CHAPTER XIII. THE CROSSED HEART.

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When two impetuous streams join and flow together, their course must needs be swift—whether to flow into the sweet and happy valley, or into the dark and horrid gulf. Thus while my uncle occupied himself in one matter, Lady Biddy busied herself in another, and both to the equipment of this new expedition; so that in an incredible short space of time all provision was achieved, and we were ready to set out.

First there were ships to be procured, and seamen to serve them. For better choice, Sir Bartlemy journeyed over to Portsmouth, taking me with him, and a well-stuffed purse, together with a dozen lusty servants for our safe escort through those lawless and dangerous parts which lay betwixt Truro and Exeter, where no man rides safe.

Being come without mishap to Portsmouth, Sir Bartlemy went to an old acquaintance of his, a broker and a very honest man, and with him we went and examined all those ships that were to sell, choosing in the end two that were after his heart; excellent fair ships too, sound and swift, that had sailed the seas, one two years and the other four; for Sir Bartlemy would have no new ships, but only such as had stood the test of tempest, and were fully seasoned.

While this was a-doing I made a discovery which gave me no little concern. The broker would have us look at a French ship, albeit Sir Bartlemy declared he would trust himself in no timbers that had not grown in England; however, to humor him, we went to the side of the harbor where she lay. But at the first sight of her my uncle turned up his nose, and began to find a hundred faults, finally declaring that nothing good ever came out of France save her wines, and that it would be time better spent to drink a pint of Bordeaux than to go further with the examination of such a cursed piece of shipbuilding. With that he invited the broker to crack a bottle in an adjacent tavern, which they did without further ado. But something in the look of this ship arousing my curiosity, I feigned to have no liking for wine, and getting the broker's leave to visit the ship, I hired a wherry and was carried to her.

La Belle Esperance was her name, and she was painted quite fresh in very lively colors, after the sort of French ships; but for all that when I got on board my suspicions were stronger than ever; for the make of the ship (being little altered) was, as I may say, familiar to me. And straight I went into the coach, and so to the little cabin on the larboard side, and there on a certain timber I sought and found this mark, cut deep in the wood:

Then I knew beyond doubt that this ship, despite its new name and fresh paint, was none other than the Sure Hawk. For this crossed heart was my cipher (making the letters B. P. after a fashion if looked at sidelong) which I had engraved with my own hand and of my own invention.

I needed no further proof, but, being greatly troubled, went straightway ashore. And there finding occasion to speak privately with the broker, I questioned him concerning this ship: how long she had lain at Portsmouth, etc.

"Why, sir," says he, very civilly, "she has been here three weeks, and no more. To tell you the truth, she was a French pirate, though I said nothing of that matter to Sir Bartlemy to add to his prejudice. But she is a good ship, and was taken by some honest Englishmen trading in spices."

"And what was the name of their ship who took this?" I asked.

"That I cannot tell you," he replies, "for their ship was so disabled in the fight that they had to abandon her and come home in this."

"Do you know these men or their captain?"

"No, sir, for they were of Hull; but I believe the captain's name was Adams, for I heard of him yesterday."

"In what respect?"

"It was in this wise. He bought a new ship of a brother broker here—the French vessel being not to his taste, nor big enough for his purpose—and sailed it hence to fit out and victual at Hull, where his crew would fain see their friends; and to Hull we thought he had gone. But my friend having necessity to go to St. Ives, in Cornwall, did there see this very ship, and Captain Adams with his men ashore, all drunk as any fiddlers; which amazed him, so that he spoke of it as a thing not to be understood."

But I understood this well enough, and therefore I laid the whole matter before my uncle, and would have had him go with me to St. Ives, where I doubted not but we should find Captain Adams to be Rodrigues, and so lay him and his rascally crew by the heels, besides seizing his ship for our redress.

But my uncle would not agree to this.

"For," says he, "in the first place, it is a tedious business to stir the Admiralty to our profit, and in that time this Rodrigues—curse his bones!—may get wind of our intent and slip through our fingers; and, secondly, I hold it best not to stir up a sleeping dog, but to get on while one is safe. Added to which, every moment's delay is as much as a year of suffering to Harry."

To this I could make no objection, so I agreed to keep what I knew secret. But I perceived full well that my uncle, had he not openly expressed to his friend such contempt for the French ship (as he thought her) would have let Sir Harry wait until he had proved her to be the Sure Hawk and brought Rodrigues to justice, for he was very revengeful when roused, and full of hatred for the man who cheated him; but because he feared ridicule—having condemned that for worthless which but twelve months before he had bought for the best ship ever built—he would do nothing. For which weakness, God knows, he was fully punished in the end.

Our business being brought to an end at Portsmouth, we sailed our new ships into Falmouth Haven; and their names were the Sea Lion and the Faithful Friend. And here were piles of merchandise waiting to be shipped, for Lady Biddy Fane had faithfully bought and prepared every sort of thing in just proportion as before our going Sir Bartlemy had set down an inventory; and none but a capable woman of stout purpose and strong heart could have done so much.

To work went all to get this store aboard—the very house servants being pressed into service (such as they could compass), under the direction of Lady Biddy; yet could not all be done in a day, nor much less than three weeks, and no time lost.

All this time my mind was exceedingly uneasy, less Rodrigues should hear of our expedition, and seek to do us harm. And with this dread I made inquiries (privately) if during my absence any one had called to see me, and I found no one had asked for me. Then I felt sure that Rodrigues or Parsons and his men were at Penzance, and none others but they. For otherwise to a certainty the wives and sweethearts of those men drawn from Penny-come-quick and Truro to our first venture, hearing as they must of my return, would have sought me for tidings of them. And if they were in communication with those men, then must our enemies know that I had come back, and that another expedition was fitting out. I knew the nature of Rodrigues—subtile and daring wretch!—merciless in the pursuit of plunder, and bloody as those beasts of prey which will kill, though they be too surfeited to eat, their quarry.

At length all was ready for our departure. Lady Biddy having paid off all her servants (save a good wench whom she took with her) sent her plate and treasures to a silver-smith in Exeter; and so, to cut this matter short, put her estate in the hands of a trusty steward, and bade farewell to her friends. We all got on board: my uncle and Lady Biddy in the Faithful Friend, which was the larger and better ship of the two, and I in the Sea Lion. For though Sir Bartlemy would have had me with him, and Lady Biddy said nothing to discourage me therefrom, yet did I feel that it would be better that I should not see her, fearing her beauty might stir up the passion in my breast, and lead me again into evil thoughts.

It was arranged that the breeze proving prosperous the next morning we should depart at break of day; and license was given to the crew to make merry on board till ten o'clock, that they might start with a cheerful heart.

Now while the men were rejoicing after the fashion of mariners, there comes a wherry alongside with a woman in it; and this woman cries out to know if Jack Stone is aboard that ship or the Faithful Friend. There was no man of our crew with that name; but this woman being comely and buxom, with a merry face, the men did pretend that Jack Stone was aboard, but too drunk to stir; and with that they asked her to come up and give him a kiss for farewell.

"Why," says she, coming up the side without more ado, "do you start so soon? Jack told me yesterday you did not set out for a week."

"We sail at daybreak, sweetheart," says the gunner, taking her about the waist.

And this was what she had come to learn, as I feel convinced; for as soon as she had heard as much as was to be pumped out of these fuddled fellows, she left them, and was rowed ashore, never having again asked after the man she called Jack Stone.

The purser being a sober man, I asked him if he knew the woman, and he told me he knew her well for a Penzance woman.

"Then," thinks I, "Rodrigues has brought his ship round to be near us, and he has sent this woman for a spy. From Penzance she has come on this mission, and to Penzance she has returned; and so God help us."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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