie about my mother--a lie which, were you even closer to me than you have hitherto been, I could never forgive."

Timothy winced under his young master's frown; but Gilbert went on mercilessly: "You had the baseness to declare that my mother is an idolatrous Papist, and that she hath been secretly in league with the King of Spain. How dare you utter such scandalous lies? How dare you, I say?"

For the moment Timothy imagined that his master was suddenly bereft of his senses.

"I deny that I did ever utter any such thoughts," he stammered, looking Gilbert full boldly in the face. "Nay, how were it possible that I should do so, knowing that there liveth not a more devout Protestant in all England than my lady, nor a more faithful subject of Queen Elizabeth? 'Tis a cruel falsehood, Master Gilbert, and methinks you might know me better than to accuse me thus upon a mere malicious report."

He glanced towards Jasper, who had brought his horse nearer to where his own and Gilbert's steeds stood restless at the roadside.

"'Tis not very hard for me to guess the source whence that report hath reached you," Timothy went on, his face growing pale in his indignation, and his white lips trembling. "I will warrant me that 'twas your virtuous uncle here who thus maligned me. But since he hath spoken falsely of me, I will now speak the truth regarding himself. You are deceived in him, Master Gilbert--vastly deceived. You think him a man of honour, but I tell you he is a traitor end a renegade."

Timothy broke off, disturbed by the look of evil menace that had come into Jasper's dark eyes which were now fixed upon him.

"Proceed," commanded Jasper, gripping the silver handle of his riding-whip. "Prithee, say your say, young man. But mark you, if you dare to say aught that is not true of me, by the Holy Rood, sirrah, I will thrash you within an inch of your life."

This swearing by the Romish emblem passed at the moment unnoticed by Gilbert, but it did not escape Timothy Trollope.

"I care as little for your threats as I do for your Papist oaths," the lad retorted, growing bolder. And then turning to Gilbert he continued: "So please you, sir, 'twas not the Lady Betty but Master Jasper himself whom I accused of being a Papist and of being secretly in league with the King of Spain."

"'Tis a lie!" cried Jasper furiously, wheeling his horse round so that he came within a few feet of Timothy. But Timothy was now roused, and he determined to speak his mind at all hazards.

"'Tis no lie!" he declared firmly as he watched the man's whip hand. "Both your wife and your son, as well as yourself, are sworn Papists, and you are yourself, as I well know, little better than a skulking spy of King Philip of Spain. If it be not as I say, then, prithee, what mean all your secret meetings and underhand plottings with the Spanish prisoners of war down in Plymouth town? Wherefore, also, I pray you, did you purloin Captain Marsden's letter from old Jacob Hartop?"

Jasper's face had grown white with suppressed indignation. His eyes flashed threateningly.

"Take that for an answer, thou base, lying scoundrel!" he cried savagely; and, leaning forward over his saddle, he dealt the lad a smart and vicious cut across his face with the riding-whip. Timothy was well-nigh blinded with the pain, and presently a drop of blood trickled down his cheek.

"Impertinent whelp!" continued Jasper, preparing to repeat the blow. But Timothy had backed his horse a few steps, and, instead of striking him, Jasper hurled the whip at his head. Timothy dexterously caught it in his hand and flung it some distance along the road, at the same time spurring his horse and galloping away. Gilbert watched him for a moment, and then called him back. But Timothy went on, very sad at heart, for he divined that his young master had lost faith in him.

And indeed it seemed that this was the case, for later on the same day, when Gilbert was at the kennels paying a visit to one of his favourite dogs, Timothy approached him.

"So please you, Master Gilbert--" began Tim in a tone of abject apology. But Gilbert looked at him in stern reproof, and interrupted him, saying:

"Look you, Trollope, I'll have no more of these malicious tales of yours. 'Tis no business of yours to act the spy upon my relatives, and I command you to do no more of it."

Timothy hung his head, hurt to the quick by the reproach.

"Must I then take it that you have lost all confidence in me, Master Gilbert?" he asked.

"Ay," returned Gilbert. "Much am I afraid that 'tis so indeed."

"Then, sir," said Timothy in an unsteady voice, "'twere surely best that I should leave you; for I cannot brook your displeasure, nor think of remaining in the service of a master who hath lost trust in my honour."

"E'en do as ye list," retorted Gilbert. And Timothy, taking the words for a dismissal, walked slowly away, well-nigh broken-hearted.

On the evening of the following day the news reached Modbury Manor that the Spanish prisoners of war, to the number of seven-and-twenty, had made their escape.