A lonely night with cold, wet and hunger—John falls over a goat and is heartened—A friendly ship and rescue—John sails with Captain La Roche in the Britaine—Learns how to navigate a ship and handle big guns—La Roche cruises in search of adventure—Falls in with a Venetian argosy—The Venetian fires a shot and draws blood—A fierce fight in which the Britaine is finally victorious—John is landed in Piedmont with a fat purse—He journeys to Gratz and secures an introduction to the leaders in the Archduke’s army—Gives an exhibition of superb horsemanship and is appointed ensign in the regiment of Earl Meldritch.

Cold and hungry, wet and weary, John spent what seemed to him to be an endless night, pacing about to keep his blood in circulation. He dared not sleep, for that would be to court death, and so he could find no relief from his gloomy thoughts in the pitchy darkness. Here he was on an unoccupied island and here he might remain until starvation—but no, he would not believe that Dame Fortune, who had so often displayed a kindly disposition towards him, proposed to desert him in this extremity.

“My faith!” said John, speaking aloud to hearten himself, whilst he drew his waistband tighter. “If the good dame knows aught of the craving of my stomach she will surely hasten her ministrations. Would I had saved my shoes or e’en my swordbelt! Leather, though not o’er palatable I ween, will, so I have read, keep life in one’s body for a spell but one can scarce eat fustian.” Here John’s soliloquy was suddenly interrupted as he tripped over an object lying in his path. As he lay upon the ground he heard some animal scampering away in the darkness. “A goat!” said John, when he had recovered from his surprise. “Where there is one goat, there are two. And where there are two goats, there is a she-goat. And where there is a she-goat, there is milk. My lady,” he continued, rising and making a low bow, “your humble servant will do himself the honor of calling upon you as soon as decency and light permit.”

This incident cheered our hero as it relieved his mind of the chief anxiety that beset it. He had no wish to shirk the accidents and hardships of life; in fact, he rather enjoyed them, but the thought of death is naturally repugnant to a robust youth and especially to one full of ambition and love of action. He was always of a philosophic turn of mind, and as he reflected on the recent incident the significance of it caused him to smile.

“In the direst straits,” he thought, “the remedy is at our hand if we will but find it, though it be by falling over it. What babes we be! We cry though the pitcher but rock and we cry when the milk is spilt. Many a man dons mail when swaddling clothes would better befit him.”

With the first streak of dawn, John, now ravenously hungry, began to look around for the she-goat which he felt confident of finding with many companions on the islet. He had pursued this quest but a few minutes when his heart was delighted by the sight of a ship lying at anchor near this refuge. It had taken shelter behind the island from the storm of the day before and was now making preparations for departure, as John could see from where he stood. He hastened down to the water’s edge and shouted lustily. The wind was fortunately favorable and at length he attracted the attention of the people on board. A boat was lowered and our hero, with scarce strength enough to stand, soon found himself on the deck of a French merchantman. The master, perceiving his condition, had him taken below, where he was fed, dressed in dry clothes and left to sleep.

When John awoke, refreshed after a long rest, the vessel was scudding along under a brisk breeze and the setting sun proclaimed the close of another day. Our hero went on deck, blithe and eager for what new adventures the strange whirligig of life might have in store for him. The captain, after the fashion of seamen, extended a hearty greeting and invited John to sup with him. Over the meal the young Englishman told his story. At its conclusion, Captain La Roche, for such was his name, rose and shook his guest warmly by the hand.

“Fortune has thrown you in my way,” said the captain, with a genial smile. “I am from St. Malo and Count Ployer is my dear friend and patron. For his sake I would do much for you, if your story and bearing had not drawn me to yourself. You shall be put ashore this night if that be your wish, but it would please me greatly should you decide to continue on the voyage with me. I am bound for Alexandria and thereafter may seek some profitable adventure. In the space of a few months I shall land you somewhere in Italy—with a fat purse, and I mistake not. What say you?”

John had always felt a strong desire for the life of the sea, and in those days the complete soldier was more than half a sailor. The experience would be profitable and, in any case, the proposition seemed to hold out a better prospect of eventually reaching Hungary than by starting penniless to walk across the Continent. Besides, if the truth be told, John’s recent term of tramping had more than satisfied him with that mode of travel for awhile. He accepted Captain La Roche’s offer without hesitation.

La Roche was the owner, as well as the master, of his vessel, which he called the Britaine, in honor of his native province. It was a heavily armed ship of two hundred tons burden, carrying a crew of sixty men. Such a number were not of course needed to manage a ship of that size. The excuse for their presence was found in the prevalence of piracy but, as we shall see, their duties were not entirely of a defensive character. The truth of the matter is that La Roche, like many another reputable ship-captain of his time, was himself more than half a pirate. His vessel was a combination of merchantman and privateer with authority to attack the ships of nations at war with his country. The condition was very laxly observed, however, and might, more often than political considerations, governed in such matters. When the relations of the powers to one another were constantly changing and a voyage frequently occupied a year, a captain’s safest course was to treat every foreign sail as an enemy and either to attack it or to run from it. With a valuable cargo such as La Roche had on this occasion, the master of a vessel would generally try to make a peaceful voyage to the port of destination. If a similar cargo could not be secured for the return voyage, he would try to compensate himself for the failure by taking a prize.

The voyage to Alexandria was completed without incident of importance. John improved the opportunity to learn all that he could about seamanship and the handling of big guns. Before the vessel made port Captain La Roche pronounced his pupil a very creditable mariner and almost capable of sailing the ship himself. Having discharged his cargo, the captain proceeded to the Ionian Sea for the purpose, as he said, of learning “what ships were in the road,” or, in other words, to see if there was anything about upon which he could prey.

A few days had been spent in this quest, when a large Venetian argosy was sighted in the straits of Otranto. Now the Venetians, sinking all other considerations than those of greed and self-interest, had entered into a treaty with the Turks. In this fact Captain La Roche might have found sufficient excuse for attacking the richly laden ship, but a better was forthcoming. It was one of those great unwieldy craft in which the merchants of Venice sent cargoes of fabulous worth to all parts of the world. Its size was more than twice that of the Britaine and its armament at least equal to hers. The latter, however, had all the advantage in speed and ability to manoeuvre—a highly important quality, as the Spaniards had learnt a few years previously when their great Armada was destroyed by the comparatively small English ships.

The Venetian, seeing the Britaine lying in his path and realizing that he would have little chance in flight, endeavored to frighten the other off with a shot. As luck would have it, the ball took off the head of a seaman on the deck of the French vessel. This furnished La Roche with an ample pretext for attacking the argosy. Running across her bow, he raked her fore and aft, in passing, with his starboard guns. Putting about, he returned under her stern, but as the high poop afforded an effective bulwark, less damage was done by his fire. The Venetian’s mast and rigging were now too badly damaged to permit of her sailing and the Frenchman, who had so far escaped hurt, determined to board. He brought his vessel alongside the other and made fast with the grappling irons. The Venetian had a larger crew than her enemy and they repulsed the attack of the Frenchmen with determination. Twice the boarders succeeded in gaining the deck of the larger vessel and each time they were beaten back after a furious hand to hand combat. Captain La Roche, with John by his side, led the second of these assaults. They were the first on the deck, and shoulder to shoulder fought their way towards the poop where the commander of the argosy stood. They had almost reached the spot, when La Roche glancing back, saw that they were cut off from his men, who were retreating to their own vessel. To return was out of the question. The only hope lay in breaking through the men who stood between them and the farther side of the ship.

“It is overboard with us lad, if we would not be taken prisoners,” he cried. “Gare de lÀ! Gare de devant!”

The seamen fell back before the fierce charge of the two men whose swords whistled through the air in sweeping strokes. In less time than it takes to tell, they had reached the side and had plunged into the sea. Swimming round the stern of the Venetian, they came upon the Britaine, which had cast off and was preparing to sail away with the idea that the captain had been killed.

As soon as he regained the deck of his vessel, Captain La Roche ordered the guns to be reshotted. When this had been done he poured two broadsides into the argosy with such effect that she was on the verge of sinking. Once more the Frenchman ranged alongside and sent his boarders to the attack. This time they met with little resistance, for half the crew of the injured vessel were engaged in stopping the holes in her side. The fight had lasted for an hour and a half and when the Venetian surrendered, twenty of her men lay dead upon the deck and as many more were wounded. On his side Captain La Roche had lost fifteen of his crew and eight were incapacitated by sword cuts.

La Roche could not spare a prize crew to man the argosy even had he been willing to face the enquiry that must have followed taking her into port. Therefore he first secured his prisoners and then proceeded to transfer as much as possible of the cargo of the Venetian to his own ship. This task occupied twenty-four hours, and when the Britaine had been filled, there remained upon her prize at least as much as had been taken out of her. With this handsome remainder the Frenchman abandoned her and her crew to their fate, which was probably to be rifled by the very next ship that chanced along. The spoils consisted of silks, velvets, and other rich stuffs, jewels, works of art, and a considerable quantity of money. John’s share of the prize amounted to five hundred sequins and a box of jewels, in all worth about twenty-five hundred dollars—a much larger sum in those days than in these. Shortly after this affair Captain La Roche landed our hero in Piedmont, with “a fat purse” as he had promised.

John had now accomplished one more step in his project of engaging in the campaign against the Turks and was at last within easy distance of his goal. Had he been of a mercenary disposition his experience with Captain La Roche might have induced him to attach himself permanently to the person of that gallant sailor, but during all his life John Smith displayed a disregard for money, except in so far as it was necessary to the attainment of some important end. Therefore it was with no reluctance that he turned his back on the sea and set forward for Gratz where the Archduke maintained his headquarters. On the way he had the opportunity to see many Italian cities and passed through Rome, but he did not linger unnecessarily on the road.

At Gratz John had the good fortune to fall in with a countryman who enjoyed some acquaintance with the leaders in the Christian army. This gentleman presented the young adventurer to Lord Ebersberg, Baron Kissel, the Earl of Meldritch and other generals attached to the Imperial forces. These officers were attracted by the young man’s soldierly bearing and impressed by the persistent manner in which he had pursued his project and the pains he had been at to reach the seat of war. They were, however, very busy with preparations for the campaign and would likely enough have forgotten so humble an individual as John Smith but for a fortunate incident that, although trivial in itself, had an important influence upon our hero’s future career.

One day as he was passing by a large mansion on the outskirts of the city, John was attracted to a crowd which had gathered round two footmen who were with difficulty holding a plunging horse. It was a magnificent Barbary steed with coal black silky coat, but it was apparent at a glance that the animal had not been broken in, if, indeed, it had ever had a saddle upon its back. John had hardly reached the spot when the Earl of Meldritch and a companion came out of the house and approached. The Earl displayed annoyance when he saw the wild creature plunging and lashing out with its hind feet. He had, it appeared from his remarks, bought the beast without seeing it and was thoroughly disgusted with his bargain.

“It is a fit charger for Beelzebub, if, indeed, it be not the fiend incarnate,” he cried. “I would not trust myself upon the back of such a beast for all the wealth of the Indies.”

Hearing this John stepped up to the nobleman and said with a respectful salute:

“If it please your lordship, I should like well to try conclusions with yon animal.”

“You would ride it!” cried the Earl in amazement.

“With your lordship’s consent I would essay to do as much,” replied John.

Permission having been granted, a saddle was sent for. In the meantime our hero stroked the horse’s head as well as he could for its prancing, whilst he spoke to it in a low caressing tone of voice. The animal seemed to yield somewhat to the influence of this treatment, for it grew quieter, but the saddle was not put on without great difficulty. John sprang into the seat, at the same time ordering the grooms to let go. Immediately the horse began to act as though possessed. It stood upright upon its hind feet. It tried to stand upon its head. It leapt here and there. It spun around like a cockchafer on a pin. It darted forward and suddenly stopped. In short, it tried all the tricks with which a horse endeavors to throw its rider. But John had not learnt riding from one of the best horsemen in England for nothing. He sat his saddle easily through all the animal’s antics and when its fury began to abate he urged it forward at full speed and dashed over the neighboring plain and out of sight.

It was an hour later when John rode up to Earl Meldritch’s residence. The nobleman came out to meet him and was surprised to see that he managed the now-subdued steed without difficulty. He rode it back and forth, made it turn this way and that, start and stop at will, and, in fact, had it under almost perfect control. The Earl did not attempt to disguise his admiration. On the contrary, he then and there made our hero a present of the black charger and gave him an appointment as ensign in his own regiment of cavalry.

John was now attached to the Imperial army in an honorable capacity, and in the course of his duties he made the better acquaintance of some of the higher officers. This was the case in particular with Lord Ebersberg, who found that the young Englishman had made a study of those branches of tactics in which he himself was most interested. These two had many discussions and on one occasion John imparted to the general some ideas of signalling which he had gathered from the pages of Polybius. This particular conversation had an important bearing on the issue of a great battle at a later date.