Sir Ludar Part 43

It seemed he would stay all day; and presently he sent me a message to a stationer on Ludgate Hill, which I must needs take, and so leave him and Ludar alone in the house.

While out, I got a great fright. For the watch were abroad in search of the notable villain who had late escaped from her Majesty's Tower, and who was reported to have been seen lurking in the disguise of a carter, not many days since, near Newgate. And it was said, I heard, that he had been seen even later than that--to wit, yesterday--at Smithfield, where he had suddenly left his cart and disappeared. And some said it was known he had a confederate in the city, who was giving him shelter, and of whose name the watch had a pretty shrewd guess. Whereupon, ill at ease, I said, "Pray Heaven they may find both the rogues," and so hastened back as fast as my legs would carry me to Temple Bar.

There I found my master ready to leave.

"Here are the letters," said he, "and money. While you are gone I must hire a man to see to the printing here, since my duties will take me elsewhere. Should aught befall me, Humphrey, you must keep the work going for the sake of your mistress and the children. For it is like enough my head is none too safe on my shoulders, or if it is, it may chance I must hold it up a while across the seas. My lad, G.o.d hath chosen you to a.s.sist in a mighty work, which, whether it succeed or fail, will be a thing to pride in some day hence. Farewell, my son, see you get good type for the money, and bring it quickly. So, Heaven speed you."

When he was gone I went up and found Ludar mad with hunger and impatience.

"What news?" said he, "and speak not to me unless it be to say, dinner is served."

He looked pale and hara.s.sed, and I think, although the little room had a bed and a chair, he had stood upright in it all day, touching nothing.

But when I had him down to dinner, he touched a good deal, and told me, in explanation, that the meal I gave him last night had been the first for three days, and that, then, he was too eager for news to take all he might.

When I told him of the hue and cry, and how near the watch was on the scent, he turned to me and said:

"Where shall we go, Humphrey?"

Which meant, that wherever he went, he counted on me to follow. So I told him of my errand to Roch.e.l.le, and of the _Misericorde_, which lay below the Bridge. Then his face brightened.

"That is well," said he. "It matters not whether we go to France or the Pole, so I breathe some freer air than this of England. Let us start now. We must not go together. I will take the wherry while you go by land."

"First," said I, "put on this cast-off suit of mine, which I thought to give away to a beggar man, once; but thank Heaven I did not."

"You give it to a beggar now," said he, "and I thank you, Humphrey, for a gift I never expected to take from you."

Then we hid the dead carter's clothes in the river; and, not long after, a skiff put out from sh.o.r.e with a big 'prentice lad in it, who rowed lazily Bridgewards.

I stood watching him, when, suddenly, the outer door opened, and a company of the watch trooped in.

"Good e'en to you, Master Dexter," said the leader of them, whose head I had once chanced to break, and who had been monstrous civil to me ever since. "We must search this house, by your leave."

"What for?" I asked.

"For villains and lurchers," said he, "and if you keep any such in hiding, you had best speak and save trouble."

"Wert thou not on a good service," said I, bl.u.s.tering, "I would knock some of your heads together for supposing I harboured villains. The only villains in this place are some of you, sirs. What do you take me for?"

"Nevertheless," said the leader, "we must look round. And, if there be naught to find, there is naught for thee to fear, Master Humphrey."

"You must bring twice your number before I shake in my shoes at you,"

said I. "Come, look where you will, and, when you have found them, I pray you let me have a sight of the rogues." And I went on with my printing.

Of course they found naught. But I, as I stood at the press, could see from the window far down the river a boat lolling on the stream, and thanked Heaven all this had not fallen an hour earlier.

They searched upstairs and downstairs, in the wet cellar, and in the maiden's chamber. They peeped in the cupboards, and up the chimneys, and put their heads out on the roof. Then, when they were satisfied, I asked would they like to spy in my pockets, whereat they departed somewhat ruffled, and left me to breathe again.

Late that night I stood on board the _Misericorde_. The captain was on the look-out for me.

"By your leave," said he, "you be none too early, comrade. Your fellow 'prentice,"--here he gave me a knowing look--"hath been here this hour, and is in his berth."

So I went below, and there lay Ludar sound asleep in a hammock, in the very cabin where he and I had lain once before.

About midnight I could hear the grinding of the anchor chain at the bows, which was music to my ears, as was the heavy trampling on deck, and the shouting, and the dabbling of the water at the ports. Amidst it all, I too fell asleep; and when I woke and stood next day on deck, I could see on our right the sullen forts on the Medway, and, behind, the long, low, green line of the Ess.e.x mud banks.

Ludar was there before me, pacing restlessly with troubled brow. The joy of his freedom had vanished before the sad memories which crowded the s.h.i.+p.

"Humphrey," said he, presently, "when and where is all this to end? How does it bring us nearer to our heart's desires?"

"Indeed," said I, with a sigh, "'tis a long way round. Yet, patience; the farther East the nearer West."

He looked at me, as much as to say he knew I was not such a fool as my words showed me.

"And after Roch.e.l.le," said he, "what then?"

"Time enough when we are there," said I.

Time enough, indeed!

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

HOW THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA CAME INTO BRITISH WATERS.

We had scarce got our head round the South Foreland, when there met us a gale of wind, such as boded ill enough for our quick voyage to Roch.e.l.le.

June as it was, it was as cold as March, and along with the rain came sleet and hail, which tempted us to wonder if winter were not suddenly come instead of summer.

I feared good man Petrie, the captain, would run for shelter into Dover or some English port where (who knows?) Ludar might be seen and taken.

But instead of that he stood out stoutly for the French coast, and after a week's battle with the waves put in, battered and leaking, at Dieppe.

There we waited some two weeks, mending our cracks, and hoping for a change of weather. But the gale roared on, defying us to get our nose out of port, and sending in on us wrecks and castaways which promised us a hot welcome from the open channel.

But after about two weeks the wind slackened and s.h.i.+fted a point from the seaward. So, although the waves still ran high, we put out, and with short sail laboured towards Cherbourg.

This storm suited Ludar's humour, and while all of us whistled for fair weather, his spirits rose as he turned his face to windward, and watched the good s.h.i.+p stagger through the waves. Of his own accord he volunteered to help among the seamen, and ordered me to do the same.

And the captain was very glad of the aid; for it was all the crew could do to keep the _Misericorde_ taut and straight in her course.

When we came off Cherbourg we resolved to lose no more time by putting in; and finding our timbers sound and our canvas well in the wind, we stood out for Ushant.

But Master Petrie repented, a day out, that he had been so hardy. For the nearer we struggled to the open ocean, the greater grew the seas, which presently broke across our bows with a force that made every timber creak, and laid us over almost on our beam-ends. It was soon more than we could do to carry any but a reefed foresail; and all day long some of us were hard at work at the pumps.

How long we laboured thus I can hardly say. It must have been three weeks or more before we breasted Ushant; and by that time the water was gaining on us in the hold, and our victuals had fallen short. Whether we liked it or not, we must try to make Brest, and Heaven would need to work a miracle on our behalf if we were to do that.

Our captain, brave man as he was, lost courage when he found the water coming higher in the hold, and saw the _Misericorde_ labour harder with every new wave and s.h.i.+p more water each time than the last. As for the men, they gave up the labour at the pumps in despair, and took to what liquor they could find to drown their terrors.

But Ludar alone never lost heart or head. He took charge of the deserted helm, and bade the seamen cut away spars and throw over cargo.

And they obeyed him, as they would their captain, and plucked up a little spirit at sight of his courage.